L I B RA RY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVER5ITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 
 P33>n 
 
 V.I
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/vagaorviewofnatu01peck
 
 VAGA. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 Piinted by J. Darling, Leadenhall-S?reet, LondOi
 
 VAGA; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A VIEW OF NATURE. 
 —I. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. ^ 
 
 MRS. PECK, 
 
 AUTHOR OF TUB MAID OF AVON, WELCH PEASANT BOY, 
 YOUNG ROSINIERE, ^C. 
 
 "At lens;th Sancho said to his master, ' Please, Sir, to ask Mr. Ape, 
 whetlier the affair ot the Cave be true 1 for beggiag your Worship's par- 
 don, I don't believe a word of it.'— The JVIonkey being accortlingly con- 
 sulted, the answer was, that part was true, and part false" 
 
 JSECOND EDITION. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED AT THE 
 
 rOR A. K, NEWMAJSr AND COi 
 
 LEADENH ALL-STREET. , 
 1815.
 
 I/./ 
 
 VAGA; 
 
 ^ A VIEW OF NATURE, 
 
 'J) 
 
 CHAPTER 1, 
 
 Do 
 
 ^FivE months had now marked the in- 
 5^terval since the remains of the vene- 
 ^rable Rory the Brave were interred in 
 ^the abbey of Holy Cross, near the tomb 
 <oof the founder. 
 
 ^ The purple glow of evening was 
 ^<liffused over the scene : the sun, gra- 
 jiually declining, glanced a thousand 
 ^shifting lights over all the air — 
 V which, touching the lower points of 
 ^ the distant mountains, was seen blush- 
 
 ^^ VOL. I. B 

 
 2 VAGA. 
 
 ing on the tops of the liills — then 
 darting in red heams on the level plain, 
 while the summer breeze, stealing over 
 the aromatic herbage of the generous 
 soil, wafted refreshment around. Vaga 
 — loitering in the path, gathering 
 wild flowers, and inhaling the deli- 
 cious fragrance they breathed — heard 
 herself addressed • 
 
 ** Young maiden ! can you direct 
 me to the good old chieftain of these 
 domains, called Rory the Brave?" 
 
 " He rests in yonder abbey," said 
 Vaga. 
 
 " What ! the venerable ruin I have 
 just passed?" 
 
 " The same, stranger." 
 
 " Very extraordinary this I" replied 
 her interrogator, his eyes fixed on the 
 decayed structure. 
 
 " Aye," rejoined Vaga : " man is, 
 in himself, a page of wonder, and his
 
 i 
 
 VAGA. 3 
 
 life'f end an enigma to the existing- 
 world." 
 
 " Ah!" interposed the traveller 
 quickly — " can it then be, that I 
 have journeyed in vain?" — A cloud 
 of grief gathered on his brow : tears 
 swelled into his eyes — " yet" (tre- 
 mulously expressed) *^ may not other 
 changes — the caprices of fortune — 
 the vicissitudes incident to human 
 affairs — have conspired- • • •" 
 
 *' To level with the dust, a chief- 
 tain," said Vaga. 
 
 The stranger bowed his head — 
 *' 'Tis even so then ! Rory the Brave 
 is dead ! " 
 
 " To you, and to me," said Vaga : 
 '* yet does he, I hope, still live." 
 
 The traveller, now resting on his 
 
 cane, seemed to regard this daughter 
 
 of laconism with an expression half 
 
 doubtful, half reproachful. A deep 
 
 B 2
 
 4 VAGA. 
 
 blush lighted up the rapid variation of 
 the countenance. — He started, and 
 turned aside; then, awaking, as it 
 were, from reverie, after a moment's 
 hesitation, he observed : 
 
 '^ Lady ! I am from distant climes, 
 that lie within the sun's embrace! — 
 Nature trained me — not art. The 
 sincere savage is unsophisticated man. 
 Rude, as the desert in which he was 
 bred — and free as the air around him 
 — he acts agreeably to the suggestions 
 of his instinct, as proposed by natural 
 reason, and immediately derived from 
 the first law of our being — self-preser- 
 vation ! — He loves, <i\u\ feels he is be- 
 loved : he hates, and feels that he is 
 hated. In battle, he *' fights the fear of 
 death," and calls it living — to die in 
 defence of his wife, his children, and 
 his country. Every man in his tribe 
 he thinks a brother. In the uncor-
 
 VAGA. 
 
 rupted state of his being, justice is the 
 basis of the mental law that governs 
 him — because, under this expression, 
 to real crime positive punishment is 
 attached — to real good, a reward pro- 
 portionate to the merit of the action. 
 Justice is principle, and pinnciple is 
 virtue; and the whole may be re- 
 duced into one primitive term, uni- 
 "cersal right: — that is, all men being 
 equal in the sight of Heaven, so should 
 they, as brethren, be regarded alike 
 equal on earth; for justice is equity — 
 and equity is relative equality ! — Na- 
 ture signifies this; and an unlettered 
 people, subordinate to its voice — united 
 in a body, defend, assist, and support 
 each other, all in their respective ob- 
 servance of their elected king, and a na- 
 tion's interest — thus establishino- their 
 natural rights, their general preserva- 
 tion, and their common existence. —
 
 VAGA, 
 
 Such," continued the animated speaker, 
 " is the order of the savage race — in its 
 original hardihood, perhaps, barba- 
 rously great — and, in its primeval 
 simplicity, blending with the sublime 
 the beautiful ! Contrasted with culti- 
 vated man, how the primeval character 
 rises in the scale ! because here we see 
 a picture of the species, not shackled 
 by the sophistical impositions of the 
 artist and the philosopher — not a crea- 
 ture of imitation, fashioned by the in- 
 troduction of prejudice and opinion — 
 but man, original man, enamoured with 
 nature, and at liberty to follow her ge- 
 nuine rules. Lady ! to tliis rude sect 
 do I belong : — speak plainly, then : re- 
 spect an honest meaning, and an untu- 
 tored heart: wave modern manners, 
 and a false refinement." 
 
 ** I have spoken truly," said Vaga. 
 
 " But not intelligibly,*' retorted the 
 stranger.
 
 VAGA. 7 
 
 " Life and death are one," said 
 Vaga ; " for a good man always lives." 
 
 ** Lady ! you now emerge from the 
 obscure ; and there is some lumination 
 in your language.' 
 
 *' When the sun breaks through a 
 dark cloud," said Vaga, " the light 
 falHng on the deep mass of shade 
 which veils the heavens, in its strength 
 and beauty must needs be said to ex- 
 press ineffable excellence: and illus- 
 trations, to be borrowed from it, seem, 
 in the spirit of the sublime, to display 
 the glory of angels, and point to the 
 origin of man." 
 
 *' True !" replied the stranger: " yet 
 doth it demand the whole sagacity of 
 reason to be thus understood." 
 
 *' I cannot see," said Vaga, " how 
 your words apply, because that which 
 is evident, is obvious to the feeblest 
 understanding." 
 
 b4
 
 8 VA6A. 
 
 '* Lady ! we all live, and know wc 
 are placed here, without dreaming 
 why or wherefore. Existence is, of 
 itself, sufficient to some — the end to 
 which it is directed, the care only of a 
 tew.'' 
 
 '' The sun is the source of life," said 
 Vaga; *' and, as such, it means the 
 power which animates and moves the 
 universe." 
 
 *' Lady I that is our heathen doc- 
 trine." 
 
 " Call it what you please," said 
 Vaga : *' yet is it truth, eternal and 
 unalterable. The sun unites in its 
 great and transcendent body all the 
 divine attributes : its presence ani- 
 mates and illumines the whole of the 
 terrestrial world : its properties are 
 essential to the existence of things : it 
 it is an emanation from the Deity, 
 placed before the senses of man : it is.
 
 VAGA. 9 
 
 one and universal; and its perfecti- 
 bility is applicable to the majesty of 
 God." 
 
 At this pause, the stranger, with 
 an air of enthusiasm, lifting the hat 
 from his head — his black hair, glossy 
 and silky, fell in luxuriant profusion 
 over his shoulders ; and the whole of 
 his face, now bared to the view, in its 
 peculiar character and color, beamed 
 much of beauty. 
 
 Vaga started. 
 
 " Lady! do I alarm you?" 
 
 " A little," said Vaga. . 
 
 " Then rest content," replied the 
 stranger ; ^' for danger is not in me. — 
 Yet, in the spirit of innocence I speak 
 it, mucli of my heart is with you. — 
 Yes, I feel as if I had known you 
 before — as if we had met, I cannot 
 tell where- •• -Perhaps, according to 
 that Pythagoras of whom I have heard, 
 b5
 
 10 VAGA. 
 
 in some age gone by — perhaps in the 
 bosom of my country ! — That nameless 
 sijinethingj'' continued he, '* floating 
 throughout your form • • • • the parted 
 lip, a bed of roses, and love's little 
 world' ** 'i\\o%t accents so dear and 
 famihar* • • -the ndvcete playing about 
 you* • • -Vision, vision all ! but sweet, 
 how sweet is the delusion ! • • • • Lady ! 
 my speech, though apparently chime- 
 rical, is nevertheless true • • • • This 
 heart of raine, believe it, has never 
 wronged, nor these lips deceived, the 
 being Heaven created. — Ask me what 
 estranged me from my home, and sent 
 me wandering? • • • • Sentiment !• • • . 
 Ask me my commission hither?- • • • 
 Love !•••• Demand of my heart its 
 master feeling?- • • -Duty !• • • -Am I a 
 man?' •••A romantic savage, lady! 
 of woman born- • • -neither more, r.or 
 less. — Am I happy ? . . - • Once I was ;
 
 VAGA. 11 
 
 and what has been, may be again- • • . 
 Am I rich?' • • •!£ a mind at ease sig- 
 nifies wealth, then am I poor: but, 
 and if dross be treasure, then am I 
 rich. — Lady! look here!" displaying 
 to the view a case, richly inlaid, and 
 filled with precious stones. " The 
 treasure you now behold, was in- 
 tended as a tribute of affection to 
 Rory the Brave, from Tartane, his 
 banished son." 
 
 '* Ha!" said Vaga — " he was a 
 youth in whom his father took delight. 
 Often have I heard the chieftain de- 
 scribe the spirit that with him grew— 
 manly, magnanimous ; his heart glow- 
 ins: with honest love — his bosom 
 burning with patriotic fire — his nature 
 joyfully acknowledging its affiance with 
 the xvhole of the human race ; — and 
 the proud ambition of his rising years, 
 the glory and welfare of his country !
 
 12 VAGA. 
 
 — A courteous gentleman too, if libe- 
 rality, sweetness, and sensibility, be 
 engaging: but good qualities may not 
 be rightly understood : — individuals be- 
 ing enslaved to selfish prejudices, and 
 thus biassed in their judgement, can a 
 sentence resulting from their private 
 interest^ be considered as fair? — and 
 for the multitude, though its suffrage 
 is invariably given to virtue — its sanc- 
 tion does not always include protec- 
 tion. -Envy sickened at the excel- 
 lence of the young Tartane : malice 
 misrepresented him; and in disgust 
 he left his native land. — Such are the 
 particulars that conspired to his exile : 
 — but of his succeeding fate all here 
 are ignorant." 
 
 " Lady ! your language and senti- 
 ments excite in me an emotion irrepres- 
 sible ! — May I inquire, who are you?" 
 
 " Traveller ! I cannot resolve youc
 
 VAGA. IS 
 
 question ; for I do not know myself. 
 
 A father's caresses, nor a mother's 
 
 love, ne'er tuned my infant tongue to 
 grateful sounds of joy : — Though lisp- 
 ing, self-taught, I may have poured out 
 my thanks to parents full as dear — 
 Heaven and sweet nature." 
 
 " Wondrous ! wondrous creature !" 
 — and the stranger once more bowed 
 his head. 
 
 " My story is marvellous indeed,'* 
 said Vaga : *' and, if you please, I'll 
 give you the outline : — 
 
 " It chanced, one morning, the la- 
 mented chieftain, rising with the dawn 
 — by taste and inspiration called — bent 
 his footsteps along the verdant turf. 
 With fixed gaze he stopped, hailirlg 
 the blushing sun. — His eye then fell 
 on the flowery level, inundated with 
 blood. — My childish wail, though fee- 
 bly poured, struck to his heart -, and,
 
 14 VAGA. 
 
 guided by the attentive Echo murmur- 
 ing over the river banks, from a bed 
 of rushes he drew forth the body of a 
 man, to which I clung. — The mangled 
 form in every gash seemed to find a 
 tongue; while, with asking looks, pi- 
 teous, I spread my infant hands, and 
 cried, * Massa ! poor slave be dead : 
 but baby be too young to die.' — Hu- 
 manity, warm as love, kindling soft 
 passion in the sage's breast, he caught 
 me to his heart, mitigating, with gra- 
 cious drops of pit}^, the sharp pangs of 
 a child's distress. As I grew to his pa- 
 ternal bosom, from nerve to nerve di- 
 vine conception thrilled. • • • 'His mind, 
 pregnant with inspiration, sent forward 
 a daring look to heaven ; and, nature 
 laboring for light and action, the child 
 of fancy bursting into birth, with all a 
 father's joy the aged chieftain greeted 
 me, and from that hour called me his
 
 VAGA. 15 
 
 daughter; until his heap of years ver- 
 ging to the brink, he closed his eyes, 
 
 alas ! on this terrestrial scene. O 1 
 
 sad reverse to me I " 
 
 Vaga paused, and, drying the tears 
 that had begun to flow, in a voice 
 broken by tenderness, once more re- 
 sumed her narrative — 
 
 " My benefactor laid in the earth, 
 his second son, and presumptive heir 
 to his estates, straight arrived. — Weep- 
 ing I stood before him : sullen rancor 
 was in his looks : — ' Madam,' said he, 
 * the day of an old man's dotage is 
 now past ; and 'tis time you should be 
 taught to fill your proper station.'* • • • 
 At these words, a man, habited as a 
 mendicant, entered, and, uncovering 
 his head, begged for bread.- •• -Sud- 
 den, I saw the florid glow on the coun- 
 tenance of the haughty master, change 
 to a deadly paleness. — * Begone!' said
 
 16 VAGA. 
 
 he to me; and I retired; but had 
 scarcely measured half the adjoin- 
 ing gallery, when, hearing him and 
 the mendicant approach, timorous I 
 paused. — * Impostor !' cried the former 
 • — * away !' — A contemptuous smile 
 passed over the features of the poor 
 petitioner, which inflaming the irritated 
 passions of this imperious man, he was 
 proceeding to violence. — Impulse go- 
 verned me : — pleading the cause of 
 humble indigence, I rushed forward. 
 — * Follow him then!' exclaimed he 
 aloud : * quit my house, and, with a 
 beggar, find your proper level." 
 
 Tears stood in the stranger's eyes; 
 and a tender enthusiasm stealing over 
 his mind, a mingled sensation of indig- 
 nation and anxiety rose in his breast, 
 and he pronounced Avith quickness — 
 ** The Christian, who professes to 
 ' love mercy, and walk humbly be-
 
 VAGA. 17 
 
 lore God/ yet, so rigorous, and hard 
 of heart!" 
 
 *' Tis certain his conduct was se- 
 vere," said Vaga : ** yet I call the day 
 on which he threw nie to my fate, a 
 happy one; for, in the mendicant, I 
 found a second father." 
 
 *' You astonish me." 
 
 *' I was myself astonished," said 
 Vaga: *' hut you shall hear. — The 
 petitioner was not what he appeared 
 to be. He had seen mucl> of the 
 world, and suffered more : — disap- 
 pointments rendered him skeptical : — • 
 he doubted others, because he had been 
 often deceived. — Nor was he entirely 
 mistaken in his calculation on man : — 
 he put him to some trial ; and the 
 proof was, that riches harden the 
 heart.— Like him, I was a sorrower, 
 though not, like him, friendless; for
 
 18 VAGA, 
 
 he cherished and protected me. — * I 
 have my necessities,' said this good 
 man ; * but am far from being in want. 
 — The proud, the callous, and inflex- 
 ible,' continued he, * has, this day, 
 read to you your first lesson ; and my 
 experience offers you counsel upon it. 
 — Covet not wealth, to the perversion 
 of your principles; for prosperity is 
 sometimes the region of perdition. 
 Let the rigor you have endured, teach 
 you to sympathise with each and every 
 fellow sufferer ; and, though poor, you 
 will be enriched by your own virtue.* 
 — Yes !" (her eyes now streaming with 
 tears of tender acknowledgement) 
 " Both being afflicted, in pity to my 
 miseries, he was kind to me ; and I 
 repay with gratitude the beneficence 
 of the good Angelo." 
 
 Here all the stranger's spirit shone
 
 VAGA. 19 
 
 in his countenance : be respired quick 
 — ^* Angelo!" re-echoed he — ** did 
 you say Angelo?" 
 
 *' Yes," replied Vaga— " 'Tis the 
 name of my protector." 
 
 " That name is very dear to me," 
 said the stranger, with emotion ; *' for 
 I once had a friend, whom I so call- 
 ed" He stopped ; remembrance 
 
 pressed upon bis beart, and he burst 
 into a flood of tears. 
 
 Vaga felt her bosom swell with af- 
 fectionate sympathy ; and, as she con- 
 tinued to gaze on the tender expression 
 that characterised the stranger, her 
 reason could scarcely overcome an in- 
 voluntary and unaccountable emotion. 
 — The traveller looked up, and, hap- 
 pening to catch the animated meaning 
 
 stamped on her features *^ Yes !" 
 
 thought he — •" every amiable quality 
 of the mind expands in benevolence to
 
 20 VAGA. 
 
 all around : and tliis young woman — 
 train'ed in the scliool of adversity, 
 knowing what it is to endure — can 
 feel for all that suffer; and, though 
 she cannot, perhaps, remove the mis- 
 fortunes of others, it is at least in her 
 power to soften them by sympathy and 
 tenderness." 
 
 Vaga read what passed in the 
 stranger's mind. — Again she felt his 
 look at her heart, and again she felt 
 inspired with a solemn sensation that 
 she could in no way define; and giving 
 the rein to her naturally quick fancy, 
 her agitation increased ; — which the 
 traveller perceiving, faintly articulated 
 something like an apology — 
 
 " My spirits are weak," said he ; 
 " and tenderness enfeebles fortitude." 
 
 *^ Sir !" said Vaga, *' are all the men 
 of your country"- • • -She slopped, and, 
 blushing at the precipitancy of her
 
 VAGA. 21 
 
 fieelings, leaving the last sentence un- 
 finished, turned her burning face aside. 
 " The men of my country," said 
 the stranger energetically, " are the 
 children of simplicity and nature ; and 
 all the sweet affections of the heart are 
 the reflected images of innocence and 
 truth.- • • -Hence it is, that simplicity 
 of manners is classed among the social 
 virtues; because the man of simple 
 manners knows no happiness but in a 
 union of pure and affectionate hearts ; 
 and this fraternal sentiment, extended 
 to a whole nation, constitutes the ge- 
 neral security of its citizens, inasmuch 
 as it tends to promote love of country, 
 and devotion to the public cause! — 
 Our people, then," continued he, pur- 
 suing this train of thought, " may be 
 said to have attained the summit of 
 what is called moral virtue ; for these 
 tender attachments form a joint inte-
 
 22 VAGA. 
 
 rest, and are tlie source both of exter- 
 nal and internal prosperity : yet am I 
 a voluntary wanderer from that happy 
 land — self-exiled, and doomed to pass 
 the remainder of my days in banish- 
 ment and sorrow." — Here the stranger 
 once more, as if struck by some sudden 
 recollection, and overwhelmed by it — 
 seeming to bend in hopeless grief over 
 the past — bowed down his head, and 
 wept. 
 
 Vaga was for a moment silent : but 
 her tears bore testimony to her generous 
 concern for the stranger ; and, anxious 
 to soften his affliction, she at length 
 said — ** Our acquaintance, tliough 
 short, is yet long enough to warrant 
 the duties of sympathising humanity. 
 You appear weary, and your spirits are 
 sinking fast. — I cannot doubt the ac- 
 count you have given of yourself ; and, 
 if you will honor our little cottage
 
 VAGA. 23 
 
 with a visit, the kindness and hospita- 
 lity of its master may cheer and com- 
 fort you." 
 
 The stranger sensibly felt tliis cour- 
 tesy : it reanimated the last faint hope 
 at his heart; and, struggling to ac- 
 quire firmness, with the same frank- 
 ness with which the offer was made, 
 he accepted it. 
 
 '* You are very good," said he : ** for, 
 having, about two hours since, some- 
 how missed my guide, were it not for 
 your kindness, I should indeed be at a 
 loss for a night's lodging : but" (smi- 
 ling) "you look like a divinity, and, 
 in the present instance, appear to be 
 my guardian sprite." 
 
 On reaching the cottage, Vaga led 
 the way to the sitting-room ; and 
 throwing open the casement, the em- 
 bowering honeysuckles breathed their 
 sweet fragrance into the apartment. —
 
 24 VAGA. 
 
 The traveller cast an anxious glance 
 around, which Vaga comprehending, 
 as she placed for him a chair, observed 
 - — " I would lament the absence of the 
 good Angelo from home, only that he 
 is engaged in works of benevolence : 
 for, being skilled in physic, he is gone 
 to visit a few poor patients in the 
 neighbourhood. His stay, however, 
 cannot be very long; and, until his 
 return, you will be pleased to regard 
 me as his representative." 
 
 The stranger smiled a grateful as- 
 sent, and having taken the offered seat, 
 Vaga spread before him all the simple 
 luxury which this little rural retreat 
 afforded, and, bidding him welcome, 
 displayed a picture of all the sweet 
 courtesies of social virtue. 
 
 The traveller's spirits somewhat re- 
 vived by refreshment, he began to con- 
 verse with Vaga on the state of Ireland,
 
 VAGA. 25 
 
 and, discovering an eager curiosity on 
 the subject, listened with evident emo- 
 tion to the detail she gave of the late 
 rebellion, together with its lamen- 
 table effects, instanced in the union 
 with Great Britain, 
 
 " The Irish people," said Vaga, " in 
 their feelings, conduct, and principles, 
 adopt no middle course: the virtues 
 and vices of humanity have their ex- 
 tremes in Ireland : — yet, their barba- 
 risms may be accounted to proceed 
 from accidental, not natural causes. 
 A subdued people resemble the net- 
 ted lion, unfairly conquered; and there 
 can be no sincere friendship between 
 the oppressor and the oppressed. The 
 Irish character is brave, generous, and 
 independent : — ardent in their affec- 
 tions, and impatient of injury, they are 
 hasty, and perhaps violent, in their 
 resentments: but then, let it be re- 
 
 \Qh, I. c
 
 Q6 VAGA. 
 
 niembered, the L'ish people are for 
 from implacable. — Cultivate their love, 
 upon the broad basis of equal rights; 
 and they will love you : — call for 
 their forgiveness, even under the pres- 
 sure of abuses ; and pacific toleration 
 shall be permanently secured to the op- 
 pressors of this mismanaged island. 
 'Tis a curious truth," continued she, 
 " that this disposition to indulgence 
 among the Irish should fail to sow the 
 seeds of that political philosophy be- 
 tween the sister countries, which must 
 necessarily promote the interests and 
 safety of both nations : for, as ascen- 
 dency and emancipation tend to divide 
 the people, were the former abolished, 
 and the latter freely granted, the ne- 
 cessary result of such a happy mea- 
 sure would be, that the inhabitants of 
 Ireland and England would be as one 
 family— their affections consolidated,
 
 VAGA. 27 
 
 and their interests blended. — But, as 
 it is," (and Vaga sighed heavily) " in- 
 stead of good faith and unanimity, this 
 poor subjugated land has experienced 
 much of treachery : — her discontents 
 have been fomented, and inflamed 
 into rebellion, till at length the total 
 overthrow of Irish independence was 
 accomplished by the Act of Union." 
 
 *' England," said the stranger, " is 
 a free country; and the law of right 
 and equality, in the order of nature, 
 prescribes, through the medium of our 
 own rights, the rights of others, and 
 enjoins us — " Do not unto others the 
 evil which thou wouldst not they 
 should do unto thee." 
 
 " The quotation is apt," replied Vaga; 
 " and, methinks, 'tis worthy of remark, 
 that you, stranger, are so well read in 
 the Christian law, and the prophets !" 
 
 The traveller smiled, and, with an 
 c 2
 
 28 VAGA. 
 
 animated expression of deliglit that 
 spoke the ingenuousness and simpli- 
 city of a mind formed more by thought 
 than learning, answered — ** As tlie 
 practice of virtue is the natural opera- 
 tion of intellect, so is religious prin- 
 ciple the reflected image of universal 
 nature, like the creative spirit, identi- 
 fied with the existence of man. In 
 fine, it is the stamp of the Divinity, 
 which every human being bears in his 
 heart! — Yes, lady!" (his energy in- 
 creasing) ** In the first state of 
 things, as relating to the earliest order 
 of time, man was originally savage : — 
 yet, with regard to the power that 
 governs the world, was he sometimes 
 intelligent and always influenced by 
 the idea of a presiding Deity ; for, in 
 the first days, man saw '' God in 
 clouds;" — and, simple in the infancy 
 of his reason, hence his worship of the
 
 VAGA. 29 
 
 sun and moon, adored under their pro- 
 per forms, as figurative emblems of the 
 great source of life ! — But, for myself," 
 proceeded he with quickness, " pagan 
 I am none : — the religion of evidence 
 and truth is mine: — I have been in- 
 structed in the whole doctrine of 
 Christianity by a native of this island, 
 whom Heaven sent, deputed to bless, 
 and disseminate knowledge among our 
 people" • • • • Pausing with quivering lip 
 — the expression of vivacity in the stran- 
 ger's face was now succeeded by a deep 
 shade of regret ; and, wiping away the 
 tears that trembled in his eyes, he 
 added — " Yes, my dear young lady I 
 that rare man, hailed as a new light by 
 a darkened but innocent race, taught 
 me, and many more of our people, 
 Christianity; and, by virtue of its po- 
 sitions, I am not a little proud to say, 
 confirmed our primitive system of d't- 
 c 3
 
 VAGA. 
 
 vine worship in all its natural simpli- 
 city^ because we love, in our species, 
 
 the divine power tliat created us ; — for 
 tj^Lie religion advises to fraternal re- 
 gards — upon which positive command, 
 depends the perfection of man, his 
 happiness, and his preservation." 
 
 After some time longer passed in 
 conversation to the preceding effect, 
 the stranger, evidently overcome by 
 fatigue, sunk in his chair, into a pro- 
 found sleep. Vaga meanwhile re- 
 paired to the old widow, whose cottage 
 her benefactor rented, in order to di- 
 rect the necessary arrangements for 
 the stranger's accommodation during 
 the night; which being completed — 
 anxious for Angelo's return, she 
 strolled out to meet him. 
 
 The sun had shed his last light; and 
 liis retlexion, in rosy hue, still colored 
 the mountain's top, while the moon,
 
 VAGA. 31 
 
 appearing* and disappearing at inter- 
 vals through the clouds, now and then 
 gleamed in the setting ray, breaking 
 the gathering twilight. 
 
 Vaga, as she wound into her favo- 
 rite path — the rich valley leading to 
 the abbey — seeing a groupe of cottage 
 children, inquired of them concerning 
 her protector; and, having been told 
 that he was seen to enter the abbey a 
 few minutes before, quickening her 
 pace, she soon gained the antique 
 structure. A low querulous sound of 
 
 sorrow issued from within Vaga 
 
 started ; and the mourning continuing 
 — " It is the voice of the good An- 
 gelo!" cried she, passing on with 
 quicker steps, though retarded in her 
 progress by the frequent interruptions 
 of broken ground. 
 
 This building (founded in II69, by 
 Carbragh O'Brien, king of Limerick, 
 c 4
 
 32 VAGA. 
 
 in honor of a piece of the cross, said to 
 have been received by Murtagh, a 
 former monarch, from pope Paschal II. 
 in fJlO, and deposited in this abbey) 
 united to the fame of the holy relique 
 the charms of beautiful architecture. 
 — The fabric supports a high steeple, 
 exquisitely constructed, and supported, 
 in the centre, and on each side, by 
 Gothic arches. The nave is lined by 
 an arcade of four arches, with lateral 
 aisles; and what fragments of work- 
 manship remain throughout the ruin, 
 were, when perfect, fine specimens of 
 the art, both in design and execution. 
 
 The south side of the abbey, now 
 shone upon by the moonlight gleaming- 
 through the eastern window, Vaga 
 discovered her benefiictor standing be- 
 side the monument of Rory the Brave. 
 
 His head was uncovered : his hands 
 were raised, with his eyes towards
 
 VAGA. 33 
 
 heaven ; and the sick languor of de- 
 jection was but too apparent in his 
 pallid countenance. — " O my father^" 
 ejaculated he — *' is it beneath the cold 
 marble that your poor exile now seeks 
 all that remains to him of you? Look 
 down upon me (if permitted) and see 
 that your wise precepts have not, for 
 the most part, been bestowed in vain ; 
 for I endeavour to practise the great- 
 ness of mind, that can at once suffer, 
 and reason" • • • • He would l:|ave pro- 
 ceeded : but, perceiving Vaga, the 
 character of sadness in his features 
 softened into a tender, but anxious 
 expression; and, seemingly overpow- 
 ered by a confusion of ideas, he stood 
 silent and motionless. 
 
 Astonishment and impatience were 
 
 strongly .pictured in the countenance 
 
 of Vaga; when, ^giving herself up to 
 
 the impression made by those words 
 
 c 5
 
 34 VAGA. 
 
 spoken in soliloquy by her protector — 
 pointing to the tomb of the late chief, 
 
 she said with quickness '' After a 
 
 dreary pause of blank existence, say, 
 Angelo, tell me, does the father awake 
 again in the spirit of the son ?" 
 
 '* Hold!" said he, hastily interrupt- 
 ing her. 
 
 " Nay, nay," interposed Vaga, re- 
 sisting the command, ** confirm what 
 your language has implied; and, if you 
 are indeed the being I suspect"- • • • 
 
 ** I addressed the fathei^'" said he, 
 interrupting her a second time; " and 
 have we not all one common father?" 
 
 Vaga felt the full force of this reply : 
 yet a thousand questionable thoughts 
 arose in her mind. — ^^ Angelo!" said 
 she tremulously, ^' why speak to me in 
 parables?" 
 
