ILLINOIS UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPA1GN PRODUCTION NOTE University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign library Brittle Books Project, 2014.COPYRIGHT NOTIFICATION In Public Domain. Published prior to 1923. This digital copy was made from the printed version held by the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. It was made in compliance with copyright law. Prepared for the Brittle Books Project, Main Library, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign by Northern Micrographics Brookhaven Bindery La Crosse, Wisconsin 2014 THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY From the oollection of James Collins, Drumcondra, Ireland. Purchased, 1918. 914.15 C166.LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA OB T ALES OF THIS BARRACK ROOM. FIAT JUSTITIA, RUAT CCELTJM. The good old times are gone ; all times when old Are good ! the present might be if they "would ; Great things have been, and are, and greater still Want little of mere mortals, but their will. Age of Bronze.—btron. LONDON: JAMES RIDGWAY AND SONS, PICCADILLY. 1847.£ 8 §>£ CD Q~ co O°\\4,t5 to THE MAN OF ALL PEOPLE!!! DANIEL O'CONNELL, ESQ. MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT, §c. 8{c* $c. Sir, The following sheets have been composed by a feeble but zealous labourer in the vineyard of holy liberty, for the honour of our common country* and the benefit of the oppressed and afflicted people. In looking for a patron to my humble effort, I naturally resorted to the brilliant galaxy of patriots that illumes and adorns not only our realm, but the age we live in. To you, Sir, my view was instantly and exclu- sively attracted—to you, the intrepid champion of the people—to you, the uncorrupt, incorruptible 436174iv DEDICATION. assertor of our just and inalienable rights and liberties. May you be irresistible and successful! May you live long to enjoy the fruits of your glorious struggle, and the blessings of an ever grateful and admiring people ! Permit me to dedicate to your patronage and protection the following pages, as my mite of contribution to the hallowed common cause. CANDIDA. Dublin, Sept. 1834,CONTENTS. Page Preface . . . . . . xi Introduction ..... t xiii To the British People .... xvii THE SOJOURNER IN DUBLIN. A Concise and Interesting Review of a Modern Boarding-house, &c. &c. . . . .1 The Loves of Rose Laban and poor Saul . . 2 Wicked Cupid, or our Good and Useful Clergy; a Fancy Sketch . . . . .6 The Truth and Piety of Nolo Episcopari . . 9 Little Olympus, not a Thousand Miles from the Royal Exchange, Dublin . . . .13 Strictures on the Augustan Age, as surpassed in Re- finement and Civility in our own Times!! .13 Saul's Diary : embracing— A New View of the Present State of Ireland . 14 Remarks of an old wasted Tradesman of the Liberty 15 Definition of a Luxury in Ireland called Point . 15 Tea-table Scandal-mongers in Dublin . . 17 Lady Asgile . . . . . .20 City of Scandal . . . . . 23 Duchess of Rutland . . . . .24 Dilapidation of the Liberty, or an Appeal to the Sym- pathy and Humanity of Englishmen . . 27Vi CONTENTS. Page The Suppression of the Historical Society . . 28 A learned Disquisition on Grammar, by three grown Misses just left School—a Governess and two brisk Widows . . . . . .32 A Dissertation on the Usefulness and Respectability of Teachers . . . . .36 Character of the Kings and Bishops of Yore . 36 The Pernicious EiFects of Biblicism in Ireland . 37 Strictures on the Established Priesthood . . 44 The Titled Aristocracy . . . .46 Hereditary Peerage . . . . .48 Primogeniture . . . . .48 Viceroy over a Lord-Lieutenant . . .51 Duke Racket-, and the Blessings he conferred on the City of Dublin . . . . . .52 Ursa Major—the Mitre-hunter . . .53 The Erection of Ball-alleys in the University of Dublin . . . . . .53 The Irish mock Aristocrat . . . .55 A Scotch Lady's Observations on the Irish Character generally . . . . . .56 Corruption of Languages* . . 59 Further Remarks on Scandal-mongers^ || .60 * Miss Langton's deservedly reputed seminary in Dawson Street (that highly-gifted and accomplished Parisian lady), and others, are honourable exceptions to the quackery of languages. f See Notes, p. 60. |] When the loves of Mr. Fauntleroy, (who was hanged in London for forgery) and his chere amie, were sung in England, they were silenced at once, as an outrage on decency, by an appeal to moral feeling, written by some well-wisher to the cause of society. Certainly, it is creditable to the English Nation, that even one pen was drawn in respect to the feelings of a lawful wife !!CONTENTS. Vii Page Whig and Tory—Nicknames of factious Oppressors of the People . . . . .63 An appropriate Epitaph in a condemned Burying- ground, called Bully's Acre . . .66 Poor Laws . . . . . .67 Nobles on the Continent, contrasted with our own . 70 Happy State of the Peasantry on the Continent . 71 Character of William, King of Holland ; a Model for Kings . . . . . .74 Further Observations on Primogeniture . . 76 Game Laws . . . . . .79 Significant and Magnanimous Intimation of the late King to some of his Nobles, &c. . . .80 Generous Expression of the Marquess of Anglesey concerning the Peasantry of Clare, and his Re- proach to the Gentry of that County . .81 Four Awful and Memorable Instances of Divine Re- tribution to the Enemies of Humanity, and espe- cially those of Ireland . . .82 Malthus and his Impious Doctrine Refuted, or a Su- perabundant Population Impossible . . 88 " The greater the Truth, the greater the Libel," in- sist the Wig-blocks . . .93 Character of the Irish Gentry . . .93 The Forest Law . . . . .96 Sample of an Irish Apostate of the great O'Briens a few generations back . . . .98 Sample of a red wig Milesian Lady of less remote times . . . . . .98 The Loves of Rose Laban and poor Saul resumed, a simple Story . . . . .99Viii CONTENTS. Page THE MODERN PHARISEES, OF THE CITY OF SHIM-SHAM IN IRELAND 117 Mrs. Nobody, late of the Three Goldens; her Pro- fession, Piety, and Charity: a Portrait . .121 The Adventures of Mr. Somebody, (Mr. W * * *, of pious memory) the " Chief of Sinners/' as related by Himself . . . 127 Mrs. Flint, a Character .... 129 The Conflagration of the Book of Terrors, by a Parson . . . . . . 142 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA 151 Motto of Kerry Men . . . . .152 Their Universal Love of Learning, extending even to their Quadrupeds . . . . .153 The Kerry Ladies ..... 154 Northern Redoubts ..... 154 Application of Sir Ralph Abercrombie's observation 157 Allusions to the Case of Captain Wathen . .159 Tyranny and Rapacity of the Titled Classes . 159 Allusions to Augustus Caesar's Premier . .160 The Golden Calf worshipped in the pious Nineteenth Century . . . . . . 161 Qualifications of a Poor Man for Preferment . 161 The Public Service at large .... 162 The People—how treated by the Aristocracy . 162 Conduct of Squireen Redoubts in Quarters . 163 A Ludicrous Scene ..... 165 Commanding Officer and the Big Drummer *. 166 Women and Children turned out of Barracks . 167 The Poor Drum-boy .... 168 The Army an important function . . .170CONTENTS. Kerry Militia stationed in England Kerry Men speaking Irish to the English Magistrates Celebration of Patrick's Day Nature bountiful to Kerry Men Kerry Men's Hospitality and Love of Kindred Peculiarities of the Kerry People accounted for Patronymics and By-Names commonly used by the Kerry People ..... High Origin of the Native Irish The Ancient Use of Patronymics The titled Lord—a Blasphemy Sports, Exercises, and Habits of the Native Irish The Hurling-match described, Fencing, &c. The Cestus or Gauntlet—Boxing a barbarous prac- tice ....... The Irish Language—the Fountain of the Greek, Latin, Spanish, and French Domestic Predilections of the Irish Irish Peculiarities derived from the remotest Anti- quity ...... Augustus Caesar ..... Alexander the Great .... Kissing, a good old Custom—supported by Xeno- phon and other high authorities Maecenas, the Imperial Premier Remote Origin of the Irish proved by their Native Habits and Customs, even at this day A VISIT TO THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY AN ALLEGORICAL TALE A NEW EARTH, A NEW HEAVEN—a Fragment IX Page 171 173 174 176 177 179 181 182 182 183 184 184 186 188 188 189 189 189 189 190 190 195 213 250 IPREFACE. The following lucubrations are the result of a close and anxious observation of the fashionable depravities of the present times : and of a sincere desire, as far as in the author lies, to strip the counterfeit of its tinsel, remove the curtain that screens imperfection, and exhibit folly and vice to public scorn and reproach, in their own scaring deformity. The undertaking, it will be admitted, is as laud- able as necessary: and should it succeed to the desired effect, the cause of religion, morals, and social order, will be consulted and sustained ; the young and inexperienced will be instructed and cautioned ; old sinners deterred or reclaimed ; the mirror held up to nature, virtue shewn her own feature, and vice her own image. The author will have her reward in an approving conscience, and in the gratitude and patronage of the candid, the liberal, and the just. To probe and display the moral character, in a metropolis where open and flagrant delinquency abounds in " the high places," calling aloud forxii PREFACE. castigation arid reform, is ever in its own nature a task of hazard and of difficulty. The ermined par- tizan, the lawn-sleeved tartuffe, the mitred sen- sualist, the biblical matron, and the sly saintly stale maid ; in a word, imposture, hypocrisy, osten- tation, pride and arrogance, all the inseparable satellites of conscious guilt: all the sons and daughters and disciples of guile and corruption— all, all the ungodly host will take the alarm, and the tempest of their mania must be encountered : a risk fraught with terrible results : and to invite and dare it for the good of humanity and the love of country, must argue somewhat of the courage and devotion of a Decius. Yet all burry and briary as the field around us is, all waste and inhospitable as it appears ; still at intervals, few and far between, are to be seen some green and fragrant spots for the weary tra- veller to repose, and relieve his mind with the cheering reflection, that all is not lost,1—that much may be recovered and reclaimed, and that the banner of contamination is not universal. He will be delighted to perceive, in contrast with the vicious and the false, some true ones, rare ones, in the panoply of virtue and integrity, scorn- ing alike the flatteries and frowns of corruption and its votaries.INTRODUCTION. --quod optanti divom promittere nemo Auderet, volvenda dies, en, adtulit ultro ! ! Virgil. 9.. 6. What strange occurrences ! What convulsions and revolutions in the moral frame ! What effects already produced, what ends yet to be accom- plished !! All this fills the mind with astonish- ment and awe. Man thinks it rather the secret working of a supernatural agency, than the result of his own feeble and limited powers. Some observers attribute this procedure in hu- man affairs to the 6C March of Intellectand assuredly the " March of Intellect'' in the Nine- teenth Century exhibits to our view a new order of things—thrones and sceptres crumbled to dust: monarchs and potentates, whom a breath has made, hurled from their lofty eminence and bu- ried in the ruin : obscures and adventurers spring up to rule and sway: the mighty abased, and the humble exalted. We see holy religion made the veil of rapacity and falsehood : hypocrisy and imposture the fashionxiv INTRODUCTION. of the day : bareface d knavery and impiety in every hideous shape, without shame or disguise, daily stalking before us. We see wealth, however wickedly or basely acquired, the object of honour and emulation : and poverty, however inevitable or unmerited, that of abhorrence or scorn : the fairest face with the foulest heart is sure to be respected and courted; while proscription and per- secution await unsullied truth and honesty. But, thank Providence, the tide of evil is now on the ebb, and its agents receiving a just and due castigation from the virtue and detestation of offended humanity. Truth and justice, at length roused from torpor, have taken the alarm. Iniquity is probed to the centre. Spirituals and temporals are in ordeal; and neither lawn sleeves nor er- mined scarlet can longer dazzle the public eye, or hide delinquency or depravity. Also plumes, hel- mets, and gold lace, as well as the gaudy emblems of the other crafts, have lost their meretricious glare ; and all the jackdaws stand forth to public sneer and disdain, in their own proper colours. No longer will respect and veneration be prosti- tuted on the sanctity and piety of a four-in-hand bishop, or on the apostolic meekness of a croziered usurer, or the honour and generosity of a gold-laced Falstaff. Neither on the vain anti-national spoiled child of fortune, nor on mushroom Peers, who bartered their country, and rose as they rotted inINTRODUCTION. XV the negociation—the Judas Hamilcars, who under the false pretence of a glorious deed, desecrated the pious memory of an immortal patriot, while auctioneering themselves and selling Ireland..... Nor shall the public any longer be deceived, nor holy religion scandalized by the double-hooded hypocrite, whose foul hands sully the Gospel on Sunday, and for the remainder of the week prowls about with artillery in his front, shedding the blood and spoliating the property of his fellow- creatures. These abominations are fast approaching their limit. Justice and reason are assuming their em- pire. The majesty of the people will no longer submit to the tyranny and plunder of the profli- gate few. The film that hitherto obstructed their vision is removed ; they see their rights, and will assert them. The people, 44 the true source of power," who give, will take away. The people, who create and produce, will chasten, regulate, and narrowly watch; and those they vest with authority for the good of all, must no longer with impunity abuse it. What glorious events! What golden hopes! A new era is dawning. A new order of things arising— Magnus ab integro seclorum nascitur ordo ! There is, however, one stain, one hideous eye- sore on the fair face of the incipient Amora ; theXVI INTRODUCTION Russian monster, the butcher of the brave Poles, the arch-enemy of man, who aims to over-run Europe with his savage hordes; of which it be- hoves those who have hitherto looked on with apathy; to take warning. Aye, those whose con- duct at home seemed rather to co-operate with the sanguinary tyrant, than to sympathise with his hapless victims. Those we warn, it may not be too late— Venienti occurrite morbo !!to THE BRITISH PEOPLE. Dear Brethren, The following sheets are the production of one of your fellow-subjects, for the common benefit of all. That it emanates from the Emerald Isle, it is hoped, will not diminish its merits with you, for it advocates your rights and privileges, as much as those of the all-suffering Irish themselves. It embraces no separate interests ; none exclusive of our beloved and generous fellow-subjects, and fellow-sufferers, the British people. It makes common cause with them—sympathises in their sufferings, and seeks unequivocally and sincerely to associate them with their grateful and affec- tionate fellow-Sufferers and fellow-subjects of Ire- land. It draws a strong line between the suffer-xviii TO THE BRITISH PEOPLE. ing and exhausted of the realm at large, and a iitpacious, devouring, oppressive aristocracy. It defends and advocates the King, and acquits him of all, or any wilful participation, in the inflictions his people suffer. These are the lead- ing features and principles of the work; as such, we look with confidence to the protection of those for whose perusal it is offered,-the united British People. THE AUTHOR. Dublin, Sept. 1834.THE SOJOURNER IN DUBLIN.THE SOJOURNER IN DUBLIN. Nemo me impune cocesset.— Horace. O how nice is the texture ! how fragile the frame Of that delicate blossom, a female's fair Fame ; 'Tis the sensitive plant, it recoils from the breath, And shrinks from the touch, as if pregnant with death. Washington Irvine. In the summer of 1833, a personage, whom we shall style the Silent Observer, paid his first visit to the Irish Metropolis. He took lodgings at a boarding house, crowded with numerous inmates, of various tastes, habits, and conditions: retired matrons, ancient maidens, stale virgins, sighing vestals, crossed lovers, old bachelors, half pays, full pays, saints, sinners, and swadlers. In this exquisite Coterie was discussed, at least three times a day, every passing occurrence, whether public or private; high or low; one of their standing rules was, to speak ill of all; to introduce none b2 THE SOJOURNER but objects of censure ; and however they may differ in most other respects, they all cordially agreed on this point. Accordingly, every whisper, rumour, hearsay, or report; every little lapse, accident, mishap, misfortune, misadventure and mistake, were sought, gleaned, and collected with the most laudable industry : each had his portion of the precious contribution assigned him, as taste and temper directed : and when all assembled, at the general rendezvous of breakfast, dinner and tea, the whole stock was exhibited, and men and measures, with all their faults and failings, were discussed, dissected, andlacerated, without remorse or mercy. The Silent Observer was a young Englishman of independent fortune, liberal education, polished manners, and prepossessing appearance. He had a peculiarity of habits, that appeared to be acci- dental, and by no means natural to him. Taciturn, solitary, thoughtful; he spoke little, and in that little was singularly laconic and significant; seldom laughed, and never without evincing, that some secret sorrow and melancholy preyed on him. To be brief, he was the son of a rich trader in London, and at an early age, being of a warm and generous temperament, and susceptible of the finer emotions, he irrevocably fixed his affections on a fair young Jewess, the quintessence of beauty and charm, named Rose Laban, whose all captivating attrac-IN DUBLIN. 3 tions acquired her, from the universal Jewish host, the peculiar appellation of the Rose of Sharon. To love, then, is a painful thrill, And not to love more painful still ; But sure it is the worst of pain To love and not be loved again. Moore. Our love-lorn devoted Observer had not this fate to lament ; if he loved, he was loved again : the mutual flame burned bright in Rose's generous bosom, and gave redoubled force and fury to the fire that consumed her lover. But that was all! Saul was a professing Christian, and his creed formed an insurmountable bar to their union. This had the natural effect, on the ever constant, ever loving, and all-lovely Rose ; Cupid and the High Priest fighting for so sweet a prey: her delicate frame could not long sustain the conflict within her, she drooped and pined, and declined so rapidly, it was thought she could not much longer resist the force of her sufferings, and her father resolved secretly to remove her to some distant place, where her sensibilities might be less excited: and a change of scene and objects may chance to soothe and divert her love-sick imagination : this was done so suddenly and so secretly, it was supposed she had died ! The report spread, and was generally believed, The Jews, highly pleased at the fate of an Apostate, as they considered Rose, were not slow in giving it the widest circulation, and4 THE SOJOURNER Saul on hearing it resigned himself to grief and despair.....The lot of poor Saul was now miserable, all that was dearer to him than his own dear self was now gone. His heart and soul, as if buried in the same tomb with his Rose, completely deserted him ; the world to him was a blank without her. She was his theme by day, his dream by night, and her memory was ever hovering round his imagination. Thousands around him, he was alone. In the gay merry circle, he was absorbed in silence and in sorrow. Oft in a sweetly plaintive tone, while the big round tear, trickled down his pallid cheek, and the sigh and broken accents spoke his inward agony, was he heard involuntarily to exclaim—" Rose, Rose i Where are you ? Why have you deserted me ? Alas! Alas ! why am I permitted to survive you ? What have I done to merit this infliction ? O Rose! Rose ! My moss Rose, my Rose-bud : so sweet, so fragrant, so delicious to the sight and touch ! What will become of me ? A mere moving death alive : reft of sensibility : indifferent to all that passes around me. You, my first, my early love, have deserted me; my dearest affections are with you: hold them, cherish them in the tomb, till we meet again inseparable, in another and better world; yes, sweet Rose, we shall meet in heaven; which to me, would not be a heaven without you." Such being this unfortunate lover's ejaculations,IN DUBLIN. and apostrophes to his ever loved Rose ; it cannot be supposed he could ever think of another woman. Such were the lamentable sufferings of poor Saul: all for love ! Need we bespeak the reader's sym- pathy, the hero's pity, and the virgin's tear 1 Love was the cause of all his woe! Aye, Love, little Cupid, the absolute monarch of the loves and cupidities—that remorseless tyrant, that like death levels all distinction ; spares neither age, sex, nor condition: whose sole delight is in broken and burning hearts, and the consequent hangings, drownings, poisons, precipitations; and the less fatal little aberrations of his hapless victims. He it was, that through the bright eyes of Rose, shot a golden dart into the soft heart of poor Saul. Even gods and goddesses have to curse him; he has often exposed them in very awkward posi- tions, and wickedly laughed at the mischief he had done. Mars and Venus will never forgive him; on them he has brought eternal scandal. To this day, they are the table-talk of Olympus: not a sup of nectar, or bit of ambrosia is swallowed in that high place, without some ill-natured allu- sion to that mal-adventure. There may be no truth in it; but the merry gods laugh heartily, while poor Mars and Venus stoop their heads to hide their blushes. This is too bad, but the wick- ed wight Love, the arch-enemy of the peace of man and woman, is the root and spring of all.6 THE SOJOURNER In charity we warn our tender susceptible readers to be on their guard ; he is daily on the walk, thirsting for prey, and seeking whom he may devour. It may not be amiss to describe him to the innocent and unwary, the better to repel his invidious approaches. Be it known, then, to all the sons of Adam, and daughters of Eve, that he is a smart, dapper, squint-eyed, arch, leering, playful little urchin; a sly, wanton, obtrusive slee- veen,# who, with familiarity and impudence pecu- liarly his own, enters every house, every company, from the palace to the cottage. He waives all etiquette and civility, be the company ever so re- fined or select, he bolts in, without even the po- liteness of Paul Pry, to " hope he don't intrude." He then practises his gambols without remorse or reserve, on lords gay and ladies bright, and hav- ing feasted his malignity, he wings his flight away, leaving them, however pure and spotless before, ever after the town talk. He carries a bow, and arrows of gold and lead, which he shoots indiscri- minately and capriciously. When intent on sheer wickedness to the human race, he discharges one of each at his victims. With the gold he instantly sets one heart in conflagration, the lead petrifies "the other to ice or flint, the one burns with love, the other mortally hates ; this is the confection of * Sleeveen, a sly slippery little deceiver.IN DUBLIN, 7 cruelty, but the wretch knows no mercy. Poor Apollo and Daphne are miserable instances ; he blazed like Etna, she was frozen as the Poles ; he pursued, she fled ; she for safety, he for her. He wooed and loved, and prayed her to stay, vow- ing to God, he did not mean to tear her or eat her ; all in vain, while bone and sinew lasted, she sped her flight, like the light wind before him. The whole day, like hound and hare, they coursed Parnassus, till at length poor Daphne quite ex- hausted and terrified, dropped, expired, and was seen no more!! But on the spot, to his utter amazement, a laurel instantly sprung up, trunk, boughs, and foliage, rich, luxuriant evergreen ; from this he plucked a sprig, yet warm, trembling, and recoiling, as if dreading his touch; he carries it still about him, in remembrance of her, and to this day the laurel is borne as the emblem of glory, we know not wherefore, by our heroes of hundred battles. Gentle reader, marvel not at all this, for every amour has its wonders, and wicked Cupid is the cause of all. This elf is no Christian; he has no religion, nor regard for the peace of even our pious and useful clergy; for, he most irreverently strides a mitre, when vacant, as it too often is, and from that holy pin- nacle fires a golden shaft into the heart of some pious, modest, unassuming parson, who thenceforth blazes with all the cupidities, and pursues the scent8 the sojourner of this unlucky mitre, with as keen a gout till he secures it, as Apollo did Daphne. How can the meek and humble divine help it? He is a mortal. The divinity of the desires stirs within him, and he is unable to resist such a power. Will any one now doubt the truth and sincerity of nolo episco- pari ? # Indeed, it would make heart of oak bleed and melt to witness the throbs and throes, and struggles of the poor man, when dragged by force, and against his will, an innocent victim, to be immolated under a mitre, and alLhis life after consigned to the toil and bondage of a princely palace, splendid retinae, court favour, patronage, dignity, pre-eminence, coach-and-six, four-in- hand, ease, idleness, indulgence, and 50,000Z. a-year. Och—o—ny—O/f it makes one ache, to see a pious pastor of the people, a meek and godly follower of Peter and the Apostles, against his will, in a free country, pulled and hauled, as if to the watch-house, while he, poor victim! writhes and kicks, cries aloud for mercy and for- bearance, lustily shouting nolo episcopari ! All in vain; he is overpowered, and must yield. Poor sufferer! any one who has even the heart of a pinkeen would pity him. In the abundance of * Nolo episcopari, I won't be a bishop, or I will not be bishoped! t Ochon the Irish ejaculation of grief. Och, o, ny, o, is a more significant expression of woe, as it certainly ought to be in the melan- choly case of the parsons.IN DUBLIN. 9 Bur charity, we excuse him, he is innocent; it was all the work of the wily one, that wicked Cupid, who bewildered the seven senses of our friend Saul, and tore, and burned, and eat up the heart of sweet Rose. It was, we boldly repeat, Cupid that inspired the cupidities of the pious cleric, supplied the vis a tergothat wrorked on his rear, and thrust him forward might and main, into a situation he so much abhorred. Now, we have solved an enigma that baffled the world for ten thousand years; we have clearly reconciled what ignorance hitherto called a glaring inconsistency. From this moment let sceptics cease to doubt the truth and piety of nolo episeopari! and let not dogmatism dare any longer to insist that it is sheer duplicity, hypocrisy, and a bare-faced lie before God and man. No, but saddle the blame where it is justly due, on that arch wag Cupid, whose career of mischief never slumbers nor sleeps. The poor country rector is not less to be pitied than the hapless bishop, for Cupid on quitting the mitre, straddles himself on the back of a tithe- pig, a hay or corn stack, hen, egg, flock of sheep, fruit tree, every thing; and then fires away, right, left, and all round ; and kindles in the susceptible hearts of the pious, charitable, humane reverends within his range, a most incorrigible penchant, for all those good tithings ; not forgetting the widow's * Vis a tergo, a force at the back, or in the rear, B 210 THE SOJOURNER blanket, or the iron pot, while boiling a few potatoes for her starving children. Wicked Cupid persuades the poor cleric, that the widow's poor pot and blanket, are good things; but the cruel wretch never inspires him with an inclina- tion, for the tenth of the ragged, hungry, helpless orphans. Indeed, Cupid tempts every one, spoils and corrupts all he assails, and puts them out of their propriety. Are the parsons, poor souls, to blame, whom he seems to have selected, as objects of his inveterate malignity. For these five years back has he most cupidinously treated them, firing his gold and lead at them, and their flocks ; tearing and racking this unfortunate country, with an in- fernal civil war ; and stamping eternal scandal on the sacred ministry. This is not all: he is so sordid a creature that in the Isle of Man, it is said, he is not ashamed to take his stand on a herring- cask ; and from that sweet redoubt, fires a shaft, at the high minded, unsuspecting dignitary, who is instantly on fire with love of the tithe herring. The exemplary divine flings away bibles, sermons, and all; and impelled by some hidden force, he cannot account for, rushes to the shore ; and with those smooth fair hands, employed but a moment before, in writing tracts, and exhortations to charity, modesty, hnmanity, and self denial, he picks and chooses, before the poor shivering fish-IN DUBLIN. 11 ermttn dares a touch at one for his breakfast, and triumphantly carries off the captive sea-beasts in gavalls, alias, arms-full; while Cupid is seen in his rear, with bow strung, and arrow aimed, ready to shoot him if he flinched. Thus have we proved to demonstration, to every thinking man, woman, and child, that the poor parsons are not free agents, and that reluctantly, and in very spite of them, they every year possess themselves of a tenth of our comforts; and every tenth year, at a fell swoop take all; and leave us not a bit, or sup, or shred to cover us. The parsons are not to blame ; we repeat, Cupid is the cause of all. This unlucky Cupid is so forward and obtrusive, that to every ball and supper he makes his way unsought,- unbidden. If a lady and gentleman sit by each other, be they ever so close, he edges himself in between them ; takes his place perhaps on the lady's lap; plays with one hand over her locket, ringlets, frill or necklace ; while with the other, he paws the braids, festoons, and even the gold lace of the gentleman; sometimes he pulls or tickles his powdered whiskers; and often puts his fingers in the eyes of both. Nothing on either side escapes him. In the merry dance, on the light fantastic toe, he is sure to be between the legs of the partners, tripping and confounding them: they stumble, stand amazed, and totally12 THE SOJOURNER forget the poetry of sound and motion. Every squeeze of the hand, however soft and sudden ; every sigh, sob, side-glance, or ogle, feels his in- terruption. A whisper, or tete-a-tete, however innocent the parties, or private or remote the corner, he must take part. At churches, meet- ings, and conventicles, in the sacred hour of medi- tation and prayer! the elf is seen armed cap-a-pee, flitting through pews and galleries, firing awayy shooting all around him, and disturbing the pious emotions of the devout; not sparing the holy pulpit, nor the meek, sleek, sly preacher; who stands there, pious soul I exposed to the general gaze, frizzed, and scented, picked and scalded ; as the best of our exquisites; mechanically preaching from his lips, the charities and virtues, which his heart does not feel ; while at every monosyllable, he casts his ogles about for admiration ; with the vanity and eagernes of a Miss in her teens. This, we emphatically say, is the work of Cupid ; there is no trusting him, his perfidy is pace a pace, with his other ill doings; such a reckless tell-tale, that he is the first to divulge to a censorious world, the secrets he has elicited, and the confidence the innocent repose in him. We have given sad and sore instances. Earth and Olympus, Gods and Goddesses :— Nymphs, and sylphs, and naiads of fountains, Demigods of groves and mountains.IN DUBLIN. 13 It is even said that he does not respect our own sweet chaste little Olympus, not a thousand miles from the Exchange : but makes it a favourite arena of his pranks, his prate, and his scandal; shooting indiscriminately, and cracking reputa- tions as fast as heart-strings. We therefore ad- monish the chamberlain, at every future issue of cards for balls and suppers; to insert in each, a special interdict, under pain and penalty on the admission of this shameless intruder ; and to com- mand the whole posse of the garrison, constables, bailiffs, police and all; to guard every avenue, gate, and entrance, in complete armour; and give their best aid and assistance in excluding him, inasmuch as he is a most dangerous guest in genteel company. In short, his sins since the beginning of the world .are countless as the sand, and red as scarlet, for he holds no place safe or sacred. Mr. Moore tells us in his angelic essay on the loves of saints and angels, that to crown the climax of assurance, this busy body dares to practise his tricks even on cherubim, and sera- phim ; and our matchless bard, it will be allowed, is not bad authority on such subjects. Also the prince of Roman Poets, the author of the immortal Georgic, speaks of the tremendous battles of horned cattle, for some coy careless fair one of the tribe. In this, as in many other respects, it is the glory of our time to surpass the14 THE SOJOURNER Augustan age, in refinement and eivility. For our horned cattle, on such occasions, scorn the savage conflict of the field; and, like good citizens, and amenable subjects, more frequently decide in our courts of justice, under the sanction of ermine, black gowns, and wig-blocks. We now turn to our friend Saul, having con- soled him, all in our power, for his sufferings. We have abused and exposed his arch enemy, the author of all his woes. The reader will be glad to hear that our hero is much recovered : he is become more cheerful; more affable and social; yet, still very reserved : he joins the com- pany regularly at breakfast; afterwards takes a walk or ride through town, or the suburbs; and keeps a regular diary of all his occurrences; especially those that concern the State and Go- vernment, of what he habitually calls u this fine country." SAUL'S DIARY.-FIRST DAY. Breakfasted at 9—the ladies—as many dishes of scandal as of tea: at 11 went to the coffee- house ; read the news—at 12 strolled through town—met an old wasted tradesman of the Liberty ; asked him generally about the state of this country : he replied nearly as follows :—IN DUBLttf♦ 15 "We Irish are, indeed, a crushed, impoverished and wretched people, blotted out of the scale of nations: without map or name—a mere blank: hewers of wood and drawers of water. We besides are cramped and plundered, libelled and vili- fied. We are left nothing to do, and we are called idlers; we are left nothing to mind, and we are called indolent and careless. Every trading tra- ducer who can handle a pen, is hired and cherished for defaming us. Every thing is done to vex, harass, and overbear us. Nothing to encourage or conciliate. Under the false guise of economy and retrenchment, all our means are wrested from us. We are plundered and spoliated, and this is considered good enough for us. We bravely and devotedly fight the battles of England. The blood and valour of Irishmen support 5-6ths of her throne, her dynasty at home and abroad. Our raw material employs her people—our produce feeds her population a third of the year ! What is the return? Infliction, oppression, privation, and want of the bare necessaries of life. A dry potatoe and salt is the luxury of half of our unfortunate population; potatoes and point, that of the re- mainder." " What is point ?" said I; " Never did I hear of such a luxury." He replied: "Point,Sir, is the head of a herring, placed before a family at which each poin ts his dry potatoe (but never touches) as his only relish and comfort." " O Lord !" said16 THE SOJOURNER I, strange, indeed, and incredible !!" " From this," continued he, u result the plague, pestilence, and famine, that periodically sweep away my- riads of the Irish people, who are seen by hundreds dying in ditches, with grass and weeds in their mouths, caught up at the last convulsive gasp of expiring animation." " Awful!" said I, "in a free country, boasting of a glorious constitution, the envy of surrounding nations, and the admiration of the world!!" " What glorious constitution V9 said he, u I could never understand it, nor meet any one to explain it to me ; but, turning the thing in my own mind, I concluded that it is no more than a nonentity in Ireland, a hyperbole in Eng- land, and a mere fable all over the rest of the world!!" At these words, recollecting I had an appoint- ment, I looked at my watch, saw the hour was at hand ; and having given my old friend a crown to regale himself, I appointed to meet him at the same time and place next day. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ Dined at 5—dinner solid—what is called in Ireland " cut and come again!"—knives, forks, and plates clattering like crowbars in a quarry— powerful mastication. As the last comer, it was my lot to sit $t the lower end of the table, wedged in between a ma-—IN DUBLIN. 17 and her pet—an overgrown ill-mannered bump- kin ! of fifteen or sixteen, who elbowed incessantly right and left, while cutting and eating, with laudable voracity; he spattered me with his sauce—and upset the wine and beer before me. # # # # # # # Answered the curiosity of the ladies in mono- syllables—viz. "Was I from England?"—" Yes." —" Would I remain in Dublin V9—" No !"— —drank the landlady's health—a snubby, elderly, pock-picked little bundle, with a phiz blooming with carbuncles; and when the cloth was re- moved, choosing my company—retired to my own room. # K # * # # # # Summoned to tea by the ringing of a bell—took my seat in a corner, near the tea-table—several female voices, jarring on the ear, nearly stunned me. " Ladies! ladies !" exclaimed an old gentleman with a severe cynical aspect—" one at a time if you please—Lord, what a rookery!!" A short pause ensued, when a lady in a great pout at having been interrupted, turned upon the last speaker. " Good sir!" said she, drawing herself up very stately, " we were only mentioning one instance of the amiable weakness of the sexes; an innocent elopement which took place yesterday morning,18 THE SOJOURNER between a young lady of rank and her dandy music-master, both of this city." " Madam," replied the old gentleman, in a very caustic manner, " I hate propagating scandal; there may be no truth in the report; but suppose the thing has occurred, the family ought rather to be pitied for a misfortune than censured for a fault. Pray Goody, look nearer; charity, it is said, begins at home; make the case your own; how, I ask, would you like a blow-up V9 At this the lady got into a glorious fusty fume, bristled up like the quills on the fretful porcupine, cocked her gills, and perching herself on the centre gra- vity, she raised her voice in alt, and exclaimed,— " Sir, explain those insinuations; do you mean them as side-shafts at my virtue 1 I would have you know, sir, I am a pattern to womankind. I was above forty years a virgin, before I deigned a look of kindness at one of your sex. 1 then mar- ried, and after a few honeymoons, buried my poor man decently, he rests in his mother clay, thank God! and I am ever since spotless as the sun. Will you, sir, venture to contradict that?" " No, indeed," said the gentleman, assuming an arch sneer, " I believe it all, for the fortress that is not assailed, they say, is likely to last the longest, and verily he should be a man of great courage and self-denial, that would attempt to storm your gar- rison; in my mind, madam, you would do forIN DUBLIN. 19 some repentant sinner, now desirous to atone for former little strayings, by a future mortification of the flesh." This was too much. The lady, as if electrified, started from her chair—" Fire and fury," said she, " is this to be borne? I tell you, Mr. Sour Crout, you are not fit for the company of ladies, I'll stay no longer where you are; I'd rather sit in a wilderness than in your presence ?" Exit in a rage ! " But, sir," observed a delicate respectable look- ing lady, who all the while sat silent, and heard what passed. " But, sir,'7 said she, " you are in- deed too severe; you are an overweening advocate in this case, and don't take a right view of the subject. We pity, as much as you, the inevitable or unforeseen misfortunes of families; but when they are themselves directly and wilfully instru- mental, they deserve not a breath of pity. For my part," said she, " I would be glad such elope- ments took place ten times a day; the sooner to cure families of the mania of having tall strapping music-masters, dancing-masters, and such other Lotharios, in daily t6te-a-tete, in a private apart- ment with their soft young daughters, while many an accomplished respectable female, who would be a more suitable teacher and companion, is left without support or protection. Indeed, I repeat it, I do not pity any family who thus suffer in their honour by their own act and deed." " I cor-20 THJS SOJOURNER dially agree with you, madam," said the gentle- man. " They say, indeed," said the lady, "very queer things about the matter." " But," rejoined the old gentleman, " They say, is bad authority for scandalous reports." 461 beg your pardon," inter- rupted a bilious Governess, with particular em- phasis, laying by her netting and sipping her tea ; the expression ' they say!9 comes under the plural article in ourlanguage, and if I mistake not, means many, that is to say, more than one ; however, it may be understood in an extensive sense, and according to a common observation, what every body says, must be true." " Admirable logician," said the old gentleman, " you brandish induction famously. 1 regret the mistake that made you for petticoats, instead of many a numscull who wears breeches." "Breeches!" exclaimed an old maid sitting at the window, "breeches ! fie, sir, unmentionables if you please, before ladies." At this reproof of mo- desty, the old gentleman shrugged and smiled, and regaled his olfactories; I also took a pinch. " In the name of wonder!" cried the pock-picked landlady, (who relished a scandalous story migh- tily,) now addressing herself, as she filled out tea, to the bilious Governess, " What has become of the dashing Lady Asgile, who used to ride about our streets on horseback, and kindle the paving-stonesIN DUBLIN. 21 with her prancing charger ? Many a time and oft, I saw her capering in College Green, dressed in a flaming scarlet habit, ornamented with a pair of beautiful gold epaulettes, and usually escorted —not by the General, her husband—but by his handsome young aid-de-camp! a gallant gay Lo- thario—as the saying is." " I bar defamation!" said an invalid Major—a gentleman rather advanced in life—who was re- clining on a sofa, now addressing himself to the company generally. He raised himself in an up- right position, and repeated, "I bar defamation, even at the tea-table! and take upon me to assert the purity of the exalted female character in ques- tion, namely, the late amiable and regretted Lady Asgile, whose memory it is but justice to defend. * We are sorry to say, that even the high rank of this deeply regret- ted and excellent Lady, was not respected by tea-table scandal-mongers in Dublin. But, it only illustrates the lines of the poet, that " Malice takes a lofty mark" However, be it remembered, in the language of another eminent writer, " The shaft fixes harmless, when it is undeserved." Who that knew Lady Asgile, but respected, esteemed, and admired her ? She was the light and life of the social circle in which she moved : she was beloved by her husband, venerated by her friends, and revered by her dependants. The writer was honoured with her friendship many years, and could testify her worth. But, she is gone to her reward— the reward of a true Christian ! And her deeds of peace, benevolence, and pure unostentatious charity, follow her beyond the tomb, into those bright realms of happy rest, where the vicious and the false can never enter.22 THE SOJOURNER He contiuued : u I was on regimental duty in this garrison, when that Lady's husband, General Sir Charles Asgile, Bart, commanded here, and I re- member well that certain whispers, respecting a certain General's Lady, and a handsome youth, her husband's aid-de-camp, did reach rne, as set afloat by the petty detractors, idlers, and star- gazers in this scandal-loving city! However, calum- ny proceeding from such a source, made but little impression on my mind ; and when I had the honour of paying my respects to Lady Asgile, (being an old acquaintance of the family,) she re- ceived me with her usual urbanity and sweetness, mentioning among other things, that she had been in a declining state of health for some time, and had been ordered the exercise of riding on horseback—adding, that when the General her husband, could not himself attend upon her, his aid-de-camp usually did, namely, Captain *****, her sister's son : the identical young oflicer, whose attentions to her Ladyship, had been miscon- strued, and ascribed to gallantry! by the dragons of virtue in Dnblin.# The injured Lady, however, quitted the Irish metropolis in disgust; and it is thus, generally speaking, that scandal-mongers chase out of this sinking capital, all persons of worth and rank, who might otherwise support and adorn it." The speaker paused a moment, * No fancy sketch.in dublin. 23 but the company stood, one and all, as mute as milestones. " But," resumed he, " in Dublin, which the witty Lord Townsend erst denominated the ' City of Scandal !' none are spared, now or ever.......I adduce the parting words of the beautiful, fascinating, and amiable Duchess of Rutland, the paragon of all charm : a representa- tive of majesty in this metropolis ; and certainly one of its most liberal and generous benefactors.— —fi I leave Ireland,' said her Grace, wiping her tearful eyes, when standing on the beach, ready to embark : ' I leave Ireland,' repeated she, em- phatically, ' with a breaking heart, for I have lost in it, what should be most dear to me, my husband, and my character.' (This parting scene is recorded by the justly celebrated Sir Jonah Bar^ rington.) "It is notorious," added the Major, with reviv- ing energy, 64 that this pathetic lament took place somehalf a century ago; nevertheless, Scandal in Dublin is still the same: in the course of time, it has only changed its objects! We need only refer to the fair and virtuous noble lady, the daughter of a Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, very lately traduced in this city, when on her bridal day, a maiden's purity furnished a subject of defa- mation even to the public papers." # # # # # #24 THE SOJOURNER The lady who so eagerly hoped for the increase of elopements, and sat silent during this discus- sion, with her usual gravity now observed—that Lady Asgile need not have taken much trouble about the Dublin slanderers. Her reputation was well known, and appreciated by those in her own high circle, wTith whom alone she had a character to lose or to keep. Her traducers were utterly beneath her sphere and rank : they knew her not, and well might she, as I am sure she did, spurn and despise them. From the fulness of the heart the mouth speaks, and the corrupt herd of scandal-mongers speak of others, exactly as they themselves feel and would act, did not the terror of punishment smite them, but the door of im- punity or escape opened, there is no rein to their depravity. As to the noble Duchess—ever amia- ble, but too condescending, it seems to me, her tearful soliloquy was fine food for the malignant. No, ' let the galled jade wince.' A clear con- science, it is said, needs no advocacy, no more than a guilty one an accuser. Eulogy and slander fall off from the virtuous and upright, like dew drops from the lion's mane. As to the ever-green existence of Scandal—the fair sex, or I should rather say, the very unfair sex, are to be thanked for that, as for many other favours to the world. They are the makers, framers, and begetters. They have hatched andIN DUBLIN. 25 nurtured the ugly bantling, and so tenderly cherished it from generation to generation, in their charitable and genial keeping, that old age or infirmity has never affected it: so that at this moment it riots and revels in Dublin, with more strength and malignity than ever. #***##*## DIARY.—SECOND DAY. Rose at 9, and joined the company at break- fast ; lots of acrimony among the ladies; and it is but just to say, that they fought in the wordy strife with all the gall and venom of buck cats: character was savagely mangled by the gentle and . dear creatures. They saw with dragon's eyes the specks on others, while they overlooked or excused the blotches and ulcers that covered themselves. These dragons of virtue now gave full swing to all the bad passions; and set at nought all re- gard to even modesty or common decency. The S—11—y McL-ns and other celebrated courte- sans, were lauded as the sweetest, kindest, most charitable and generous of the fair sex : and those who would venture to find fault, were denounced as fastidious, uncharitable cynics, whom no charm or softness could sooth or mitigate. After a good deal of slander, scandal, calumny, detraction, n26 THE SOJOURNER cursing, swearing, billingsgate ribaldry, and con- tention, among the gentle and polite fair ones; a sudden pause, as if by some mysterious truce or treaty ensued, which was agreeably filled up by a diverting battle about a rival. A gay dashing Collegian, one of the inmates, who had made deep impressions on the soft, sensi- tive heart of a sighing sentimental Governess, was rapturously extolling the charms of an absent fair one, who had completely monopolized to herself his own poor heart. In his raptures he exclaimed, —'" Oh! by Jove! she is an angel to follow!" Here the bile of the Governess swelled and curdled : she shouted, " and a devil to meet." " No, no," said the bewitched beau, " An angel! I say, angel!" " Aye, a fallen angel," rejoined the Governess. " By all that's lovely, bewitching, fascinating, enchanting, divine! she is an angel, a goddess, a divinity! Heaven in her face! In every move- ment majesty and love. I saw her charming, but--" " I insist," said the Governess, " she is no beauty, she has no animation, she squints, has a pug nose, and a mouth from ear to ear; and you, Sir, are a wretch, without taste or sympathy." " All in my eye, and Betty Martin," said the Collegian. "Envy! envy! envy!" 44 Envy, in- deed," retorted the Governess. " Yes," continued he, " envy, hatred, and malice, and all uncharit-IN DUBLIN. 27 idleness. But it will not do; I am doating and dying for her. u How often to love me she fondly liad sworn." 44 Never, never, if she had common taste or sense," said the Governess. He continued, " All hardships for her I wcrald cheerfally bear, And at night---— " Ungrateful monster!" shrieked the Governess, and fainted. At this catastrophe, I remembered I was to meet my old friend. I proceeded to the appointed place. I found him anxiously expecting me. He led me on to a remote and dilapidated part of the town. 44 This, Sir," said he, " is the once famed and happy Liberty; the seat of wealth, manufac- ture, and plenty, where prevailed the bustle of business, the buzz of industry and peace; where the loom and shuttle were busy, trade flourished, every one was employed, all was joy, prosperity, and plenty. Behold the contrast! the lamentable contrast! dilapidated and mouldering habitations, crows nestling in the chimneys, grass and weeds growing in the streets, a famished, squalid, naked population, without employment, without house, home, food or shelter, sinking and dying of hun- ger, and all want."—44 Shocking," said I, -'the soul sickens at this. I must be off my friend; we'll meet again to-morrow, at the same time and place ; take this crown and refresh thyself, fare-28 this sojourner well!" .... Dined at a tavern, did not join the tea-table in the evening. # # # # # diary.—third day. Breakfasted at the coffee house.-—Read the news. Met my Mentor at the appointed time and place, and sauntered through the town with him* " This is Sackville Street," said he. " And before the legislative Union, it was studded, right and left at full length, with the mansions of our nobility, and members of parliament; but now, observe the mighty fallen, these very palaces converted into taverns, infirmaries, asylums, and school- houses. All the houses, you now see with those several designations, were at that period, the abodes of rank, splendour, and nobility; diffusing around them the blessings they enjoyed. Circulating money, and giving courage, vigour and life, to arts, science, and manufacture. Every enterprize was cherished by fair play, remuneration, and a sphere of action. In whatever field, or stage, the labourer was fairly and liberally compensated. Even our now degenerate university then flourished in very truth, the envy of surrounding nations, and the admiration of the world: when the His- torical Society was in the zenith of its glory ; when the divine principles, the fire, eloquence, and patriotism of Locke, Cicero, Demosthenes, andin dublin. 29 Xenophon, were cherished and inculcated ; when a Murray, a Kearney, and a Hall, the ultimus Romanorum, or last of good provosts, were the polar luminaries that guided the destinies of our college; the Irish youth were then congenially and suitably instituted. But at the close of that golden period, poor Alma sighed and sickened; the iron age bounded on her, pedantry, bigotry, faction, and covetous self-seeking invaded her ; she now, in weeds, sits on the ruins of what she held most dear; science and virtue weep near her, the muses and graces in sackcloth and ashes sit arouncl, lamenting that their once sacred temple, the seat of religion and virtue, and of all that tended to expand, liberalize, and illuminate the human mind, is now in ruins before them, sunk and prostrate as Moira-house! * The Guardian Geniuses of trodden and betrayed Alma, do not yet despair, but look to an approaching day of regeneration and retri- bution. They have taken their perch on the top of the hallowed apartment where the Historical Society were wont to meet. Thence congenial ears may hear their incessant ejaculations, apos- trophes, and appeals. 