 *' Because I would not bear lieavy 
 ©n your heart," said he.
 
 VAGA. S5 
 
 "Oh !" — and Vaga caught his hand 
 between her own — '* fear not my 
 heart." 
 
 Her benefactor started. — A flood of 
 
 tenderness swam in his eyes " Dear 
 
 girl!" said he, *' enthusiasm has its 
 frosts : for, in the days of my youth, I 
 was, Hke you, an enthusiast: but the 
 warm glow has become chilled in the 
 world : old age has snowed upon this 
 head : — nothing remains to me of life, 
 but the remembrance that I once had 
 lived." — His voice sunk, as he pro- 
 nounced the last words : but, making 
 a visible effort to rouse himself, he add- 
 ed — *' Yet, have I not, in you, found 
 myself again ? — Yes, sweet innocent! 
 you are indeed the substance of what 
 I. was — :and /, only, as it were, the 
 shadow." 
 
 Again Vaga anxiously regarded her
 
 bb VAGA. 
 
 protector; and again her inquiring 
 glance met his sight. 
 
 Angelo breathed quick and strong: 
 a sensation of tenderness melted his 
 heart; and he burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 Vaga felt her head turn round, and, 
 pressing his hand closer to her heart, 
 tremulously added, " Angelo ! why do 
 you weep?" 
 
 *^ For you, for myself, for the whole 
 of suffering humanity," said he. — 
 ** Ah !" directing a piercing glance of 
 the eye to Vaga, " these powerful 
 feelings endanger the disguise which 
 my better wisdom has for the present 
 
 assumed. -However, the hour fast 
 
 approaches, when it shall be cast off, 
 and when I shall gladly acknowledge 
 you as I ought." At this pause, a 
 moon-beam fell athwart the counte- 
 nance of the speaker; and his eyes,
 
 VAGA. 37 
 
 full of tender sweetness, were still bent 
 on Vaga. As she anxiously contem- 
 plated their expression, she, by a reei- 
 procal something, felt the reaction of 
 his feelings at her heart. 
 
 Vaga thought — Vaga felt — Vaga 
 looked, as he did : and, guided by an 
 innate uncontrolable sentiment, she 
 knelt by his side. 
 
 " If there be truth in the page of 
 nature," cried she, folding her hands 
 in a supplicating manner — " vl read in 
 your face, Angelo, that I am your 
 child." 
 
 He caught her to his heart, but 
 spoke not : and, lifting up his eyes 
 devoutly, the enthusiasm, so natural to 
 his temper, being revived by the sweet 
 affections, all the spirit of the father 
 shone out in their expression. 
 
 Vaga trembled with joy, with love, 
 with transport : for, though silent, his
 
 38 VAGA. 
 
 looks made certain the wishes of her 
 heart; and, as memory recalled the 
 affecting circumstance of their meet- 
 ing, a mild rapture glowed in her soul. 
 ■ — She kissed his hands — kissed them 
 again — and, bursting into a new trans- 
 port of delight, exclaimed, ** I am no 
 longer an imaginary creature — no long- 
 er a link broken from the chain of 
 creation. — Oh!" clinging round his 
 knees, ^* 'tis sweet to belong to some- 
 body, and sweeter still to have si4ch 
 a parent to love, to honor ! — Yes, my 
 father!" (and Vaga leaned her head 
 upon his breast) *' our happiest state 
 here is being loved, and loving. — The 
 tender affections were given to us, 
 as a solace for our cares : — banish 
 them from the earth, and the solitude 
 of the desert were preferable to the 
 impassioned globe ; for man is refresh- 
 ment to man — like the blaze of the sun,
 
 VAGA. 39 
 
 tempered by the aromatic gale, wafting 
 health and freshness through the air." 
 
 Angelo listened attentively, until, 
 at the last pause, losing his command 
 over himself, a burst of tenderness 
 broke from his heart. 
 
 " 'Tis in vain," cried he aloud, *^ to 
 struggle against nature ! Vaga ! I sur- 
 render to you the certainty of know- 
 ing that I am your father : and yetj, 
 strange as it must appear, I could 
 wish the secret confined, ,a little 
 longer, to my own breast. How- 
 ever, the cause of so much mystery 
 shall be explained." — He now pro- 
 ceeded to state, that he had been 
 actuated by feelings and motives per- 
 haps the most imperious, to throw the 
 veil of silence over her natural claims 
 upon him — satisfied, for the present, 
 if his conduct truly spoke the language
 
 40 VAGA. 
 
 of nature and affection: but, the dis- 
 closure now made, be gave bis promise 
 that be woubi, on tbe morrow, witbout 
 reserve, unfold bis eventful story. — 
 " Yes," said be, " poor, injured cbild! 
 I will not, cannot, any longer conceal 
 from you tbe interesting trutb. — You 
 sball bear tbe sad destiny of your 
 fatber; and a tale of borror it is; 
 for bis bistory is a scene of woes, a 
 life of wrongs!" — He sbuddered, and, 
 passing bis band over bis eye-brows, 
 in order to bide tbe drops trickling 
 from tbeir lids — wbile tears rolled 
 down bis cbeeks — lieaving a deep 
 sigb, be reclined bis bead on tbe 
 sboulder of Vaga, in a manner tbat 
 told more of sorrow, tban tbe tongue 
 could bave uttered in bours. — Tben, 
 roused again from tbougbtfulncss, as if 
 by some sudden idea — beckoning bis
 
 VAGA. 41 
 
 (laughter forward, he rushed out of the 
 abbey, and, striking into the path that 
 led to the cottage, hastily walked on. 
 
 Vaga, hitherto engrossed as we 
 have seen, had forgotten to prepare 
 her father for the appearance of the 
 stranger; and, aware of this omission, 
 she immediately pursued him : but, im- 
 peded in her haste by the obscured and 
 uneven ground, and being left at some 
 disUiice behind, she called to him to 
 stop. He seemed, however, to be mu- 
 sing over the past — and, unwilling to 
 have his reflexions interrupted, still 
 hurried on. 
 
 A nearer interest now occupied our 
 Vaga's thoughts; and, in a retrospec- 
 tion of the chapel scene, she beguiled 
 the way home. The more she reflected, 
 the more she was amazed. — Her father's 
 remarkable words — " a scene oftvoeSy a 
 Ufeofxvrongs'' — recurred with increased
 
 42 VAGA. 
 
 force to memory ; and her heart again 
 felt a pang as painful, as at the instant 
 when she first heard the affecting, but 
 mysterious truth. — " What mystery in 
 my father's words and conduct!" said 
 she. *' 'Tis plain that he sought me 
 out, knowing me for his child : — and 
 now, the secret revealed, with avowed 
 reluctance he acknowledges me. — 
 Whence this deviation from the open 
 path of sincerity ? In the fair and un- 
 masked countenance of virtue, candor 
 and ingenuousness are legibly written : 
 — a good heart is like a transparency : 
 any that looks may read what passes 
 within it. — Tis only the crafty and 
 dastardly spirit, that shrinks from 
 showing itself free and open ; where- 
 as a generous boldness of character 
 betokens the intrepid aspect of truth, 
 fearless of every thing but a departure 
 from sincerity, and seeking no disguise,
 
 VAGA. 43 
 
 because having nought to hide. — Yet," 
 (starting) " how is it, that, upon bare 
 surmise, I dare charge my father with 
 aught — knowing that man is, more or 
 less, the slave of circumstances, and 
 that cautioUy even distrust, is sometimes 
 necessary to his well-being, peace, and 
 comfort in the world? — How often 
 has he repeated, for my instruction, 
 that vigilant prudence is a guard 
 against the impostures to which an 
 honest heart is ever open — th^at it is 
 wisdom's best strength — that its fore- 
 sight is prolonged existence to integrity 
 — and virtue can never be said to live 
 secure without it!" — These reflexions 
 at length superseded by the remem- 
 brance that she was no longer anony- 
 mous to herself — that she had folded 
 to her heart the author of her existence 
 — and that, in the course of a few hours, 
 the voice of nature would throw a
 
 44 VAGA. 
 
 further light upon her destiny — a thou- 
 sand new-born sensations rose in her 
 mind ; and, on reaching the cottage, 
 she felt her heart bound with expecta- 
 tion, and flutter with emotions it never 
 knew before. — Passing instantly to the 
 parlour, and there joining her lather, 
 she would have spoken : but, his atti- 
 tude arresting her attention, timorous 
 she paused. 
 
 The traveller was still sleeping 
 soundly, and Angelo's countenance 
 fixed upon him with steady gaze. — 
 The habitual expression of melancholy 
 in his features had given place to a 
 convulsive wildness — his hands were 
 clenched — his eye-balls almost burst- 
 ing from their sockets — a deep flush 
 overspread his face — and his person 
 was shrunk and distorted. He mut- 
 tered some words wholly unintelli- 
 gible: then, perceiving Vaga, point-
 
 VAC A. 45 
 
 ing to the stranger, he said, in a voice 
 half-stifled by emotion — " Girl! you 
 already know that I am your father: 
 — but you are still to be told, that it 
 was your mother who broke my heart." 
 From a mixed impulse of tenderness 
 and terror, Vaga sinking down at his 
 feet, her arms entwined his knees. — 
 Gazing silently upon her for about a 
 minute, he whispered emphatically, 
 " Yes ! yes ! you are the living image 
 (excepting only the difference of com- 
 plexion) of what she was, when pure 
 as the resemblance of her l>eauties :— 
 and now (heart-rending idea !) the 
 likeness itself is, as it were, the blush- 
 ing evidence of her shame, and my dis- 
 honor — but not (oh ! happy thought !) 
 'twas not till after your birth, poor 
 child! that she who bore you"'-«« 
 Here striking his forehead with terrific 
 violence, he ran wildly out.
 
 46 VAGA. 
 
 Vaga's warm blood cliilled — an cIgc- 
 trie spark shot through her brain — the 
 shock penetrated from the head to the 
 heart — and, her powers all giving way, 
 she fell prostrate on the floor : but, in 
 a moment more, one passion succeeded 
 by another, she rose up, and followed 
 her father. 
 
 He was walking with rapid steps, 
 backwards and forwards, before the 
 cottage door. — Vaga sprung into his 
 arms, and, burying her tears and 
 blushes in his bosom, plainly bespoke 
 all that her heart could say. — Breaking 
 from her embrace, he started — and, in 
 an impatient and impetuous manner, 
 questioned her concerning the stranger. 
 
 ** Do you know whom you have har- 
 boured?" said he. 
 
 Vaga, terrified and trembling, hesi- 
 tated in her reply. 
 
 " Do you know whom you have
 
 VAGA. 47 
 
 harboured?" repeated he again; and, 
 this spoken with a degree of passion, 
 Vaga could no longer contend against 
 tlie displeasure of her father; and, 
 blaming herself for the precipitancy 
 of that step which had provoked it, 
 she burst into tears. 
 
 Angelo shook and trembled.^ — Ere 
 she could speak, he emphatically ex- 
 claimed, " Vaga ! I must not be kept 
 in suspense — Tell me, I beseech you, 
 and tell me truly, do you know whom 
 you have harboured ?" 
 
 *' A traveller, sir." 
 
 " Well! but what else?" 
 
 " He lost his way ; and I met him 
 by chance." 
 
 " So! so! so! — and now the man- 
 ner of your meeting : for this matter 
 regards me nearly." 
 
 He accosted me, sir; and naming 
 with veneration the benefactor who
 
 48 VAGA. 
 
 first raised me, gratitude induced me 
 to listen to his discourse." 
 
 *^ Indeed!" said Angclo, strug- 
 gling against the sickish faintness 
 that came over him. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Vaga, — all the 
 ardor of her character reviving, as 
 recollection retraced the scene. — 
 " Then, styling himself a savage," 
 cried she, " he talked of nature and 
 religion ; and such was the greatness 
 and sublimity of his fancy, every word 
 that fell from his lips breathed merci/, 
 toleration^ and humanity, — Yet" (in- 
 creasing in warmth) " this is not all; 
 for what contributed to render him 
 still more interestino- to me — he an- 
 nounced himself the bearer of a trea- 
 sure, designed for Rory the Brave, as 
 a tribute of affection from Tartane, his 
 banished son." 
 
 The countenance of Angelo illu-
 
 VAGA. 49 
 
 mined by the moon, a powerful con- 
 flict of the feelings was visible in his 
 face — he laughed convulsively. 
 
 '^ Ah, sir!" said Vaga, *' resist, in 
 the cause of sorrow, your doubting 
 humour: — a solitary wanderer appeals 
 to your best feelings : the traveller 
 is" 
 
 " A cheat !" interposed he furiously. 
 
 " Father! I vouch it, truth is in 
 that man." 
 
 " Yaga ! I'll not give you bkck the 
 lie — but rather, in gentleness to you, 
 say with school-men, by man, woman 
 is understood." — He paused a moment : 
 — a dreadful meaning was in his looks 
 — then, pale and shuddering, he closed 
 his e^^es, as if to shut out from his 
 sight something horrible.**'*** The 
 repose of the hour seemed to mock 
 the tumult in his breast : — he started, 
 and, stamping the ground with his 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 VAGA. 
 
 feet, vehemently cried out, *' Go, go, 
 my child ! and start the game : — bid 
 the traveller repair for shelter to some 
 more hospitable dwelling ; and, as you 
 speak the words, look a double mean- 
 ing: — my commands are on you: — 
 
 away ! away !" Reeling forward a 
 
 few paces, he darted along, and ta- 
 king his station at some distance, stood 
 still, watching for the stranger, and 
 in a few minutes saw him depart. 
 
 Vaga now approached : — tears dim- 
 med the lustre of her eyes. — '* The 
 stranger I turned from your door," 
 said she, " now bends his steps along 
 the common. — Ah !" (passing her hand- 
 kerchief across her eyes) *' had you 
 seen the farewell glance he turned 
 upon me — then, modest blushing, and 
 tendering his thanks, thus reproached 
 my rudeness. — Had he reviled me, he 
 had been kinder."
 
 VAGA. 51 
 
 Angelo was for a moment silent; 
 but making an effort to speak, a groan 
 escaped him — then, turning briskly 
 round, and pointing his fore finger in 
 the direction the stranger had taken, 
 
 pronounced in broken sentences 
 
 " See, see the mimic mocker!- ••• 
 How cautious the truant treads, scared 
 by an accusing conscience!- •• •Now 
 the unreal stops — again moves on — 
 and starts — and staggers — Ha ! and 
 even blubbers it. • • - -Yes! yes !" (stri- 
 king his hands together) ** my passions 
 whetted, pant for more — I'll drink the 
 tears that flow."- • • -A. sudden resolu- 
 tion worked his agitation up to a 
 climax : — he seised his daughter's 
 hand; and, holding her at arm's- 
 length, " Vaga !" said he, " arrest yon 
 driveller; and, with smooth language, 
 once more allure him to the cottage. — 
 Expatiate on the austerity of a man
 
 62 VAGA. 
 
 whom the world has spited : conjure 
 up ideal images of danger; and fasten 
 fear upon him. The woman trembling 
 in his heart, will absolve the offence 
 that stung its pride ; and the dastard, 
 rendered passive by despair, shall 
 swallow the worst of deaths, rude 
 insult!- •• -Fly ! fly! I say; and be 
 the awful instrument of a father's 
 just resentments." 
 
 Vaga, overwhelmed, for an instant, 
 by the conviction of a dreadful some- 
 thing, without returning any reply, 
 sunk upon her knees. — Angelo, ghastly 
 and shivering, held out his hand to 
 raise her, which she receiving, with 
 an expression full of tenderness and 
 grief, bowed down her head over it — 
 then looking devoutly up, as if in 
 prayer, softly articulated — 
 
 '' If this unhappy travellci' has 
 committed some dire trespass on you
 
 VAGA. 55 
 
 (for sure he has), forgiveness well be- 
 comes the injured — It is a godlike 
 attribute." 
 
 Angelo was affected : tears gushed 
 to his eyes. A faint smile beamed 
 through the cloud of his sorrow ; and 
 he sighed forth — 
 
 " O nature, heaven, and earth, hear 
 the instinctive prayer !" — He smote 
 his breast, and, for a few seconds, 
 seemed lost in reverie: — but his asi- 
 tation returning — regarding Vaga with 
 a look of piercing anguish, he said, in 
 a voice almost suffocated by the vio- 
 lence of his emotions, '' Yes ! 'tis 
 graceful in you to mitigate offence; 
 for angels are alvva} s eloquent in the 
 cause of mercy. — Yet" (and he clasped 
 his hands) " did you dream for whom 
 you plead"- • • -He stopped, while irre- 
 solute how to proceed, then, checking 
 himself, exclaimed, " Silence, bab- 
 D 3
 
 54 VAGA. 
 
 bling heart! tell-tale, be still!''*' 
 Dear child! a little while, and you 
 shall ktiow all. — Meantime, you will 
 not hesitate to obey me." 
 
 *' You will not harm him, sir?" 
 *' Vagal the brave are never cruel. 
 'Tis the law of war to hold sacred a 
 captive enemy ; and it is the statute 
 of hospitality to protect even a foe ! — 
 Yet, believe it, my hatred is of itself 
 sufficient to defend this person. No ! 
 1 shall not trust my speech, lest a 
 saucy tongue should rail — but, mute 
 as a statue, personify the stony atti- 
 tude of grief — and, silent as thought, 
 make my observation, while you, in- 
 structed b}^ me, shall interrogate the 
 stranger, and search his inmost soul." 
 Vaga had now no alternative : — for 
 a moment she paused in terrified per- 
 plexity, till a sense of the duty she 
 owed her father, at length over-ruling
 
 VAGA. ' ^5 
 
 every other consideration, she hurried 
 on in pursuit of the stranger, who, 
 still in view, soon yielded to her per- 
 suasion, and they returned together to 
 the cottage. 
 
 Angelo was seated at the further 
 end of the room : — his night-cloak 
 was wrapped round him, and his hat 
 slouched, so as nearly to conceal his 
 face. 
 
 The traveller, led forward by Vaga, 
 entered timorously, and, uncovering 
 his head, seemed to wait the courtesy 
 of his host. 
 
 Angelo continued silent and mo- 
 tionless; and Vaga's heart beat with 
 fearful expectation. — A flash of resent- 
 ment shot from the stranger's eye— he 
 colored deeper than crimson — and, 
 while hesitating how to act, as he 
 looked towards Vaga with a meaning 
 . d4
 
 S6 ' VAGA. 
 
 more penetrating than reproof — a rising 
 sigh burst from his tortured bosom. 
 
 Angelo, startled by the sound, sprang 
 up, and raised his arm. — Vagas anxiety 
 for the stranger now overcame every 
 regard to herself: she rushed between 
 them. — Angelo recoiled — and, sinking 
 back in his chair, waved his hand to 
 her to retire. 
 
 The traveller's features told the na- 
 ture of his sensations — and Vaga, im- 
 patient to relieve his overcharged heart, 
 while struggling to dissemble lier own 
 feelings, affectionately taking his hand, 
 led him along — saying, as she con- 
 ducted him into an inner apartment, 
 that her protector was not always 
 master of himself — that some tender 
 recollections had started up to me- 
 mory — and that his passions were near 
 liis heart. — Then, beseeching* him not
 
 VAGA. .*)/ 
 
 to pass a liasty censure on the natural 
 bursting of his grief, entreated him to 
 await, within the cottao-e until the 
 morning, that welcome and reception 
 from its tenant, which good manners 
 and hospitality required of him. 
 
 The stranger smiled mournfully ; 
 and, as resentment was a feeling always 
 transitory in his mind, he only remem- 
 bered what he had heard .concerning 
 the melancholy of his host ; and freely 
 accepting the apology offered — after 
 sweetly thanking his fair hostess, and 
 bidding her good night — commending 
 her to the care of Heaven, he laid him- 
 self down to rest. 
 
 On the following morning, the tra- 
 veller was awaked by a rustling near 
 the bed — he doubted, listened, and 
 hearing some person breathing di- 
 stinctly — throwing back the curtains, 
 X)5
 
 58 VAGA. 
 
 he discovered Angelo rapidly retreat- 
 ing from the room. — Surprised, and 
 perhaps alarmed, he rose, and, when 
 dressed, was met at the chamher door 
 by Vaga, who came to summon him 
 to breakfast; and, having taken a seat 
 at the table, while partaking of the 
 repast prepared, his host abruptly en- 
 tered, disguised as before. The stran- 
 ger's first impulse was to address him : 
 but, a second thought deterring him, 
 with timid sweetness resigning his 
 chair, he walked towards the window ; 
 — and the extensive prospect it com- 
 manded, revealing to him the sublime 
 charms of nature, as his eye eagerly 
 wandered over the romantic scenery — 
 rapt in high enthusiasm, he " looked 
 through nature^ up to nature's God." 
 
 The sun was rising on the valley; 
 and the sullen grey peculiar to the
 
 VAGA. 59 
 
 cTavvn, sinking down behind the hills — 
 its beams, sportive as fairy elv'es, shed 
 a golden light. 
 
 ^' Yes !" thought the traveller — 
 *' the animated scene invites me forth : 
 I will away — inhale the pure breeze 
 fluttering from the mountain — and, 
 sauntering over the grassy bosom of 
 this pastoral vale, mingle with the rude 
 and wild — climb the romantic steep, 
 and, greeting nature and simplicity, 
 reflexion, refined by the noblest parts 
 of philosophy, (the original, and the 
 simple) the powers of thought, so con- 
 ducted, shall start into the first princi- 
 ple of religion — '^ Brotherly love."— ^ 
 Amid an innocent and a hardy race of 
 people, I will sojourn for a while, and, 
 living among my fellows, aid those 
 that suffer — right the oppressed — and, 
 styling the world my country, culti- 
 vate the common good/'
 
 60 VAGA. 
 
 Thus absorbed in musing silence, a 
 thousand tender images crowded to 
 the stranger's mind : and, as his imagi- 
 nation suggested that it was time to 
 depart — struck with a melancholy im- 
 pression — softening into tears, and 
 looking a long and grateful farewell at 
 VaQ'a — he was about to take his leave 
 — when, with all the energy that cha- 
 racterised her feelings, she besought 
 liim to resolve the fate of Tartane, her 
 late patron's son. 
 
 For some moments, the traveller ap- 
 peared afraid to trust his voice, and 
 answered her only by silence and de- 
 jection* •• -but, relaxing from his re- 
 serve, he wept over the memory of a 
 man, whose name never failed to affect 
 him, even to agony. 
 
 A faint expression of horror was 
 perceptible in Vaga's countenance — 
 she trembled excessively.
 
 VAGA. 61 
 
 ** Say, does he live?" said she, tre- 
 mulously. 
 
 " Immortal in my heart," replied the 
 stranger. — '* 'Tis a tale of tears : — I 
 I cannot speak the tragic sequel. 
 
 " Traveller !" said Vaga, " silence is 
 the herald of real feeling: — and, in this 
 speechless dialect of yours, there is a 
 power of expression, beyond the force 
 of language. — Tartane, 1 take it, was 
 once your friend?" 
 
 " Tartane was the friend of all man- 
 kind." 
 
 *' May I inquire the chance that 
 brought him to your country ?" 
 
 ** The fortune of war gave him to 
 our people. — We resisted a foreign 
 enemy : — the invaders fought for plun- 
 der — we, for our king, o\\x freedom, and 
 our homes. — The god of arms routed 
 the foe ; and humanity crowned with 
 a never-fading laurel the patriot vie-
 
 62 VAGA. 
 
 tory ! — It was tlie custom In our pro- 
 vince to immolate all prisoners taken 
 in the heat of battle ; and the innocent 
 blood of twelve captive youths was 
 adjudged to flow: — but the daughter of 
 our chief repealed by her tears the san- 
 guinary sentence; and hoisting the 
 standard of equity and honor — ' Perish 
 a petty vengeance !' she cried — * and 
 perish a thousand times the execrable 
 despot who shall pollute with the blood 
 of the vanquished the record of our 
 nation's glory ! The fervid spark of 
 heroic love, like the torch of Prome- 
 theus, gave life to silent nature 
 
 Tartan e was one of the redeemed ; and, 
 when his fair deliverer pronounced him 
 free, love, the grand enslaver, spread his 
 silken toils, and — wily as the serpent 
 whose folds are death — twined a fatal 
 net-work round him." 
 
 During the whole of this recital,
 
 VAGA. 6S 
 
 Angelo betrayed strong emotion ; and, 
 when the stranger pronounced the last 
 sentence — aware of its dreadful import, 
 and roused by an idea of irremediable 
 guilt — he rushed forward, and, avert- 
 ing, his head, grasped the stranger's 
 arm ; whose eyes involuntarily settling 
 on the strange novelty of such a posi- 
 tion, as he surveyed his form, an un- 
 usual awe struck to liis heart; — and 
 superstition, with its train of " thick- 
 coming fancies," now usurping the 
 dominion of his artless mind — under- 
 standing for an instant yielded to those 
 starts of imagination, which sometimes 
 disturb the soundest intellect. But 
 the pleadings of reason leading to an 
 exertion of the senses — the traveller, 
 recovering a decisive air, in a tone of 
 indignant inquiry, said — 
 
 " What ! stern sir ! are you indeed 
 so babyish, that the simple report of a
 
 64 VAGA. 
 
 visioft raises in your mind some terrible 
 image of the grave? — If so, here, clutch 
 me closer ! am I a shadow ? — Ha ! the 
 bubble 's burst- •• -Now, sir, release 
 me !" 
 
 Angelo, furious and agitated, beat 
 the ground with his feet. 
 
 The stranger's heart throbbed — his 
 brain burned.* •••" How strange is 
 this man's temper!" thought he, — 
 " dauntless in his daring — yet shrink- 
 ing from the trespass — and, as it were, 
 blush'mgj without having the grace to 
 be ashamed. 
 
 *' Eccentric! why hang upon me? 
 Why silent, troubled, trembling? — 
 Why avert your eyes, as if you thought 
 looking would kUl? My tempera- 
 ture is warm ; and superstit'w?i is the 
 child of ejithusiasm ! Are you a man ? 
 ^-1 cannot doubt: for, when these 
 doors, last nigiit, were shut against
 
 VAGA. 65 
 
 me, nature struck fire from your flinty 
 heart ; and the Iioli/ Jlame melted the 
 savage down !••••! was succoured — 
 I was protected — young love spread 
 me a bed; and hospitality presented 
 refreshment to my lips ! • . • • Now, then, 
 as you are a man, nature, I trust, will 
 do her part again. — LTnhand me, sir T 
 (haughtily expressed) " else the weak- 
 ness of my sea\ a colossal mass of force, 
 the woman acknowledged shall measure 
 her strength with yours — hurl defiance, 
 and abash your manhood." 
 
 The stranger paused for breath ; and 
 Angelo, uttering a low inarticulate 
 sound, fell upon his face. 
 
 Vaga stood appalled ••••'' A wo- 
 man !" re-echoed she, gazing intently 
 at the traveller — " A ztomanl" 
 
 " Even so," replied the stranger — 
 *^ powerful, because defenceless — and 
 in her weakness strong* — Yes!" (all
 
 66 VAGA. 
 
 the heart's swelling pride of the speaker 
 now visible in every look) ** 'tis the 
 courtesy of true valour, to drop the 
 dagger at the feet of the unarmed — 
 and the glory of the fair, that brave 
 men own no other conqueror." 
 
 Vaga, lost in wonder, could make 
 no reply; and the traveller's spirits 
 quite exhausted after their late exer- 
 tion, bending over the prostrate person 
 of Angelo, she softened into tender- 
 ness. 
 
 Angelo neither wept nor spoke : but 
 reiterated sighs told the intensity of 
 his anguish ; and the stranger — awake 
 to the suggestion of every passion, 
 caught at the supposition of having 
 influenced his distress ; and, trying to 
 re-assure and comfort him, many times 
 wished for the power to soothe his 
 
 grief. 
 
 " I should have borne with you,"
 
 said the stranger — " bat my temper is 
 hasty. However, as the fault origi- 
 nates in the head, not in the heart, 
 I hope you will pardon me." 
 
 Angelo, though silent, in gesture 
 expressed the most impassioned lan- 
 guage ; and the traveller, renewing his 
 solicitations, exclaimed — 
 . *' Nay, nay, we should not spurn 
 the contrite heart ! — Gentleman ! Oh ! 
 bear in mind, that the strongest in 
 this world is comparatively weak — and 
 none so perfect, but have something 
 to be forgiven.* • • •! am the remnant 
 of a w' reck, cast on the naked shore ; 
 and you, it appears, have been stranded: 
 each, then, having much to suffer, let 
 pity melt the frozen bond of grief — 
 give consolation ; and you shall in 
 turn receive." 
 
 Angelo, totally unaffected by all 
 that had been said, was still silent, still
 
 6'S VAGA. 
 
 inexorable; and Vaga, struggling be- 
 tween love for him, and pity for the 
 
 stranger, relapsed into tears. An 
 
 instantaneous gratitude touched the 
 traveller's soul — their eyes met — their 
 rays mingled — and the heart of each 
 spoke in their expression. 
 
 Vaga's quick perceptions again be- 
 came too pow^erful for her reason — 
 She saw, or thought she saw, a vision 
 of the future* • • 'A gust of joy swelled 
 her bosom almost to bursting. — Then, 
 grief contending for pre-eminence, too 
 much enervated to support the con- 
 flict — resigning the whole impression, 
 and weeping over the friendly fallacy 
 — the fond ])resentiment now appeared 
 to her imagination like a fairy dream. 
 " Ah !" thought the traveller, hea- 
 ving sigh for sigh, and shedding tear 
 for tear — '' though that poor stern old 
 man is inflexible, the Christian heart
 
 VAGA. 69 
 
 h not always obdurate ; for here is 
 one" (glancing tenderly at Vaga) 
 *' melting as charity* • • -Oh ! the pre- 
 cious drops of her compassion are re- 
 freshing to me, as the verdant spring, 
 in the midst of Syrian sands, is to 
 parched man in the desert ! — and yet 
 I must leave her— must resume my 
 wanderings !• • • -Alas ! Why this re- 
 luctance to go? — Why this regret at 
 parting? — It is, that there is ipuch of 
 nature about me ; and, when overload- 
 ed, in order to recruit my strength, I 
 sometimes pause. — Here, pride and 
 wounded feeling prevailing, " Fare- 
 well" faltered on the stranger's lips. 
 