4 O spirits of Murray, Kear- ' ney, and Hall! from your celestial realms look ' down and pity. O bright shades of Grattan, * Curran, Burgh, and Avonmore!! sunk in sorrow, * Moira-house, was once the splendid residence of Lord Moira : it is now the W orkhouse of Mendicity.30 THE SOJOURNER 4 and destitution, we invoke you. You were our 4 pious votaries : our true sons in whom we were 4 well pleased! O you still moving fabrics of 4 ambition, vain glory, duplicity, and earthly 4 corruptions ; you B—sh—s, PI—nk—ts, 4 S—dl—rs, C—r—k—s, F—s—t—s, and 4 D—h—rt—s, Cr—mpt—ns, and B1—ck—rnsy 4 who ten times a day view with Vandal compla^ 4 cency, the ruin and degradation of the cradle of 4 your fame and your glory. You who vociferously ' denounced the enemies of Ireland, while you 4 meretriciously longed for the highest bidder, do 4 shame, remorse, and guilty conscience smite you 1 ' Fitzgibbon, and Castlereagh, we cherish your 4 memory with gratitude for one forbearance ! for * all traitors and assassins of Ireland as you were, 4 you abstained your sacrilegious hands from our 4 hallowed abode; and viewed with reverential awe 4 the temple of the Historical Society; the labora- 4 tory in which we developed r and purified every 4 spring and spark of the young intellect. But it 4 remained for the dire times of an Academic Nero, 6 and his disciples, to perpetrate the impiety that 4 even a Castlereagh and Fitzgibbon shuddered 4 to contemplate. For though these parricides of 4 their native land were covered with crimes of 4 the blackest dye, they were men of learning, 4 and did not forget the veneration due to so sacred 4 and paramount an institution.'IN DUBLIN. 31 " The consummation of learning is to think well, and speak well. To this end the Historical Society was admirably suited: the organs and intellect were polished and prepared in it. The charm that belonged to it — the emulation it created; the honourable ambition it fanned and kindled in the young votaries of Cicero and Demosthenes, and the diligence and devotion to studies and noble pursuits, it had inspired, attracted to it all the virtue, talent, and industry, within the walls of this, now, degenerate Univer- sity ; and was both an segis of protection to the student, and the best security to the parent for the morals, education, and future fame of his child, in a large and dissipated metropolis. Our students had then another incentive—a Gallery appropriated to them, in the Parliament house, to hear the debates, and be fired and delighted with the glowing eloquence of the illustrious men, that then adorned this country. "But the baneful Union has extinguished all our glory, utterly ruined us, encumbers England every day, alienated our affections, and perpetuates an accumulating discontent, distrust, and hatred be- tween the two countries." The tale of misery and desolation having arrived at this period, I remembered I had an engage- ment at Morison's.5* I took leave of my Mentor, * Morison's, a noted Dublin tavern.3*2 THE SOJOURNER 1 in the usual way, appointed to meet next day, and parted : dined—left early, and reached home time enough to hear a learned disquisition on Grammar and Rudiments, between three grown Misses just left school, a Governess now clearing the third decade of annual revolutions, and two brisk widows. There were also a few others, who took little or no part in the subject. "Now," said one of the Misses ; 44 between you and I, the lady, who we met this morning is—" " Fie, fie, Miss," exclaimed the Go- verness! " stop, I pray! bad English, bad grammar? and abundance of it!!" " Pray Miss Teach'em," retorted Miss, 44 softly if you please, know you-; that you shall not have me any longer in leading strings, I am perfect in A. B. C, to my own satis- faction ; and others, good judges, tell me so. As- to your fusty old parts of speech, I never liked them : but I have enough to convince you, I am not deficient, whenever you deserve it • and I warn you to be cautious how you provoke me." "In- deed, Miss Forward," rejoined the Governess^ while the bile burned and hissed in her, like fat in a frying pan, " you have the use of one part of speech, with a witness, a bold and flippant tongue, which is not graceful nor seemly in one of your age and sex." 641 thought I warned you," rejoined Miss—" But," said one of the widows; " child, you should know, that a thorough knowledge of the parts of speech is indispensable that languageIN DUBLIN. 33 cannot be well understood without it, nor men and things duly estimated." "But," observed ano- ther Miss, " a pedantic old wiggy from College, a great favourite of papa's, analyzed and defined them over and over to me ; and I think they are not all of equal value, but that some are of more importance than others." " I am of your opinion, Miss," said the other wi- dow, who hitherto sat silently and demurely lis- tening, " which do you prefer Vy " Why, madam," answered Miss, " I think the verb active, to do, is very efficient." " In my opinion," rejoined the widow, " the verb passive, to be done, is as useful." " It must be so," said the former widow, 46 for every action has its corresponding passion, and where the one exists, the other is inseparable; I assure you, I know by experience, there is a necessary connection between them."—To do! to do!" revolved an overgrown schoolboy, who sat by —" to do amiss, is that handsome ? ladies, 1 pause for a reply." " To do amiss," observed a plump Miss, who had just retired to the window, " to do amiss—why, you shy, sombre creature, there is not so much good in you—to do amiss a bit—what harm—a little innocent merry mischief, so agree- able, even in the best companies—'pon my honour, I would of all things enjoy it!" " Heigh! ho!" said the third Miss, who all the while was appa- rently indifferent, " you seem to have each youy c 234 THE SOJOURNER favourites, but the interjection for me, I think it so very pathetic and significantall assented. 44 What," said a widow, 44 do you, ladies, think of the substantive ?" 44 Its importance cannot be disputed," replied the other, " for it stands by it- self, and can be seen and felt, and always declares its own meaning." 44 Ladies," said the Governess, whose bile was now cooled, " this is a very inte- resting discussion, each of you seems to under- stand the use of her favourite part to a nicety, what do you think of the pronoun ?" 44 I know not," said a widow, 44 what to say of it, I don't much admire it; in my opinion, it is but the shade of a substance, the imaginary for the real, a mere cloak, and I am not in love with apologies." 44 A cloak," observed the other widow, " is often a convenient, pleasant thing, and screens from the censorious eye, what may be otherwise exposed to its malignity; believe me, madam, a cloak is not to be fastidiously thrown by. But as to the sub- ject before us, the pronoun, it is not so trifling ; it may be a substitute, or deputy, or ambassador, a Pope's nuncio, and plenipotentiary, and therefore you will allow, a very important functionary." 44 Admirable conclusion," said the schoolboy, who stood all along at the window, in close confab with one of the boarding Misses ; u admirable!" repeated he; 44 but the pronouns have various uses and affections, personal, possessive, relative,IN DUBLIN. 35 &c. I'll embody them all in one instancethus saying, he springs forward, as if electrified, lays hold on Miss, pressed her to him, and smacked her out of breath, wildly ejaculating, " /, thine, you, mineT and repeated the operation, adding, quid, pro quo. Poor Miss, all the while shouting " Help! help! save me, good people! paws off, monster!!!" She pushed him from her, gave him a violent blow of her glove across the shoulders, and swore 'pon her honour, she'd tell his mamma, and get him a good box on the ears for his impu- dence. At this crisis the carbuncled little land- lady, who had been absent during this part of the scene, re-entered, and having minutely learned the cause and effect, she darted a fiery scowl at the Governess, and said—" You, GroudyTeach'em, are the cause of all; better luck cannot be ex- pected where he and she teachers are present; their learned stuff, which none but themselves understand or care about, is absolutely odious in a free and easy genteel company. I have some- thing more suitable than the dust of books to en- tertain you. I have been this hour past prying with my opera-glass into the door and windows of Mrs.-next door, and rare discoveries have I made."-" But, Madam," observed the Major, who had entered a few minutes before the land- lady, " you have made a severe attack on teach- ers, as you style them, in the person of that re-36 THE SOJOURNER puted accomplished lady, and Mrs. Landlady, give me leave to tell you, I have a far different opinion of that most useful and valuable class. To the endless scandal of the civilized world, their important and paramount services have never been duly appreciated. The teachers, I say, are entitled to respect and protection ; they ought to be venerated second, if at all second, to the priest- hood! Many a man lives usefully, respectably*, and free from suspicion or reproach, without often troubling a clergyman ; but he would be a monster, indeed, a beast in human shape, if the hallowed precepts of the teacher had not reached his ear. God alone best knows what good the clergyman does, but heaven and earth daily wit- ness the sweet and salubrious fruits of the teacher's pious labours. Who produce tlie priesthood, the senate, and all that is great, venerable, and dig- nified on earth ; are not the teachers the pure and perennial source of the sublime and amiable vir- tues that adorn human nature, and endear man to man. What would be the condition of peers, princes, and potentates, had not the teachers pre- pared them for their high destinies ? "Why, man should be constrained to worship the golden calf in some crowned and sceptred brute, or starred and mitred savage, as in days of yore, when kings and bishops were stained and covered with wick- edness and vice, and neither could write his name.IN DTJBLIff. 37 In their exemplary conduct, as well as usefulness, &re not the teachers superior to the clergy ? Have they been at any time disfigured or debased by the vices of which those who claim to be their supe- riors have been frequently arraigned and con- victed, nay, have they been suspected? Truth and justice deny it. Thus all moral, virtuous, and useful as they confessedly are, what is their reward ? They are neglected, spurned, and vili- fied by those on whom they confer the first and best of earthly blessings—a sound and virtuous education. Every other description and class of persons, even those who confer no benefit on so- ciety, have in old age and infirmity, some asylum for shelter and protection; but those holy labour- ers of the vineyard, have not an assigned spot on the face of earth to rest their heads on" # * ■ * * # * # DIARY.—FOURTH DAY, Next day I met my Mentor, as usual, and we moved up Sackville Street.—" Pray, what house is that?" said I. "That is a Bible mart," said he; " Did you never hear of the Irish biblicals?" " I did," said I; " that they were an abominable nuisance in the country. I would like to hear your report of them, for I have heard, and believe, that piety, morality, charity, and peace', have38 THE SOJOURNER eyerywhere taken flight* at the approach of the biblical; and that they have much to answer for." "Yes, Sir/' said he; " the Irish biblicals have a long and heavy account to settle with Ire- land, with humanity * and the Christian religion. They have uprooted society, and destroyed the spiritual repose of our people; they have extin-* guished the charities of human nature; armed man against man; severed the bonds of the dearest relations; and flung the torch of discord into the most peaceful and affectionate families. Biblicism is the greatest : such was the magic of the hammer of the Cabinet auctioneer of those good old days. This good man's blushing honours descended by primogeniture; and, I am told, the heir is one of the most arrogant, intolerant aris- tocrats of our day. So much for hereditary titles and primogeniture. Young Sir Roby was in his infancy a promising sprout; and all things consi- dered, followed the father with equal paces. He was very active through the factory, very dexte- rous in the use of the cat, and singularly careful that the lazy idlers of nine years old and under should do their duty. The sire smiled with joy at this early promise of insolence, injustice, and tyranny in the son. He removed him a while from the scene of his early taste and disposi- tion, and sent him to a school, where he knew the precious gem would be nurtured to maturity; for he now decidedly destined young Roby for a task master in the Colonies. The tyro did not dis- appoint the pious expectation; and in the fulness of time, and by the influence of money, he was sent over here, as Viceroy over a Lord Lieutenant, and the grinding peeling despot of the Irish peo- ple. The Lord he ruled was a man of singular tastes and accomplishments, an illiterate Vandal,52 THE SOJOURNER who could neither write nor speak the Lord prayerBy day he frequented the racket courts > jostling, cuffing, cursing, swearing, and drinking raw whiskey with every ruffian of the ring. By night he would sally forth from his garrison in the guise of a blacksmith, tinker, or coal porter; to smoke and drink till dawn, in some low pot-house, among the swindlers, footpads, and thieves, who flock into such places at late hours : three rolls of the weed, and six quarts of our native, were his own moderate stint. It must be owned that Dub- lin owed him the singular blessing of making more idlers, racket players, smokers, drunkards, night-walkers, and vagabonds, than all his pre- decessors, of whom he was emphatically pro- nounced the worst of the worst!! So much for the example of titled and monied Lords and mas- ters. But it seems there is no example, however vile or evil, flowing from such sources, that will not find admirers. It is said, that a goodly provost, a true votary of gothic tyranny and turmoil, the fawning parasite of any power, became so ena- moured of his Lord's gambols, that he vowed to God and the Lord, as far as in him lay, the glory >f the racket should never die!! and determined hat it should go down to the remotest existence. The big School-master accordingly ordered half a decade of ball-courts to be erected in the College ^ark. Here the students, stale and fresh, youngIN DUBLIN. 53 "and old, of every grade, cool and sweat, box and thump, curse and swear the whole day long, to the great advantage of their health and morals; the promotion of their education and future dig- nity, and the great hope and comfort of their parents and friends. The whole academic council look on this goodly institution with veneration ; and so strong is the 44 esprit de corps" amongst them on such occasions, that they would consider it a sacrilege, to even suspect the usefulness and paramount utility of the ball court. So venerable is the memory of the racket-playing mitre-giver. But their hour is come, and the contempt of the community is collected on the idle demoralizing practice of collegiate ball-playing. They will soon, it is supposed, from their predilection, ap- point a chair and professor, for the sublime science of racket playing, as a proper substitute for the Historical Society, which they inhumanly extin- guished, and for Xenophon, Cicero, and Demos- thenes, which they barbarously expelled. O tem- pora ! O mores !! What has taste, morality, and classic learning come to ! ! ! But, to return to the big Schoolmaster; he swore'that the ball of the Vice should be as conspicuous in the starry vault, as Ursa Major himself. The goodly Provost accordingly employed an artist of first rate to paint the Vice Royal in a suitable attitude, with a racket, twenty feet diameter, in his righ54 THE SOJOURNER hand, striking a ball, as large as Sadler's balloon^ up to the astonished luminaries. You might see J upiter seizing his thunderbolt, and trembling at the rapidity of its approach; Mercury tying wings to his heels, to fly out of the way; Mars buckling on his shield; and Juno and Venus screaming: the Provost, a snub, short-necked, broad-shoul- dered personage, kicking, roaring, and tearing his canonicals; and Curtly shouting * Belle, belle !f bravo, bravo! f! More power to your elbow, Grace!!' The pure and pious prayer prevailed ; the ball may be observed, by the eye of taste, pro- gressing through the several regions of the void ; and finally, seen no more. I suppose it lies snug in the lap of Ursa Major. It never emits a ray, but there remains opaque and dull—a true emblem of the murky stunted savage intellect of the sub- ject and contriver." " O dear," said I, " what a Vice Governor." " He was all vice/' said he— every bit of him." " I have heard, before," said I, " of such a man. He was—a few steps down— a son of the famous Nell Gwynne, or other woman of that kind. I assure you, friend, we have numerous such illegitimates ruling, and roasting, and devouring us in England." " Wonder," said he, " those dragons of legitimacy, the holy alliance, don't look to it." " O, our nobs," said I, " would never countenance an alliance of that kind i too close a scrutiny into legitimacy woul4IN DUBLIN. 55 be very inconvenient to some of them. I agree with you, my friend," said I, " but my time is come. We shall meet to-morrow, and resume with the Irish aristocracy." 