 Vaga felt as if her heart would 
 burst : an idea floated through her 
 mind, which she could scarcely endure 
 
 to pause upon. She attempted, but 
 
 had not the power, to speak. 
 
 The traveller, blessing her, moved
 
 70 VAGA. 
 
 towards the door, and there heaving a 
 deep-drawn sigh — after lingering a 
 few minutes, hurried away. 
 
 Ano;elo's senses had suffered a trans- 
 ient suspension ; and now, seeming to 
 recollect himself, he looked anxiously 
 around. 
 
 " She is gone," said Vaga. 
 
 " Whither?" replied he. 
 
 " Father ! I know not." 
 
 '* And why not know?" said An- 
 gelo : " for she is your mother." 
 
 '' O God I O God!"— and Vaga 
 darted towards the door. 
 
 " Would you follow her ?" demanded 
 Angelo angrily. 
 
 " Yes ! — to restore her to you." 
 
 " What!" said he — " the reptile 
 that stung me ! — No ! no, dear child ! 
 you would not bring shame to your 
 father's heart. — That wanton is"- • • • 
 
 " My mother," cried Vaga aloud.
 
 VAGA. 71 
 
 " Aye," (and Angelo bounded on 
 his feet) " the curse of me, and mine. 
 — She saved me from death : that was 
 her whim. — She intombed me living : 
 that was her pleasure — She gave you 
 existence : and your days, as well as 
 mine, have crept their tedious round 
 in banishment and sorrow. — But her 
 hour is come ; and she shall feel — as 
 we have felt — what it is in a strange 
 
 land to suffer. Yes !" (pausipg, and 
 
 trembling) " It must be so — it shall 
 be so ! — The thief who plundered me, 
 in turn I'll plunder. Ha! ha! ha!" 
 (putting on a vizor) ^^ Aye, the 
 thought is excellent, to mask it with 
 a false one — and, in this fantastic trim, 
 burlesque a living character." 
 
 Vaga stood in speechless agony; 
 and — her father in a moment out of 
 sight-— gradually sinking on her knees, 
 she covered her face with both her
 
 72 VAGA. 
 
 hands, and in that attitude remained, 
 until Angelo, re-entering distract- 
 edly, roused her from the seeming 
 stupefaction in which she was plunged. 
 
 ** Bar all the doors," cried he, dash- 
 ing his mask u|X)n the ground, and 
 showing the purloined treasure. — 
 ** See ! see !" (wildly expressed.) '' I 
 hear in either hand my triumph; for 
 my wife, valuing nothing but trash, 
 deemed these baubles only worth the 
 keeping. • • • • O Vaga ! had you heard 
 
 her ' Robber !' she cried, ' take all, 
 
 except my life' — then, (true woman) 
 in the same breath, implored me, either 
 to rid her of the last remaining burden, 
 a miserable existence — or restore the 
 means to live." 
 
 The expression of Yaga's counte- 
 nance changed abruptly from deep 
 woe, to the most decided horror. — She 
 started up, and, riveting her eyes upon
 
 VAGA. 73 
 
 her father, with a wild shriek, ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 '' You did not kill her?" 
 
 " No," replied he, lowering* his 
 tone; *' for that would be mercy. — 
 She shall linger out a troublesome, 
 wretched being — aye, swallow ashes, 
 and literally drink tears." — He was for 
 a moment silent, then holding up a 
 purse containing a few guineas, re- 
 sumed, " and here is the proof, that 
 she has not now one sixpence left, to 
 pay even for a night's lodging." 
 
 Vaga, without exactly knowing 
 what she did, uttering a faint cry, 
 snatched the purse, and dropped upon 
 her knees. — Her father's heart beat so 
 strongly for an instant, that he could 
 not speak; but, alarmed by the eager 
 desperation in his air, and terrified for 
 the consequence of her temerity, in an 
 
 VOL, I. E
 
 74 VAGA. 
 
 accent of tenderness and sorrow, she 
 begged his forgiveness. 
 
 Angelo intuitively felt her meaning ; 
 and. after a long and torturing pause 
 of suspense, in a tone faltering with 
 passion, he demanded back the purse. 
 
 *' Never," she cried. 
 
 A terrible resentment flashed in her 
 father's eyes: — '* Vagal" said he, 
 '^ take care !" 
 
 " I will" — and she clasped her 
 hands — " of my mother." 
 
 More and more enraged, Angelo 
 reprobated the adulteress. 
 
 ** No matter," replied Vaga : *' I am 
 still her child." 
 
 " And mine, madam," said he, his 
 wrath increasing. 
 
 The remonstrance was not without 
 its effect : — -Vaga caught his hand, 
 and, in the earnestness of supplication.
 
 VA G A. 75 
 
 raised her eyes, as if in silent entreaty 
 — then, as reflexion stole over her 
 mind, prompted by a sense of inno- 
 cence to justify herself in the opinion 
 
 of her father " Oh ! dear, good 
 
 Angelo!" said she, ^^ into whose bo- 
 som (nature directing) I crept for shel- 
 ter — the revered parent, to whom I owe 
 more than a child's affections — think 
 not so injuriously of your poor girl, as 
 to suppose her either insensible to 
 your excellence, or unmindful of your 
 indisputable claims upon her.— Yes ! 
 yes !" continued she, in the most ani- 
 mated accent of affection — ^' to a vir- 
 tuous, but unhappy father, I owe 
 much; and that debt is love: — and 
 to a frail, but wretched mother, surely 
 I owe something — and that debt is 
 principle/' 
 
 Angelo trembled excessively — 
 " What means my child?'' said he. 
 E 2
 
 76 VAGA. 
 
 " To save from spot or stain your 
 sacred character," replied she. *^ No ! " 
 (clinging round him) " it never shall 
 be said, that the good, the kind, the 
 virtuous Angelo • • • • Oh 1 I cannot 
 speak it." 
 
 Her father, now relapsing into 
 all his former violence, wildly pro- 
 nounced — 
 
 " Vagal your mother"- • • • 
 
 " Must not perish," interposed she 
 vehemently. 
 
 Angelo could no longer oppose her. 
 
 . -'' Be it so," cried he, trying to 
 
 command his feelings : but the effort 
 was ineffectual : he covered his face 
 with his handkerchief; and, somewhat 
 relieved by this indulgence, after 
 making several attempts to renew the 
 conversation, at length he said, in a 
 tolerably firm tone — 
 
 ** Vaga, my dear I without offend-
 
 VAGA. '^^ 
 
 ing the delicacy of your sorrow, I may 
 be permitted to mention, that to every 
 species of crime a given measure of 
 punishment is prescribed; and in this 
 regulation consists the perfection of 
 all law — because it has in view the 
 preservation of society. — I am, then, 
 of necessity a rigorous judge; but the 
 law of right shall hold the balance 
 even. — The three first years of your 
 life were nurtured in your mothers 
 bosom — while I, entrapped by the 
 foulest treacherv, lano-ulshed in a 
 dungeon. — I will not pain you with 
 the detail of my sufferings; — suffice 
 it to say, that a faithrul slave, to 
 whom, when I was happy, 1 had 
 been kind, sought and found me, 
 apparently at the point of death. — 
 To my aged father (oh ! affecting 
 legacy !) I bequeathed you, my child ; 
 E 3
 
 78 VAGA. 
 
 and on the word of faith this trusty 
 savage swore to fulfill my last com- 
 mand ; and his blood has attested his 
 fidelity. — Thus far," continued he, " I 
 have instructed you in the past : and 
 now may Heaven direct the future! — In 
 a word, either leave your mother to 
 her fate, or relinquish me for-ever." 
 
 Vaga drew a deep sigh, and, bowing 
 to his decision, as to that from which 
 there is no appeal — *' O God ! O God ! " 
 cried she, '^ must I forego the parent I 
 most love?" 
 
 " No, my child : you are free to 
 choose." 
 
 *' Then, if so," said she, " you are 
 the chosen of my heart — only this 
 grant me : to see her for five minutes, 
 is all I ask." 
 
 " Not one, by heavens." 
 
 " A moment, then — a single mo-
 
 VAGA. 79 
 
 ment— just time to say — ' Here, mo- 
 ther, I have brought you back your 
 purse." 
 
 " Trifler! go to! go to!" said he. 
 " Once clasped to her contaminated 
 bosom, to mine you never again re- 
 turn." — Vaga's convulsive sobs inter- 
 rupted his words; but, summoning 
 all her fortitude to bear her through 
 this scene of trial — 
 
 " Oh! my father!" cried she, '' I 
 must leave you; and, under the pre- 
 sent circuiiistances, 1 know-— or at 
 least I th fik — it is forever. — Pity 
 your poor child ; and lee your parting 
 blessing sweeten the bitterest hour of 
 her life." 
 
 The force of feeling with which 
 this address was pronounceel, was al- 
 most too much for Vaga's heart : — 
 she rested her head against her father's 
 knees; and a sigh, now and then ut- 
 
 E4
 
 80 VAOA. 
 
 teretl, was all that proved she had not 
 fainted. 
 
 A sensation, caused by love and de- 
 spair, held Angelo for some time silent: 
 but pride at length triumphed over af- 
 fection ; and, repressing his grief, he 
 proceeded to support the contest with 
 his daughter. But, as reflexion tem- 
 pered his thoughts — melted by the 
 apprehension of her future suffering, 
 connected with the idea of a separa- 
 tion so sudden from a being whom he 
 was accustomed to regard as the con- 
 solation of his remaining days, and 
 now this dear companion lost to him, 
 perhaps for-ever — as these ideas rushed 
 on his mind, though he had resigned 
 himself to the event — a second con- 
 quest over his grief was unattainable — 
 he wept like a child, — and, placing his 
 right hand on his daughter's head, 
 bles.scd her— then, raising his eyes
 
 VAGA, 81 
 
 to heaven, and blessing her a second 
 time, ejaculated, " And now, Vaga, 
 the prayer of my heart be with you : — 
 may you live happier than your father 
 — better than your mother ! " 
 
 Vaga could only answer with her 
 tears; and Angelo, regaining his voice, 
 resumed — 
 
 " As your mother has lived, so let her 
 die, in ignorance. — She must not know 
 me for her plunderer, nor you for the 
 child of her bosom! — No! no!" (rai- 
 sing his tone impressively) *' I beg — I 
 enjoin you to silence; and, as you pre- 
 serve inviolate your duty to me, may 
 God protect and prosper you ! " 
 
 Vaga's spirits were gone : — she rose 
 from her knees, but could neither 
 speak, nor force herself from the 
 spot ;— and her father, afraid to trust 
 to his fortitude much longer, tremu- 
 lously added — 
 
 e5
 
 82 VAGA. 
 
 " Child ! if you are determined ta 
 quit me, why linger about it ? go, at 
 once." 
 
 ** I cannot," said Vaga, " while you 
 look upon me." 
 
 Angelo, again overpowered, weep- 
 ing — turned his face aside ; and Vaga, 
 now moving towards the door, self- 
 exiled from her only home, went out 
 into the world, a wanderer.
 
 BS 
 
 CHAPTER 2. 
 
 RoRY O'MoRE, entitled the Brave, (a 
 distinction of honor, by the general 
 consent of his countrymen, conferred 
 upon him, in grateful testimvonial of. 
 their high sense of his character, uni- 
 formly marked for intrepid courage — 
 tender humanity — and the most un- 
 blemished honor) was the last male 
 branch of an ancient and respectable 
 Irish family. He was, in every sqnse. 
 of the word, an independent man. 
 His fortune was ample — his mind well 
 stored with useful knowledge — and 
 his disposition liberal. In the connu-
 
 84 VAGA. 
 
 blal state, he enjoyed all the feh'city 
 of which it is susceptible, until he had 
 the misfortune to lose the fair partner 
 of his bliss. — She had brought him two 
 sons, and died in giving birth to a 
 daughter, who survived her deceased 
 parent only a few hours. 
 
 Mr. O'More displayed, on this occa- 
 sion, what may be termed a romantic 
 instance of conjugal affection: faith- 
 ful to the memory of the woman he 
 loved — though literally desolated by 
 her loss, he retained a remembrance of 
 her worth. — So true it is, that a virtu- 
 ous attachment is, in its essence, im^ 
 mortal.— ^To the education and future 
 reputation of his children this gentle- 
 man devoted the whole of his attention 
 and leisure; and the exertions of this 
 able paternal tutor accomplished the 
 great object of rendering, at least, out
 
 VAGA, 85 
 
 of his sons perfect in all things requi- 
 site to preserve the hereditary lustre 
 of his name, and form a brilliant orna- 
 ment to his country. Tartane Angelo 
 O'More, the eldest son, from his earli- 
 est infancy, disclosed the blossoms of 
 future greatness ; and those shoots of 
 intellectual promise, fostered by the 
 sage wisdom of the philosophic father, 
 in attaining maturity, unfolded both 
 bloom and vigor. The subject of 
 this sketch is a real life picture: fame 
 has already celebrated the hero — I only 
 attempt the delineation of the man;— 
 and, while the virtues and abilities, 
 that adorned his character, shall throw 
 him out on the canvass — the shade, 
 cast by his misfortunes, in the back- 
 ground, will give effect to the lights 
 in the piece. 
 
 Ireland, at the time when Tartane 
 was born, was in the state of her pro-
 
 86 VAGA. 
 
 bation — a suffering and dependent pro- 
 vince to the sister country ; her legis- 
 lature and courts of justice subordinate 
 to those of England; — British mono- 
 poly, and British competition — the 
 former excluding foreign commerce, 
 the latter crushing the industry of her 
 people; — the penal statutes in force; 
 — in fine, the most general and un- 
 qualified wretchedness covered the 
 face of the country. A generous 
 pity planted the seeds of that sublime 
 affection, called love of country^ in the 
 young Tartane's mind ; and a classical 
 education confirmed it. It was about 
 this period that the struggles of Ame- 
 rica for independence awakened Ire- 
 land from her death-like slumber: — 
 and, patriotism seconded by the loud 
 assent of a whole people, the Volunteer 
 associations speedily exhibited eighty 
 thousand men in arms, asserting their
 
 VAGA. 87 
 
 rights, and determined to wrest them 
 from the gripe of British usurpation. 
 Mr. G rattan, the inspired advocate 
 and deliverer of his country, in the 
 exercise of his energies on the great 
 national subject, imparted a portion 
 of the divine spirit that animated 
 him ; and the holy flame warmed 
 into new being the nation. — The 
 immortal Flood, and others — not un- 
 like the phoenix — sprang frqm Ire- 
 land's funeral pile, and, uniting their 
 powers with that of their great col- 
 legue, achieved her redemption. 
 
 The subject of this memoir, no less 
 disposed to promote the best interests 
 of his native land, panted to enroll his 
 name with the heroes of his country : 
 but, as a Catholic, alas ! like the dove 
 of Noah, when he could find no foot- 
 ing in the senate, he nestled in the 
 bosom of his country, and was nomi-
 
 88 VAGA. 
 
 nated by the public voice a chief of 
 the old vokinteer army in Ireland. I 
 shall not pretend to follow minutely 
 this Irish patriot through the glorious 
 course of his public life — which, re- 
 sembling the passing meteor, has left 
 his country more benighted, than if it 
 ne'er had shone — but rather say of 
 him, what has been said of the Englisli 
 Roscius, ^' take him all in all; we 
 shall not look upon his like again." — 
 In the field and in the closet, he ap- 
 peared, alike, attempting great things^ 
 and equal to the accomplishment of 
 all : but — fitted by a powerful genius, 
 exclusively to wield the j'eathcrcd 
 sceptre — as a political writer^ he 
 mounted to the acmh of fame — the 
 agitated question of his discourse, par- 
 liamentary reform, and the Catholic 
 claim to participate in the power of 
 the state. The high tone of his sen-
 
 VAGA. 89 
 
 timents, enforced by gigantic talent, 
 fixed the attention of the legislature, 
 as well as that of the admiring mul- 
 titude : he was at once loved, and 
 feared — threatened, and courted — ap- 
 plauded, and condemned. — A price 
 was proposed for his ability : but the 
 trusty patriot, spurning the vile bribe 
 (that hellish instrument of corruption) 
 and having the election, relinquish- 
 ed his dear native land, and chose to 
 live in exile, rather than forego the 
 prerogative of a free and independent 
 opinion ; and, entering into the Spanish 
 service, in his military capacity, di- 
 stinguished for his valour and singular 
 judgement, he was immediately ap- 
 pointed to the command of a company 
 in the Irish brigade — and, in a short 
 time after, sent on a hazardous expe- 
 dition to the Spanish dominions in 
 South America, whence our brave
 
 90 VAGA. 
 
 countryman never returned. It was 
 supposed by some that he had been 
 taken prisoner, and carried up the 
 country: but the received opinion was, 
 that he had fallen in a battle gained 
 by the natives over the Spanish arms. 
 The luminary which spread its light 
 wide around, having shed its last 
 glory — his veteran father lived to wit- 
 ness a perpetual night usurp the place 
 of its illumination in his heart: but a 
 sun-beam, full as bright, soon rose to 
 cheer him. I allude to the singular 
 introduction of Vaga to his favor and 
 protection — as already related by her- 
 self. — I am of opinion, that the human 
 mind, in its construction, is analogous 
 to the vegetable system, as elucidated 
 by the genius of " the Botanic Gar- 
 den," Doctor Darwin. All the giand 
 operations of nature, whether con- 
 nected with the human or vegetable
 
 VAGA. 91 
 
 creation, depend upon stimulus, exer- 
 tion, and sensation (as ably explained 
 by the doctrines of Doctor Brown.) 
 Instinct is certainly 7miural reason: 
 and, on a thorough conviction of its 
 unfailing laws, 1 consider it a power, 
 not only anterior to what is called un- 
 derstanding, but superior to the idea 
 we entertain of rational sense. Rea- 
 son, I grant it, is an essential and pri- 
 mary rule for individual and general 
 action, in the 'regular order of the 
 world ; but there are sometimes situa- 
 tions and events in life, of so complex 
 a nature, as to puzzle the profoundest 
 human wisdom, and darken a judge- 
 ment clear-sighted as that of the wisest 
 man. It is then, this faculty of per- 
 ception distinguishes itself, by a magic 
 process through an extensive line of 
 unperceived ideas : — it is then, the 
 strength of instinct acts — while reason,
 
 9Q VAGA. 
 
 entangled within the web of the thing 
 by her deduced, not unfrequently ex- 
 ercises thought in vain. — Yes, Nature 
 herself then speaks to the human heart; 
 and again and again I have heard her 
 instructive lesson — and again and again 
 practised, without restraint, the just 
 and wholesome precept. — By her in- 
 fluence I have been led to turn my 
 eyes from outward objects, in on my 
 own mind — by her, taught that most 
 useful branch of knowledge — ^' to 
 know myself" — by her • • • • But it 
 would be endless to enumerate the 
 various portions of individual felicity 
 dependent on the operations of this 
 secret power, which, like the flight of 
 genius, rises so high, that it is invisible 
 to the organ of a mortal, and would 
 take thought itself one thousand years 
 to reach it! Such was the perception 
 that regulated the fate of our heroine
 
 VAGA. 93 
 
 —such the cause that preponderated 
 in the scale of her welfare, when her 
 forlorn conditian appealed to the hu- 
 manity of her first friend, and late ve- 
 nerable protector, Rory the Brave. 
 He sheltered the innocence of the 
 creature, because she was destitute : — 
 her hapless state excited his sensibili- 
 ties ; and pity, as it softens and quali- 
 fies the temper, prepares the mind for 
 love. — By a sweet illusion, Vaga came 
 fraught with comfort and consolation 
 to the mourning heart of Tartane's 
 father — she revived those hopes that 
 perished with his lamented son — and, 
 in this respect, formed to him a new 
 existence; for, without hope, life, de- 
 prived of its charm, languishes into 
 inaction, and death ! The hope of hap- 
 piness pursues us from the cradle to 
 the tomb, nor quits us even there. — 
 'Tis thtfood of the soul; and, though
 
 94 VAGA. 
 
 this chameleon may not bestow any 
 solid joy, its enchantments impart a 
 fore-taste of bliss unutterable ; and the 
 pleasure, arising from anticipation, has 
 been generally found to exceed reality. 
 — Yes, sweet soother ! As the glow- 
 worm lends his light to cheer And 
 guide the benighted traveller on his 
 way, you glimmer in our path — 
 though sometimes a delusive meteor, 
 yet always a beneficial light. 
 
 Vaga was no sooner seen by the 
 sage Rory, than she became deai^ to 
 him : — and in Jeelhig, not the sense of 
 reasoriy the attraction lay ! — He did 
 not attempt to contend against the 
 force of nature, which impelled him 
 to rescue from suffering a helpless 
 child: neither did he examine the 
 first principle of an attachment, which, 
 however consistent, he could not tho- 
 roughly understand. One reflexion
 
 VAGA. 95 
 
 was sufficient to him : — as truth is 
 palpable, so the charity of the deed 
 was unequivocal. The vision which 
 most flattered and delighted Mr. 
 O'More in the contemplation of Vaga, 
 was an expression in the countenance, 
 strongly resembling his lost son. — He 
 even fancied the harmonious tones of 
 her voice not unlike the sweet intona- 
 tion of Tartane's organ in his childish 
 days; and, the fond supposition daily 
 gaining ground, many times was he 
 heard to say, while looking tenderly 
 earnest at the little pensioner on his 
 bounty — " Yes, dear Vaga! these 
 charming lineaments, this all-bewitch- 
 ing combination — aye! such is nature's 
 passport; and I admit her claim: — 
 and such was my blooming son, on 
 the day when he abjured, not his 
 country, but his country's corruption. 
 — The boast of his race, and the glory
 
 56 VAGA. 
 
 of his native land, he was : and you, 
 my Vaga ! every hour look more and 
 more his counterpart!" The tears of 
 regret and affection would generally 
 accompany these words, which always 
 concluded with a devout prayer, that 
 she might continue to resemble him 
 uniformly in all things, but his mis- 
 fortunes. 
 
 It was Mr. O'More's maxim, that 
 education should be proportionate to 
 the capacity of the pupil ; and in this 
 opinion he was the disciple of that 
 great master of human nature, Rous- 
 seau. — The light of nature is JxUgious 
 knowledge, — It should be the begifuiing 
 of our inquiries, inasmuch as it must 
 constitute the end of them; for, in 
 this sense, holy writ is a pioneer to 
 the soul ; and the impediments to hap- 
 piness being once thrown down by the 
 true knowledge of God — the gates of
 
 VAGA. gy 
 
 paradise are opened before you. Reli- 
 gion, ri^A/Zj/ cultivated, is the per/ec- 
 tlon o^ education, because it co-operates 
 to bring about the several ends of di- 
 vine Providence, necessary to the well- 
 being of its creatures — otherwise dead 
 parts of Nature, unless invigorated by 
 virtue of this great principle, which is, 
 to a noble mind, what sculpture is to 
 marble — for *' the figure is in the stone; 
 and the art of the statuary only, finds 
 it" — inasmuch, as the Divinity " is 
 with man, and in him, and every where 
 about him,' though concealed among 
 the superfluous matter, and rubbish 
 clay : — but there is a help always 
 at hand to bring it to light; and this 
 is, as religion expresses itself, " cha- 
 rity, and the love of our neighbour'' 
 To this great and sublime science of 
 the soul, Mr. O'More wisely directed 
 the application of Vaga ; and on this 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 9S VAGA. 
 
 subject, as well as other efforts of 
 human genius, his exertions were 
 crowned with the most desirable 
 success. It has been observed, that 
 the " perception of the female mind 
 is as quick as lightning ; by a 
 glance of her eye she shall pene- 
 trate, and look into the watch-work 
 of the human heart : — and, examine 
 her on its several parts, how clear 
 her comprehension ! how acute her 
 replies! — but ask her how she got 
 there, and she will tell you, that is 
 more than she knows herself." Such 
 is the wonderful perception of woman, 
 something 7no7^e, though less in the ag- 
 gregate, than the solid judgement of 
 man ! Vaga's sage preceptor, in the 
 course of his instruction, smoothed 
 every difficulty, made the way clear 
 before her — and the mount that ter- 
 minated her inquiries, though steep,
 
 VAGA. 99 
 
 b\^ the exercise of proper exertion, 
 she climbed in due time to the sum- 
 mit. — To convey information with ef- 
 fect, we should minutely study the 
 passions and consult the dispositions 
 of the pupil, in order, as it were, to 
 become subordinate to the natural 
 system, which, if well understood, 
 prescribes more or less for itself. 
 Nothing so plastic as Nature — no- 
 thing so susceptible of improvement, 
 as the human mind! — But then, as 
 throughout the whole order of things, 
 in like manner, intellect has its several 
 classes, and degrees. — Here, one man 
 soars, and wings his flight through all 
 the elements of science: — there, a be- 
 ing of the same species, instead of ri- 
 sing, falls beneath the pressure of some 
 invisible weight. — The features of Na- 
 ture are not more various than those 
 of the human understanding. The 
 
 F 2
 
 100 VAGA. 
 
 same means to acquire knowledge are 
 alike open to all capacities : but to in- 
 dustry unaided by sagacity, what has 
 been said of superficial observers, may 
 again be applied — It is like '* a look- 
 ing-glass, which receives the images 
 of all things, but retains none." — 
 By the same argument, we shall find, 
 that the sun shines on the dung-hill, 
 as well as on a bed of roses: but 
 then, let it be demanded, whether 
 its properties are as beneficial to the 
 one, as to the other? — It is in vain to 
 expect that a fine and dehcate plant 
 can take root, and flourish, on a barren 
 rock. Education may correct and 
 govern the temper and manners — may 
 check and restrain wayward inclina- 
 tion : but I maintain, it cannot make 
 a mind! — No ! that is the exclusive 
 work of the living God, who conde- 
 scends to style himself our father,
 
 VAGA. 101 
 
 and who, as a father, has communi- 
 cated to his children every essential 
 precept towards the attainment of hap- 
 piness here, and in a future state! To 
 this end, the Scriptures need only be 
 consulted, as they contain directions 
 for the rule of life, adapted to every 
 understanding, however limited — how- 
 ever enlightened. The precepts spoken 
 by the Redeemer of mankind, how plain 
 and easy to be understood ! — The learn- 
 ed are charmed by their purity, strength, 
 and spirit — and the most ignorant 
 taught, and delighted by the fairest 
 features of composition, a beautiful 
 sinipUcity — or, in other words, the 
 moral sublime! — It were endless to 
 pursue this subject through all its 
 ramifications, admitting the slow 
 growth of my reason competent to 
 the task: vet I must not dismiss it, 
 without at least re-tracing its laws 
 F 3
 
 102 VAGA. 
 
 (intelligible to the meanest capacity) 
 in the earnest desire to conform my- 
 self to them, which signify, '' to love 
 mercy, to practiseJ^^Z/ce, and to live 
 in j&e^ce with all men/' — Reader! this 
 is the receipt to mahe the mind, to re- 
 claim the heart, and to produce tlie 
 first best fruits of our nature — inno- 
 cence, and grateful love — each in itself 
 a perpetual source to the increase of 
 our true happiness and honor. Having 
 thus far endeavoured to prove that re- 
 ligious know^ledge is the most essential 
 study of the human mind, and superior 
 to every other, as the only sure founda- 
 tion of virtue, and that its positions are 
 so concise and simple, the acquirement 
 of it is so easy, that it strikes like in- 
 spiration — my next effort shall be to 
 illustrate its efiicacy. 
 
 It w^as an early exhortation to reli- 
 gion, that 2:ave the bias to our Vaga's
 
 VAGA. 103 
 
 mind, upon which her character finally 
 fixed, as the hasis of its high and un- 
 bending tone. — While yet a child, she 
 understood religion, as a child : — and, 
 when advanced to her fifteenth year, 
 what she had been accustomed to re- 
 gard as a duty, became an object of 
 delight. That she was excellent, was 
 the work of the Divinity ; and that she 
 had arrived to the highest degree of 
 human perfection, was the work of 
 religion. — She excelled in all things, 
 but most in this ! — It was religion that 
 forn)ed for her mind a coat of mail^ 
 impenetrable to every assault of the 
 common enemy, at war with virtue ! 
 — It was religion that exalted her un- 
 derstanding, and threw out the most 
 beautiful parts of it, where the light 
 of genius would fall, and show them to 
 most advantage. 
 
 Vaga's childhood passed unclouded. 
 f4
 
 104 VAGA. 
 
 She was literally the soul of sensibi- 
 lity — sprung from love — and warmed 
 into life by kindness; nor ever did 
 she know a sorrow, until the bright 
 beam of her joy set on the tomb of 
 the friend who cherished her in her 
 infancy : — and, for every favor past, 
 the tear of gratitude yet glistens in 
 her eye — balming the remembrance 
 inurned in her heart. This blessed 
 patron lost — how changed the scene ! 
 No longer the distinguished favorite 
 — see her, neglected, and forlorn — 
 shunned for her misfortunes, by the 
 heartless, and on the false charge of 
 affectation, (how shall I write it down ?) 
 a marky for knaves and fools to shoot 
 at. But, then, reader, let it be under- 
 stood, '* the shaft flies harmless, when 
 it is undeserved." A patient suflterer 
 she was; and, though affliction poured 
 in upon her, she never told her grief.
 
 VAGA. 105 
 
 because, to the marble-hearted she 
 could not look for pity — and, though 
 her gentleness might tame the fiercest 
 beast, when demons animate human 
 bodies, the odds are against nature! 
 
 Poor Vaga ! What ! would not 
 
 one spare you? one give the game, at 
 least, fair play? No! false friends 
 hemmed her in ; and, when by stra- 
 tagem netted — contrary to every law, 
 a fell pack plundered the prey, yet 
 living, of all her golden plumage — 
 ay, plucked out every feather, and 
 stripped her to the bone ! — But, the 
 mercy of God — of him who " tem- 
 pers the wind to the shorn lamb" 
 — in the hour of Vaga's extremity, 
 sent, to her deliverance, a friend — a 
 father! — The heart where benevo- 
 lence fixed her temple, was the pater- 
 nal home of the wanderer — and, might 
 F 5
 
 106 VAGA. 
 
 affection unbarthegates, would open for 
 her reception the portals of the world. 
 
 The followino; diofression will make 
 plain those points in Vaga's history, 
 which may at present appear obscure. 
 It will be observed, that no other men- 
 tion has yet been made of the late Mr. 
 O'More's youngest son, than the bare 
 announcement of his name. But, as 
 this gentleman is material to the his- 
 tory, we must not any longer suffer 
 his character to lie in shade. 
 
 Owen O'More, from the moment 
 he drew his first breath, was what we 
 call an *^ ill-favored" plant. He was 
 turbulent and tyrannical from his in- 
 fancy : he was impatient of reproof, 
 and hostile to command ; and, in com- 
 mon with all common boys, he loved 
 mischief, for mischief's sake. No effort 
 could bend his mind to take instruc-
 
 VAGA, 107 
 
 •tion. To coercion he was hardened ; 
 and, to piinisliment or reward, he was 
 alike insensible i — a dunce in grain, he 
 hated any thing and every thing in 
 the form of letters ; and such lessons, 
 as the persevering application of his 
 father had forced into his head, he 
 gabbled over like a parrot, without 
 the smallest idea of what they meant. 
 However, his capacity lay another 
 way. — Dull only where 772md was con- 
 cerned, none could be more expert at 
 invention : — he could give the lie to 
 truth, without blushing — contradict 
 his own evidence, without stammer- 
 ing — and, then, either shift or twist 
 himself out of the petty perjury, with 
 incredible ingenuity: — and, for tortu- 
 ring animals, insects, &c. his aptitude 
 was no less keen. — The mischievous, 
 rat, or the sweetest bird of the spring, 
 whose morning lay pours forth the.
 
 108 VAGA. 
 
 note of love — the stinging insect, or 
 the domestic cat, (that most useful, but 
 calumniated and persecuted animal) 
 the variegated butterfly, the playful 
 kitten, the unweaned lamb, the kid 
 just dropped — all, all, if unfortunately 
 at his mercy, equally felt the coxvard 
 lash, and the rage o^ power. To a dis- 
 position thus prone to evil, we may 
 reasonably conclude, excellence was 
 odious. His brother's acknowledged 
 merit he considered as a reproof to 
 him ; — and what he could never love, 
 he learned in time to hate. — Fondly 
 devoted to his pleasures, sensual gra- 
 tification was the darling passion of 
 his heart — and the love of sway, the 
 master feeling of his nature. Great 
 he could never be — rpowerful he might 
 be — and to this end, when by grant of 
 parliament Catholics were permitted 
 to study and practise the law, he ob-
 
 VAGA. 109 
 
 tained a degree at Trinity College — 
 was entered a student at Lincoln's Inn, 
 and, after serving his terms, (or, more 
 properly speaking, shuffling through 
 his probationary course) he was called 
 to the Irish bar. The next step to 
 this gentleman's preferment was a 
 wife with 2i fortune; but here his un- 
 bridled desires played him a trick. 
 Delighting in the pleasures of the 
 table, a good dish was his constant 
 look out — and, in order effectually 
 to secure it; he literally married his 
 cook-maid. It will be remarked, that 
 Mr. Owen O'More had hitherto at- 
 tended the Four-courts, without deri- 
 ving from his legal abilities what would 
 pay for the powder in his wig. Yet, 
 " ways and means'' may replenish an 
 empty bag : — but, for an empty head 
 — the whole exchequer, were it ex- 
 pended, could not furnish it. The
 
 TIQ VAGA. 
 
 learned gentleman, not too nice to 
 stick at the mere pursuits of a lawyer 
 — and sagacious enough to know that 
 there was another road to eminence, 
 besides the prescribed forms of plead- 
 ing — set all his wits to work to make 
 a 7iame — assured that emolument would 
 come of course; and striking into a 
 well-known ^^ beaten path,'' commenced 
 pamphleteer — fathered essays vended 
 by indigent genius — manufactured 
 speeches, with the aid o^ m^kny head^ — 
 and was heard in every public meeting, 
 thunderiiig forth the rights of the 
 people, or, as some wags would have 
 it, ^' barking ^ox place!'' Certain it is, 
 the caricature of " the dog in office" 
 was shortly after exhibited in the 
 print-shops; and Mr. O'More hence- 
 fbrward figured in a new cliaracter. — 
 He became what is called a hack ; and 
 a better going hireling was not in
 
 VAGA. Ill 
 
 the service. The hero mounts the 
 throne of fame, and the malefactor 
 ascends the ladder to disgrace. Mr. 
 O'More was also rising ! ! f A fine 
 house in town, a villa in the country — 
 a swarm of pampered lackeys in his 
 hall, a stud royal in his stable — car- 
 riages, to drive down the vulgar — 
 feasts for the rich — kicks for the poor 
 — cards, balls, and concerts — plays, 
 masquerades, 'drawing-room conversa- 
 zioni, and 'drawing-room company — 
 the former, compliment, mock-mo- 
 desty, scandal, and intrigue — the latter, 
 all the little great — wives in requi- 
 sition — married men in demand — 
 *' maids, as they are" — bachelors, and 
 their widows and children — Honorable 
 gentlemen, and the purveyors of their 
 pleasures — led captains on their legs, 
 and generals on the staff — bloods, half 
 dead — belles, half alive — bullies, bra^
 
 112 VAGA. 
 
 voes, boasters, and moderns of every 
 denomination ! In short, Mr. and Mrs. 
 O'More were universally allowed, by 
 the Dublin fashionables, to do the 
 thing in good style. — This thrifty, but 
 learned gentleman in the law (if we 
 will take his own word for it) was 
 beginning to get forward in his profes- 
 sion /i/ir/z/ enough; and now that the 
 fate of Tartane, his elder brother, had 
 become doubtful, hope began to buzz 
 something about ** golden fleece,'' in 
 his ear. — Earthly happiness, however, 
 must have some draw- back ; and Vaga 
 was indeed the only alloy to the tri- 
 umph of his heart. In vain he expos- 
 tulated with his father, on the ridicu- 
 lous folly of charging himself with the 
 care of a creature, whom no one knew 
 — in vain represented to the old man, 
 that he had no i^ight to indulge his 
 caprice by the adoption of any incum"
 
 VAGA. lis 
 
 brance inimical to the interest of his 
 heir. But his oratory on this subject 
 proved ineffectual : the old man was 
 assured that he could justify himself 
 to himself — that his meaning was good 
 — and, admitting that he erred in judge- 
 ment, (which he begged leave to doubt) 
 he peremptorily refused to repair the 
 trespass by any act hostile to huma- 
 nity. Every wise man has always, in 
 case of defeat, some mental reserva- 
 tion. — Mr. O'More was wonderfully 
 alert at facing whichsoever way his 
 i?zterest lay : and, as matters now stood, 
 he conceived the Italian maxim, 
 " thoughts close, looks loose," his 
 best policy; and accordingly, sup- 
 pressing his resentments, he afterward 
 so conducted himself to the little 
 stranger, as to impress upon his father, 
 that he had at last learned charity of 
 him.
 
 114 VAGA. 
 
 It was Vaga's misfortune to lose 
 her benefactor by sudden death. He 
 had enjoyed sound health to the day 
 that terminated his existence; for 
 wisdom and virtue had been the com- 
 panions of his hfe ; and, in old age, he 
 still preserved that perpetual bloom 
 with which they reward their vota- 
 ries. 
 
 Vaga made no parade either of her 
 love or her grief; but, mourning in 
 the nerve most tender, literally washed 
 "with her tears the grave of her bene- 
 factor. The extent of her loss, how- 
 ever, she had yet to learn. That a 
 provision adequate to her future inde- 
 pendence would be fouiul in her 
 ^patron's ivillj she never once doubted 
 — he having communicated to her 
 his pleasure in this instance, and 
 even proceeded so far, as to specify 
 the sum — ample indeed. But, when,
 
 VAGA. 115 
 
 on tlie demise of Mr. O'More, the heir 
 apparent arrived, the c/ot;e/z foot, now 
 casting every disguise, bared itself to 
 the view. — *' A zvilir' said he — " a 
 tenant for life make a will ! — and for 
 whom ? for a beggar ! — No ! no ! his 
 sins, in that way, were carried far 
 enough during his life time : but the 
 devil himself could not work upon 
 him to drag his crimes beyond the 
 grave. — 'Twas blasphemy ^ven to 
 think it : — -and for the insolent who 
 dared to say it, she only verified the 
 old proverb, * set a beggar on horse- 
 back, and he'll ride to the devil.' But 
 pride always got a fall." Then, ** idle- 
 ness was the root of all evil" — " the 
 poor must work for their bread" — and 
 '* beggars must not be choosers." 
 These, and many more quaint say- 
 ings, were repeated by the Counsellor, 
 for the edification of his hearers, mak-
 
 116 VAGA. 
 
 ing it a rule, whensoever liis own brains 
 failed him, always to have recourse to 
 those of others. His next care was 
 to examine, xvithout witnesses, all his 
 father's papers, and to destroy such 
 documents as might threaten in any 
 manner to turn out to his disadvan- 
 tage ; which being accomplished, 
 without the smallest ceremony, he 
 demanded — or, in other words, com* 
 manded Vaga to deliver up her keys, 
 and, proceeding to make what he 
 called a legal search — claimed, and 
 actually appropriated to his own pri- 
 vate use, every article of value, that 
 had been given to her by her benefac- 
 tor, not excepting her wardrobe — very 
 deliberately remarking, that she must 
 now fashion her dress to her circum- 
 stances. It was at this memorable 
 juncture that Angelo appeared; and 
 we are already acquainted with the
 
 VAGA. 117 
 
 result of his visit. — Having made a 
 retrograde movement, as relating to 
 the present memoir, the next chapter 
 shall carry my readers forward, in pur- 
 suit of the wanderer, Vaga, whom we 
 shall overtake some eighty miles di- 
 stant from her father's cottage — lodged 
 in a two-pair room, in an obscure 
 street in Dublin, and employed in 
 pious attendance on the sick bed of a 
 wretched — too wretched mother.
 
 118 
 
 CHAPTER 3. 
 
 *' Cheer ! cheer !" said Vaga — " Fear 
 not! you will soon be well — and"- • • • 
 she would have added " happy:" but 
 a secret sense within her arrested the 
 word. 
 
 The sufferer fixed her hand to her 
 heart; and tears rolled down her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Chili, are you in pain?" inquired 
 Vaga tenderly. 
 
 '* Yes, Vaga : — 1 feel for you.'' 
 
 ^' Why forme?" asked Vaga. 
 
 ** Because," replied the sufferer, " in 
 return for the comfort you bring me,
 
 VAGA. 119 
 
 I give you nothing but trouble and 
 sorrow." 
 
 Vaga could make no answer. 
 
 " Why did you leave your kind pro- 
 tector, to follow a forlorn?" 
 
 " The action did not depend on my 
 will," said Vaga. " Twas an impulse 
 that I could not resist ; and my heart 
 approves, and rejoices in it." 
 
 " And will you continue to stay by 
 
 me?" 
 
 " So long," said Vaga, " as you are 
 in need." 
 
 *' This is heavenly love, and charity," 
 softly whispered the invalid — *' Yes ! 
 such love, as Heaven bears to its crea- 
 tures — such love as Angelo has shown 
 to Vaga — such love as Vaga cherishes 
 for such a friend." 
 
 ** I could not love any one as I love 
 Angelo," said Vaga — " because I can 
 esteem no other so much."
 
 120 VAGA. 
 
 '* And will you not return to 
 him?" 
 
 ** Yes, when I liave done my duty 
 to you in your distress." 
 
 " Think, Vaga, when the purse is 
 run out"- • • • 
 
 " God will replenish it," said Vaga, 
 interrupting the speaker. — *' We will 
 put our trust in him ; and he never yet 
 failed any that had confidence in his 
 mercy." 
 
 The foregoing dialogue illustrates 
 the devout obedience instanced by 
 Vaga to the will of her father. What- 
 ever struggles it might cost her to 
 surmount her own feelings in the pre- 
 servation of the secret, a due regard to 
 him, who exacted the self-sacrifice, 
 enabled her religiously to fulfill it; 
 for, though, in the softness of her 
 nature, prone to yield, yet, whenever 
 duty dictated, she rigorously con-
 
 VAGA. 121 
 
 formed herself to its laws, though in 
 opposition to the most seductive 
 pleadings of the heart. 
 
 I shall pass over the succeeding in- 
 terval, as it admits only of repetition, 
 and take up the narrative at rather a 
 pressing juncture in our heroine's life, 
 viz. the want of money. To her fa- 
 ther she dared scarcely look for suc- 
 cour: but, independent of his sup- 
 posed resentment, she had learned, 
 that, on her departure from him, he 
 instantly quitted the cottage ; and no 
 one could tell whither he had betaken 
 himself. Her mind, however, had 
 been in some degree prepared for 
 the present exigence; and, anxious 
 to avert the visitation of calamity 
 from an unhappy parent still suffer- 
 ing under a nervous complication — 
 and having either heard, or read, of 
 the immense sums paid to female 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 VAGA. 
 
 authors, in the present day, for even 
 indifFerent works, she determined to 
 make a trial of her literary abilities ; 
 and making choice of a subject, often 
 touched, but never to be exhausted, 
 she produced the following sketch, 
 entitled, " a late Visit to the Lake of 
 Killarney*," the enchantments of which 
 first inspired her muse, when, in her 
 twelfth year, she accompanied her 
 deceased patron, to view that scene 
 of beauty — the boast of Ireland, and 
 ornament of the world ! 
 
 * In May, 1810, the author presented this piece 
 to the Hibernian Magazine, published by the lli her- 
 nia Press Company, which was honored with im- 
 mediate insertion. — See the No. for that month.
 
 VAGA. 123 
 
 Descriptmi of a late Visit to the Lake 
 of Killarney, 
 
 Vaga and her protector set off from 
 Cork, mounted on a pair of smart 
 docked ponies. — They came under the 
 denomination of flying travellers ; and 
 the rapidity of their progression pre- 
 cluded all observation ; which, no 
 doubt, is a loss to the curious, as 
 the high road from Cork to Mac romp 
 furnishes subject worthy their know- 
 ledge. Their expedition attained only 
 the one interesting point: it hastened 
 the moment of embracing a friend, and 
 shortened the impatient solicitude of 
 her affectionate heart for their arrival. 
 — Her hospitable board bade them wel- 
 come ; and the benign countenance of 
 g2
 
 124 VAC A. 
 
 their hostess gave the highest flavour 
 to the rich viands. — They spent the 
 evening in that easy confidence, which 
 real friendship only knows; and the 
 next day Vaga commenced her jour- 
 nal, as follows : — 
 
 August 24th. — An angry sky, and 
 frequent violent showers; however, 
 as we had appointed to meet our 
 party in * * * , on we must proceed, 
 in defiance of the warring elements. 
 At 12, left Ash Grove hehind us, and 
 cantered for ten miles over a rude 
 rocky country, where the hand of cul- 
 tivation can nowhere be discovered — 
 not a tree to be seen, till we reached 
 Mr. Leader's, a neat-looking house — 
 the front ground improved on a small 
 scale — a meandering river, encircling 
 its verdant banks, catches the atten- 
 tion ; and the eye, relieved from the
 
 VAGA. 125 
 
 weary tract of heavy bog and sterile 
 mountains, rests with pleasure upon 
 this smiling scene. 
 
 Dined at * ^ '^' , and reached Killar- 
 ney by 8 o'clock. — As there are but 
 two inns in the town, we soon dis- 
 covered our party. The ensuing morn- 
 ing was appointed for feasting ourselves 
 on the beauties of Killarney, of which 
 we had heard so much. I rose on the 
 25th, impatient to view the rich scenes 
 my imagination had painted in glow- 
 ing colors. The moment at length 
 arrives for setting off. — A mile from 
 the town, we take boats at a place 
 called Ross Island, on which is built 
 a barrack, of modern appearance, and 
 also a castle, which does not look so 
 antique as its foundation. A little 
 more ivy would add to its venerable 
 appearance. — At this castle we stepped 
 into our barge — clarionets, and French- 
 G 3
 
 126 VAGA. 
 
 horns playing. — Behold us now on the 
 expansive bosom of the lake — ten 
 miles in length and five in breadth — 
 scattered with islands covered with 
 the most luxuriant verdure, and trees 
 of the riciiest foliage. — The lake on 
 one side is checked in its extent by 
 mountains, which, rising abruptly to 
 a perpendicular height, form a thou- 
 sand fantastic shapes, and are lost to 
 the sight, in the clouds. — Trees, as 
 ancient as the soil, rise with majestic 
 grandeur from the borders of the bene- 
 fic'ent waters, and ascend to the sum- 
 mit of the hills, 
 
 " Where, 
 
 At fall of eve, the fairy people throng, 
 
 In various games and revelry to pass 
 
 The summer night, as village stories tell*.' 
 
 We landed at the foot of the grand 
 water-fall, which, from a quantity of 
 
 * Thomson.
 
 VAGA. 127 
 
 rain that had poured from the heavens 
 the night before, swelled the cataract 
 to a prodigious degree. — The dash of 
 water was deafening ; and the diffe- 
 rent breaks formed one of the most 
 sparkling, animated, foaming, beautiful 
 objects I had ever seen, and more par* 
 ticularly so, when contrasted with the 
 deep, solemn gloom of the surround- 
 ing woods, bending gracefully their 
 leafy branches over the roaring tor- 
 rent, and then raising their bold heads, 
 as if attending the Naiads " to their 
 favorite haunts in the cool fountains." 
 — We stood for an hour in one of their 
 recesses, listening to their music, and 
 dazzling our weak sight with the gran- 
 deur of the cascade. — Little simple- 
 looking girls, that a sportive fancy 
 might easily mistake for wood nymphs, 
 were every moment popping on us 
 through the thick foliage, and pre- 
 G 4
 
 128 VAGA. 
 
 senting baskets of nuts. Here, where 
 the human hand could in no part be 
 discovered, nor sound of footsteps 
 heard, these sudden apparitions had 
 an indescribable effect ! 
 
 With slow and reluctant step we 
 returned to our barge — an awful 
 solemnity impressed on our minds, 
 which imperceptibly gave place to 
 livelier sensations, as our pleased at- 
 tention fixed on the picturesque sce- 
 nery around the lake, dressed in all 
 the varied, fascinating beauty with 
 which Nature clothes her choicest 
 works. 
 
 We had now proceeded to Glen-na, 
 when our eyes with wonder were en- 
 chained ; — lost in admiration and mute 
 attention, we gazed 1 — Ever}^ thing we 
 had just been delighted with, seemed 
 but the every-day work of inferior 
 agents — all our ideas of the sublime,
 
 VAGA. 129 
 
 united to the beautiful, were, indeed, 
 but imperfect human ideas I — Here the 
 hand of the great "Architect" was visi- 
 ble; a liigher style of the grand could 
 not be borne by the feeble organs of 
 man. If our notions of the Deity per- 
 mitted us to suppose that Omnipotence 
 ever reposed, Glen-na would be the 
 hallowed retreat. — Inferior angels, I 
 am willing to think, sometimes quit 
 Elysium, and deign to rest in this ter- 
 restrial paradise! — -We sounded olu: 
 French-horns: — Echo, in her deep 
 recess, caught the sound, and returned 
 the salutation, in notes so softly dul- 
 cet, as melted the soul all to harmony. 
 — We were called off from listening to 
 her melody, by some fishermen who 
 were drawing a net near the Glen. — 
 They caught two of the natives, which 
 we purchased, and left with the inha- 
 bitants of a cottage, which peeped from 
 g5
 
 130 VAGA, 
 
 under the deep-embosomed shades. 
 This smiling, simple retreat is reserved 
 by Lord Kenmare, the noble magician 
 of this enchanted ground, for the con- 
 venience of those who visit Killarney. 
 — Under this rural shed we proposed 
 dining ; and, whilst our salmon were 
 roasting, we rowed under a high arch, 
 built by Colonel Herbert, as a commu- 
 nication between Muckress and the 
 opposite lands, into the middle lake, 
 and nearly round the loveliest spot 
 under the heavens — ** Muckress!" to 
 embellish which, all the elegance of 
 taste, combined with the skill of art, 
 and magic exertions of wonder-work- 
 ing Nature, are united, and so curiously 
 blended, as puzzles the most inquisi- 
 tive observers, to separate the ingenious 
 labors of man from the wildly luxuri- 
 ant productions of Nature. All that 
 part of Muckress, which is washed by
 
 VAGAV 131 
 
 the waters of the lake, presents to the 
 eye one continued chain of vast solid 
 rock, out of the impenetrable sides of 
 which grow arbutes, and various ever- 
 greens of the richest foliage. You 
 behold with astonishment a founda- 
 tion of massy rock, fringed, from the 
 very base to the summit^ with a thou- 
 sand different trees ; the mountain- 
 ash, now in full berry, bursting their 
 scarlet clusters through the shining 
 deep green of the holly, and the lighter 
 shade of the arbutes, forcing way to 
 the crystal bosom of the lake, and of- 
 fering their tempting fruit to the 
 Genius of the waters. 
 
 Our boat passed a great mis-shapen 
 rock, in the middle of the lake: when 
 we had left it some distance, the boat- 
 men called back our attention to it. 
 It now bore the exact figure of a 
 gigantic horse, in the act of drinking.
 
 132 VAGA. 
 
 Its appearance is very curious ; it is 
 called Horse- rock. 
 
 Tlie signal for dinner was given ; 
 and we obeyed the summons; when, 
 had we been epicures, we should have 
 been feasted on the delicious salmon, 
 which, on the lake, is dressed with 
 great excellence. The fish is quar- 
 tered, and each quarter spitted on a 
 small wooden stick, the ends stuck 
 into the ground, round a fire that is 
 kindled on the green sod, and in that 
 manner roasted. The windows of our 
 rustic cottao-e commanded an exten- 
 sive view of the lake, which presented 
 a scene of tranquil beauty, not to be 
 described. Our music played at in- 
 tervals, and time passed unheeded 
 away. 
 
 The bright orb of day had run his 
 course: his rays were collected in one 
 focus : the rich tinge, shed by his de-
 
 VAGA. 133 
 
 parting beams on the horizon, was re- 
 flected on the smooth surface of the 
 waters, over which our barge lightly 
 swam, soft music phiying. — The bright 
 gilding of the mountain became fainter 
 and fainter : — the glow imperceptibly 
 faded to the sober grey of night. The 
 ombrageous shade of the majestic fo- 
 rest threw an awful gloom over the 
 contiguous objects, which were slowly 
 disappearing from our sight. — All was 
 silence : — the rowers rested on their 
 oars : Contemplation sat on tlie helm ; 
 when suddenly attention was roused 
 from her deep musing, by a sound 
 from the French-horn, which was 
 answered by Echo, in notes of hea- 
 venly sweetness. 
 
 The nymph of melody seemed will- 
 ing to accompany us, from her loved 
 abode Glen-na, to Ross Castle, to which 
 we were approaching. Her melting
 
 134 VAGA. 
 
 voice was thrilling through ourenrap^ 
 tured souls. — A glittering meteor sud- 
 denly appeared, playing on the undu- 
 lated waves. — I doubted not but 'twas 
 the nymph herself, charmed from her 
 retreat: — but this was the mistake of 
 the moment- • • -Behold the moon, soft 
 beauteous planet ! rising with mild ra- 
 diance, dispersing the heavy gloom, and 
 shedding a serene light over the woods 
 and waters. Ten thousand stars at- 
 tended in her train, and strewed her 
 path with sparkling splendor. 
 
 We landed under Ross Castle, quit- 
 ted this scene of enchantment with 
 keen wishes to return, soon as ex- 
 hausted nature was refreshed. 
 
 26th. — The day smiled propitious : 
 we were again on the lower lake, and 
 rowing away to the island of Ennis- 
 fallew, which we had not time to visit 
 yesterday. It contains seventeen acres
 
 VAGA. 135 
 
 — a flat island, different from all the 
 others, free from rocks, and the soil 
 too rich to produce tillage; but trees, 
 of prodigious size and luxuriance, are 
 natives of the ground. Except at 
 Muckress, the largest trees grow at 
 Ennisfallew. — Here is an old abbey 
 covered with ivy, in ruins, and run 
 over with nettles and briars. — I made 
 my way through them, but was not 
 compensated for being stung and 
 scratched. Little more than the out- 
 side walls remain. This island was 
 (fabled story tells) the abode of the 
 Genius of the Lakes; and he is often 
 seen rising from the deep, crowned 
 with coral and sea-weeds — at that 
 hour when spirits play their gambols, 
 and scare poor simple maids from their 
 prayers. — As I have never seen his 
 saintship, I cannot tell you what form 
 he assumes.
 
 136 VAGA. 
 
 We left these verdant and shady 
 banks, and rowed away to the upper 
 lake. — On our approach to it, we 
 landed at the island of Dinas, that our 
 boat might pass a narrow neck of 
 communication between the tw'o lakes, 
 where the current is so rapid, that 
 the boat is carried by its violence, for 
 the space of forty yards, with the 
 swiftness of an arrow from a bow. 
 
 Dinas is a bewitching spot — it is 
 more wildly rural than any thing I 
 had yet seen. — All view of the sub- 
 lime is here lost : rustic simplicity, 
 but graceful, animated, and alluring, is 
 the leading feature. Banks of the 
 most refreshing verdure invite repose 
 — arbutes, laurel, and holly, promise 
 eternal shade — the blackbird, thrush, 
 linnet, and various other sweet cho- 
 risters, fill the air with the wildest 
 harmony. A million of tlow^ers spring
 
 VAGA. 157 
 
 perpetually under our feet, and ena- 
 mel the soft carpet with colors of 
 the most delicate tint. — The wildly- 
 spreading branches of the oak repel 
 the bleak winds in their impetuous 
 career, and form an impenetrable bar- 
 rier against their destructive blasts. — 
 Boreas never enters this tranquil re- 
 treat : the gentlest Zephyrs only in- 
 habit here, sport through the groves, 
 and wanton under the fragrant leaves 
 of the rose and eglantine. 
 
 On the bleeding bark of an ash-tree 
 I carved my name ; and here our 
 party fixed to dine; so I quitted it 
 with less regret, as I was sure of re- 
 turning once more to this delightful 
 Eden. — Here every object was sooth- 
 ing, cheerful, and interesting ; the 
 mind was not elevated to scenes too 
 immense for the human powers to 
 support : Nature was in her loveliest;
 
 138 VAGA. 
 
 garb — the robe of simplicity gracefully 
 thrown, and flowing in easy folds. — 
 We resumed our seats in the barge, 
 and entered on the upper lake, a long, 
 narrow sheet of water, (by no means 
 so wide as the lower one) diversified 
 with numberless rocks, raising ab- 
 ruptly their heads out of the prolific 
 lake, crowned with ever-greens. On 
 some of those islands (if solid rocks 
 may be called islands) particular trees 
 are the only natives. One is covered 
 with arbutes, another with holly ; on 
 another the mountain ash is predomi- 
 nant. The picturesque scenery on 
 each side, and to the utmost boundary 
 of the horizon, is wild and romantic, 
 beyond the powers of description to 
 paint in just colors. The surround- 
 ing Turk and Mongerton tower above 
 all the surrounding mountains: their 
 proud heads rise superb above the
 
 VAGA. 139 
 
 clustering hills, brave the rushing 
 torrent dashing down their sides, and 
 mock the rude north blast of the merci- 
 less tempest. Stripped of every verdure 
 except the purple heath, they still as» 
 cend boldly, till their majestic heads 
 are completely lost in the expansive 
 heavens. Fancy, in her most extrava- 
 gant humour, seems to have sketched 
 the landscape. The character of the 
 piece is very different from what 
 strikes the observer at the lower lake : 
 —there the sublime and beautiful are 
 never lost sight of: — here the wildly 
 beautiful profusely scattered, without 
 order or harmony, over hill and dale, 
 meet the wandering eye ; and some- 
 times the beautiful is totally lost. 
 The rudely wild — the bold — the tre- 
 mendous, and sublime, (particularly 
 under the eagle's nest) is, each step, 
 astonishing the spectator,-— Here Na-
 
 140 VAGA. 
 
 ture is not so beneficent a parent, as 
 on the majestic woody hills around 
 the lower lake: — we beheld sfiofantic 
 mountains extending into a million of 
 fantastic shapes, and from their great 
 height destitute of their most fascina- 
 ting garb — clothed, towards their sum- 
 mit, only with purple heath ; however, 
 the rich vales and glens, profusely 
 wooded, and with cool springs, regale 
 the eye, wearied by too long a gaze 
 on the sublime works of the great Di- 
 vinit}^ 
 
 We landed on an island towards 
 the extremity of the lake, called Ro- 
 man's Island. — It contains about two 
 acres, and has its title from a gentle- 
 man of that name, who lives near 
 Cork. He is a lover of solitude, and 
 of the sports of the field : — he has 
 taken this little spot, on which he has 
 built a cottage — the object of our at-
 
 vaga; 141 
 
 traction : but we repented our visit : — • 
 beastly inan (in the absence of the 
 owner) has renderetl it a sty for hogs, 
 though Nature designed it a habitation 
 worthy gods. 
 
 The sweet fragrance of Dinas was 
 delicious, and banished from our mind 
 our late disagreeable visit. 
 
 27th — Was a wet day. — However, 
 we went in carriages to a revievv^ 
 
 28th. — A glorious day — and spent 
 it in visiting Muckress, and Lord 
 Kenmare's park, which contains 1500 
 acres. The high ground commands a 
 full view of the lower lake — from one 
 point you can reckon sixteen islands. 
 The spectacle which presents itself 
 from this situation, is magnificent. 
 Through the park runs a deep glen, 
 thickly wooded : a rapid, clear river 
 runs at the foot, over which are con- 
 structed, in some places, rustic bridges.
 
 142 VAGA. 
 
 « — The taste of the noble lord is con- 
 spicuous in a thousand instances, 
 throuo:h this scene of wild beautv, 
 vying with Nature, whose luxuriance 
 is sometimes checked by taste and 
 art. 
 
 Muckress is surely the garden of 
 Eden : — yet the fair Eve, who possess- 
 ed it, was tempted to stray from its 
 lovely borders ***^****** 
 
 Muckress abbey is a beautiful ruin. 
 Founded in the year 1440, it remains 
 in a great state of preservation, covered 
 with ivy. The ground around and 
 contiguous is an Elysium of all that 
 can captivate the senses. Through the 
 abundant foliage of the rich ever- 
 greens, are openings and vistas, which 
 present a view of the lakes — their 
 nameless varied beauties, and the ma- 
 jestic woods which environ them.
 