44 Oh!" said he, " the worst that ever cursed a country, is the venal, vicious, worthless, profligate, and tyrannical Irish, little Mock Aristocrat!" I bid him adieu, and we parted for that day. I dined at home, and joined the family at tea. There were, besides those usually present, a few other persons not known to me, especially a lady whom I considered rather from parts of her costume, and from her sedate and silent manner, than from her accent, to be Scotch; also an English woman, and a native from the remote extremities of the green isle, who rejoiced at the crimson current of the great O'Briens now flowing fresh in her veins. This sample of the contour and model of that pe- culiar race, was a low, squat, round-chopped dame, with a red wig, the hair having long since parted company. Though she had escaped the vicissitudes of sixty solar revolutions, she still thought herself charming; but it was her sad fate all her life to admire without a ..rival* The ruby- nosed landlady always led, and gave a tone to the conversation, such as it was. " Last evening," said she, 44 when interrupted by the Major, I was alluding to what I had observed next door. O, ladies ! they are a beggarly crew. I am shocked56 THE SOJOURNER they are so near me. I wonder they would attempt to come into a genteel neighbourhood ; but the assurance of some folk cannot be measured, not even by Sir W. Baker, the knight of the goose and cabbage, who is so experienced a man of measures. What do you think they had for dinner ? Why, I'll tell you; a dish of murphies (potatoes) and three pair of Ringsend ducks, alias herrings, ha! ha! ha!—he I he! he!—I take a peep now and then into the back parlour of Mrs.-, at the other side of her. There with all the flaunts and airs abroad before the public, had you seen the out-goings to my uncle's office, as they call the sign of the Three Goldens; and the mantua-maker*s dinner from day to day, and no mistake. I can assure you, ladies, 'tis all true ; I have seen it, and made it my business to ascertain the facts." Here was a cry of " O, how amusing and interesting!" accompanied with a horse- laugh, in which all but the two strange ladies heartily joined. "Well! well!" said the Scotch lady, " I never yet have been in such company as this; and I trust I never shall again—such scan- dal ! such cruelty! such meddling in the affairs of others. In our good town of Edinburgh, and all through my country, we take the best care we tan of our own affairs ; and in that we find enough to do." "Then, Madam," said the landlady, 44 you live like nuns and recluses, each in your ownin dublin. 57 cell." u We," rejoined the Scotch lady, "love home and its occupations. We never trouble or vex our neighbours with inspection, scandal or impertinent inquiries : here you act like spies and sharpers on your neighbours. But we treat each other in the true spirit of friendship, cordiality, and kindness. While our neighbour is well and happy we rejoice, and congratulate, and give no farther trouble. But if he meet with any untoward reverse in his health or affairs, or is reduced to any crisis or jeopardy, then, indeed, we are busy about him and family ; acting, and inquiring, and devising the best we can, silently and discreetly, to relieve and to ^restore him. Then, and then only, we trouble him with inspection, close in- quiry, and frequent visits. Your kindness, as I now perceive, has the malignity of the serpent. Judas like, you kiss only to betray; you vex your neighbour with assiduities, and inquiries into his condition; not to sympathize or relieve, but to slander him, expose him, and cruelly aggravate his calamities. I have heard much of the scandals of a Dublin tea-table: I always thought the ac- count exaggerated, but I am now convinced it fell far short of the truth: for I never had an idea of anything so malignant, wicked, and unsparing, as the slanders of a Dublin tea-table, that regards neither age, sex, or condition." " I am by no means surprised," said the English lady; you, d 268 THE SOJOURNER Madam , are not as well acquainted with the Irish character as I am. This meddling, and preference of the affairs of others, is a sort of vice peculiar to them. It runs through their whole character. They have no patriotism—no nationality. They spend their time in mischievous meddling with the affairs and character of other people, and other countries, while they are utterly ignorant of their own. Her next-door neighbours cannot wash their hands* or light a candle in their own houses* without the censure and supervision of this land- lady ; and yet I see many instances of slovenly y sluttish management in her own house: and, as they say that charity begins at home, her first attention ought to be directed to her own affairs. If, then, she had any time to spare, it ought to be employed, not in lying, slandering,,and evil-doing, but in charity and kindly feeling; mitigating and relieving the sorrows and sufferings of our fellow-creatures." " I am, for my part, shocked and disappointed," replied the Scotch lady; " I ex- pected to find Irishwomen of a different taste and calibre. I am sorry to perceive them to be of a giddy, volatile, censorious disposition, strongly tinctured with envy, hatred, malice, and all un- charitableness towards one another; devoted to admiration and outward show, no flattery too gross, no praise too fulsome or absurd, their de- vouring vanity has stomach for it alL With alltN DUBLIN. 59 this, I am told they have no national feeling, no love of country. In their breast there is not one throb, or spark of national virtue. Any foreign impostor is sought and cherished, while an accom- plished native is repulsed and excluded. The barbers, jugglers, cut-throats, or jail-birds, in short, the low, the out-casts and abandoned from France, Italy, or any other country, are employed by Irishwomen, to teach their pretty daughters the corruptions and vices of language and morals imported amongst them by those abandoned and vicious renegades, while honest erudite natives of both sexes are left to starve, and the native lan- guage, the very soul of sweetness and delight, is spurned and degraded. I trust," continued the Scotch lady, 4 4 that after all this, so notorious and so glaring, I shall hear no more of such a nonen- tity as the good taste, patriotism, or national virtue of Irish women. I'll put the matter to the test in a moment. Is there an Irish lady present that can speak her native language? I pause for a reply-None! then none possessing a particle of good taste, patriotism, or true Irish feeling, nor worthy of the high name of Irish woman. Who does not remember the herd of scandal- mongers in Dublin ? * * * # As long as foul slander, infamous defamation, and the grossest debauchery of morals, shall be held in abomination, these wives or women will be60 THE SOJOURNER scorned and execrated.* Those women, without fear or shame, would defame and hunt down law-* * Alluding to the extolling of females of a certain description, in the face of married women and moral order ! !! But this anomaly was carried to such indecent and barbarous lengths in the city of scandal, (Dublin ; vide Lord Townsend, p. 23.) that it was enough to make the warm blood curdle in the veins, and grow cold, or infix in the mind a horror of the human species....., . Even a reconciliation between a man and his wife—a reconciliation founded on the principles of religion, morality, and social order, and effected with the lady through the mediation of numerous respectable friends on both sides, one of those an exemplary clergyman ; yet all its solemnity could not save it from being dragged through the teeth of scandal-mtngers, in violation of every law, divine and human! ! for, as holy writ ex- presses i t, " Those whom G&d hath joined, let no man put asunder /' Yes, good English reader ! we repeat it, a lawful wife and child, (now some years a captain in the army, and who before the age of seventeen, had the honour to serve his Majesty in many a hard fought field against the enemies of his country, in the peninsular war), were wounded in their feelings, and offended in their honour, by scandal-mongers, whose falsehood, notorious as it was base, is on record in our public Courts of Justice. We refer to certain legal proceedings, &c., and to the subsequent decision thereon, of two juries, viz. twenty-four men on their oaths—-respectable citizens of Dublin, demonstrative that there was not the'4 shadow of a shade" for the defamatory outrage in ques- tion. Yes, the peace and honour of a wife and child ! the lawful wife and child of a distinguished officer, who often shed his blood in the field of battle in the cause of his country, could find neither re- spect, sympathy, or forbearance from the Dublin slanderers. 'I But the vipers bite a file!" It may be asked, why was not this defamatory outrage punished by the laws of the country ? The answer is, it could not be brought home to the authors ; for the law says, " report is a common liar " And thus, by this means, report is left without remedy. But then, and now, we are authorized to declare publicly, let the delinquentsIN DUBLIN. 61 ful wives and their children, and extol, court, and cherish the most abandoned wretches, and, through such means, endeavour to alienate the affections of the married men from their families, to the utter ruin of their fortune, reputation, and domes- tic peace and happiness, and in those laudable pursuits, have in many instances but too fatally succeeded." Here the poor red-nosed landlady could no longer endure; she exclaimed, " Pray, madam, explain; do you bring all the Irish ladies be fully and legally identified, and they shall be prosecuted according to law, not from any feeling of personal resentment, for contempt is a great repellant—but for the sake of truth, justice, morality, self vindication, and the honour of an outraged family—the family of a British officer. It is known to living witnesses, one of those a distinguished officer of high rank, that His Royal Highnrss, the late ever to be lamented Duke of Kent, was the kind patron of the British officer above alluded to—whose Son, when a student at Great Marlow Military College, was gazetted at the Horse Guards, an ensign in his Royal Highness's regiment, the 1st Royals, at the special recommendation of His Royal Highness the Duke of Kent. This took place in the year 1811 or 1812. The late lamented General Sir Charles Asgile, Bart., that heroic and distinguished officer, deservedly celebrated for his brilliant and memo- rable services in the American war, was also the military friend and patron of the British veteran officer to whom we allude. In allusion to the reconciliation between a man and his wife—which gave such umbrage to Irish delicacy and refinement; we ask the honest, matter of fact, English reader, if the Dublin slanderers thought proper to fight the battle of a convicted, executed prostitute, robber, and murderer! (convicted and executed according to the sentence of the law, and a full and'published confession of guilt,) was it to be expected that a lawful wife would join in the outcry against her husband ? and sliout Huzza!! huzza! ! Mad dog ! ! mad -dog !!!62 THE SOJOURNER under the ban of your sweeping condemnation V' " Yes, indeed," replied the Scotch lady, very calmly, " I include in it all the ladies, and would- be ladies—that is, all the immoral, vicious, bare- faced, tea-table scandal-mongers in Dublin." At this period I felt drowsy, and retired to my room* ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ DIARY-FIFTH DAY. Next day met my Mentor as usual; the descrip- tion of the Lord Substitute, and the Schoolmaster was so novel and extraordinary, I was desirous to know what the Viceroy was doing, in the mean time. " The Viceroysaid he, " was very busy during the gambols and traffic of the Lord and the mitre hunter, whose head was aching for one, devising plans of oppression and persecution against the Irish people. He was constantly sur- rounded by the partizans of a faction which he openly pampered and patronised. His tyranny had neither remorse nor restraint, will and plea- sure were his limits of right and wrong. He turned out of their places blameless and educated men, graduates of the University of their country, to make room for the scullions, or ostlers, or bastards of some titled partizan. No engagement was sa- cred that could be broken with impunity, and the public faith, which even savages hold sacred, was by him every day wantonly and impiously broken.IK DUBLIN. 63 His whole career in this country was one unbroken train of insult and tyranny, tending to excite and subdue the Irish people. In the first he succeeded, in the latter he never could, and he left this coun- try, loaded with Ireland's loudest, deepest execra- tions ! !" " I heard," said I, " he was always a rank Tory." " Tory, Sir!" said he, " I could never persuade my poor countrymen of the folly and fatuity of attaching any value to those nick- names of faction; Whig and Tory are only two names of the factions into which the Aristocracv- 7 the arch enemy of King and people have divided themselves for the purpose of crushing and plun^ dering both. Look around! is there a people in the world so robbed, impoverished, and degraded * as the people of those kingdoms, or a family in the realm so constrained, as the royal family? By whom is this done? by the Aristocracy, who restrain and plunder King and people at discre- tion, and hold their will and pleasure as the mea- sure of right and wrong. Like black-legs in a ring, the Tories pretend a zeal for the dignity and prerogative of the King; the Whigs stand up* they say, for the rights and liberties of the people; thus they set the King and people at one another* The King is persuaded that his people are dis- affected to him, he adds new restraints on their liberties, the people are taught to look with terror and distrust on their King. The Aristocracy gloat64 THE SOJOURNER on all this* they restrict the King, plunder the people, and monopolize the wealth of the whole realm." "Wonder," said I, 44that the King and people don't see into this foul and wicked conspi- racy against the liberty and happiness of both, or into the folly of attaching any value to the designa- tions of Whig andTory, but consider them as nick- names, under which a reckless devouring faction has found it convenient to divide itself, for the pur- pose of gulling, plundering and tyrannising the King and people; but the growing education and intelli- gence of the public will not be much longer duped. " From this brutal tyranny of those titled nobs; from their boundless profligacy and rapacity, have risen the poor laws, so unnatural, so illegal, so dis- graceful to any free, well-governed country; from it arose the working of infants, of seven years old and under, for sixteen hours of the four- and-twenty, from the same impure source has flown on those realms all the debt, vice, disgrace, external execration, and domestic discontent, that disgraces the English name, and clogs and im- pedes every movement of our country." Here the hour of parting had arrived, we separated for the present, I dined, and joined the family at tea ; I met some new faces, besides the Governess, and a young woman of rather good appearance, on whom she vented her bile most copiously. " 1 tell you, Miss," said the Governess, " with all your flauntsIN DUBLIN. 65 and airs, and your few hundreds, your money is blood-money, made by your father in the rebellion of 98, where he was apparently an officer, but in fact a spy, an informer; a cold-blood murderer and executioner; when the poor Irish were wan- tonly shot, or hanged from every tree, or lamp- post, at the fiat of any infamous informer, without judge or jury, without remorse or humanity, or a moment's consideration of their guilt or innocence. This was high harvest-home with your father and every ruffian like him, who was ready to gorge and glut on the blood and fortunes of his devoted countrymen. Who does not remember the San- dyses, the Reynolds, and above all, your own dear relative, Miss Blood-money, the ever in- famous walking gallows—Hempenstall, and Jemmy O'Brien, the convicted, executed per- jurer, assassin and murderer? Yes they are re- membered, and damned to everlasting fame : eternal execration has made them her own ; and consigned them, and their very names, to the ardent abomination of the latest prosperity."— " What do you mean," said one of the company, " by a walking gallows? How could any human being acquire such a horrible designation?"— " Sir," replied the Governess, " Hempenstall was a very tall man. The monster, accompanied by three or four ruffians of his own stamp, would saunter out morning, noon, and night, through66 THE SOJOURNER the fields, the high-ways, and by-ways, wherever be saw a poor peasant, or any Irishman of means or fortune, whom he suspected, he would have him caught, and brought up to him, by his fellow- murderers ; he would then throw a handkerchief with a rope passed through the fold of it (with which he was always supplied) round the neck of his victim, he then slung him over his shoulder, and being of very long stature, as observed, by two or three quick steps, and the accompanying chucks, he hanged the man;—and hence was he called the walking gallows : and by thus murder- ing wealthy respectable persons, he amassed wealth, and enriched his family with those cold- blood confiscations, for he possessed himself with- out account or control of the property of those he thus murdered; Hempenstall is not, indeed, an inapt name for a hangman."—1" But what did at last become of him T—u Why he was found dead in a ditch in one of those fields that had been so often, and so recently the scene of his murders. He was cast into a hole in a condemned burying ground called Bully's Acre, with this appropriate Epitaph:— Here lies rotting the cold-blood Hempenstall, Judge, jury, hangman, gallows, rope and all." The whole company were amazed and horrified at this recital of the Governess. The young person at whom she levelled the battery, listened inIN DUBLIN. 67 silence the whole time, but now observed:—" You have spoken of my father and relatives, no doubt to your own gratification, and perhaps that of most of your hearers. But pray you all, look nearer home, you may not find him more efficient on the stage, than some of your own friends behind the curtain. Many hold high heads and titles, who if the truth were known, are not essentially less guilty of enormities, than even the worst of my unfortunate friends."