 VAGA. 143 
 
 Every step portrays anew object more 
 charming than the last, to delight the 
 eye. If silence, shade, and meditation, 
 is your view, retire to the inviting 
 bower, whose thick leaves are impene- 
 trable to all light — where deep musing 
 is softly soothed by the gurgling 
 stream, and sometimes roused from 
 her meditation by the sweet whistle of 
 the blackbird. If weary of retire- 
 ment and solemn musing, direct your 
 steps to the refreshing lake, which 
 presents a spectacle of all that can in- 
 terest the mind, animate the spirits, 
 and charm the taste. 
 
 Barges, gaily painted, and richly de- 
 corated, with bands of music, lightly 
 skim over the glassy surface, present 
 themselves to the spectator, and the 
 next moment are lost by the interve- 
 ning island, which proudly rises from 
 the waters, decked with trees of the
 
 144 VAGA. 
 
 wildest luxuriance. Through the 
 lively foliage, appear motley groupes 
 of company — some sitting on the ver- 
 dant banks, others rambling through 
 the shady groves of arbutes, while the 
 soul-inspiring music, always attended 
 by soft echo, charms the ear. 
 
 Should the eye wander from this 
 animated scene, it rests perhaps on 
 the superb spectacle that Glen-na 
 offers — where the mind is at once 
 transported to the great Divinity, and 
 lost to all earthly objects, till roused 
 suddenly by the French-horn. With 
 breathless expectation you behold the 
 stag, pointing and just exhausted, rush 
 into the lake, pursued by the eager 
 courser and keen hounds. 
 
 This task completed, Vagas next 
 object was to make sale of it: but,
 
 VAGA. 145 
 
 being an utter stranger in the metro- 
 polis, and possessing, moreover, a con- 
 siderable share of timidity (though an 
 author), she communicated the effort 
 to her landlady, who very graciously 
 permitted the fair scribe to read the 
 production for her, while she took 
 her evening nap ; — and, on awaking 
 from her slumber, she professed her- 
 self so much pleased with the piece, 
 that, after repeated solicitations, she 
 took it to a journe3^man printer of her 
 acquaintance, who taking it to his 
 employers, a literary under- strapper at 
 length waited on Vaga, to tell her she 
 might call at the office. 
 
 With a beating heart, and Iwpes all 
 elate, early the next day, our young 
 author entered the Temple of the 
 Muses. It was deserted : but piles of 
 publications were ranged so thick, 
 round about, that she had scarcely 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 1^6 VAGA. 
 
 room to stand. A small pamphlet, the 
 leaves of which lay open, happening 
 to attract her attention, she read — 
 " The Birth of Friendship ;" and the 
 novel, but attractive interesting title, 
 exciting an interest in her mind, she 
 ventured to look into the production, 
 and perused with delight a composi- 
 tion breathing the soul of beauty, taste, 
 delicacy, and refinement! — Yes, ]Ma- 
 cauley I amiable, as celebrated! your 
 *^ Birth of Friendship" is a rose in li- 
 terature, that shall bloom as long as 
 the culture of letters adorns the world. 
 A man now interrupted the con- 
 templations of Vaga. He came into 
 the office with his hat on, and passing 
 herrather rudely — mounting a writing- 
 desk, and squirting a tint of ink, tliat 
 struck full in her face, began to write. — 
 " Poets are said to be the sons of the 
 gods," thought Vaga, looking signifi-
 
 VAGA. 147 
 
 catitly at her companion r " but I am 
 sure the Graces do not always preside 
 at their birth." 
 
 The literary mark on her cheek 
 was no stain : but, whether it was or 
 was not, it did not give her a second 
 thought, after she had consigned it to 
 her handkerchief. 
 
 " Sir," said Vaga, now acquiring 
 courage to address the writing gentle- 
 man, " may I beg to know"* t . . 
 
 *' Young woman," said the man, 
 " the printers are all up stairs; and 
 they can answer you : but I am not 
 to be spoken to." 
 
 " Is the bairn damned f' cried a 
 Stentorean voice, issuing from above. 
 ' ** Not yet," said the writing gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Then it will live another day?" 
 roared the other. 
 
 h2!
 
 148 VAGA. 
 
 " 'Tis at its last gasp," said the wri- 
 ting gentleman. 
 
 " Make haste!" reiterated the thun- 
 derer; " for I see the author coming 
 to cry peccavi" 
 
 A gentleman entered : he bowed to 
 Vaga, and, seeing her standing, *' Ma- 
 dam," said he, " permit me to place 
 for you a chair." 
 
 *' Ha! Chevaher!" interposed the 
 writing gentleman, rising with much 
 complaisance — " I congratulate you 
 on your Vision,'' 
 
 ^* True," replied the former speaker, 
 in a foreign accent, and half smiHng 
 — " as you are pleased to say, my 
 dream is ow^" 
 
 " Well, Chevalier !" resumed the 
 writing gentleman, with a smirk and 
 a simper — ** now that the little bant- 
 ling has made its way into the world,
 
 VAGA. 149 
 
 may I ask, have you put it on its legs? 
 — Have you got for it supporters ?'' 
 
 " The bantling you mean," replied 
 the Chevalier, " has never been born." 
 
 " Then," said the writing gentle- 
 man, flinging his pen away, and 
 jumping from his present eminence — 
 ** you suppressed it in the delivery; 
 for I read the proof." 
 
 *' Yes, sir, you have said it," replied 
 the Chevalier — " I stifled it in its birth, 
 to save it from such as you. Writers 
 are all fair game; and, when the dogs 
 get the scent — in full cry, they dash 
 in at the death." 
 
 '* I confess 1 have no objection to 
 good sport at any time," said the 
 writing gentleman, looking rather cha- 
 grined. " However, certain it is, I have 
 lost my labor this morning." So say- 
 ing, he walked off, sans chemonie. 
 
 The Chevalier smiled.—" Madam," 
 H 3
 
 150 VAGA. 
 
 said he to Vaga, " a gentleman may 
 be a scholar : but you have had a spe- 
 cimen to-day, that a scholar is not 
 always a gentleman. The truth is, 
 Mr. Squib piques himself on his scho- 
 lastic rust, particularly when ladies 
 are in question — whose unequal force 
 (opposed to ours, we having the van- 
 tage ground) he invariably attacks, 
 taking aim at the head — not at the 
 heart. But, in my mind, 'tis high 
 time that he should cease hostilities; 
 for your sex, madam, fight like the 
 Parthians, and conquer, when pur- 
 sued." 
 
 Vaga smiled. — *' That gentleman, 
 then," said she, " is, as I conceived, a 
 writer." 
 
 ** Yes, madam : he is what we call 
 a made one. — The press abounds with 
 such — persons who write for price, 
 without regard to aught in the moral
 
 VAGA. 151 
 
 sense — persons, whose art it is to 
 crush truth and its circulators — per- 
 sons who spatter their gall into the 
 eyes of a staring multitude ; and then, 
 to compensate for the loss of light — 
 behold them leading the blind!!! — 
 But for real genius," (and his kindling 
 eyes fixed on Vaga) '* what says a 
 celebrated French author? 
 
 Le Genie est un Dieu tout de gloire ct de flamme ; 
 L'harmonie est sa voix ; la Nature, son dine, 
 L'univers, son empire .... 
 
 Le Brun, Pohne de la Nature, 
 
 The entrance of a gentleman-look- 
 ing man broke the conversation. He 
 bowed to the speaker, and, uncovering 
 his head, appeared to wait Vaga's 
 commands ; which when announced, 
 with the utmost poHteness, and even 
 friendly cordiality, he begged her to 
 be seated. 
 
 h4i
 
 ]5^ 
 
 VAGA. 
 
 '' Madam," said he, " I edit the 
 Magazine published here. I have read 
 your sketch, and shall pay it every at- 
 tention it deserves." 
 
 The delicacy, so conspicuous in this 
 address, was more gratifying to our 
 Vaga's pride of heart, than the n"iOst 
 studied praise. She colored deeply, 
 and bowed her head : — a drop of grati- 
 tude trembled in the corner of her 
 eye. 
 
 ** Sir," said she, " you are very 
 good ; and I thank you." 
 
 The Chevalier now took his leave. 
 
 ** That is a first-rate character,'* 
 said the editor, closing the office 
 door, and addressing himself to Vaga. 
 *' He was born in this country, but 
 naturalised and educated in France. — 
 He has had twelve dramatic works 
 crowned in Paris. — Never did any 
 writer display such various excel-
 
 VAGA. 153 
 
 lence: — his letters, dissertations, or 
 poetical effusions, bear the same cha- 
 racteristics, abounding in wit, brilli- 
 ancy, and strength. The greatest 
 crowned heads in Europe have ac- 
 knowledged his merit, and bestowed 
 marks of honor upon him. He passed 
 his youth in camps and courts, and 
 would seem to have been created for 
 war and love : — but virtuous glory is 
 the goddess he worshipped; and he 
 has paid his devotions solely at her 
 shrine." 
 
 " Has he been long in this coun- 
 try?" said Vaga. 
 
 *' The Chevalier came to Ireland," 
 replied the editor, " in the year 179^; 
 — and I'll give you his history, as I 
 have collected it from himself. I shall 
 say nothing of the years of his cradle. 
 He was carried successively to Dublin, 
 to England, to Pans, and, having com- 
 H 5
 
 151 VAGA. 
 
 pleted his education, was inscribed a 
 volunteer in the regiment of * * * % 
 and, iminediately after, appointed to a 
 commission in the French cavalry. Of 
 his early services I am not warranted 
 to speak : but conjecture assures me 
 they have been meritorious; for he was 
 named by his most Christian Majesty, 
 Louis XVI. colonel of "^ * '^ * regi- 
 ment : but, not having yet attained 
 the requisite age, which was that of 
 twenty-three, the commission was 
 held open for him ; and, during the 
 interval, he got a troop of horse. The 
 misfortuiics of France were about to 
 commence; and, attached, as he was, 
 to his royal master, he followed the 
 fortunes of the family, and, hastening 
 after the Count of Artois to Coblentz, 
 carried two sabres to his Royal High- 
 ijess, from his illustrious sons, the 
 Dukes of Angoul^me and Berii, (the
 
 VAGA'. 155 
 
 latter having said, that Patroclus 
 ought to carry the arms of Achilles.) 
 He then joined the royalists — made 
 the campaign of 1792 — and, in the 
 beginning of 1793, was among the 
 brave defenders of Maestricht, whicli 
 town was, according to the expression 
 of Louis XVIII. the repository of scep- 
 tres and crowns. — Such," continued 
 the editor, " is, in part, the military 
 character of the hero you have seen : 
 — but who can speak of his heart, as 
 it deserves? for it is above all praise ! 
 Yes !" (his voice softening) " benevo- 
 lence has surely chosen the Chevalier 
 for her representative on earth: — he 
 has a tear for pity ; and his purse is 
 open to the distressed." 
 
 Vaga started up — '^ May I hope to 
 see this gentleman again?" said she. 
 
 The editor looked surprised ; but 
 Vaga still persisted. " I have a par-
 
 J 56 VAGA. 
 
 ticular reason/' said she, *' for ask- 
 ing; and and"' • • • Here, pride, or 
 
 something like it, broke her delivery. 
 
 The editor's eyes were now intently 
 fixed on our heroine; and they were 
 such as appeared to take in all space. 
 He seemed desirous to search her soul; 
 and there was something in his steady 
 gaze, from which Vaga recoiled — and 
 yet she knew not why. — Her face was 
 in a glow; and, her confusion^ visibly 
 increasing, the literary man abruptly 
 demanded, whether she had any com- 
 mands for him ? 
 
 Vaga, entirely bereft of self-posses- 
 sion by the reproof couched in this- 
 evasion of her question, blushed even 
 deeper than before. 
 
 The editor regarded her attentively; 
 and gradually the cloud of suspicioiy 
 on his brow cleared. — " Who is this 
 genuine creature? " thought he — *' and
 
 V^AGA. 157 
 
 what is she? — Her manner is perplexed 
 — agitated : — and that tear upon her 
 cheek tells she is unhappy." 
 
 Vaga smiled. 
 
 Oh 1 Genius! — a dew- flower thou 
 art: — and thy beauties, like those of 
 the rose, seem sweetest, when the sun 
 succeeds a shower — because, then, 
 every drop is a spangle on thy stemf 
 
 While these ideas were passing 
 through the editor's niind, ^ a very 
 elegant equipage drew up; and a 
 lady alighted.—^' Well, Mr. Editor!" 
 (the footman throwing open the of- 
 fice door,) " are you charmed with my 
 muse?" 
 
 ** I am always charmed with the 
 fair,'' was the reply. 
 
 *' Nay, but have you given me a 
 placer' 
 
 " We are supplied for a year to 
 come," said the editor, ** by letters
 
 158 VAGA. 
 
 post paid, from literary corresponxlents 
 in every part of the kingdom." ^ 
 
 " Then 1 shall print at my oivn ex- 
 pense,'' said the lady. 
 
 *' And there is an advantage in 
 that/' replied the editor; '' for you 
 can then give a good outside to your 
 w©rk, and swell your fame at once, by 
 a couple of dozen of editions, mock-sale^ 
 or a word to the wise." 
 
 The lady walked off, without deign- 
 ing the compliment of a courtesy, and, 
 mounting her triumphal car, left the 
 Temple of the Muses far behind her. 
 
 An elderly man next entered. — 
 " Mr. Editor," said he, '^ are you in 
 the habit of purchasing essays at this 
 officer" 
 
 " Sir," replied the editor, '^ our lite- 
 rary department is filled, at no small 
 expense ; and 1 am sorry to say, the 
 encouragement we receive is by iiO'
 
 VAGA.- 159 
 
 means flattering to the genius of the 
 country. However, the fault is not 
 there," continued the editor; " for 
 the Irish public is ever discrimina- 
 ting, liberal, and just : but a great na- 
 tion in decay, sir — Here, the fine arts 
 are, as it were, under the patronage of 
 a headless trunk." 
 
 *' London, at least," said the former 
 speaker, " is a mart." 
 
 " Ay, indeed !" replied thp editor 
 — " it is the grand emporium of the 
 world ; and genius and talent, there, 
 have ample play-room. — In London, it 
 is not the person, nor the name, but 
 the article, that is looked to: — a 
 ready sale for every thing that is good 
 — value given for gold : — but, as to 
 speculation, here, the people think 
 themselves well off, if they can buy 
 bread." 
 
 '* Sir!" and the unknown lifted
 
 160 VAGA. 
 
 the hat from his head — ** what end 
 can it answer^ to remind a man of 
 his misfortunes?" 
 
 Vaga was, hitherto, all ear; and 
 now, a sort of inspiration taking pos- 
 session of her — her mind seemed to ex- 
 pand beyond the bounds of mortality. 
 — There was an impetuosity in her 
 present feelings, that she could neither 
 account for, nor control : it was like 
 an ungovernable torrent, and bore 
 down all before it. 
 
 ** Sir," said she, *' the voice that 
 reminds man of his misfortunes, is ei- 
 ther the angel of destruction, who, 
 with shouts of joy, proclaims the la- 
 bor of God in vain, (for * man was' 
 not * made to mourn') or a spirit of 
 heaven, rousing his dormant energies 
 from the trance of the heart — another 
 sleep of death, which the mortal poi- 
 6on of misery produces. Yet," coii-
 
 VAGA, 1^1 
 
 tinued Vaga, ** a man must not be dis- 
 mayed ! — 'Tis the fertilising dews, that 
 render the earth productive ! When 
 man weeps, he sows in anguish — but 
 often reaps, from vexation and care, 
 a fruitful harvest." 
 
 "What, but the labor of.human hands, 
 raised cities ? — What, but the industry 
 of a people, causes empires to flourish? 
 —What conquered the wild waters' 
 rage, and covered the sea with ship^, 
 but man? — What occasioned war and 
 devastation in the world? — The ambi- 
 tion of man. — Wliat subjugated man, 
 but the injustice of man ?^ — And, lastly, 
 who is man's oppressor? — Man! — 
 Shall man, then, despair to conquer 
 man? — No!" said Vaga — '^ Let vir- 
 tue, perseverance, and a good cause, 
 always hope, but never despair; — for, 
 * man was' not * made to mourn.'* 
 
 Vaga paused. — The old gentleman^
 
 16^ VAGA. 
 
 putting on his hat, took a pinch of 
 sniifF; and the editor, no longer able 
 to contain, laughed outright. 
 
 ** Come, my little Cicero in petti- 
 coats!" said he, '* you must not be 
 angry : but indeed you are too green 
 in the art as yet, to be trusted to go 
 alone." 
 
 " Pray, madam," inquired the old 
 gentleman, taking another pinch of 
 buuff, " may I make bold to ask, are 
 you learned in the law ?" 
 
 ** Yes, sir," said Vaga, (her wit sharp- 
 ened by the laugh raised at her ex- 
 pense) •* self-taught, in the law of 
 humanity, I am." 
 
 " Then," interrupted her interroga- 
 tor, *' it appears you are deeply read." 
 
 " Yes, sir — in the book of nature." 
 
 " Tut! tut!" replied the old man 
 — " Answer me plainly — Are you a 
 learned lady ? '*
 
 VAGA. 163 
 
 " No, sir : I have not that honor." 
 
 " Then, madam, if so,"' said he, 
 " you only resemble the bulkof man- 
 kind ; for you have yet to learn." 
 
 Tiie speaker walked out; and a 
 beautiful youth walked in. — He was 
 dressed in deep mourning, which not 
 a little conspired to show to advan- 
 tage the exquisite delicacy of his com- 
 plexion. — His eyes were cast down- 
 wards ; and the long lashes that fringed 
 their lids, were as the ebon curtains of 
 the night, veiling the light of the 
 heavens. 
 
 Beauty is a universal object of wor- 
 ship. — Beauty first inspired the poet's 
 song, and guided the heaven- creative 
 pencil of the artist. — What tongue can 
 speak its witchery ? — whose pen ex- 
 press its magic power? — Nought, 
 nought, but silence : and silence
 
 164 VAGA. 
 
 sometimes discourses — oh ! how elo- 
 quently ! 
 
 Modesty is the drapery of Nature; 
 and, when the graces of delicacy are 
 blended with the enchantments of love, 
 thefireof beauty is hke the blaze of the 
 sun ; for we behold, reflected in its 
 glories, the stamp of the Divinity ! 
 
 Young Edwy ! — But, who can paint 
 the charms of his mind and person? — 
 The graces of the latter, to be estimated, 
 must be seen — not described : and the 
 former is so far above the stretch of 
 mortal conception, that, mutually con- 
 sidered, they may be said to force, 
 ** like the arrow, beyond the ken of 
 the eye!" — A youth, reader, scarcely 
 eighteen — yet was he a literary Colos- 
 sus, supporting, by his abilities, an 
 aged mother, a widowed sister, and 
 her orphan child — and, as it were.
 
 VAGA. 165 
 
 bearing them (an honorable burden) 
 on his shoulders; for this youth 
 united to the mind of strength the 
 heart of affection! — Yes! Edwy was 
 a young disciple of Minerva; and the 
 voice of his mistress *' sent him forth 
 to fame," with the emblem of victory 
 in his hand, a branch of peace ! ! ! 
 
 " I am truly concerned," said the 
 editor, shaking the youth by the 
 hand, " to hear of your sorrow ; but 
 public gratitude (that rare grace) sym- 
 pathises with you on the death of your 
 friend, and ought to fix her statue 
 among those of its benefactors." 
 
 A lucid beam brightened the de- 
 jected countenance of the youth. — - 
 " That once great and excellent 
 ■woman," replied he, " is indeed laid 
 low !" — Struggling to govern the emo- 
 tionis of his heart, he stopped ; — but
 
 l€6 VAGA.' 
 
 Edwy was born to feel. — Recollected 
 sorrow shadowed, without obscuring, 
 the seraphic smile playing through the 
 line of sensibility in the features — 
 kissing the cheek, and, in descending 
 beams, touching the lips ! — All the 
 heart burst to his eyes, and the un- 
 manning tear abashed him : — he hung 
 down his head — soul and body crushed 
 by the dsemon of despair: — but. Na- 
 ture imparting to him sanity of mind, 
 he looked up — and Vaga powerfully 
 impressed by the silent sorrow of the 
 youth, the tearof sympathy (soothingly 
 beautiful) trickling down her cheek — 
 his grief now lost in the emotion of 
 gratitude — his every sense was raptu- 
 rous; and gently drawing near her, 
 though the usage of the world for- 
 bade the declaration of his feelings, 
 his whole heart spoke in his eyes — and
 
 VAGA. 167 
 
 told that his soul was, from the begin- 
 ning, in good fellowship with Vaga. 
 
 The editor was a man who intui- 
 tively entered into the characters of 
 others. He respected talent, as all do, 
 who in reality possess it — and felt real 
 gratification in presenting to each other 
 two beings so congenial in disposition 
 and pursuit. 
 
 '' My dear Edwy!" said he, " this 
 is the lady to whom we are indebted 
 for the sketch of Killarney." 
 
 Vaga courtesied ; and Ed.wy*s gal- 
 lantry seeming to acknowledge her as 
 a superior, after the manner of the Tus- 
 can character, he saluted her : — then 
 taking a folded paper from his breast, 
 " Madam," said he, '* your literary ef' 
 fort gave birth to this effusion — 'Tis 
 called * The Hill of Fame,' and de- 
 signed for you." .
 
 168 VAGA. 
 
 A mantling blush — the harbinger of 
 joy — flushed over Vaga's face, neck, 
 and arms, as she received the precious 
 gift, and read as follows — 
 
 The Hill of Fame. 
 
 This celebrated mount is the en- 
 trance to the field of light — celestial 
 image of eternal day ! the scene of 
 Sims unnumbered ! the care of Heaven ! 
 the delight of Nature ! a verdant lawn, 
 where Inspiration, on her couch of 
 laurels, " in a fine phrensy," rolls her 
 eagle-eyes abroad — and fixes unshaken 
 on the mass of flame, which shows the 
 work divine 1 Here in this field the 
 child of fancy ranges — tunes her sim- 
 ple reed, and sings harmonious to the 
 gracious Power who first called forth
 
 VAGA. 169 
 
 her untutored lay ! — Here, Taste and 
 Judgement twine the wreath, and Ge- 
 nius binds the brows of bards, philo- 
 sophers, heroes ! — Here the school of 
 Plato is revived again ! — Here, Elo- 
 quence and divine Love, led by their 
 immortal disciple Plato, converse with 
 Socrates ! Here Virtue smiles trium- 
 phant ! — ^The happy place guarded by 
 beasts and reptiles, none can pass 
 herein, but poesy's own creation ; and 
 enchantment springs from them ; for, 
 when they wav€ their magic wand, 
 all-witching in their harmony, they 
 charm or they subdue. — The serpent, 
 having lost the power to hiss, retires : 
 the asp, deprived of his poison, harm- 
 less skulks away : the toad can emit 
 venom no more; and the brute soft- 
 ened by the melting tones of Nature, 
 while the poet sings, or the historian 
 speaks, the tiger crouches — the bear 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 VAGA. 
 
 lies entranced — and the lion, attentive 
 to the melody, suppliant bends before 
 the ingenious youth, licking his feet, 
 and spreading his shaggy mane be- 
 neath his steps ! — A smiling train then 
 appears: — they hail the candidate in 
 the road to fame, and, pointing to the 
 hill, each presents an offering! — The 
 laughing Loves scatter roses — Wisdom 
 brings the Mantuan bay — the Graces 
 proffer eternal bloom — Apollo arms 
 him, with a lyre — Innocence places 
 an olive crown upon his head — 
 Glory urges him to ascend the steep 
 — and Hope waves him to the sum- 
 mit ! — The height once gained, Fame 
 sounds her trumpet : the immortals, 
 in the field of light, catch the victor's 
 name ; and cheering, their voices are 
 echoed from pole to pole ! The young 
 initiated hears the tuneful strain, and 
 sees himself reflected in the beams of
 
 VAGA. 171 
 
 an eternal sun : his form is a radiant 
 mass of brightness — his face beauteous 
 as the morning, when Phoebus shines 
 tlirough the orient coloring of Nature! 
 — Lightnings are in his hand ! — The 
 spoils of worlds cling to his chariot 
 wheels ! — He is drawn by doves, and 
 the trophied car rolls over the globe, 
 glorious as the orb that lights the 
 universe ! 
 
 Vaga paused — and her spirit mount- 
 ing on the seraph wing of hope, the 
 pencil of fancy may sketch the wan- 
 derer, floating in search of sun-beams. 
 
 Without the soft zephyrs of encou- 
 ragement, the sweetest buds of genius 
 fade away beneath a cruel blight — 
 But, touched by the magic wand of 
 hope, the withered flower shall re- 
 vive again, and put forth the bright- 
 est tints of the spring; a beauty that 
 
 I 2
 
 172 VAGA. 
 
 nothing but Nature herself can dis- 
 enchant. — The literary adventurer 
 ought to be too much of a philoso- 
 pher, to prize greatly what has been 
 gained lightly. — We cannot attain the 
 summit of a steep without proportion- 
 ate exertion; neither must we expect 
 to rise to any height, but by perse- 
 verance and labor. 
 
 " An author," said Edwy, ''requires 
 the strength and courage of a lion — 
 with the patience and firmness of a 
 philosopher; and, in repeating this 
 precept for the guidance of another, I 
 read a useful lesson to myself. Yes," 
 (turning to the editor) " grief for the 
 loss of my first, my best, and dearest 
 friend, has, I am sensible, oppressed 
 and sunk me. — But I will shake off 
 my weakness, and no more disgrace 
 the example she set me in her strength
 
 VAGA. 173 
 
 of mind, which was beyond descrip- 
 tion — ahuost beyond conception. My 
 disposition, too, is that which can. 
 stifle its agonies, and bend to every ill. 
 Sometimes, indeed, my bodily strength 
 fails before my internal struggles; yet 
 no sufferings have ever made me shrink 
 from the performance of my duties'. 
 — I have a dear mother," he added; 
 *^ and to place her in the midst of 
 comfort, that her last days, ^t least, 
 may be passed in peace — is the crown 
 for which I toil." 
 
 " Virtuous, good young man !" said 
 Vaga — " may the prayer of your heart 
 be accorded ! — and may your piety, as 
 a beacon to prevent shipwreck, light 
 me on my perilous way !" — She cour- 
 tesied low, and, closing the office door 
 after her, returned to her humble 
 home, where resuming her duteous
 
 174 VAGA. 
 
 employment, in attendance on a sick 
 parent, she fulfilled the sacred com- 
 mand of him who said, " Honor thy 
 father and thy mother, that thy days 
 may be long in the land which the 
 ' Lord thy God giveth thee,"
 
 J75 
 
 CHAPTER 4. 
 
 The last shilling now expended, 
 Vaga looked on the world around her, 
 as a traveller views the mazes of a 
 wilderness, unknowing which road to 
 choose. A knock at the door broke 
 her melancholy cogitations. — It was 
 the mistress of the mansion. 
 
 " Miss," said she, " I want my week's 
 rent, due this day." 
 
 " You can't have it," said Vaga. 
 
 " I must," was the retort. 
 
 " There is a sick person in the 
 room," said Vaga ; " and I beg your 
 14
 
 176 VAGA. 
 
 indulgence may be shown, if not to 
 me, at least to her." 
 
 " Balderdash !'* replied the landlady. 
 ** If so be you're a writer, and live in 
 idleness, doing no good for yourself 
 or for any one else that thanks you — 
 that is no reason that I am to take up 
 Avith your stuff, and take verses for 
 payment, when cash may be hadl — 
 No ! no ! I'll none on't. — No dispa- 
 ragement meant : — it may be all 
 mighty fine : only we are seldom for 
 valuing what w^e don't understand. 
 So, one word for all, am I to be paid, 
 or not?" 
 
 " Madam,'' said Vaga, *' you have 
 had my answer." 
 
 *' Then pack up your alls," cried 
 the mistress of the mansion, in no 
 very tender tone; " for, without pay- 
 ment, you shall not pass another night 
 under my roof."
 
 VAGA. 177 
 
 *^ Say not so/' said Vaga. *' Surely 
 you could not be so inhuman" (point- 
 ing to tlie bed) " as to turn out a lan- 
 guishing — perhaps a dying fellow 
 creature." 
 
 *' Come ! come !" rejoined the land- 
 lady, " your poets' tricks will not do 
 with me ; for I despise all such. — No- 
 thing but pride and rags — have they 
 any more on their bones than in their 
 pockets? — All Pharaoh's lean kine : — 
 famine in their looks — beggars in state 
 — or alms-askers, only that they are 
 ashamed to speak ! but their wants 
 are known well enough : the very 
 boys in the street have it — and the 
 dogs, for the matter of that : — for, a 
 decayed appearance is hooted and 
 hunted all as one as something wild 
 — the honest people making game for 
 themselves." — Here, flouncing out of 
 the room, she stumbled over some- 
 I 5
 
 178 VAGA» 
 
 thing at the door. — It was a hand- 
 basket, in which was a loaf of bread, 
 a bottle of Port wine, and a letter for 
 Vaga. 
 
 *^ Dear me !" thought the landlady, 
 lecovering herself, and examining the 
 arms on the seal — " this is a little 
 genteelish, or so. — I wonder who 
 brought it, and where it came from; 
 and I wish I could fathom the con- 
 tents.'' 
 
 Her curiosity no\v on the wing, she 
 took up the basket and carried it to 
 Vaga. 
 
 Insolence and impertinence had 
 power over Vaga's feelings, but none 
 over her self-possession. She took 
 the letter, and calmly broke the wax. 
 — A bank-note for fifty pounds met 
 her sight, with the following Laconic 
 address—
 
 VAGA. 179 
 
 " Vaga, 
 
 " Take bread, and be 
 thankful ! Be patient, and fear not. 
 
 *' Bathmendi." 
 
 " Dublin, August 1st, 1801." 
 
 Our heroine, trembling with joy 
 and thanksgiving, rushed to the bed, 
 and, dropping on her knees beside it 
 — extending forward the bank-bill — 
 '' ChiH !" cried the dev^out girl, " see 
 what Heaven has sent to raise and 
 comfort you." 
 
 The hostess was now all ears and 
 eyes : and, as fortune in a great degree 
 sways the world, in this instance she 
 may be said to have come under its 
 influence. 
 