—" But, I say," said the Governess vehemently, " from the very core your father was base and bad, for I am told he was originally a rag-man or shoe-black." At this stage, I cried, " a truce with farther recrimination," and thinking there was something significant in the young person's observation, I begged to retire to rest. And accordingly withdrew, not disposed soon to forget the strange things related by the Governess. DIARY—SIXTH DAY. This day, I met my good friend as usual, and asked his opinion of poor laws. " Though loaded with poverty," said he, " we know nothing of poor laws—God forbid we should. They are an essential sign of bad and tyrannical government, and of the grossest abuse of power and privilege. Poor laws as in your country, are most despotic and debasing.68 THE SOJOURNER They hold forth a premium for idleness, and extin- guish or paralyze every spring, or spark, of pride, shame, or energy, in the human mind ; and tend to inspire their object, or rather their victim, with desperation or apathy. They illegally restrain him, curtail his liberty, circumscribe his progress —-spy his movements, and hold him in a kind of proscription, in the land of his fathers, the land of Magna Charta, the land so loudly and exclusively proclaimed the seat of Freedom ! Where the Afri- can's chain it is said magically bursts around him ; and which Liberty has chosen above all the world, for her head-quarters. How, Sir,'' said he, 4 4 does this bloated bombast, and it is the language of your own countrymen, and of the sycophants who would deceive you and mankind at large regard- ing that liberty, and happiness of the British sub- ject, which is only spoken of, and no where to be found—I say, how does such a boast square with the tyranny, and persecution, exercised by your poor laws ? The unfortunate, who is condemned to the operation of those laws, is unnaturally cir- cumscribed and deprived of the just and rational use of his moral and physical power; if he pass a certain limit, he is immediately kidnapped, and, like a trespassing quadruped, is driven into pound ; the British subject is hurried forcibly into a Work-house ; there to labour at the discretion of his task masters; and live on food with which hisIN DUBLIN. 69 despots would not affront their favourite lap-dogs. Thus multitudes are paralyzed, by the tyranny, and rapacity, of the privileged and pampered few; and thrown back for support on those who are only less poor than themselves, and struggling for a mere competence for selves and families; or at the best, for decent support; these poor people are they who pay the poor rates : does Duke A, or Earl B, or Lord C, pay poor rates ? though the poverty and misery of the people flow from their avarice, idleness, and prodigality'? Assuredly they do not. With all your dexterity and ingenuity in England, you cannot manage poor laws ; nature, reason, and justice oppose you, and with such antagonists you can never succeed; impossible. Such laws are unnecessary, in any fairly and justly governed country. The man, who is able to work, can never be poor if he get employment, and he cannot want employment in a country abounding with resources for labour. But where a pampered few by their tyranny and exactions, and their avowed hostility to popular rights and prosperity, systematically withhold employment from the many, for the purpose of humiliating and debasing them; human nature recoils at such unchristian barbarity, and is perhaps, at this moment, gene- rating a reaction that the titled ought to contem- plate with some solicitude; and endeavour to vert or anticipate, by due and timely condescen-70 the sojourner sions and concessions. Your struggling country- men, on whom the burden of poor-rates falls, pay them with a just and a very natural reluctance; no wonder; for every penny they pay that impost is putting, or keeping, so much in the pockets of the Aristocracy, to squander on their pleasures and gratifications, in France or Italy, or some other foreign resort; for you too have your absentees, enriching other countries with the money they wring from the sweat of the brows, and fruits of the labour, of their own starving and oppressed countrymen. Is this the fruit of the conquest of Runnymede? Is this the Magna Charta the people have obtained ? There it seems the Barons have conquered for themselves, and from that day have plotted and conspired against the rights, liber- ties, and prosperity of the people. For all tyrant as John may have been, he was but one; but his fall imposed on England, and her dominions, as many tyrants, as he had titled conquerors. Their conduct ever since, to this day, shews how selfishly and tyrannically they have used their victory, and how contumeliously, and despotically, they have treated the people, by whose blood and valour they obtained it. Pray Sir," said he, "are there poor laws in France, Italy, Holland, or Germany ?" "No, and the reason is obvious ; in those countries there are just and humane governments: the nobles are content with moderate incomes. 200/,IN DUBLIN* 71 or even 100Z, a year of our sterlings, is the suffi- cient and ample revenue of some of them. The people are permitted to live happy and contented on the soil which God made for them, and by the fruit which their skill and industry can raise from it, There every man gets his rood, or acre, or any quantity he likes, at a cheap rate, which he holds unaltered, unmolested, he &nd his posterity, from generation to generation. There the truly christian and magnanimous nobles, are the com- paratively poor ; and the tillers of the soil, and working classes, the comparatively rich : yet all living in content, happiness, and ease, and in mutual confidence and affection. There are no rack rents ; no absentee agents, or persecutors; no subletting Acts; no clearing or exterminating Acts; no rasing of poor habitations to the ground, or turning adrift wretched families by scores and hundreds without house, home, or shelter. There a fellow subject is not wantonly and brutally kidnapped on the highway, and forced to undergo the slavery and degradation of a loathsome work- house. And yet, there is no Magna Charta ; that imaginary thing, which Oliver Cromwell once called by some other name, which I now forget, but was perfectly suited to the prompt, decisive, and coarse character of that double refined regicide and hypocrite; there is no talk of a bill of rights, or the bloated and scouted bom-72 THE SOJOURNER bast of " the envy of surrounding nations, and the admiration of the world or the fable of the African's chains miraculously bursting about him the moment he sets foot on that sacred land which holy liberty has called her own. And yet, with- out all, or any of this gross jugglery, or imposture, or oppression, or kidnapping ; how much better and happier the people are in these abodes of true peace, comfort, and liberty. There the humblest peasant has a fowl and a joint 011 his table, at least every Sunday; but in Ireland such a thing would be deemed a phenomenon; and is rare as manna in the Wilderness. In your own Utopia, of Magna Charta, workhouses, and poor laws, and all such other blessings, can your peasantry boast often of such comfort or indulgence?"— " Assuredly, my friend," said I, " not half as often as they are entitled ; they feel it, and grumble justly and loudly. But I trust the education and intelligence, the growing wisdom and sagacity of our countrymen on both sides, will look closely, firmly, and constitutionally into those things, and never cease reminding their lords and masters, in lawful and calm terms, that cannot be mistaken; that they expect a redress of grievances, and a liberal and ample remission of the monstrous mo- nopoly of the wealth of the nation, by an idle, useless, self-titled, and pampered order." 44 May the Lord," said he, " strengthen and prosperIN DUBLIN. 73 your brave and generous countrymen, with wis- dom, fortitude, and prudence, to assert their rights, and redress their grievances. How we long to shake the hand of sympathy and cordiality with them; and demonstrate, that we have hearts resolved, and hands prepared, and tongues ready and willing to give them, with promptitude and sincerity, every loyal and constitutional aid in our power. This holy and legal union once effected between the three great populations, the three kingdoms would be really and cordially united; tria juncta in uno, u Great, glorious and free, The first flowers of the earth— The first gems of the sea! !" "Thenwould there be no need of demoralizing workhouses, or barbarous unchristian poor laws. The throne would be strengthened, the nobility itself more secure, and the brightest jewel added to the British diadem, by the new commerce, con- fidence, and cordiality, that would necessarily be established between our gracious monarch, and his loyal, loving and devoted subjects—the people; who are now kept asunder at a freezing and blighting distance, by a jealous, selfish, covetous, monopolizing, and tyrannical nobility. This holy union effected, the lurid medium of the aristo- s74 THE SOJOURNER cracy would be removed. The monarch and his people would, for the first time, see each other in their own pure and proper lights; both would be relieved from that incubus (the titled) that now broods on the country, and paralyzes all its ener- gies. Poor laws and their impious consequences would be no longer borne or thought of. Em- ployment for the strong and healthy would be procured ; and asylums, at a small public charge, wanting only for the feeble and helpless. Be- lieve me, Sir, I speak the sentiments of my poor and generous countrymen; when I express my sincere and earnest hope, that this consummation will be realized : and assure you of our devotion to the crying cause of all, and of our readiness, heart and hand, word and deed, to lend every legal and constitutional assistance towards the redress of grievances, and a relief from the privations we endure, through the want of a due share of the produce of our labour and industry; and a more equitable distribution of the wealth of the country, now monopolized by a self-privileged few, who rule this country for their own pelf and advantage, and never permit the King to see or know his people. I read the other day a memoir of the King of Holland, which other Kings ought to have ever before them in letters of gold, for their example; and people, for their in- struction and guidance. That good Monarch walksIN DUBLIN. 75 out, quite alone,morn, noon, and eve; plain as any fellow-citizen; salutes those he meets, even on equal terms; converses and communes with some ; and on certain days of the week, gives audience to his people; and hears and redresses, in person, the complaints of the humblest of his subjects. Here is a model for the conduct of Kings, Here is a model for a people's choice. Is it a wonder that the King of Holland, and others like him, should live in the hearts of his people, and have his throne and power based on their devoted and ardent affections'? Is his palace a fortress, walled and armed like a garrison in an enemy's country, with sentinels ten deep ? Has he minions, syco- phants, and satraps round his person to prevent his intercourse with his people; to persuade him they are his enemies, and that his safety and dig- nity would be compromised by the slightest com- munion with them ? Is he the King of a faction, the puppet of a faction, or the common father of his people ? Has he poor laws, work-houses, forced idlers and vagrants ? No such thing. All his people are employed and happy, under his per- sonal and paternal protection. When will the people of these realms have such free and personal access to their gracious King? Never under pre- sent circumstances; while the titled nobility are permitted to assume and exercise the power of preventing it: for under their unlucky sway, a76 THE SOJOURNER poor British subject could sooner contrive to see his Lord God than his earthly King. I have said, Sir, that poor laws encourage vice and idleness. They are, moreover, the hot-bed of crime, and every species of turpitude. What able-bodied healthy man wanting employment, with his moral and physical faculties rich and fresh about him, will submit to the slavery and degradation of the workhouse? No, he will rather become a high- wayman, a burglar, or burker, or some such infa- mous character, in which he will be ultimately detected, and brought to condign and ignominious punishment. Such are some of the demoralizing effects of poor laws, the offspring of that poverty, which is systematically caused by the rapacity and jealousy of a selfish, covetous, and devouring no- bility. This is part of the engine, which they have contrived to debase the people, and perpetuate their own order; in which they have laboured to maintain a confraternity and co-ordinance, from the most pompous peer, down to the lowest bant- ling of primogeniture." « My friend," said I, what is your opinion of primogeniture V' " It is, Sir, in my mind, an organ of the noble machine for degrading human nature, multiplying crimi- nals and paupers, and giving additional strength and solidity to the dronish and ravenous hive of hereditaries. " Primogeniture surpasses even the poor laws inIN DUBLIN. 77 its enormous malignity; in the unmitigated cru- elty of its inhumanity, barbarity, and injustice. It gives to one of the family, and that often the worst, as before observed, (whether or no primo- geniture is all-sufficient to make him so ;) it gives him the whole property of the parent, to the rob- bery and degradation of the rest of the children, however numerous. Often above eight or nine are known to be cast adrift, into want and misery, by this brutal unchristian penal law. The favour- ed one looks at this with savage »apathy, and would not give a penny to save the life of one of the sufferers. Thus we see how this all-impious law extinguishes all the sympathies and charities of human nature; severs the bonds of blood, and the dearest kindred; alienates from each other those who ought to be mutually most dear; and sows the seeds of jealousy and discord for ever between them. The favourite sits down to his ill-acquired wealth, like a grub or a drone, till he consume it; or hies off to the rest of the Absentees, and squanders it in the hells, and other infamous haunts of foreign countries, where in one night he spends a year's produce. Then he writes to his goodly agent, to lead, drive, and carry; stop at nothing to furnish a fresh supply for his career of debauchery. In short, this new property is mort- gaged, alienated, and soon completely wheeled out of his hands. The first-born then becomes a pau-78 THE SOJOURNER per in turn, and an inmate of the work-house, to which he but a little before so liberally contri- buted, by the consignment of his brothers and sisters. Thus, in order to make one profligate, or at best an insolent inhuman upstart, the rest of the family of brothers and sisters are cast away into indigence and meanness. Unable to support them- selves, or fill that useful place in society which their share of the spoliated property would enable them to do, they swell the quantity of mendicity, crime, discontent, and disaffection. The females die of want, or take to the streets ; the males to the highway; or become spies and informers, and se- cret agents, for the corruption of the people, distur- bance of the public repose, and subversion of the laws and institutions of the country." " You spoke/' said I, "of the impatient demands of the absentees for fresh remittances ; sure there cannot be distress on the property sufficient to meet such?" " Distress, sir, " said he ; "we are never without it in abundance. Our unfortunate country is one uniform face of distress and misery. Look at the shops even in Grafton-street and Dame-street, our now most fashionable resorts, divided into halves and quarters: those shops once bursting and groaning with the rich and luxuriant variety of wares and merchandize, now split into miserable fractions, occupied by barbers, small pastry-cooks, snuff and baby rags. Look at Sackville-street,IN DUBLIN. 79 once the residence of the nobles of this land, their mansions now converted into pot-houses, hotels, mendicity asylums, auction-rooms, and school- houses ; look at all this, and say there is not dis- tress in this hapless land." " But, friend," said I, " I meant property." "Sir," said he, "there is no property here........ Another tyrannical law that presses most grievously on his Majesty's subjects is the game law, which makes it penal and criminal in a man to kill a hare or a spar- row, within the limits of the land he pays rent and taxes for. Is not this absolute despotism ? 66 But this is not the only mortification the honest industrious farmer has to endure. Whenever it pleases the titled to proclaim a hunt, he must pa- tiently bear to see their Lordships, with their hounds, hares, horses, foxes, huntsmen, and re - tainers, dashing and driving through his fields and fences, worrying and scattering his flocks and herds, uprooting his crops and tillage, tear- ing, dissipating, and destroying all before them. Thus must the poor man behold, before his eyes, and without remedy or redress, the labour of his men and cattle, the hope of his sustenance and happiness, wantonly destroyed before him by this barbarous and inhuman hurricane; besides the expense he incurs in repairing, as far as possible, his inestimable loss. Is not this, sir," said he, 4 c the very confection of tyranny and inhumanity V980 THE SOJOURNER " It is, indeed," said I, "and in my opinion the aristocracy have a heavy account to settle with their King and country for the oppressions and spo- liations they so cruelly inflict on the people; won- der it is not yet perceived in the proper quar- ter." 44 But, sir," said he, "it is perceived, and the nobles have got significant intimation of the fact, from the late King, and more recently from the Marquess of Anglesey." 