 " Aye, indeed!" said the mistress 
 of the mansion, dexterously changing 
 sides — " and never came in better time. 
 —God help the sick! — they require
 
 i80 VAGA. 
 
 a something to cheer and support 
 them : and, for my part, I always 
 pity those that are ill and in want!-— 
 Bad health is sorrow enough, without 
 poverty and taunts to make it worse. 
 However, I never yet could abide an 
 unfeeling person ; but, we women are 
 naturally inclined to tenderness ; and 
 the men call us nothing but a parcel 
 of good-natured fools for our trouble.'* 
 At this break, Chili being overcome 
 with weakness, Vaga entreated the 
 landlady to suspend her eloquence for 
 a moment, and pour out a glass of 
 wine for the fainting invalid ; which 
 being accordingly done, while Vaga 
 was administering the cordial to her 
 parent — this good lady, never scru- 
 pling to help herself, it is to be presu- 
 med, drank to the good health of all 
 present ; for, to use her husband's 
 words, she came down stairs, blind.
 
 VAGA. 181 
 
 But a nap soon set ber eye-sight to 
 rights, and showed her seeing her way 
 as clear before her as ever. When, in 
 the course of a few hours, Vaga waited 
 on her w^ith the rent, and having paid 
 ber, was retiring — 
 
 ** Miss,'* said the landlady, " won't 
 you wait for a receipt ?" 
 
 '* When it is your convenience, I 
 shall take one," said Vaga: *' but, 
 until then, I cannot doubt"- • • • 
 
 *' Ah I" interposed the landlady, 
 looking as if sugar-plums were in her 
 mouth — ^* that is as much as to say, 
 I did not place the same dependence on 
 you : — but, indeed, 1 never was given 
 to suspicion — not I. — Who would go 
 to look in the oven for any one, 
 unless they had been there them- 
 selves ? — And, I'm sure, a young wo- 
 man, with your pretty modest beha- 
 viour, might be relied on any where :
 
 182 VAGA. 
 
 — and so I told our lodger — the old 
 man in the first floor, when, hearing 
 you crying the other day, he ques- 
 tioned me about you. — And, now that 
 I think of it, who knows but it was 
 he that set the basket at your door? 
 — for I saw his eyes water, when I 
 gave him a history of your distress, 
 and your sitting up a-nights with that 
 poor sick body, and your grief after 
 your father — and all the tears you 
 shed : — but, he is so solid and so dry, 
 I almost think he is a witch — for ever 
 reading, and walking up and down the 
 room, and talking to himself — and, 
 then, he is so cross, he seems ready to 
 bite the nose off one, if they speak. — 
 But, after all that, he is the best lodger 
 that ever set foot in this house; for I 
 provide him in every thing, and he 
 pays his bills, without ever examin- 
 ing further than thQtot."
 
 VAGA. 185 
 
 " I would not be remiss," said Vaga, 
 '^ if I thought the gentleman of whom 
 you speak was my kind benefactor." 
 
 " Hush !" replied the landlady — 
 *' that's more than I dare say to him, 
 or you either. Besides, what is it but 
 my prate ? — Lord ! if he got the 
 slightest hint of what I said, he would 
 not stay in the house an hour longer; 
 for he hates all woman-kind ; and it 
 was on condition that I never would 
 suffer any other petticoat, but my own, 
 to enter his apartment, that he took 
 the lodging, giving me my own terms 
 for the same. — And, then," continued 
 the landlady, ** if he wouldn't frighten 
 you, if you saw him, in his great big 
 bushy wig — like the doctors long ago! 
 — But," (starting) ^' there's his rap 
 at the hall-door : — two knocks — I 
 know the signal ; and I must get the 
 children and every living thing out of
 
 184 VAGA. 
 
 the way, before I let him in." — So 
 saying, bustling through the hall, 
 hashing cats and children — she gave 
 the old man admittance; and, return- 
 ing into the parlour, was about to re- 
 sume, when — a sound of lamentation 
 proceeding from the yard — fearful lest 
 it should drown the music of her voice 
 — she slapped down the window, pet- 
 tishly observing — that she had a mortal 
 aversion to every thing that was dis- 
 mal ; and, on Vaga's inquiring whence 
 issued the complaint, and wherefore — 
 *' Oh!" said the hostess, " 'tis 
 nothing, only the family who lodge 
 in my back house — a mother, and her 
 son, mourning over the young woman 
 that died just now — poor things!" 
 (possibly recollecting her assertion, 
 that women are soft-hearted, ^c.) 
 " and 'tis ten to one but they will 
 kill themselves with grief, unless
 
 VAGA. 185 
 
 spmebocly takes compassion on them, 
 and goes in to console them ; which 
 is not in my power to do ; for I always 
 had a great fear of death, and never 
 could bring myself to look it straight 
 in the face." 
 
 '* Think you," said Vaga, '' that 
 I may venture to attend on these 
 poor people in their sorrow?" 
 
 " Aye ! " replied the landlady — ** and 
 (I warrant it) be welcome a« ' the 
 flowers of May ; ' for the young 
 master is just such another as your- 
 self — and the old woman is a tender, 
 good-natured body — and, if there's no 
 good, there's no harm, in her." 
 
 Vaga waited to hear no more ; and 
 the lamentation continuing, guided by 
 the sound, she proceeded through the 
 yard, to the house in the rear. — On 
 entering, the first object that met 
 her sight, was Edwy — supporting an
 
 186 VAGA. 
 
 elderly woman in his arms, drying the 
 tears, as they trickled down her aged 
 cheeks, and, in the sweetest accents 
 that humanity ever breathed, trying 
 to reassure, and inspire her with re- 
 signation. 
 
 The blood rapidly circulated through 
 Vaga's heart: and, lier ears catching 
 the words, " my mother ! my mother V 
 repeated with a shriek by a child — 
 turning round, she beheld the remains 
 of a young female, to whom a little 
 boy, between six and seven years old, 
 with eager fondness clung ! 
 
 Vaga's nerves relaxed : she tottered, 
 and grasping Ed wy's offered arm — pale, 
 and trembling, hung upon it. 
 
 He led her to a chair. — '^ Ha 1" said 
 he, " I remember well those features : 
 — and are you come to the house of 
 mourning? — Yes! As the angel of 
 humanity descends to chase the fiend
 
 VAGA. 187 
 
 despair from the mansion of the heart, 
 and sooth with the bahn of peace the 
 children of affliction! — Here/' con- 
 tinued he, casting himself at the feet 
 of his venerable mother, '* direct, and 
 gratify the fine and generous principle 
 of benevolence. — This old woman has 
 drank the mortal potion of sorrow, 
 leaving only the dregs behind — but 
 •it rests with virtue to extract sweets 
 from what remains in the cupj — and 
 an antidote, applied timely, may coun- 
 teract the operation of the poison." 
 
 Reader I a physician is sometimes 
 necessary to the mind, as well as to 
 the body ! To a bosom that is stung, 
 to a heart writhing under the scorpion 
 lash of affliction, the angel voice of 
 pity, alone, can afford relief. — Vari- 
 ous are the woes to which " flesh is 
 heir;" and, the gentle offices of hu- 
 manity neglected, desolation would
 
 188 VAGA. 
 
 spread so wide around, universal ruin 
 would transform the living world into 
 a dreary burying-place! — But, there 
 are hearts, many hearts, feeling, ami- 
 able, and just ! — These are they which 
 serve as a chain in the general scheme 
 of Nature, and by which the whole ori- 
 ginal intention is preserved, and the 
 species kept together ! — How blest the 
 man, blest above his fcllow^s, who, in 
 the language of the poet, 
 
 " Looks with gentle pity round, to find 
 How he can best relieve another's woe, 
 Or hush the vicious passions into peace." 
 
 The tender feeling of pity disposes us 
 to alleviate misery, and inspires phi- 
 lanthropy, which is the perfection of 
 moral sentiment, because the grand 
 means of accomplishing the beneficent 
 designs of Providence in the formation 
 of the world. — The only true greatness
 
 VAGA. 189 
 
 is virtue; and, in the amiable qualities 
 of the mind, the beggar ranks with the 
 king. — It has been said, that the king- 
 dom of every wise man is in his own 
 breast: and I say, that the privilege 
 of doing good belongs to the poor, in 
 common with the rich; for the exer- 
 cise of charity is not confined exclu- 
 sively to the opulent great. — No ! the 
 heart is the throne of humanity; — 
 and love, and gentleness, and- peace, 
 proclaim the sovereignty of Nature. — 
 The noble sympathies are known to 
 dwell beneath the humble thatch; for 
 the weary pilgrim has often found 
 shelter and sweet repose within the 
 walls of the lowly shed. — A mind 
 that feels, can teach, and may inspire 
 resignation ; at all events, kind sooth- 
 ing is calculated to soften and qualify 
 anguish; and, so far, all can com- 
 mand; evincing, that, if we cannot
 
 190 VAGA. 
 
 repel the barbed dart, yet we may 
 bind up the wounds of the sufferer. 
 
 Vaga attempted to speak : but, her 
 eyes happening to fix on the body, 
 over which the Httle boy still hung, 
 kissing the unconscious lips, and wash- 
 ing with his tears the mortal remains of 
 his lost mother — all that was flesh in 
 her heart seemed to die within her; 
 and, at the instant, three men burst- 
 ing into the room, Edvvy, shrinking, as 
 the foremost advanced, and hiding his 
 face in the bosom of his aged parent, 
 cried — 
 
 ** Monster! are you come to tear 
 my heart out?" 
 
 ** Seise him!" replied the ruf^an, 
 addressino- the infernals at his side, 
 and pointing to the youth — " That is 
 your prisoner." 
 
 The old woman screamed — and, her 
 withered arms encircling her blooming
 
 VAGA. 191 
 
 boy — " Save him ! save him ! " quivered 
 on her colorless lips. 
 
 As the bird of prey relentless 
 pounces on the young and unresist- 
 ing victim, so the blood-hounds, with 
 a horrid yell, sprang forward. — But 
 Vaga, casting herself between them 
 and young Edwy — " Here,'' said she, 
 " monsters ! (for I cannot call you 
 men) glut your rage on me, if you 
 dare : but do not defile the akar of 
 Nature with unclean hands ; for, don't 
 you see, the son is in the sheltering 
 bosom of his mother? — Or, if you must 
 have human sacrifice," continued Vaga, 
 " look, where death has been at work" 
 (pointing to the corpse) — " and, hun- 
 gry as you are, the sight will kill 
 all appetite within you. — Yet, com- 
 pared with such as you, that spoiler 
 is merciful ! Yes ! death is a sublime 
 victor, who, when he strikes, knocks
 
 IQQ VAGA. 
 
 off the fetters of his prisoner ! — But, 
 when man enthralls man, the petty 
 tyrant heaps insult on misfortune ; for 
 he imposes chains on the subdued." 
 
 Vaga's energies defied repulse — and 
 all that was man, among the savage 
 groupe, felt their force. The bailiffs, 
 shuddering, drew back : but their lead- 
 er, a second Shylock, called loudly for 
 " the pound of flesh." 
 
 " Say what young Edwy owes," 
 said Vaga. 
 
 " Twenty pounds," replied the dae- 
 mon in human shape. 
 
 " Then," said Vaga, ** he shall not 
 go to prison, while I have a sum ade- 
 quate to his release ! — This," (taking 
 from her pocket-book a bank-note) 
 ** is nearly all I possess on earth ; and, 
 what is more, it is the all of a suffer- 
 ing parent; but I can no longer, even 
 in the cause of duty, resist a scene
 
 VAGA. 193 
 
 like the present, harrowing, as it does, 
 my every sense. — Take it then, Edwy; 
 and, when you can, you will in turn 
 assist me ; for I am poor, and a child 
 of sorrow, like yourself." 
 
 The hard creditor now said some- 
 thing about a discharge ; and the offi- 
 cers mentioned their fees. 
 
 " Silence!" said Edwy, starting 
 up. — He put back Vaga's hand, and 
 softly whispered — 
 
 " My mother, in her agitation, has 
 fainted : — but your mite is not unho- 
 nored ; for I can accept of kindness 
 shown to her! — When I am gone, 
 stay, and do what you can to revive 
 her ; comfort her, and say, that I shall 
 soon return : — and, as you are so good 
 —so merciful — perhaps" (looking to- 
 wards the body that slept the sleep of 
 death) " perhaps"- • • -he stopped — an 
 hysteric affection choaked the power 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 VAGA. 
 
 of speech — but Vaga*s quick sense 
 caught his meaning, which mounting 
 to her brain, a pain struck her in the 
 back of her head. 
 
 " The last sad offices shall be per- 
 formed for the dead," said she : — 
 " neither, Edwy, shall the living be 
 forgotten." 
 
 " Enough!" replied the youth. — 
 For a moment he breathed quick — 
 the lambent flame of gratitude fired 
 his breast — but, in another instant, 
 his blood cooled; and, meditating on 
 the ways of Providence, he calmly 
 walked out of the room, in custody 
 of the officers of the law. 
 
 The shrieks of the child recalled the 
 old woman's suspended existence. — 
 " Edwy is gone," cried he; *' and the 
 ugly men, who have taken him away, 
 will put him in a bag, and kill him ; 
 and then he'll be like poor mamma,
 
 VAGA. 195 
 
 who can*t speak to her little boy — 
 though I have called to her so often." 
 
 The landlady entered ; and, her 
 appearance seeming to intimidate the 
 child, he ran behind his grandmother's 
 chair, while Vaga gently chafed her 
 temples (wrinkled more by sorrow, 
 than time) and washed with vinegar 
 the palms of her hands. 
 
 " God be merciful to the departed!*' 
 said the hostess, turning her back to 
 the corpse: " but 'tis all one; we 
 must go, one time or other ; only, as 
 the saying is, a body is for putting off 
 the evil day as long as one can : but, 
 for all that, we must take it in turn; 
 and who knows whom it will fall upon 
 to go next? — So, to repeat the words 
 of the song, " grieving is a folly;" 
 though, to be sure, the loss of master 
 Edwy is enough to go to any woman's 
 heart — such a graceful, loving young 
 k2
 
 196 VAGA, 
 
 man! so kind, and so dutiful to bis 
 mother — so tender and affectionate to 
 his sister; but, poor thing, she's dead 
 now; and as it is all over with her, 
 what use was all the expense he went 
 to — getting himself into debt and dan- 
 ger — paying doctors, buying drugs, 
 and wine, and all such, in cases of 
 sickness — and a lingering one it 
 was — enough to take a fortune to 
 keep it up. — But, as I often said, a 
 grain of prudence is worth a pound 
 of sense. However, I may make my- 
 self too busy ; and meddlers never get 
 any thanks : therefore, to make a long 
 story short — here is an order on the 
 bank for five pounds, a fortnight's 
 salary, due to master Edwy, which 
 my good man called for at the office, 
 just now — to witness," (glancing an 
 eye-beam at Vaga) *' that writing is 
 not so bad a trade as I thought, for
 
 VAGA. 197 
 
 your best working journeymen tailors 
 and shoemakers don't earn weekly 
 more than that. And, from this time, 
 though I should see a poet bare-foot, 
 I am resolved never again to cast the 
 least reflexion on either pen, ink, or 
 paper. 
 
 The death of a deserving and be- 
 loved daughter had deeply wounded 
 the mother's heart; and the final 
 stroke of her son's imprisonment 
 plunged her into deeper agony. — But 
 the human mind, when strained to 
 its pitch, bends, but to recoil.— A 
 weight proportionate to our strength, 
 may encumber and weigh us down ; 
 but, increase the load a degree beyond 
 the limit prescribed, and our powers 
 shall naturally resist and cast the bur- 
 den. — What applies to a sharp weapon, 
 may be said of sorrow : — when it cuts, 
 K 3
 
 198 VAGA. 
 
 its edge is sometimes blunted. In a 
 word, the unhappy mother's attention 
 was now diverted from the remains of 
 the daughter to the absent son. 
 
 Vaga being made known to the old 
 lady by the landlady, how lively was 
 her admiration of a creature, who, 
 needing consolation herself;, yet was 
 so ready to administer comfort, and 
 divide her purse with the unfortu- 
 nate ! 
 
 " May the Lord bless her, and in- 
 crec^se her store !" said the afflicted 
 mother : *^ and, as she came from 
 heaven to soothe and make happy the 
 troubled on earth — Oh! may her life 
 be long, and her virtues bloom for 
 ever !" 
 
 '' Why, Vaga," said Chili— ^' why 
 did you suffer the youth to go to 
 prison? — God gave to us; and what
 
 VAGA. 199 
 
 was freely given by him, we should 
 freely share with others." 
 
 At this pause, a letter, brought by 
 the penny post, was delivered to 
 Vaga; and her heart acknowledging 
 the superscription, she impatiently 
 tore it open, and read — 
 
 *' Vaga, 
 
 " Yesterday I gave you 
 money : to-day, 1 would teach you 
 its use. — Take ; but do not keep 
 all to yourself. Give to the poor : 
 merit the prayers of the depressed 
 and the humble, and your benefactions 
 shall be repaid in blessings tenfold. — 
 Remember how the man of God re- 
 stored to the widow her son ; and, as 
 you have seen — Oli ! Vaga, commise- 
 rate suffering virtue ! — Go, commune 
 with your own heart; and you may 
 be bettered by its instructions. But, 
 k4
 
 200 VAGA. 
 
 should you be too timid to obey tlie 
 voice of benevolence — should you re- 
 press your liberality, expect counsel 
 
 from 
 
 *' Bathmexdi." 
 
 *' Dublin, August 2d, 1801." 
 
 ** Oh ! that I might be permitted 
 to know my guardian angel !" said 
 Vaga, eagerly kissing the letter. — 
 " Yes!" continued she, tying on her 
 bonnet — *^ my heart whispers to me 
 instruction; and I will be taught by 
 its genuine dictates." 
 
 Edwy had not slept during the 
 night; for the boards of his prison 
 were not calculated to invite repose. — 
 He rose in the morning, harassed, and 
 oppressed with fever. The day was 
 now far advanced, when the turnkey 
 abruptly walking into the gloomy 
 chamber, said — 
 
 " Come, young man, be of good
 
 VAGA. 201 
 
 cheer ; for you may now go about your 
 business. — All's paid; and here's the 
 young woman herself, come to take 
 you home." 
 
 Vaga rushed forward — " Edwy," said 
 she, " you are indebted for your libera- 
 tion, not to me, but to a much superior 
 agency. — However," (looking timidly 
 round) " this is not a place for expla- 
 nation. Come, then, dear Edwy ! A 
 carriage waits, to take us hence; and 
 as your mother expects you, v give me 
 the happiness of restoring you to her." 
 
 Edwy rose — but, trembling, recoil- 
 ed ; and covering his face with both his 
 hands, vainly strove to hide his emo- 
 tion. 
 
 " Egad," cried the jailor, leering, and 
 winking at Vaga, " that lad 's as soft 
 as mother's milk ; for joy, as well as 
 sorrow, can make him cry. — But you, 
 my fair maid, are a pretty nurse, as 
 K 5
 
 202 VAGA. 
 
 may be ; and you'll hush the baby— - 
 will you not?" 
 
 Vaga was too much shocked to make 
 any reply: butEdwy, darting an angry 
 glance at the impertinent, spoke in his 
 looks more resentment, than any verbal 
 reproach could convey — and said — 
 
 ** Vaga, I shall not expose you to fur- 
 ther indignity, by chastising an inso- 
 lent in your presence." — Here catch- 
 ing her hand, he hurried our heroine 
 along ; and having handed her into 
 the hackney coach in waiting, placing 
 himself beside her, motioned for the 
 carriage to drive on. 
 
 The youth now made an effort to 
 speak: but so low were his spirits, he 
 coidd scarcely make himself heard ; 
 and, giving up the attempt, he leaned 
 back his aching head. 
 
 Vaga, with real concern, beheld his 
 disordered looks ; and accusing her
 
 VAGA. 203 
 
 own timidity, that suffered him to 
 contend with horrors to which his bo- 
 dily strength was unequal — she enter- 
 ed on, and gave (with a brief account 
 of her own history) the promised ex- 
 planation, relating to his enlarge- 
 ment; concluding the detail, by ob- 
 serving, that, should the consequences 
 of what she called her base fear to act 
 worthily, affect Edwy's life, though 
 assured of his charitable forgiveness 
 (it being a sin of omission), she could 
 never forgive herself — " But," con- 
 tinued she, " I offer you, amiable, 
 good young man, to him who can mi- 
 nister to soul and body. — -May health 
 sweetly smile on you ! and may the 
 God of all good preserve you, for the 
 sake of your suffering mother, and the 
 many, generally, whom your pious ex- 
 ample may greatly serve." 
 
 The carriage drew up, — " I am not
 
 20J; VAGA. 
 
 good at professions," said Edwy, 
 alighting, and assisting Vaga — " but 
 I know I ought to be grateful ; and I 
 think I have not an unthankful heart.'' 
 
 It is not the author's care to portray 
 the minutise of circumstances : — We 
 will leave to imagination, the widow's 
 joy at the restoration of her son — her 
 gratitude to his fair deliverer — toge- 
 ther with the gloomy scene the inter- 
 ment of Edwy's regretted sister, which 
 took place the evening after his return 
 home. 
 
 Chili was still languishing, and 
 Vaga watching by her, with a solici- 
 tude in her countenance, that told 
 her whole happiness was bound in 
 her recovery. 
 
 ** Angelic Vaga!" said Chili, smi- 
 ling through her tears, and suppressing 
 a sigh — which being clearly under- 
 stood by her excellent daughter —
 
 VAGA. 205 
 
 " Chili r* replied Vaga — in the hour 
 of trouble, let us hope for better days. 
 — All those ills may pass away, like 
 a cloud before the sun. — Be you, 
 then, the sun to cheer and enliven 
 me ; and Vaga will, with grateful 
 transport, bask in the friendly ray she 
 loves." 
 
 '' Sainted creature !" said Chili, " I 
 repose on your affection : — it is the 
 polar star to guide me to peace and 
 happiness ; and, when our ' sorrows 
 pass away — the joy that shall succeed, 
 will indeed resemble the sun, which 
 shines, after the cloud, with redoubled 
 lustre. — Yes ! we will hope, and per- 
 haps be disappointed — yet we will 
 hope still ; for the siren, though she 
 cheats, cheers." 
 
 " Poor Edwy !" said Vaga— "I left 
 him very ill last night. Pray God 
 he may be better to-day. — Oh ! Chili,
 
 9i06 VAGA. 
 
 for you I rigorously and undauntedly 
 combated all the terrors of the heart — 
 deliberately surrendered up the friend 
 whom I love best on earth, and — leav- 
 ing the good Angelo to his resent- 
 ments — dared to follow and adhere to 
 you: yet (with shame I speak it) too 
 soon I turned recreant; for, in the 
 cause of this good youth, I played the 
 coward." 
 
 " Say not so," replied Chili : '' ra- 
 ther say you had courage to oppose 
 principle to inclination; and that, in 
 order to be just to one, you repressed 
 your generosity towards another: — 
 therefore, 'tis I, not you, that am to 
 blame. — But, dear Vaga, my heart 
 whispers, that Edwy will soon be 
 well; and in that whisper there is no 
 deception : — therefore, let your spirit 
 be at peace, and rest in confidence on 
 that boundless goodness, which visits
 
 VAGA. 207 
 
 i 
 the lowest and weakest of his crea- 
 tures with beneficence, to bless and 
 raise up Edwy — the favorite of Hea- 
 ven !" 
 
 The postman's knock electrifying 
 Vaga, she started up — and, hearing 
 her landlady loudly vociferate her 
 name, breathless with expectation, 
 ran down stairs, and received a sealed 
 packet, which, on opening, she found 
 to contain bank of Ireland notes to 
 the amount of five thousand pounds 
 sterling. 
 
 Astonishment sealed our heroine's 
 lips: — she hurried to the bed, and, 
 gently dropping the national paper 
 into Chili's hand, prostrated herself 
 before God. 
 
 " 'Tis from our good genius," said 
 Chili, examining the notes : — then 
 Vaga, rising, read aloud the let- 
 ter : —
 
 208 VAGA. 
 
 " When Virtue spoke, Vaga was 
 tried, and proved! — Be then, in fu- 
 ture, a trusty steward in the service of 
 benevolence. — I invest you with full 
 power to act : — yield a part, and your 
 store shall be replenished. — Go ! visit 
 hospitals and prisons : — seek out the 
 victims of disease and penury : — fur- 
 nish medicine to the sick, food to the 
 hungry, raiment to the naked. — Let 
 the sound of gladness re-echo through 
 the mansion of despair — and, as graves 
 shall, at the great day, give up the 
 dead — so, at your intercession, let 
 jails surrender to new life their no 
 less ^gloomy inhabitants. — Neither be 
 you unmindful of the frail unfortunate; 
 for it is the duty of true charity to 
 exhort the erring to repentance — to 
 whisper hope and consolation to the 
 dejected — and, finally, to raise up 
 those that fall. — Be kind to all—be
 
 VAGA. 9.09 
 
 harsh to none : — treat, with the ut- 
 most softness, the hardened ; for ten- 
 derness is an emoUient designed for 
 the heart ; and, when you look upon 
 the corrupt — see the weakness of hu- 
 man nature, and let the warning affect 
 you. — Learn humility. — Scorn none 
 but the proud ; and know, that man's 
 best strength is false, unless invigo- 
 rated by virtue. — Vaga, your charac- 
 ter is not yet formed : but experience 
 shall complete what precept has begun. 
 — The path of life is a thorny maze ; 
 and its briars have torn and pierced 
 you already ; but, from simples, a 
 precious balsam is often extracted. — 
 Yes ! we will travel in quest of this 
 salutary herb; and its juice shall heal 
 all up. — Then, Vaga, go forth. — Your 
 way shall not be solitary, nor your 
 labor unrequited : for, at each pass.
 
 210 VAGA. 
 
 you will meet a sister, and the sons of 
 the earth shall cherish my wanderer. 
 
 ** Bathmendi." 
 
 " Dublin, August 6th, 1801.'' 
 
 The secret was expounded. — Vaga 
 felt whence the bounty came. — " Oh ! 
 Angelo!" thought slic — " my honored, 
 my beloved father! — 1 have found 
 you again — but have not words to 
 greet you; for feeling, like spirit, is 
 invisible. — I was in darkness till you 
 appeared. — A bright constellation you 
 are; and, at an humble distance, I 
 will ever pursue you." 
 
 Our heroine never slackened in the 
 performance of her duties. Each day 
 was now devoted to general useful- 
 ness, in the cause of society ; and, 
 after her employment, when she re- 
 turned home, how sweet the reflexion,
 
 VAGA. gll 
 
 that invited her to rest, having the 
 power to say — 
 
 " My God ! I have been engaged in 
 your service, rescued the poor debtor 
 from confinement — the diseased from 
 death — the poor from want — and the 
 abandoned from despair. — Yes ! and 
 such deeds being mine, well may I 
 bless the hour that I was born, for I 
 have not lived in vain." 
 
 Nor did Edwy, when able to go 
 abroad, hesitate to join in her pious 
 labors ; for he was, like Vaga, the 
 enthusiastic votary of universal Na- 
 ture. 
 
 This youth was watchful : but deep 
 thought, not self-reproach, kept him 
 waking. He generally rose with the 
 lark : and, when the morning appeared 
 fine, desirous to share the imparted 
 blessing — softly tapping at our he- 
 roine's chamber door —
 
 21g VAGA. 
 
 " Oh ! my Vaga ! " be would say 
 — waste not in sleep the sweet hour, 
 which Nature and genius loves. — 
 Come, with me, into the morning air; 
 the early gale is fraught with health 
 and freshness. — It is Zephyrus, that 
 causes the flowers to blow. He will 
 play round your face, and forehead, 
 more invigorating than Arabia's spice ; 
 and the sun, as it rises, shall catch its 
 brightest beam from you." 
 
 Vaga loved walking, and the coun- 
 try ; and many times, accompanied by 
 Edwy, did she stroll out, aud visit the 
 beautiful and magnificent scenery, 
 which the environs of Dublin display, 
 particularly the Phoenix Park. Here, 
 seated on the green turf, listening to 
 the sweet melody of the feathered song- 
 sters, they would pass whole hours; for 
 this amiable young pair delighted in 
 simple pleasures. Then, climbing the
 
 VAGA. i2l3 
 
 little hills, that adorned and crowned 
 the plain — contemplating with trans- 
 port, through vista's of trees, a beau- 
 tiful extent of prospect, rich in ver- 
 dure, and bounded by mountain sce- 
 nery, would they offer up homage to 
 the Creator, in the admiration with 
 which his wonderful works inspired 
 them. 
 
 Loved and loving, Edwy aspired 
 only to the possession of hi^s mis- 
 tress's heart. Vaga's esteem and con- 
 fidence appeared to him the height of 
 human felicity. — To see her, to attend 
 upon her, to be employed for her good, 
 was infinite joy to him : but, as for 
 the gratification of the senses — a 
 thought that way neither debased 
 the delicacy of his attachment, nor 
 offended the innocence and purity 
 of its object. — The pleasures Edwy 
 sought, were those of the mind : and
 
 214 VAGA, 
 
 none other are durable. — The delicious 
 calm of pure and temperate felicity 
 alone is lasting; and the aifections of 
 Edwy, well regulated by wisdom and 
 virtue, partook more of the character 
 of sober friendship, than of the lively 
 emotions of the heart ; and when love 
 is thus nearly allied to reason, Heaven's 
 own voice responds to that of Nature.
 
 215 
 
 CHAPTER 5. 
 
 " Edwy," said Vaga, " it is required 
 of me, by Bathmendi, to search out 
 objects of charity, generally. — Guided 
 by observation, and feeling, I have 
 already given two thousand five hun- 
 dred pounds to the relief of private in- 
 dividuals ; and it becomes my next 
 care to inform myself respecting the 
 many benevolent institutions existing 
 in this city, which, calling loudly for 
 panegyric, have rendered Dublin de- 
 servedly renowned for its charity. 
 
 In pursuing this inquiry, the young 
 pair first directed their attention to
 
 216 VAGA. 
 
 the Foundling Hospital; and, having 
 gained admittance, behold them re- 
 viewing, with awful admiration, this 
 sublime testimonial of the vice and the 
 ^virtue of man. 
 
 At each cradle sat a nurse, in at- 
 tendance on two children. — Vaga 
 looked upon a blooming, smiling in- 
 fant : — it lifted up its little hand ; and 
 a drop of social tenderness fell from 
 Vaga's eye. 
 
 Vaga then turned round her head : 
 — another child met her sight : — it 
 was wan and worn, and in strong con- 
 vulsions. 
 
 *' Oh ! suffering babe ! " said Vaga, 
 *V how shall the authors of thy mi- 
 sery answer unto thee? — There, for- 
 lorn innocent ! thou liest stretched 
 in all the agony of death ! — No parent 
 — no relative — no natural friend, to 
 close thy heavy eye-lids, and kiss
 
 VAGA. 217 
 
 away the tear upon thy cheek ! — - 
 Oh ! man ! such, too often, is the 
 price nature pays for thy brutality 
 and wickedness ! Wronged beauty, 
 shame, and the timorous part of wo- 
 man, mutinous to tenderness (because 
 betrayed), cuts through the tie that 
 should hold the mother to her oiF- 
 spring : — yea ! ere it has yet been 
 born — and, when the hapless tell-tale 
 reaches the goal of life — behpld the 
 little stranger (as it were) solitary and 
 
 alone, left to — die! But there is 
 
 one bosom still open to the outcast. 
 Meek charity in this her hallowed 
 fane presides; and the refuse of the 
 earth is taken under her fostering 
 wing. Here, mercy, in divine perfec- 
 tion, is at hand, preparing for the suf- 
 fering innocent, when, like the trou- 
 bled sea, it cannot rest, the last retreat 
 from human woe, tlie grave." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 VAGA. 
 
 Vaga subscribed five hundred 
 pounds to the fund for .the support 
 of the Foundling Hospital ; and next 
 proceeded to visit the Lock Hospital, 
 established for the recovery of dis- 
 eased beauty, 
 
 " I shall subscribe seven hundred 
 and fifty pounds to this institution," 
 said Vaga, as she ascended the steps. 
 — Several medical men, high in repu- 
 tation, passed out, as she went in. 
 But not choosing to view a scene 
 which could only shock modesty, she 
 inquired of the superintendant, if 
 among the patients there were any 
 who were likely to leave the way of 
 wickedness. She left a handsome dona- 
 tion to be given to such as, it might be 
 hoped, only wanted the means to live, 
 and who would willingly reform if as- 
 sistance was lent to their endeavours. 
 
 Something like a skeleton appeared.
 
 VAGA. 219 
 
 — Vaga started. — It was a young wo- 
 man : her countenance was cadave- 
 rous — her form shrunk, and withered : 
 — and, as she passed, tottering in her 
 weakness, our heroine stretched forth 
 her hand, and saved the languid 
 wretch from falling. 
 
 " Poor enfeebled creature!" said 
 Vaga. — " Here, lean on me — I'll as* 
 sist you." 
 
 " Oh !" interposed the guide,, " this 
 is the girl that was discharged 
 this mornino*. — She is well enough 
 now, only a little weak or so; but, 
 though young in years, she is old in 
 sin ; and I'll lay ten to one she's back in 
 the hospital, in one month, as bad as 
 ever." 
 
 *' Do not reproach her," said Vaga, 
 *^ for taunts only drive the guilty to 
 despair !" 
 
 L 2
 
 220 VAGA. 
 
 The unfortunate raised her sunken 
 eyes, and looking up in Vaga's face — 
 burst into tears. 
 
 " If repentant," said Vaga, (ten- 
 derly drying with her handkerchief 
 the drops that fell), '' hope, poor girl, 
 and weep no more." 
 
 Again the hapless wretch looked 
 up, and again our heroine addressed 
 soft words of comfort to her. 
 
 " Who is it that deigns to speak so 
 gently to one so lost?" said the un- 
 fortunate. 
 
 ** A being, who pities the whole of 
 her suffering species," replied Vaga ; 
 " but never shall take upon her to 
 condemn any." 
 
 " God bless you for your forbear- 
 ance !'' was now repeated, in querulous 
 accents, by the unfortunate. 
 
 She was now turning away from 
 Vaga ; —
 
 VAGA. 2£1 
 
 ** Whither are you going?" said 
 Vaga, stopping her. 
 
 " Into the streets," answered the 
 trembler. 
 
 '* Have you no home?" 
 
 " No, none." 
 
 " Have you no natural friends?" 
 
 '* None that will acknowledge me," 
 said the unfortunate. 
 
 ** And are you about to resume 
 
 your misciauiv. v^v^^^ovc 
 
 '' I have no other means to live,** 
 rejoined the wretch ; " and I fear to— 
 die!" 
 
 " Then," said Vaga, " if you are 
 sorry for the past, and will reclaim 
 from sin, you shall be protected." So 
 saying, motioning to the poor girl to 
 follovir, she walked on. 
 
 Our heroine was now joined by 
 Edwy. Taking his arm, and pointing 
 to her follower, she said : 
 L 3
 
 222 VAGA. 
 
 " We shall not go home without 
 our errand, my friend; for I bring 
 with me a creature once lost, and 
 hope to restore the strayed sheep to 
 the Shepherd." 
 
 Vaga had no sooner arrived at her 
 lodging, than the landlady, having got 
 a glimpse of the unfortunate, hastened 
 after Edwy, to make what she called 
 the necessary inquiries : and the youth, 
 unpractised in any disguise, (because 
 virtue needs none), garrulous in praise 
 of his beloved Vaga, gave a full ac- 
 count, how, and where, she had passed 
 the morning. 
 
 The hostess, greatly affected by the 
 mention of so much wealth, contrived 
 to squeeze out a tear at that part of 
 the narrative which related to tlie 
 Foundling Hospital : but, when the 
 youth touched on the Lock — surprise, 
 throwino; her off all guard, venting
 
 VAGA. 223 
 
 nothing but invective against that in- 
 stitution, she declared it was a nui- 
 sance in the city — an encouragement 
 to vice — that every modest woman 
 was ready to expire with shame at the 
 mention of it; and that, for her part, 
 she would rather go a mile out of her 
 road any day, than subject her eyes to 
 be oifended by the sight of it. 
 
 '* Then," said Edwy, '' how will 
 you bring yourself to look upon one 
 that was once its unhappy tenant? 
 for the amiable Vaga has taken under 
 her protection a creature just dis- 
 charged from that establishment." 
 
 The hostess was combustible ; and 
 her pride catching the alarm : '^ What !" 
 said she, (her face in a blaze), " is my 
 honest dwelling turned into a nest for 
 wantons? my house polluted, and my 
 good name exposed to the censure of 
 my neighbours, for harbouring those 
 L 4
 
 S24 VAGA. 
 
 whom every door is shut against? — 
 However, I shall take warning in time, 
 and put the hussy out." 
 
 But this good lady, though she was 
 so very rigid in the support of her re- 
 putation, was not over-scrupulous in 
 the observance of her word. Certain 
 it is she went up stairs in a rage: 
 but she cooled before she came down 
 again ; for Vaga softened her heart to- 
 wards the unfortunate, by putting 
 into her hand a fee for her good-will. 
 And here it m.ay be necessary as well 
 to observe, that after she had lived 
 some time with Vaga, and evinced by 
 her behaviour that she was a sincere 
 penitent, her benefactress prevailed on 
 a benevolent lady to take the unfortu- 
 nate girl into her service, and had the 
 satisfaction to find her charity was 
 not abused. 
 
 Twelve hundred pounds were still
 
 VAGA. 225 
 
 in bank ; and the following day Vaga 
 sent a donation, of one hundred 
 pounds each, to six other charitable 
 institutions in the city ; viz. Simp- 
 son's Hospital for the Blind, — the Or- 
 phan House, — the Incurable, — Madam 
 Stephens's, — tlie Fever Hospital, — and 
 the Magdalen Asylum : reserving the 
 remaining six hundred pounds, as a 
 deposite to the memory of the immor- 
 tal Swift: — that extraordinary genius, 
 who silenced criticism with one stroke 
 of his pen ! who, glorious as the sun, 
 enlightened, cheered, and dazzled all 
 mankind with his brightness ! and 
 whose last beam transcends the efful- 
 gence of his life's course; because, 
 when he set, he went down in the 
 bosom of his country, warming and 
 smiling on her devoted children, in 
 their gloom ! 
 
 It was about twelve o'clock at noon 
 L 5
 
 226 VAGA. 
 
 when Vaga and Edwy appeared at 
 the gate of St. Patrick's Hospital, 
 requiring admittance. 
 
 " You may walk into the court- 
 yard," said the porter, *' beckoning 
 a man forward, that stood in the 
 porch. 
 
 The man advanced : — " Who do 
 you want?" said he, scowling at the 
 youthful pair. 
 
 Edwy soon satisfied his inquiries; 
 and the fellow's visage brightening,, 
 iie put his hand to his hat. 
 
 ** There can be no objection to 
 your seeing the establishment," said 
 the man; " and, as I have some power 
 here, I'll undertake to guide, and ex- 
 plain every thing to you." 
 
 A gratuity for his trouble was given; 
 and the fellow, with subservient civi- 
 lity, led the way. 
 
 Entering one of the wards appro-
 
 VAGA. 227 
 
 priated to lunatics on the foundation, 
 the whispering sound of several voices 
 hummed along the walls; and Vaga, 
 clinging close to Edwy, cast a fearful 
 glance around. 
 
 O ! it was a tomb of living death ! 
 The sun rose on the exterior; but all 
 was dark within ! 
 
 A yell struck Vaga's ear ! She 
 grasped Edwy's arm. 
 
 " Young lady," said the guide, 
 ** let not the cries of the insane 
 terrify you, for here they are kept 
 from every mischief." 
 
 A lunatic sitting on the ground, 
 now catching Vaga's gown, piteously 
 repeated r 
 
 *' Bring me to my mother ! Bring 
 me to my mother ! " Another came 
 flitting by; and putting her fore- 
 finger on her lip, whispered :
 
 228. VAGA. 
 
 " Hush! hush! or they'll hear 
 you.'' 
 
 Next was seen a form, anxiously 
 pursuing her own shadow, playing on 
 the floor ! Then came forward a being 
 platting straws, and smiling on va- 
 cancy. 
 
 Vaga's soul yearned to give them 
 comfort: but the light of consolation 
 fell In vain ; for madness is sometimes 
 insensible to the friendly ray. 
 
 A knock was heard ; and the door 
 being opened, an elderly lady was 
 admitted. Her presence was noble — 
 her aspect full of benign sweetness. 
 She stepped with firmness ; yet the 
 tear, trembling on her eye-lid, be- 
 trayed the meltings of her heart. 
 
 An universal greeting marked her 
 approach. Some kissed her hand. 
 Others courtesied. Many more tes-
 
 VAGA. £29 
 
 tified their joy by a laugh : and 
 not a few pressed about her, de- 
 monstrating their regard in vari- 
 ous ways. The first expressed a 
 tender welcome. The second chided 
 her for not coming sooner. — And 
 every countenance testified the joy 
 her presence caused. 
 
 Vaga's heart bounded to meet the 
 stranger: and Edwy, no less prepos- 
 sessed, respectfully moved aside. 
 
 " That is the strangest 'woman 
 alive," said the guide, in an under 
 tone, looking after the lady. 
 
 *' May I ask who she is?" re- 
 joined the youth, speaking in the 
 same key. 
 
 " They call her Benigma here," 
 said the man: — " but that's not her 
 right name. She visits us every day, 
 and, in my • mind, she's as mad as 
 Bedlam, herself: but, if I had the
 
 Q30 VAGA. 
 
 taming of her, I think I'd soon let 
 her know who I am : for you can't 
 think all the trouble she gives the 
 people ! Coming, every day, to see 
 justice administered, (as she says). 
 Calling us to task if the least thing 
 goes amiss. Threatening to complain 
 to the courts, and talking law, if we 
 so much as budge. And, somehow, 
 we are all got very shy of her; for 
 she has words at will, and never 
 spares any, but idiots, and the like : 
 and, to right them, I do in my heart 
 believe she would face a cannon : but 
 there's something wrong in her. If 
 she w^as a natural body, would she 
 take delight in such dismal creatures 
 as these? Soothing, and making much 
 of them; buying them this, that, and 
 the other! — I'll not credit it. Fools 
 of that description are not going, now- 
 a-days,'*
 
 VAGA. 231 
 
 Turning into another apartment, the 
 old lady advanced to meet them. 
 
 " Ah!" said she, " what have you 
 done with my poor friend?" 
 
 " Your friend is safe enough," re- 
 plied the fellow, gruffly. 
 
 " Safe, I believe," said the old 
 lady; " but is the good creature 
 well?" 
 
 " All within these walls," rejoined 
 the keeper, " have every proper care 
 and attention paid them ; and that is 
 all I know about the matter." 
 
 " Of the care and attention paid to 
 patients in this heaven-born institu- 
 tion," replied the old lady, " I never 
 entertained a doubt. The humanity 
 that raised it, shall prop it up for ever^ 
 nor dare you^ or any other hireling, 
 wantonly touch a single hair on the 
 head of any individual whom it pro- 
 tects. The laws are its guardians;
 
 232 VAGA. 
 
 and God himself watches over hi- 
 natics and little children." 
 
 The fellow's manners, a little soft- 
 ened by this just rebuke, he relaxed 
 from his reserve, and informed the 
 lady, that her friend had been out- 
 rageous, and was obliged to be con- 
 fined. 
 
 Vaga saw the tear that dropt from 
 Benigma's eye. 
 
 " Sir," said she, " I left a manu- 
 script of mine with my poor friend, 
 the last day I was here; and perhaps 
 you will have the goodness to get it 
 for me?" 
 
 " With pleasure," replied the 
 keeper, '^ if this lady and gentle- 
 man (bowing to Vaga and Edwy) 
 will excuse my attendance for a mo- 
 ment : and the young pair testifying 
 the most willing compliance, he pro- 
 ceeded into au adjoining cell, and was
 
 VAGA. Q33 
 
 heard loudly demanding the manu- 
 script. 
 
 " Let me see Benigma," replied a 
 voice : " but, until then, I'll die, ere 
 I part with what she gave me in care." 
 
 The keeper attempted to take the 
 manuscript by force. 
 
 ** No, no!" exclaimed the voice: 
 ^* as the property of an insane, you 
 want to keep it; but I'll die ere a line 
 be lost to my kind friend." 
 
 Benigma was all heart. — '* Desist/* 
 cried she, " I beg — I command !" 
 
 The keepei, grinning horribly, came 
 out. 
 
 ** Oh! my friend!" repeated the 
 voice within, " are you come to save 
 me?" 
 
 ** Be calm," replied Benigma. 
 
 ** Will you not come to me?" re- 
 joined the voice. " Surely you cannot 
 be afraid of one, who would die to pro-«
 
 234 VAGA. 
 
 tect you ! But, if so, let nie remain 
 here — even here, for ever, rather than 
 alarm the delicate, noble mind of my 
 Benigma!" 
 
 The old lady rushed into the cell: 
 but a moment had scarcely elapsed, 
 when she returned, evidently sur- 
 prised and shocked. 
 
 *' I'm sure," said the keeper, red- 
 dening, *' for the life of me I can't 
 tell what you are making such a fuss 
 about ! If we try our hearts out, we 
 can't please you! Howsomever, it is 
 almost impossible to satisfy some 
 women ; because they must have 
 every thing their own w^ay, and 
 never have the least consideration, 
 or make the smallest allow^ances, for 
 a man, in the exercise of his duty; 
 which is hard enough upon us at 
 times : looking after them who can't 
 look after themselves, and keeping
 
 VAGA. 9,35 
 
 things to order all the day long; 
 but if it be along of taking away 
 the clothes you are in such a fluster, 
 would you have us leave them to be 
 torn to tatters? I declare, (rubbing 
 down his sleek chin), I wonder a set- 
 tled pejson of your standing would 
 not be more discreet, in a manner, 
 than to indulge foolishness, and come 
 here, talking nonsense from morning 
 till night ! But I suppose it was after 
 this rate you made ducks and drakes 
 of your fine estate, that is, a!s they tell 
 me, at nurse for your extravagance." 
 
 " True," faintly articulated Be- 
 nigma. " ^ The children of darkness 
 are wiser than the children of light!' 
 I am, indeed, another Timon, and have 
 scarcely any thing left to give : but 
 not, like him, a misanthrope; for, if I 
 had the means, I would bestow largely 
 on those in need. But I do not repine*
 
 236 VAGA. 
 
 Having health, and a conscience un- 
 sullied, I may still reckon on countless 
 blessings : and the joys of heaven, sub- 
 ject to no decay, are mine, I am free 
 from obligation to any, and above in- 
 sult : and though the want of liberal 
 means may sometimes hurt my^ mind, 
 having the wish, without the ability, 
 to assist my poor friends, and even my 
 enemies, in distress, I bow to the su- 
 preme decree; assured that the wisdom 
 of him, who penetrates his own works, 
 promotes what is best for us ; knowing 
 that in poverty his creatures find se- 
 curity; xor then hope and faith blos- 
 som. 
 
 ^' Benigma!" replied the voice, " in 
 your heart there is yet a fund rich in 
 mercy ! Your energies are equal to 
 all my wants; and you have to spare 
 for other imbeciles like myself. Money 
 bestowed on such as sve, would be as
 
 VAGA. 237, 
 
 dust before a hurricane. But you 
 bring us better : you come replete 
 with consolation, and you are our 
 shield! The Divinity, in you called 
 mind, beams sweetly, on beclouded 
 melancholy, a soft and soothing ray ; 
 which, seen, and always hailed by 
 madness, resembles her first and last 
 solace, the moon : that gentle and 
 tender light, breaking the profound 
 and horrid darkness which at stated 
 intervals crosses the sun in his path, 
 and involves the world." 
 
 ** Yes," replied Benigma ; " and 
 you, my friend, were once a luminary. 
 But now, (weeping) what are you? 
 A chained eagle, the bird of Jove, 
 whose sight, only, can salute the sun! 
 Alas! alas!" continued the old lady, 
 " and are you bound no more to 
 resume your celestial flight? No more 
 to exert those wondrous powers,
 
 238 VAGA. 
 
 which are the property of miiid ? 
 But your understanding soared too 
 high, and none on earth are permitted 
 to pass a certain boundary. ••• -'Tis 
 then from natural and physical 
 causes your wings have been chpped. 
 Yet your agency, of sublime and 
 heavenly importance, is only sus- 
 pended for a time; and, if not herCy 
 you shall, at least, hereafter, come 
 forth perfect; for Heaven leaves not 
 its own work unfinished." 
 
 " No!" said the voice, energeti- 
 cally ; " I will not die for any ; rather, 
 let me live for all." 
 
 " Rare creature!" replied Benigma: 
 '^ Are we not daily dying, that we 
 may live for ever? What so oft as 
 affliction snaps the tenure of our lives? 
 Sorrow causes pain, and pain termi- 
 nates in death." 
 
 ** You reason on principles," said
 
 VAGA. ^39 
 
 the voice : " but I suffer no pain. I 
 only feel a little cold; for the place is 
 chill around me." 
 
 " When you behave well," roared 
 the keeper, *' you shall have your 
 clothes; and not till then." 
 
 The old lady darted an angry 
 glance at the cruel giber. 
 
 " Restore them instantly!" said 
 she, in a tone that enforced command. 
 *' Nay, no arguments; I'll hear none. 
 I shall be answerable for the issue." 
 
 " If you provide more clothes," 
 replied the keeper, " in case these are 
 destroyed, I'm sure I can have no 
 objection to your seeing your fancy 
 out; and, as you are in for it, (kicking 
 a small parcel out of an adjacent 
 corner), perhaps you will follow the 
 business up, and take upon yourself to 
 deliver the finery where it will be 
 soon made a dress of,"
 
 240 VAGA. 
 
 " I have no fears," said the old 
 lady, " and shall most willingly be the 
 bearer, as far as delicacy will permit." 
 
 Here, Edwy, smiling significantly 
 at Benigma, caught up the parcel, and 
 darted into the cell. 
 
 " How kind is that youth!" said 
 the old lady. ** Nor am I less in- 
 debted to you, my sweet girl," now 
 viewing our heroine with evident ad- 
 miration and pleasure. 
 
 " Madam !" replied Vaga, courtesy- 
 ing, *^ we are happy, most happy, to 
 be suffered to attend upon you ; and 
 amply repaid by your polite notice." 
 
 The Vermillion of sensibility mant- 
 led on Benigma's cheek. She took 
 Vaga's hand; and, gently pressing it, 
 said with tenderness : 
 
 " I shall not forget you in my 
 prayers. But, tell me : — (Ah ! may I 
 ask) — tell me, my dear young lady,
 
 VAOA. 241 
 
 are you come, like me, to sympathize 
 with some unhappy sufferer within 
 these walls?" 
 
 " All beneath this roof," replied 
 Vaga, " are my brothers and sisters ; 
 and the visitation under which they 
 labour, is an additional claim on my 
 regards." 
 
 " Methinks you are too young for 
 a philosopher," said the old lady, 
 looking with increased pleasure at the 
 lovely speaker. 
 
 " Youth is the season for joy and 
 tenderness," replied Vaga ; " and dis- 
 pensing happiness is the true way to 
 receive it.*' 
 
 Benigma smiled. — " I should like to 
 have some more conversation with 
 you, another opportunity, my dear," 
 said she. 
 
 Vaga courtesied gracefully. " The 
 honor you propose, madam," replied 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 VAGA. 
 
 she, " I gratefully accept; and to 
 deserve it, shall be my future care." 
 
 At this pause Edvvy appeared, lead- 
 ing forward a gentleman in decay. 
 His steps were uneven, his face pale 
 and thin, and his voice was feeble. 
 
 He caught the offered hand of 
 Benigma; and tears of gratitude and 
 feeling showered down upon it. 
 
 Vaga uttered an exclamation. It 
 was the Chevalier whom she remem- 
 bered to have seen at the Temple of 
 the Muses. He raised his drooping 
 head, and instantly recognizing her, a 
 faint beam of joy irradiated his de- 
 jected countenance, and he saluted her 
 respectfully. 
 
 The Chevalier adverted to the sor- 
 rows of his life — but complained of 
 none. 
 
 " As it has pleased God to afflict 
 me," said he, " I shall be taken every
 
 VACxA. 243 
 
 care of here. The doctors are skilful 
 and humane ; and it behoves every 
 servant in the house to be tender and 
 kind to the patients." 
 
 ** Why were you confined to your 
 cell?" said Benigma. 
 
 " I transgressed rules," said he ; 
 *' and the best intentions are liable to 
 misrepresentation. — Children might 
 sleep safe in my bosom ; but I am a 
 lion when attacked, and I believe I 
 was a little unmanageable, in the de- 
 fence of a poor dog, that I imagined 
 was treated cruelly. But I rescued 
 the animal ; and see where he comes, 
 (pointing to a little black terrier, 
 creeping towards him), to thank me 
 for my friendly interference." 
 
 The dog, now kindly caressed by 
 his generous preserver, frisked about 
 him, almost wild with joy ; and then 
 M 2
 
 244 VAGA. 
 
 crouching, lay down at the Chevalier's 
 feet 
 
 " What a lesson for man!" ex- 
 claimed Benigma, stroking the animal 
 on the head. — " Yes ! poor faithful 
 hrute, it belongs to your species to feel 
 truly so kind a service — because ye 
 are vit\^x forgetful of it." 
 
 " I never could call a dog a brute 1" 
 said Vaga. ** I never could denomi- 
 nate him less than what he is : — the 
 friend and faithful follower of man." 
 
 A nervous affection oppressed the 
 Chevalier ; and, the lucid interval 
 past, reclining on Edwy's bosom, he 
 wept like a child- • • -When the dog, 
 springing up, licked his hands and his 
 face ; stemming (as it were) with love 
 the torrent of his grief. 
 
 " Yes ! good dog," said Benigma, 
 (again encouraging the animal), " my
 
 VAGA. S45 
 
 heart interprets what you would say. 
 You are pointing out the remedy for 
 your preserver ; and, in impassioned 
 language, telling us (if we would be 
 taught by you), that soothing, gentle 
 tenderness, is a powerful restorative 
 for a diseased mind : and the case we 
 witness, is merely a delirium! — Yes!" 
 she added, " the great and noble 
 heart, when shaken by emotion, will 
 flutter, in proportion to the vstrength 
 of its sensations; and it is the curse of 
 sensibility, to feel too acutely : — but, 
 sooner than vent complaint, the 
 proudly injured and resolute spirit 
 will burst an artery — or go mad ! — 
 This is the season for friends to qualify 
 these troublesome feelings, by affec- 
 tion and kindness : and had the Che- 
 valier a fond mother, a tender sister, 
 to watch over and console him, how 
 soon would the recovery of his ia- 
 M 3
 
 246 VAGA. 
 
 tellects bless and reward their exer- 
 tions!" 
 
 Oh, woman ! — Man's supreme joy, 
 and rational dehght, you are in the 
 most extended sense. His peace is in 
 your keeping ; his happiness, in your 
 bosom ; and his ftlicity is your work. 
 • •••When boisterous, your softness 
 tranquillizes him : when sorrowful, to 
 your gentleness he turns for consola- 
 tion : when fatigued by toll and care, 
 into your arms he sinks lor rest : — and 
 your love is wakeful for him.---* 
 Your vices are derived from him: your 
 mrlues are your cxvn ! You were born 
 for his good, although he sometimes 
 perverts the blej>sing !••• -Woman is 
 mo7^€, and less, than man ! — If msLufeil 
 by woman : by woman he was cralted, 
 and reinstated again; for the Saviour 
 of the wi rid was born of woman. — 
 Woman is more patient than man. —
 
 VAGA. 247 
 
 See her with her offspring at her 
 breast ! — Trace her through the seve- 
 ral duties of wife and mother ; and 
 her perseverance may be considered 
 as characteristic of the sex. Woman 
 is more capable of loving, because she 
 loveth long. — Woman resembles an 
 enslaved state : she is afraid to trust to 
 her own strength : or rather, she 
 knows not the extent of it. In the 
 natural history of woman, notjhing can 
 exceed the strength of her affections, 
 but the tenderness and dehcacy which 
 refine them : her genuine feelings, like 
 light and shade, throw out the finer 
 and more fugitive lines of character, 
 and the impression is nature herself! 
 On the fair form of beauty, the dispo- 
 sitions of the mind seem to reflect an 
 higher style of loveliness and exterior 
 attractions, so susceptible of that 
 exquisiteness called expression, po- 
 M 4
 
 248 VAGA. 
 
 lishcd by the powers of intellect. In 
 the mental system of woman may be 
 traced an association of the gentler 
 and more prominent virtues. Alarm 
 the maternal, or tender character, and 
 the attitudes of the female shall faith- 
 fully represent all the softness that 
 seduces us to love, blended with a 
 heroism that shall command awful 
 respect. — The character of woman, as 
 here drawn in its general form and 
 features, lays claim to the moral, 
 sublime, and beautiful. It is natural 
 that a lady-artist should cast in shade 
 any little defect existing in the ori- 
 ginal, and love rather to make a good 
 picture^ than a likeness. That she has 
 done ample justice to the merits of her 
 sex, will be admitted. But, as she 
 professes to respect truth above any 
 thing, and every thing, in this world, 
 she must not subject herself to incur
 
 VAGA. 249 
 
 the charge of extravagance, by either 
 a false or partial delineation of the 
 character she has ventured to draw 
 It is no mean compliment to woman, 
 to glance at the intellectual, as well as 
 personal, empire she might maintain 
 in the order of society. But this 
 remark requires explanation, as I 
 would not be understood — let her 
 excellence even attain its zenith, so 
 as to illustrate what woman ought to 
 be — to offend my own judgement, by 
 giving her an equal rank, in the 
 government of the world, with man. 
 No, Nature has designed it otherwise; 
 and her laws are unerring. Women 
 feel differently, act differently, and 
 their duties lie in another direction. 
 Did women study the essential charge 
 intrusted by the Almighty to their 
 care, we should not have so many 
 turbulent spirits let loose on society, 
 
 M 5
 
 250 VAGA. 
 
 to disturb its peace. The early infant 
 state devolves on the mothea-; and the 
 first, second, or third year, forms the 
 bent of the mind, either for virtue, or 
 vice. — The unreflecting and inconsi- 
 derate may ridicule my ideas. But I 
 do not wield the pen for them ; but 
 appeal to all parents and guardians,' 
 who have made children their prin- 
 cipal care and study. What science so 
 difficult, as conquering the passions of 
 youth? In order to render females 
 equal to discharge this most arduous 
 task incumbent on them, I think the 
 education of women material to the 
 good of society. But, in the present 
 state of things, if girls can manage to 
 keep time in a country-dance, thrum 
 an air on the piano, chatter bad 
 French, and are expert at the needle, 
 with some knowledge in housekeep- 
 ing — they are set down as highly ac-
 
 VAGA. 251 
 
 complished. — Then they dress well, 
 flirt promiscuously, and get married. 
 — Thus, without a single requisite of 
 mind, what are they fit for? Certain- 
 ly not to be man's rational com- 
 panion ; but, in truth, the slave of his 
 passions. Can such a woman, without 
 reflexion, without knowledge of the 
 world, educate her offspring, till the 
 age they enter school ? — To every in- 
 telligent mind the answer is obvious; 
 for it requires judgement, patience, 
 and some sense, to ** train up a 
 child in the way it should go."— I do 
 not mean, by this dissertation, to 
 convey the idea of a learned lady, 
 (highly as I regard the character), but 
 would portray a well-informed woman, 
 who through all her actions is guided 
 by religion. Happy are those chil- 
 dren, who have a steady, judicious 
 pilot to steer them; and happy the
 
 252 VAGA. 
 
 husband, who finds in his wife a wise 
 and enlightened bosom friend ! — But, 
 miserable — Oh, how miserable ! is the 
 marriage state, " when," in the language 
 of a respectable literary personage, 
 " joined to a woman, whose sole 
 ** object in life is to pass for a fine 
 " lady ! The attentions she every 
 " where uniformly pays, and expects, 
 *' and even exacts, are tedious and 
 " fatiguing. Her various movements 
 " and attitudes are all adjusted and 
 " exhibited by rule. By a happy 
 *^ fluency of the most elegant lan- 
 ** guage, she has the art of imparting 
 " a momentary dignity and grace to 
 " the merest trifles. And, studious 
 " only to mimic such peculiarities as 
 " are most admired in others, she 
 " affects a loquacity peculiarly flip- 
 ** pant and teasing; because scandal, 
 " routs, finery, fans, china, lovers.
 