4< I would be glad," said I, " to know how that occurred V' " Sir," said he, 44 at an approaching prorogation, in the latter part of his late Majesty's reign, a knot of English and Irish aristocrats hived and conspired together, to induce his Majesty to grant them extraordi- nary powers, farther to coerce and oppress the people in their several counties and districts; but in vain; for his Majesty replied to them: 4 Gentlemen, it would better become you, and con- 4 duce more to the benefit of the State, and the 6 happiness of my people, if you would repair to 4 your estates, commune with your tenantry and 4 dependants, learn their wants and their wishes, 4 and endeavour to sooth their sorrows and relieve 4 their distresses, rather than come before me to ob- 4 tain new measures for their farther oppression 4 and restraint.5 Here, by the magnanimous inter- position of their gracious King, the people were protected from the additional aggressions and spo- liations of a tyrannical aristocracy."IN DUBLIN, 81 What," said I, " was the case respecting the Marquess T H In the last administration of the noble Marquess in this country, it was represented to him that the peasantry of the County of Clare were in a state of insurrection, and appearing armed, in immense bodies. In order to ascertain the fact, and investigate the cause, His Excellency proceeded in person to that county. The peasan- try, apprised of his arrival, flocked around him, hailed his presence as the day-star of relief and redress, and offered to lay down their arms at his Excellency's feet. The Marquess said, 4 he never saw a finer or more vigorous peasantry ; that he would not deprive them of a single weapon; that he had no doubt they had them rather for defence; and that the gentry of that county had much to answer for their treatment of the people.' What- ever political adversaries may say of his Excel- lency, the people, not only of the county of Clare, but of all Ireland, and the universal British realm, should be ever grateful for this humane and gene- rous expression." 44 Most truly/' said I, " his Ex- cellency, even for that alone, deserves their ever- lasting gratitude: and Irishmen are neither un- mindful nor ungrateful. The aristocracy ought to pause, and gravely reflect. They have run along and licentious career of oppression and plunder against the people; Lord Brougham's announce- ment should be still fresh in their memorv, and *782 THE SOJOURNER have all due weight. He has warned them that the schoolmaster is abroad, with a rod of scorpions in his hand, flogging and whipping great offenders and delinquents right and left. Can blacker cri- minals be than the systematic and ruthless oppres- sors of the people ; their offence is rank, and cries to heaven for vengeance. It behoves them there- fore to repent, and retrace their steps ; to mend their manners ; and prepare a judgment-book— fair, clean, and well vouched, to be laid before the schoolmaster on his arrival, for he is on his way, giant strides, and will not be trifled with. They must, at least, account and disgorge, and may be sure the day of retribution will arrive : for offended humanity and justice will not much longer suffer the wanton tyrannies inflicted on the people by a cruel and remorseless aristocracy." u As to a day of retribution," said he, " it cer- tainly will arrive, either in individual instances, or in one sweeping and terrific visitation. Not only the oppressors but the evil-minded, have already got fearful and practical warnings in our own memory." " I would be glad to know," said I, " the in- stances." " I can," said he, " mention four. I shall proceed with them in historical order. The first was Fitzgibbon, Chancellor of Ireland, and the arch-traitor of his country at the period of the all-detestable Union. This man was so abominatedIN DUBLIN. 83 by the Irish people, and he so well aware of it, that he never went abroad unarmed; and as the injurer never forgives, his constant theme was his inveterate hatred of the Irish people, and pledging himself he would never cease till he made them as tame as gelt cats P " Was that his expression?" said I, " oh, how gross and brutal!!" " It is his expression, sir," said he, " for the man was of mean birth ; the bad drop, as they say in my country, was still thick in his veins. The pride and delicacy of History may disdain to stain her pages with them; but truth will insist on their appearance, at least, in his biography. What was the result ? A fall from his horse caused a surgi- cal operation to the effect of his menace, to be performed on himself. This accelerated and shor- tened his mortal career; and it is notorious, that on the day of his interment showers of dead cats, flung by the populace, as if falling from the air, filled his grave before his remains were deposited in it. "The second is the catastrophe of Mr. Perceval, Premier of England. In 1812, in his administra- tion, when war was raging between France and England, a book was published in these countries called the Revolutionary Plutarch. This professed to be a biography of every member of Napoleon's family, attributing to them each and all, the most shocking and detestable crimes and vices, not84 THE SOJOURNER sparing even the ladies of that family, to the foot of this Brochure was tacked the famous pamphlet entitled Killing no Murder, which so shook and terrified the iron mind and frame of Cromwell, that he did not long survive the first sight of it. All this was an invitation, and incitement to mis- creants in this country, to repair to France and assassinate Napoleon. But the wicked intention operated nearer home ; Bellingham was the first pupil, and the minister himself, the first victim, of the abominable doctrine. 46 The third is the horrible fate of Lord Castle- reagh ; who was the yoke-fellow of Fitzgibbon, in the work of Irish treason; who caused countless throats to be cut; and more human blood to be shed than the British navy could ride in. Con- science smote him ; universal execration pursued him. The genius of Ireland which he vended and enslaved incessantly haunted him. The black re- trospect of his atrocious deeds was ever and with- out remission racking his senses : it subdued him, he made the only amende obvious; he cut his own throat, and fell unregretted, to the universal joy and relief of mankind ; with the only alloy, that he had not done the welcome deed forty years sooner. " The fourth is not less remarkable. Sir Joseph Yorke, a noisy, turbulent seaman, rude and bois- terous as his habitual element; prayed, in hisIN DUBLIN. 85 place in the House of Commons, ' that Ireland may be sunk eight-and-forty hours in the ocean!! for, that then, and then alone, could peace and quiet be ensured from her.' What followed? Boating on the Thames a few days after; the avenging spirit Hibernia hovered over him; and decreed that the experiment of a few hours im- mersion should be tried on her enemy. It had the desired effect to a nicety; for, all savage and blustering as he was his whole life before, Joey was taken up, and continues ever since, as mute and meek as a sucking babe!!! " Here is direct and exemplary retribution. The fact and detail, plain and historical: their well- known unquestionable truth rejecting every idea or suspicion of enthusiasm, credulity, or exaggera- tion. What a terrible lesson to tyrannical and blood-thirsty cabinets, their minions, and minis- ters.. This, Sir," said he, "suggests one conso- lation to my unfortunate countrymen; the assu- rance, that the guardian genius of Ireland, neither slumbers nor sleeps, and that the day of her re- dress and regeneration is fast approaching." " What you have said of those personages," ob- served I, " I am well aware is most true. I have already heard it all. May it act as a sufficient caution to their survivors. The plain circumstan- tial simplicity of your account would give it, even to a stranger, the stamp of truth. It is indeed86 THE SOJOURNER beyond expression awful! it astounds imagination, and subdues reflection ; so consecutive, so much in kind; so terrible, and directly retributive ! In two of the instances, the will alone of evil is punished ; the others suffered for the overt act and deed. They fell into the snare they laid, Their deeds and intentions tremendously recoiled on them. It seems that the finger of Providence directed all; and that a protecting spirit watches over the destinies of the people ; resents their wrongs, and punishes their oppressors, promptly and awfully ! as in this instance ; and in all cases, surely, how- ever slowly! I repeat and proclaim, oppressors and licentious spoliators, pause and tremble! con- dign punishment is fast pursuing you, swift and sure-footed; and you shall not long escape. If an indignant Providence suffer your wickedness to proceed unmolested, during the momentary space of this mortal life; think not you are for- given or forgotten, poor creatures, lay not that vapid unction to your souls. Awful condemna- tion awaits you ! Ten thousand times the length of your earthly lives would be too, too short even for the most intense exercise of good works and charities, and the millionth part infinitely too long for your reckless and guilty career! therefore again I say,—reflect! tremble!! repent!!! it may not be, even at the twelfth hour, too late! God is all-compassionate, as just; and accords his divineIN DUBLIN. 87 mercy to the contrite sinner between the stirrup and the ground!! but a moment! a moment lost may be irrevocable !!! Consult your guilty consciences —conscience that severe, impartial, and sleepless monitor never connives nor flatters. In hideous and reproving aspect, it ever stares, and warns, and menaces the evil-doers; and never in vain, except the abandoned and desperate. I address myself to great and incorrigible delinquents all over the earth—for we should not be niggard or confined in our charities ; to Christians without Christianity, to preachers without morals, to churchmen without piety, those who have charity and good works only flippant on the lips, while the heart teems with vice and iniquity : to cabinets and their agents, who only speak of justice, equity, and good faith ; but practise knavery, oppression, spoliation and perfidy; these arch disciples of sin and crime ; these fervent devotees of all unright- eousness, I would like to reclaim, not so much for their sake, as for the ease and relief of God's, people, whom they deceive, devour, plunder, and oppress. They appear to live, as if never to die; as if death, and judgment, and retribution were an unreal and fabulous invention. But woe unto you, hypocrites and oppressors! your hour will surely come!!! I say to you again and again pause ! reflect! repent!! Cease to starve, oppress, and demoralize your fellow-creatures. Cease to88 THE SOJOURNER restrain and exterminate God's people, by famine, privations, and savage laws. Treat them at length according to the behests of nature, of reason, of Christianity—suffer God's people to enjoy the land and the fruits his benign will and wisdom has prepared for their sustenance. Holy Scripture commands you to 4 give the labourer his hire, and not muzzle the ox that treads out the corn.' Insist no longer on your all impious but favourite maxim, which your hearts know to be unequivo- cally false, that population is superabundant. I repeat, that impiety herself could not imagine a more daring and impious falsehood, an abominable blasphemy, on the bounty, the wisdom, and the boundless love and mercy of the Almighty Creator to his creatures. Do we see a field or tree pro- duce more fruit, flower, or foliage than it is fully able to sustain ? nor does a country population, for the care and providence of the Almighty equally pervades all his works; he has not made a mouth without food for it. Away, then, with you, Malthuses, and M'Cullochs, and other hired and wilful blasphemers, and your equally guilty abettors and employers. You, who libel the Al- mighty God! arraign his divine dispensations and will! and put him, as it were, on his trial before his miserable and sinful creatures, for creating, forsooth, a population for which He has not pro- vided support, and sentence him as a punishment,IN DUBLIN. 89 to the extermination of the surplus, by transpor- tations, restraint, and coercion, forced famines, and barbarous laws. Witness your own sub-let- ting act, the most perfect and infamous engine for the destruction of the human race, that wicked- ness incarnate could devise—which razes to the ground the hovels of the poor, and turns adrift on the world, men, women, and children! widows, orphans, aged, sick, and disabled, by thousands! without house, home, food, clothes, or shelter !!! O Christianity! charity! love and fear of God! humanity ! conscience! and self-conviction! You see those abominations! how long will they be endured ? O nineteenth century! O boasted civi- lization ! O sympathies and sensibilities of all good men! I appeal to you! ! rouse at length from your culpable apathy!! humanity and reli- gion invoke you ; in love of God, raise your voices for the protection of your fellow-subjects and fel- low-men, and save them in future from ruthless and wanton destruction." " Sir," said my Men- tor, " you have spoken most justly, some may think rather strongly. But what can be suffi- ciently strong or severe against the parricides of their country? their guilt was great, and great and memorable was their punishment. They will float down detested, on the tide of time, to the remotest posterity! and so may it ever fare with all those who by omission or commission,90 THE SOJOURNER contribute to the ruin and degradation of their 4 dear native landor to the wanton destruction and debasement of mankind." "If there be an innate principle; it is, that of universal horror of the traitor of his country. The abomination of all ages load him; even the Pa- gans, of remotest antiquity, held, that the most hideous and noisome spot in the infernal regions, and the most exquisite tortures, were reserved for the traitors of their country, who 6 sold it for gold,' and brought it to bondage and subjection. Indeed, unequivocal evidence convinces us, that in all times and places, the curse of God and man pursues them; yet so inveterate and original is their depravity, they are even at this day incorri- gible, incurable!! I cannot suppress my] horror and grief, at observing that those brutal cruelties are directly and exclusively aimed at my unfortu- nate countrymen, for whom no treatment, however barbarous, is deemed too bad. Did you, sir, ever hear of an overgrown population, or sub-letting act in your country, or in Scotland, France, Holland, or even in Pagan China, where there is more than a man for every rood?" " No," said I, " in England or Scotland it dare not be even mentioned." " Nor never may," said he ; 44 O may the flame of divine liberty ever shine bright in your bosoms! May your incense never burn in vain to that fairest of goddesses! preserve her temple and worship in-IN DUBLIN. 91 violate, at least in England and Scotland, and Ireland will not despond, while a ray of freedom beams so near. One longs for the boon he sees his comrades enjoying, even at a distance, and hopes that in some time his portion may come round; but liberty extinguished amongst you, and put entirely out of our view, then indeed would our case be desperate. Proceed and prosper, the hearts of the Irish people are with you. You possess advantages from which nature bars us' seas roll not between you and the fountain of re- dress. We shall not be idle spectators; eight millions, praying relief and mitigation, and con- stitutional rights, one million, at least, determined and ready to fight the battles of their king and country, should not be trifled with ; all in our power shall be done, for the legal, peaceful, and constitutional vindication of rights, and redress of wrongs. Knock, and it shall be opened; ask, and it shall be given! A strong pull, and a pull alto- gether, need not be a long one. What a mon- strous anomaly!!! heroic millions on both sides our channel, begging rights from our imbecile hun- dreds. How long will this endure?" " As long," said I, " as concord is under the dominion of dis- cord! while the people prefer dissension and animo- sity to union and brotherly love, so long shall the millions beg, and so long will the imbecile hun- dreds refuse." " But," said he, " where concord92 THE SOJOURNER takes a sure hold, she cannot be dislodged or dis- comfited, and what is very strange, the strength of her antagonist increases her power and sway, nay, she often makes discord a secret ally, to spread suspicion and disorder in the enemies' camp. Thus it is, that concord, with her few hundreds, cunning, zealous, and compact, has ever with impunity plundered, subdued, and enslaved the millions who have the curse of discord and apathy on them." " To me," said I, 66 it appears that concord is the more powerful, that she is jea- lous and vindictive, and always employs discord as her agent of vengeance and punishment: for those who neglect or refuse to cherish and adore her, she forthwith inspires with the spirit of dis- cord, who rages thenceforward without control amongst her devoted victims. My impression is, that discord has no power, if the people have pru- dence and good sense, that she is only the offspring of their folly and weakness. But heavenly concord is all-benign, all-mighty, all-bountiful. She is now rapidly on the march through the populations of the earth, in the school-master's train, along with intelligence, sagacity, prudence, sense of wrongs, and resolution!! Our wrongs and afflictions are beyond endurance, a rapacious and inhuman Aristocracy is the source of all. We are determined no longer to bear this fell incubus that broods on us, paralyses our energies, devours theIN DUBLIN. 93 fruit of our country, and individually reviles and persecutes us. A look awry, an ambiguous mono- syllable, is in their eyes a subject of pain and penalty. The people dare not deprecate, much less reprobate an aggression or injury however gross or cruel. 