 VAGA. 253 
 
 " lap-dogs, or squirrels, are her con- 
 ** stant themes. Her amusements, 
 ** like those of a magpie, are only 
 " hopping over the same spots, prying 
 ** into the same corners, and devour- 
 " ing the same species of prey. The 
 " simple and beautiful delineations of 
 " nature, in her countenance, ges- 
 " tures, and whole deportment, are 
 " habitually deranged, distorted, or 
 " concealed, by the aifected adoption 
 " of whatever grimace or deformity is 
 " last and most in vogue. She ac- 
 " customs her face to a simper, which 
 " every separate feature in it belies : 
 ** spoils, perhaps, a blooming com- 
 " plexion, with a profusion of artifi- 
 *' cial colouring ; distorts the most 
 " exquisite shape by loads or volumes 
 " of useless drapery ; and has her head, 
 " her arms, her feet, and her gait, 
 " equally touched by art and affecta-
 
 154} VAGA. 
 
 tion, in what is called the taste, the 
 ton, or the fashion. 
 " She little considers to what a 
 torrent of ridicule and sarcasm this 
 mode of conduct exposes her ; or 
 how exceedingly cold and low that 
 ceremony must be, which is not the 
 language of a warm heart; how in- 
 sipid those smiles which indicate 
 no internal pleasantry ; how awk- 
 ward those graces which spring not 
 from habits of good nature and 
 benevolence. Tiius, pertness suc- 
 ceeds to delicacy, assurance to 
 modesty, and all the vagaries of a 
 listless, to all the sensibilities of an 
 ingenuous, mind. Destined as she 
 is, in common with the sex, and 
 fitted by the common peculiar 
 liberality of nature, to polish and 
 console humanity, a woman of this 
 description never exerts a thought
 
 VAGA. Q55 
 
 beyond the requisitions of the ton, 
 the homage due to rank, family, 
 parade, and personal decoration. 
 With her, punctilio is politeness ; 
 dissipation, life; and levity, spirit. 
 The miserable and contemptible 
 drudge of every tawdry innovation 
 in dress or ceremony, she incessant- 
 ly mistakes extravagance for taste; 
 finery, for elegance ; and fashion, for 
 whatever strikes her as most incon- 
 gruous to simplicity and nature. 
 By flaunting the abject puppet of 
 every insignificant and preposterous 
 farce to which the fashionable 
 world gives a temporary sanction 
 and celebrity, her whole care and 
 attention are engrossed by circum- 
 stance and show. To her the deli- 
 cious recollection of an open, artless, 
 and worthy life, are not half so 
 charming, as the various tiresome
 
 Q56 VAGA. 
 
 *' insipidities and inquietudes of a 
 *' giddy one. Every idea of sub- 
 " stantial felicity is habitually ab- 
 *' sorbed in the flattering and frantic 
 " intoxications of female vanity. 
 
 " It is not, therefore, intrinsic 
 " merit, but a tinselled exterior, 
 *' which attracts her esteem ; and 
 ** she values neither candour of 
 " mind, nor modesty of carriage, 
 " when opposed to flutter or parade. 
 " Her favourite examples are not 
 " those persons of acknowledged 
 ** sincerity, who speak as they feel, 
 " and act as they think ; but such 
 " only as are found to dazzle her 
 " fancy, amuse her senses, or humour 
 " her whims. Her only study is how 
 " to glitter or shine, how to captivate 
 " and gratify the gaze of the multi- 
 " tude, or how to swell her own pomp 
 " and importance. To this interest-
 
 VAGA. 257 
 
 ing object all her assiduities and 
 time are religiously devoted. This 
 makes her the slave of every no- 
 velty, which levity, or extrava- 
 gance, or luxury, brings up ; in- 
 variably prescribes that superfluity 
 in dress and equipage of which she 
 is so fond, and addicts her to the 
 mechanical practice of every punc- 
 tilio or artifice, which folly sug- 
 gests, or proudly imposes, v 
 " The mortifications to which this 
 contemptible and fastidious turn of 
 mind exposes and subjects her, are 
 various, and without end. Her ap- 
 proaches are deemed iatrusion; her 
 affability, form or artifice, the mere 
 etiquette of the sex. She is always 
 encroaching, and always repulsed ; 
 and is, for the most part, last, only 
 from a violent propensity to be first. 
 It is because she would be above all,
 
 238 VAGA. 
 
 ** that all are so much interested in 
 ** keeping her down. The general dis- 
 " position which there manifestly is 
 " to keep her back, originates solely 
 ** in her embracing little manoeuvres 
 *^ for putting herself forward. We 
 " check impudence as naturally as 
 " we encourage modesty. A woman 
 ** of this kind, consequently, is herself 
 " the dupe of all those artifices and 
 " schemes, which she incessantly 
 " and unsuccessfully practises on 
 " others." 
 
 *^ Is there no way that we can be 
 of service to the Chevalier?" inquired 
 Vaga, tender!)/ contemplating the noble 
 ruin. 
 
 *' His fortune is independent," re- 
 plied Benigma, '* and his connexions 
 are of the first rank in the kingdom. 
 However, these acquisitions do not 
 exclude friendship and benevolence.
 
 VAGA. 259 
 
 We may cherish and watch over 
 him." 
 
 " An angel is my guardian!" said 
 the Chevalier; *' and that is Be- 
 nigma !" 
 
 " Yes, my friend," rejoined the old 
 lady, ** Providence has given you to 
 me in care ; and as I honour the sa- 
 cred charge, so may Heaven support, 
 or abandon me ! — Trust to your old 
 Benigma, for she is not to be brow- 
 beaten or flattered. She is not one of 
 those over-squeamish ladies, who would 
 make it appear, that they tremble at 
 the sight of a straw, lest a doubt of 
 their effeminacy should be enter- 
 tained ; and, under this false notion, 
 literally become drones in society; 
 useless, and good for nothing." 
 
 The noble sufferer, now tolerably 
 composed, the party took their leave ; 
 and though tears of regret trembled
 
 260 VAGA. 
 
 in his eyes, suppressing his feelings, 
 he saw them depart with apparent 
 cheerfulness, on receiving a promise 
 that they would visit him soon again. 
 
 " Ladies," said the Chevalier, 
 (speaking with all the rapidity of 
 excessive feeling), " ye have visited 
 the house of wo, to comfort the 
 wretched — and your reward lies not 
 with me; hut with Him, who made 
 ye, as ye are, matchless.'* 
 
 The gate closed after them, by Cer- 
 berus, a surly porter. — " Yes!" cried 
 Benigma, accepting Edwy's offered 
 arm; " that creature is all gratitude; 
 and his generosity exaggerates the 
 smallest civility shown him, into an 
 important service. — He has been stung 
 into madness! But, all this will cease. 
 — There must be a period to human 
 suffering; and my hopes were never 
 stronger, than at this instant. — Tell
 
 VAGA. 261 
 
 me then, sweet girl," (anxiously re- 
 garding Vaga), " when, and w^here, 
 shall we meet again, if it be only to 
 lament, together, the unhappy fate of 
 the great and good ?" 
 
 " Madam!" replied Vaga (blushing, 
 from delicacy), ^* 1 am in an obscure 
 lodging; but I shall be happy to wait 
 on you whenever your pleasure per- 
 mits." 
 
 " Then," said the old lady, (pre- 
 senting a printed card to Vaga), you 
 have my address ; and, if unengaged, 
 perhaps you and this young gentle- 
 man (bowing to Edwy) will favor 
 me with your company this evening. 
 I shall be alone, and I wish to culti- 
 vate your acquaintance." 
 
 The invitation accepted, and the 
 suitable acknowledgements made, 
 Vaga and Edwy returned home, 
 charmed with their new acquaint-
 
 262 VAGA. 
 
 ance : and our heroine, warm in the 
 praise of Benigma, was relating to 
 Chili the several occurrences of the 
 morning; when another sealed packet, 
 brought by the post, was delivered to 
 Vaga, who hastily running her eyes 
 over the cover, exclaimed — 
 
 " 'Tis marked a money letter, and 
 directed to me!" Then, impatiently 
 breaking the wax, a parcel of bank 
 paper dropt out, which proved na- 
 tional notes, in value twenty thou- 
 sand pounds. 
 
 The epistle that enveloped this trea- 
 sure, has the next claim on our atten- 
 tion. 
 
 " Estimable Vaga ! 
 
 *' Whom no vanity could tempt to 
 squander means — given to her in trust 
 for the poor — know, that the enclosed 
 sum is your own. — Vaga ! sweet es- 
 sence of generosity and truth ! — Oh !
 
 VAGA. 263 
 
 child of virtue ! rare as the plant that 
 flowers but once in a century ! you 
 evince the master- hand ! — May the 
 God, from whom you sprung, bless 
 and guide my wanderer I — You are 
 his, you were mine, and still belong 
 to millions! — Keep the post of bene- 
 volence while you stay on earth, and 
 your powers to do good shall be un- 
 bounded as your beneficence ! — Your 
 utmost expenditure shall be as' a drop 
 in the ocean ; for the wealth that sup- 
 plies you is inexhaustible! — I have 
 not found out the secret of the philo- 
 sopher's stone ; but I have explored a 
 mine rich in treasure, and Vaga shall 
 prove the true value of it, by appro- 
 priating it to the right use. You have 
 not a feeling heart given to you in 
 vain. Nor have you been sent here 
 for naught. Your heart is your own ; 
 but your hand is with the world. Let
 
 264 VAGA. 
 
 no idle fears, or petty alarms, turn you 
 from your duty : nothing minor dis- 
 turb your freedom of thought and ac- 
 tion. • • • -And now, Vaga, be great, as 
 well as good ! Be your views exten- 
 sive as the globe you inhabit I Look 
 from an individual to a whole race : 
 and next direct your attention to the 
 world en masse / • • • • 'Tis sweet to have 
 a country to love! 'Tis glorious to re- 
 gard it ! To live for the benefit of the 
 nation we call our own, is delightful ! 
 — and to die in her service, is heroic ! 
 But greater still the man, whose ample 
 mind can take in all humankind, and 
 with fraternal love embrace the uni- 
 verse. — Visit foreign countries. Tra- 
 vel leads to knowledge: and glean 
 experience as you go along. — From 
 England, take a survey of other 
 nations, and read that comprehen- 
 sive and instructive volume, entitled
 
 VAGA. Q65 
 
 men and manners! — The friendly un- 
 derstanding at present with France, 
 smiles auspicious on your projected 
 tour, and will give a safe escort to 
 ray wanderer. — Away, then ! and may 
 peace go in your train! — I dare not 
 wish you more : I dare not expect 
 more on earth for you! — Let your 
 equipage be princely. — Your worth 
 is visible only to few, of the few in 
 your sphere; and even these,^ as yet, 
 imperfectly understand you. — Never 
 hope, by the mere exercise of your 
 facilities, to gain either the regard or 
 the respect of common minds; be- 
 cause to you they apply a false train 
 of reasoning, applicable only to them- 
 selves. — Dazzle those whom you can- 
 not enlighten. 'Tis the blaze of the 
 sun that strikes the vulgar. Hence I 
 would have Genius hide her head; 
 and, solitary as the bird of wisdom, 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 £66 VAGA. 
 
 retire from the impertinent gaze — 
 unless surrounded by all the attri- 
 butes of fortune!- • • -Stay six weeks 
 longer in this metropolis, and attract 
 notice by your splendour. Fix your 
 establishment at the most fashionable 
 hotel, and cultivate an acquaintance 
 with the world. — Prior to your de- 
 parture you shall hear again from 
 your 
 
 ** Bathmendi." 
 
 " Dublin, October 31st, 1801." 
 
 What a revolution, in a single day, 
 took place in the fate of our heroine ! 
 Called from obscurity, to take a lead- 
 ing part, thus early, on the great stage 
 of life; behold her, in her seve^n teen th 
 year, preparing to take the reins com- 
 mitted to her management, in the 
 arduous journey marked out before
 
 VAOA. ^67 
 
 her. — How she will acquit herself, 
 the event alone can tell : but, when 
 we take into our consideration the 
 numerous difficulties and dangers in 
 her road : — even the surrounding air 
 spoiled by infectious depravity : — oh ! 
 can we expect unsuspecting innocence 
 (a character too often undermined by 
 the false arts of others) to preserve its 
 purity, when assailed by the tainted 
 breath of pestilence and plague? 
 
 Chili, by this time beginning to 
 experience a little amendment, gladly 
 hailed an arrangement that promised 
 much towards her restoration ; for it 
 is well known, that the influence of 
 a southern climate on debilitated 
 constitutions, has wonderful efficacy ; 
 particularly when labouring under any 
 rheumatic affection ; from which our 
 poor patient suffered severely. 
 N 2
 
 268 VAGA. 
 
 When in what manner best to pro- 
 ceed had been debated and agreed 
 upon, Vaga and Edwy went to Be- 
 nigma's lodging; to whom, without 
 reserve, they imparted the late wonder- 
 ful occurrence; omitting nothing in 
 which Bathmendi was concerned : and 
 this lady (truly a philanthropist, and 
 ardent in her admiration of the parties) 
 offered to conduct and patronize the 
 wanderer, Vaga. 
 
 '* My dear," said she, " in all ages, 
 Pagan, or otherwise, the golden calf 
 has been set up, and worshipped. — 
 Your fortune once known, you will 
 be sought, and your alliance courted. 
 — ^Those locusts, who feed and fatten 
 on the rich, will swarm around you ; 
 and, unless you are armed against the 
 venom they emit, it will w^ound and 
 annoy you. — Sink not deep; but ra-
 
 VAGA. 269 
 
 ther skim lightly over the surface of 
 society. The votaries of pleasure and 
 dissipation will present to your lips 
 an enchanting beverage ; but, if you 
 drink of this ambrosia, it will poison 
 you !• • • 'Thorns perpetually spring in 
 our path — and flowers are thinly scat- 
 tered ! • • • -The garden's pride, the rose, 
 if incautiously approached, its stem will 
 catch, and pierce ! • • • . We will view all 
 — and pluck none ; for the fruit must 
 ripen, and mature, ere it attains its 
 proper flavour ; and, even then, it re- 
 quires some portion of judgement to 
 decide upon it." 
 
 Benigma was a bankrupt only in 
 fortune. Her rank in life was highly 
 respectable. She was a colonel's 
 widow : and her husband, a gallant 
 officer, fell on the plains of America, 
 rallying and cheering his men to the 
 charge. — While Benigma was in opu- 
 N 3
 
 ^70 VAGA. 
 
 lence, flatterers and followers were in 
 her suite. Her society was deemed 
 an honour — her opinions quoted, as 
 infallible — and her protection soli- 
 cited! However, the prey once de- 
 voured, the " gad-flies of the land" 
 left the bones to bleach in the 
 sun ! 
 
 When Benigma ceased to make 
 feasts, *^ for wise men to eat," her 
 visitors dropped off; and her ac- 
 quaintance, if they met her, Jiled 
 either to the right or left ; or, af- 
 fecting absence, looked her full in the 
 face, and passed on. — But there was 
 still one rallying point, as will be seen, 
 when the fashionables, from all quar- 
 ters, flocked to Vaga's standard. 
 
 The golden key is a grand engine ! 
 It gains access to every thing, in an 
 outward point of view. This was 
 illustrated by the eclat that attended
 
 VAGA. 271 
 
 Vaga's first appearance in the great 
 world. Her carriage was of the most 
 new and elegant style, drawn by six 
 beautiful and expensive greys. Her 
 retinue displayed eastern magnificence; 
 and though the feathered sceptre was^ 
 substituted, by her modesty and truth, 
 in place of an usurped coronet; how- 
 ever light in estimation this crest of 
 honour, (more calculated to excite the 
 sneer of envy, than a due smile of 
 admiration), she was indisputably ac- 
 knowledged immensely rich : — an ar- 
 gument of such weight, in the scale 
 of public opinion, that the imposing 
 claimant's blood and ancestry, strange 
 to say, were thrown out, in the ba- 
 lance. — Her circle formed under Be- 
 nigma's introduction ; visiting cards^ 
 and invitations waited on Vaga in 
 constant succession! — Nothing was 
 sought, nothing was talked of, but 
 N 4
 
 272 VAGA. 
 
 the lovely stranger : and curiosity, 
 not yet satisfied, kept up that hurry 
 of spirits so beneficial to some, because 
 the only exercise of the vacant mind ; 
 without which, it would sink into 
 total inanity. — Who she was, and 
 where she came from, was still a 
 doubt ; nay, a general question. 
 
 The Munduriguses scornfully de- 
 clared, it did not give them a 
 thought, as they made it a rule to 
 look above, never beneath them. The 
 Levellers next agreed, that upstarts 
 certainly were notorious for puHing 
 every one down to their own level; 
 but, as to them, they only desired to 
 put people in their proper places* • • • 
 That money did not comprehend all 
 in this life, though base metal passed 
 current. That riches could not make 
 a gentleman; or purchase contentment : 
 and, that a showv outside was often
 
 VAGA. 273 
 
 hollow within! — The Strappers^ of 
 Tatterdash hall, insisted, that Vaga 
 showed little, though she possessed 
 so much ; for that she had no more 
 body, than what barely served as a 
 vehicle for her mind ! that she had 
 not an ounce of flesh on her ! that she 
 was meagre and wan ; — and, that all 
 her charms lay in her purse ! The 
 Insipids, taking a part in the debate, 
 tamely replied ; that, as far ^as they 
 saw, she appeared to be rather out of 
 the common; and that many, who 
 were judges, asserted she was a nice 
 woman : however, that the most 
 voices ought to carry it ; and the 
 majority always decided for them. 
 
 A number of nameless personages, 
 now starting up, in turn pro- 
 nounced : — 
 
 One gave a charge ybr, and against ! 
 another, pale with malignity and dis- 
 n5
 
 274 VAGA. 
 
 trust, observed; that " little said, is 
 soonest mended." — More appealed to 
 the auditory, as witnesses of their ten- 
 derness, in passing sentence, and said : 
 — that they would not for the world 
 insinuate any thing without proof, 
 because contrary to law ; but, that 
 thoughts are our own ! — That cir- 
 cumstances were remarkable ; and 
 that in desperate cases, such as 
 ynurder, &c. appearances were looked 
 to, and often proceeded on, as positive 
 evidence! — That fame was busy with 
 Vaga. — That an outcry of tongues re- 
 echoed throughout the city. — That 
 some stated her charity knew no 
 bounds. — That others affirmed she 
 was a mere pretender, — That many 
 more whispered she was a young 
 man ! and, that the received opinion 
 was, that she was a Turk in dis- 
 guise !
 
 VAGA. £75 
 
 Though Vaga endeavoured to con- 
 form herself to the usas^e of the world? 
 she vet contrived neither to violate 
 delicacy nor good sense. Her dress 
 and manners were as they should he : 
 — the former, elegant and appropri- 
 ate ; the latter, fascinating, graceful, 
 and dignified : — and neither, a satire 
 on the freedom of the age. — The young 
 men of ton talked to her, and tried 
 her : they admitted she was a^ charm- 
 ing woman; but no dash — no spirit! 
 However, she was just the thing for a 
 wife : — would do to be thrown aside, 
 when better, or worse, came in the 
 way — And, then, tbat her thousands 
 had power over the hearts of most 
 men, was instanced by daily proposals 
 of marriage with which all the ador- 
 ers in town addressed hen — Nor were 
 all the proposals made to Vaga, con- 
 fined to love, or hymen ; as she had
 
 9.76 VAGA. 
 
 numerous applications from money 
 borrowers, and even from money lend- 
 ers ! — But the good Benigma hovered 
 about her as a protecting guardian ; 
 shielding her from every harm, and 
 continually leading her to do good : 
 and many were the important services 
 rendered by Vaga to the suffering in- 
 digent; who, too proud to beg, lite- 
 rally die the death of necessity, amid 
 all the wantonness of a w-ealthy and 
 luxurious capital, where half the 
 money, that is consumed on superflu- 
 ities, on folly, and on vice, would pre- 
 serve distressed thousands from pe- 
 rishing ! Nor was Vaga's benevolence 
 confined to the distribution of wealth ; 
 for, whensoever occasion required it, 
 she admonished, and exhorted. — One 
 day, hearing a young woman say, that 
 God had bestowed on her every good, 
 but riches; Vaga inquired, Whether
 
 VAGA. 277 
 
 she was virtuous and honest? and 
 being answered in the affirmative — 
 
 " Then," rephed Vaga, '* I cannot 
 say so much for myself; for none 
 can with justice assert they are so, 
 until they have been tried. — See me 
 poor," continued Vaga, " wanting the 
 means to purchase the necessaries of 
 life, and place in my lap a hoard of 
 wealth ; which if I preserve untouched 
 for the owner ; — then am I l^onest. — 
 Show me the chosen object of my 
 heart's love and respect : let him be 
 captivating, almost irresistible; — if I 
 resist that being, then am 1 virtuous." 
 
 Vaga visited the poor, but gene- 
 rally in disguise. She soothed and 
 comforted the unfortunate; and she 
 caressed little children. 
 
 £y # * # # # * orders, a prohibition 
 was enacted, at St. Patrick's Hospital, 
 to the exclusion of all visitors, with*
 
 278 VAGA» 
 
 out a governor's permission ; and it 
 struck Benigma, that this statute was 
 put in force against her. 
 
 " Alas alas ! " said she, " even the 
 last retreat of human misery is sub- 
 ject to the misuse of power ! Hence 
 privation to the sufferer. Hence the 
 voice of comfort is shut out. But, 
 when I am heart-sick, Oh, Vagal on 
 you I repose : for you are my strength 
 and my solace. — Darling of my grate- 
 ful heart, you are about to leave me; 
 and, when wanting you, I shall be de- 
 solate indeed. But you will remem- 
 ber your solitary friend, will you not? 
 — Yes ! Vaga's memory is as good as 
 her heart! — Go, then, child of my 
 adoption and love ! — May Heaven dis- 
 pense with your presence long! And 
 when you take a nobler flight, in ris- 
 ing from the grave to a life of immor- 
 tality, let the bright prospect of end-
 
 VAGA. 279 
 
 less glory reanimate every faculty of 
 your soul !" 
 
 ** Nay, nay/' said Vaga, " we must 
 not part so soon. — Benigma will ac- 
 company the wanderer. Your wisdom 
 shall guide me, and Edwy's courage 
 shall protect me. — We will mix in the 
 busy throng, yet shall we be all to 
 each other. — No society so dear, no 
 converse so delightful, as friendship,, 
 sweetened by love." 
 
 'Tis the province of the malig- 
 nant to interfere with that which does 
 not concern them ; and, though mes- 
 sengers of ill news are always unwel- 
 come, and seldom well received, they 
 find a peculiar gratification in giving 
 circulation to a bad story : and it was 
 on such a good-natured errand a fair 
 lady came, almost out of breath, with 
 a newspaper in her hand : — 
 
 " Madam," said she, " this article
 
 280 VAGA. 
 
 in The Advertiser is levelled at you ; 
 and, with your permission, I'll read the 
 paragraph." 
 
 The volubility of the speaker pre- 
 cluded the possibility of a reply. 
 Vaga could barely edge in a bow, 
 when the lady began : — 
 
 *' Be it known to all whom it may 
 concern, (witches and wizards only 
 excepted,) that a spirit has been seen, 
 in this city, in the shape of a woman! 
 but, as some doubt exists as to the 
 true sex, we are inclined to believe 
 that a jury of matrons must assemble, 
 to decide upon it. 'Tis said, that it 
 has got wings, but that it never flaps 
 them to the annoyance of any. — That 
 the Loves and the Graces, and 
 even an Adonis, sport in its train ! 
 — ^That a lovely youth is perpetu- 
 ally dangling at its side, to the 
 exclusion of the whole male world.^ —
 
 VAGA. 281 
 
 That it seems to be in a thriving way! 
 
 That, though suspected to be 
 
 game, it never gives tongue! — ^Th^t 
 it rides Pegasus all the morning, and 
 is employed in making baby-linen all 
 night. — That some insist it has no 
 head — but a very soft heart. — And, 
 finally, that it hangs out at the sign 
 of the Good Woman, in***^* 
 Street. 
 
 Vaga fainted — and Bcnigma showed 
 the scandalous chronicler the shortest 
 way down stairs : — a trespass, which 
 the offended fair, as she went out, de- 
 clared the law should chastize. 
 
 The insult, thus insidiously cou- 
 ched, fell on Vaga like a thunder- 
 bolt. — Her character was impeached, 
 her purity suspected : and her sense 
 of innocence being insulldcient to 
 combat the blow, she sunk under it, 
 unresisting. — Oh ! the assault was
 
 282 VAGA. 
 
 deadly, and managed in ambuscade ! — 
 That sharp-shooter, Calumny, pierced 
 the heart of its victim ; and the wound 
 woulfl have proved mortal, had it not 
 been for the aid of religion and philo- 
 sophy. — But maternal love and friend- 
 ship did all for Vaga. — In Chili's bosom 
 her sorrows found a balm ; and Be- 
 nigma was a salutary and tender nurse. 
 
 Not so poor Edwy, — the unhappy, 
 but innocent cause, through whose 
 side the dart had been pointed at 
 Vaga. 
 
 *' Has my grateful love," said he, 
 " blasted the reputation that it would 
 rather save? — Oh, Vaga! the remedy 
 for you is in my hand. — The past I 
 shall always regard as a delightful 
 dream : — but, I'm roused — and shall 
 build your future fame on the ruins 
 of my peace. — Self-love, by robbing 
 you, would doubly take from me : and
 
 VAGA. ^SS 
 
 Vaga deprived of an honorable repu- 
 tation, I should be poor indeed ! — 
 Virtue can seal up the lips of malevo- 
 lence, and look away all that's mali- 
 cious : and I shall exert this power ! 
 The * choice of Hercules' henceforth 
 be mine : and the goddess, no doubt, 
 will assist and direct me, as she did 
 her immortal disciple, in the research 
 of true happiness and honour." 
 
 This train of thought absorbing 
 Edwy's mind, though he had entered 
 the Commercial Coffee-room for the 
 purpose of reading the news of the 
 day, he sat down at one of the tables, 
 and resting his head on his hand, 
 appeared there without any apparent 
 object. 
 
 There were a number of persons 
 assembled, and politics were the ge- 
 neral pursuit. 
 
 " The little Corsican is friendly to 
 England at last," said one.
 
 !284 VAGA. 
 
 *' I hope the peace will be perma- 
 nent," cried another. 
 
 *' That is, as hereafter may happen," 
 interposed a third. 
 
 ** Buonaparte is the devil ! " said a 
 fourth. 
 
 *' The devil is not blacker than 
 he's painted !" cried a fifth. 
 
 " Call him a spirit!" interrupted a 
 sixth. 
 
 ** Nay, nay," interposed a number 
 of voices ; *^ a caveat against that ; for 
 the spirit is vvith us : — The Advertiser, 
 to witness." 
 
 An elderly gentleman, hitherto lis- 
 tening attentively, now sighed so 
 deeply, that the tone of sensibility 
 struck Edwy with a sensation which 
 much impressed him. 
 
 ** Is it still in town?" inquired a 
 fop, adjusting his cravat before a 
 looking-glass, in front of the chimney- 
 piece.
 
 VAOA. 28^ 
 
 '* Lord ! sir," replied an officer, 
 
 rising, and parading the floor, — *^ have 
 
 you lived so much out of the world, 
 
 as not to know the charming Vaga? 
 
 —Fascinating, delightful creature ! — 
 
 Usually go my morning rounds at 
 
 half past four p. m. — met her on the 
 
 promenade at the square ; — dropped 
 
 my sword, and gave her the general 
 
 salute. — However, Adonis brought up 
 
 his right shoulder, and VenuS retired 
 
 with her favourite : — a mere chip-in- 
 
 pottage of a fellow ! But what need 
 
 I wonder ; since the Union, the want 
 
 o^ beaux in the country, has qualified 
 
 the ladies not a little. — Rather than 
 
 not have some one dancing attendance 
 
 on a public walk, a belle will suffer 
 
 even a dummy to Philander her : for 
 
 instance, who in such demand with 
 
 the Dublin ladies, for a time, as * Tom 
 
 Thumb?' a little, well behaved man.
 
 ^86 VAGA. 
 
 who held his tongue, and made love 
 on his fingers/' 
 
 " Ay!" replied the fop; " I re- 
 
 memher but, speak low, Don't you 
 
 see the Adonis, yonder, measuring you 
 with his eyes from head to foot?" 
 
 " What!" called out the officer, 
 (looking angrily at Edwy), *' Have we 
 got tailors among us? — I never permit 
 any one to measure me but my tailor." 
 Edwy, no longer able to command 
 his mdignation, walking fiercely up to 
 the officer, said : 
 
 ** As to your impertinent question, 
 I shall not take the trouble to answer 
 it : but I make no scruple to tell you, 
 that there is a scoundrel in the present 
 company ! a wanton defamer of female 
 innocence, who shall swallow his 
 words, or with our blood we must 
 wash out the injury !" 
 
 The officer seized Edwy's arm : —
 
 VAGA. 287 
 
 " Do you mean me?" said he; his 
 voice half-choaked with passion. 
 
 " If you are not uncommonly dull 
 of apprehension," replied Edwy, firm- 
 ly, " my meaning is not very difficult 
 to be understood." 
 
 Some of the gentlemen now inter- 
 fered, 
 
 " Captain!" said the fop, seconded 
 by one or two more; " surely you 
 cannot think of meeting a person, 
 without first being satisfied that he 
 has been born a gentleman?" 
 
 " I stake my respectability that he 
 is a gentleman !" replied the elderly 
 man whose sighing had attracted 
 Edwy, now coming forward : and his 
 voice silencing all present, the officer 
 put into Edwy's hand his card — call- 
 ing out aloud, as he marched off — 
 
 " Should you have any commands 
 for me, this ticket will inform you 
 where I am to be found."
 
 288 VAGA. 
 
 Edwy, broiling with rage, was 
 about to retire ; but, casting his eyes 
 round, in search of the venerable 
 stranger, who had so kindly interposed 
 for him ; he perceived him at his side, 
 and gratefully tendered his acknow- 
 ledgements. 
 
 " Come ! " said the old gentleman, 
 taking hold of Edwy's arm, and hurr}'^- 
 ing him away; ** you serve under the 
 banner of a lady, and, as her knight- 
 errant, you must v/ith your life defend 
 her.-^Permit me, then, to be the 
 herald of your sentiments to Captain 
 Swaggeraro, the celebrated duellist of 
 the age." 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Printed by J. Moyes, Greville Street, London.
 
 I-
 
 UNIVERSfTY OP ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 3 0112 084216412