4 The greater the truth, the greater the libel,' insist the wig blocks. Thus the blackest villain, the most reckless ruffian may stalk abroad, unabashed, uncontrolled; commit the basest crimes officially or otherwise, and no one dare caution the suffering community, for the greater the crime, the stronger the protection. Such is our condition, with our good Aristocrats, and I am sure you are not much happier in yours, the rebuke or rather the reproach cast at them by his late Majesty, and afterwards by the Marquess of Anglesey convince me of the fact." uWe happy in our Aristocracy!!" exclaimed my Mentor, 4 4 with some honourable exceptions, a worse never afflicted a people, or disgraced a country ; sluggish, ignorant, inhuman ; apes and parasites of your gentry (who justly despise them), and the ready-made unmerciful tyrants and oppressors of their own poor countrymen. Gam- bling, mortgaging, pawning, borrowing prodigals; who never pay, release, or redeem; fox-hunters and racers, not better educated than their groom, and less noble and generous than the animal they whip and spur. They look on the poor people94 THE SOJOURNER with rigour, hatred and contumely. They consi- der them an inferior race, made of baser elements; and treat them accordingly, with cruelty, contempt and inhumanity. Jobbers, rack-renters, drivers and spendthrifts, they savagely hunt down and persecute, fleece and plunder their unfortunate tenantry. 44 The slaves in the colonies are infinitely better treated than the tenantry of Ireland ; the former are well housed, homed, clothed, and fed: the latter are left to die of famine and pestilence, in the midst of plenty, the fruit of their own labour, but which they dare not touch. And my life for it, the planter does not hold his black slave at a more rigid and brutal distance, than the Irish landlord, his white free-born fellow native, and fellow subject, a man, in many instances, morally and physically, and for every humane and generous virtue, infinitely the superior of his arro- gant tyrant. The Irish landlord thinks it a kind of contamination to meet, or speak to his poor tenant. Accordingly, the person or barred man- sion of the great man cannot be approached by the poor tenant, without license and previous notice, unless he comes to pay rack-rent, nor by any other poor, on any account whatever. " Where will you find the weary traveller, the friendless, and disabled, or the houseless child of want ? not at castle rack-rent, for the dogs wouldIN DUBLIN. 95 be set at them there; but regaled and cheered at the hospitable dwelling of the honest tenant, who delights cto press the bashful stranger to his food,' and indulge the luxury of doing good." "What!" I observed; 44 are not the Irish gentry hospitable? at least I heard so."—46 Yes," said he, " they revel and debaueh among them- selves incessantly; while the starving widow and orphan, cry in vain for a morsel, at their iron gates- Any one that pleases, may call that hos- pitality : such is the character of the Irish land- lord, such their treatment of their poor tenantry. But their inhumanity has its reward. The people hate and detest them. If a poor man saw one of those squireens by accident approach him, he would turn terrified another way, as from some dsemon or evil spirit from which he dreaded some supernatural harm. Are you now surprised that Ireland is so convulsed and disorganised, while the Aristocracy are so inhumane and immoral; and so tyrannical and offensive to a generous, high-minded, and sensitive people V "The fine people of this country, it must be admitted," said I, " are horribly treated—your gentry are a vile and odious race. I see not in them one redeeming quality; they * are neither patriotic, nor national. Every thing Irifeh is ab- horrent and disgusting to them; their native lan- guage, their native costume,- native produce and96 THE SOJOURNER industry, all these objects, so dear and interesting to man are spurned and neglected by your Irish gentry. Thus are they singly and specially degrad- ed, the scoff and scorn of the surrounding country. The gentry of the other two branches of the king- dom have done something for themselves; my countrymen forced rights and privileges from King John ; the Scotch wrested theirs from James and his Aristocracy ; but your slugs have done nothing for themselves or others, but remained as they ever were, and ever will be, if they can, the drones and hornets of their country ! Vexing, devouring, and demoralizing the people." " The crimes and vices of the Aristocracy," said my Mentor, " are countless as the sand. Every thing they do tends to aggrandise themselves and degrade the people. All their laws tend to this. Partial and unjust, indulgent to the rich, and oppressive to the poor. I have already spoken of some of those laws, such as that of hereditary peerage, primogeniture, poor laws, game laws, and subletting act; another law more, singularly impious, and oppressive as the rest, yet remains to be touched on. " The forest law, under cloak and colour of which the Aristocracy lay waste and depopulate whole districts of the country, for their own pre- cious amusement and diversion; individuals, following this, enclose thousands of acres in oneIN DUBLIN. 97 vast demesne, while the people for whose suste- nance God created the land, and the fruits of it, are turned on the highway, to become idlers, vagabonds and a nuisance to the country. But this is the fault of a rapacious, tyrannical Aris- tocracy, not of the oppressed, persecuted people. 4 4 These laws are a remnant of that brutal feu- dalism which prevailed in days of yore; when barbarians ruled the unhappy land ; and the people were considered no better than serfs, and slaves and villains, and were handed over to every successor as part and parcel of the produce of the soil; when brutal rulers, had absolute power over the people—life, limb, and organ; committed wantonly the most revolting excesses, and claimed the bridal night of every subject's daughter, Will Britons suffer any vestige to remain of such brutal barbarity, any trace of them is humiliating and slavish, and not to be endured amongst high- minded valiant freemen," " My countrymen," said I, " will surely abolish those foul vestiges of slavery," The usual hour having arrived, I took leave of my Mentor and parted; dined and took tea. The company consisted of the little red-wig Milesian woman, two or three Scotch and English ladies, and some others, I do not remember to have- met before. Little red-wig was on her pivots; assert- ing the high pedigree, and puissant blood of the F98 THE SOJOURNER O'Briens. " I mention it," said she, very stur- dily, " we are so ancient, that compared to us, Adam was but a mushroom."—" Indeed," said the Scotch lady, " there can be no doubt of your antiquity; there is ample evidence that you are of the old stock, so withered, so effete, waspish, and impertinent, you must be a great credit to the Milesian race of O'Briens."—"That worthless, vapid little crew," said another lady, " of apos- tates: false to their friends, as truants to their country."—" Be it known to you," said red-wig, 64 that I had a great-grandsire, a loyal chieftain, who always had in his house, a gallows and exe- cutioner, in full work through the year; for my great family ever hated and pursued the wild Irish."'—"Oh I" said the English lady, "how shocking this! What must poor Ireland not have suffered from this wicked race! but they have met their fate, they are no longer traced in the county of Clare, They are at their level as low as hedgers and ditchers."—"I knew one of the country cousins, some time ago," observed another lady, " they used to call him the flow'ry barrister." —" He was very eloquent, I suppose said the Scotch lady. " No," replied another lady, " but he could not earn powder for his wig; and to make sure of it, he became a miller. But he used to make two motions every day he went to court»" —" Aye," said a witty young dame at the window,IN DUBLIN. 99 ua motion iw; and a motion out—" Oh!" said the English lady, "you are too severe, Miss."— u But," said another, " he has retired on his for- tune."—" On his misfortune you mean," said the young wit. " Is your wig, Madam, Irish manufacture?" said an arch lady in company, addressing little red-wig, of the great family of the O'Briens. " No," said she, " God forbid!" The Scotch lady shook her head significantly : 64 You Irish women," said she, " never think of wearing the produce of the Irish loom, or in any way to relieve your poor starving country-men. Your tabinet is prized all over Europe. But Irish merit is like a prophet, never gets credit in its own country." What a severe and just reproach on the Irish. At this stage of the tea-table I withdrew to my chamber, determined to meet my Mentor next day as usual, ###### They did meet in the usual way, but a very strange and unaccountable alteration was visible in Saul's deportment and countenance. No wonder, he had by that day's mail received a letter from Rose Laban, whom he had thought no more; stating that she was alive and well, and had arrived in London, from the Continent, where she had been secreted by her father, and pressing the return of her lover from Ireland without delay. The news seemed totally to subdue him, and to100 THE SOJOURNER absorb all his thoughts and senses. By fits and starts, he] appeared electrified. He said no more than, pulling out a purse, " My friend, I must depart, take this, leave your address at my lodgings; you shall see me, perhaps, at no long interval, for the present we part, farewell!" Now Saul has departed from our shores. The reader may not be displeased at some interesting particulars of his parentage, life, manner, and character, previous to his arrival in Ireland: his humane and amiable disposition; his fortitude under the most acute of mental sufferings, the loss for a season of his beloved Rose; and his constant and unalterable affection for her. Be it known to the gentle reader, that our hero, the observer, was the son of a Jew named Zachariah Saul, a rich broker in London, and Sarah his wife: they were both Israelites of the tribe of Benjamin, and re- markable for their primeval manners and habits; they lived in a little obscure court, the place of their nativity, in the vicinity of St. Paul's. For several years they had no issue; however, at length when far advanced in life, it pleased God to bless them with a son, whom they called Jonathan. He might be considered the child of dotage ; at least born in old age, and was therefore idolized by his parents. But Jonathan was an original even from the cradle. He had laboured under an impediment of speech from his infancy, and some-IN DUBLIN. 101 times articulated with extreme difficulty; parti- cularly if strongly excited, and to a keen sense of his infirmity, might be attributed a sort of settled melancholy which overcast his mind. When a child he generally confined himself to mono- syllables, and frequently would sit whole hflurs without uttering a word, his eyes cast downwards, his hands hanging listlessly at his sides, and his head drooped to his breast. At such times, he wTould start, and sigh, and sometimes weep; but when asked by his fond mother, why he did so, hiding his face in her maternal bosom, as if from conscious delicacy, he relapsed into his habitual gloom and silence. The only being to whom Jonathan unbent, was Rose Laban, a young Jewess, who for her beauty was styled by the Jewish host, the Rose of Sharon.# She was the daughter of a deceased kinswoman, and had been adopted in her infancy by Zacha- riah and Sarah, who were then childless. How- ever, when Jonathan was born they scrupled to put away the little orphan; and the two children were brought up together. Rose Laban was four years older than Jonathan: she was an acute warm-hearted child; and from feelings of gratitude towards Zachariah and Sarah, * Sharon,—1 Chronicles ch. v.—from the Hebrew word Sharah to give forth—Latin, emittere—beautiful pasturage, Sec.—Sharon, the Country of Roses, as celebrated by the Jews.102 THE SOJOURNER she entirely disposed herself to please and humour the peculiarities of their son/to whom she became a second self. Such was the sympathy between them, the maiden's'heart was, as it were, the transcript of Jonathan's thoughts. She was at once his nurse ai^d play-mate: when she beheld him silent and sorrowful, she would exert every endearing and winning art to cheer him: and when struggling for utterance would help and relieve him, by anticipating his words; and so intense was her sympathy, she was often seen to weep for him. These sweet solicitudes had their natural effect on the youthfiff, and sensitive heart of Jonathan. He was so fascinated, that without her,, he thought the whole world a blank to him. Suffice it the maid grew in grace and beauty as in years; and made Jonathan a complete adept in the art o£ love. She had now attained her eighteenth year, at which period Jonathan was between fourteen and fifteen years old ; he always loved his young benefactress passionately; but singular in many respects, there was no medio- crity in the particular feelings of this boy: he carried all to extremes, more especially his love for her. To quote the appropriate lines of Britain V matchless bard. There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him; he had I00V&Ift DUBLIN. 108 Upon it till it could not pass away ; He had no breath, no being, but in hers ; She was his voice ; he did not speak to her, But trembled on her words ; she was his sight, For his eye followed hers, and saw with hers, Which colour'd all his objects :—he had ceased To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all: upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously—his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony. Lord Byron. But Jonathan, as we have observed, was en- thusiastic in every thing : he had an ardent, en- quiring mind ; and when a child at the day-school where he acquired the first rudiments of his edu- cation, he had been dubbed the Book-worm! He made considerable progress in the classics, and was tolerably conversant in the Hebrew language, which he studied under the instructions of his father, who of course was a perfect master of that language. But a remarkable circumstance,—Jo- nathan's attention was particularly attracted by the old Jewish Testament; this he studied with sincere and singular diligence, and committed to memory many sublime passages of Isaiah, the royal prophet and poet of Israel. Having so far introduced this eccentric youth to our readers, we shall now proceed to delineate kis character more fully. In the month of April, in the year--, on104 THE SOJOURNER Easter Saturday evening, the sabbath of the Jews, when Zachariah and Sarah his wife, accompanied by Rose Laban and Jonathan, were returning home from the synagogue, they observed a mul- titude of people collected in the street at some short distance from the place of their residence; they stopped : a venerable old man, of a subdued countenance and manner, was addressing the crowd. At that instant, as if surprised or asto- nished, he paused, and cast his eyes round; then, with an air and aspect of fervent devotion, raising them towards heaven, he with peculiar energy repeated the following remarkable passage, taken from Esaias, the prince of prophets: " Who hath believed our report?"* This inti- mated that this venerable personage was a preacher of Christianity. Zachariah the Jew was horror- struck ! and, without waiting to hear any more, he clutched Sarah, who leaned upon him, closer to his side; they pushed forward, and hurried on, without speaking, till they found themselves at the entrance of the court where they resided. Here taking breath, they both turned round, but not seeing Jonathan or the maiden, Zachariah, with staring eyes, stood mute for about a minute ; then addressing Sarah, 44 Woman/* said he, tre- mulously, u Where is the lad?'' meaning his son. —She clasped her hands, and gazing anxiously * Isaiah, chap, liii, verse 1,IN DUBLIN. 105 about her, " Oh!" cried she, in an agony of sus- pense, 44 Jonathan, my first-born! thou who hast taken away thy mother's reproach, where art thou ? my child, my child!" The noise of a tu- mult at a distance filled them with serious appre- hensions for the safety of their son; but Rose La- ban soon appeared in view, waving her kerchief. Zachariah not perceiving Jonathan, his face as- sumed a livid hue; he grasped his staff. Poor old Sarah's fainting spirit almost died within her, and had not her husband's arm supported her tottering frame, she would have fallen to the ground. The maiden came running towards them, her agitation was depicted in her counte- nance ; the broken sentences of Jonathan! Father, to the rescue !! to the rescue!!! was all she could utter. Zachariah made an effort to speak-- " Daughter," cried he, " hath evil befallen the lad?" However, Jonathan, who had just come up safe and sound, in his own person answered the question. The youth hurried forward, lead- ing a bleeding bare-headed stranger by the hand, and in great agitation rushed by ; he motioned to his parents to follow him. The little party arrived safe at the paternal dwelling in the court, and with the assistance of a latch-key, soon gained admittance. Jonathan then quickly closed the door, and ran a strong iron bar across it, with f 2106 THE SOJOURNER which it was usually secured by night. This was all the action of a moment. A buzz of several voices from without was now heard, and the noise of footsteps approached in thick array. Open the door, was rudely and voci- ferously repeated, accompanied with a loud knock- ing. By this time the stranger, exhausted from loss of blood, fainted in Jonathan's arms, who, to- gether with Rose Laban, had been endeavouring to cheer and support him. Zachariah's disposition was naturally humane; nevertheless he seemed to hesitate how he should act; but Sarah, affected by the imploring looks of her son, yielded not more to them than to her own kindly feelings. "Master!" said she, speaking to her husband in a deep emphatic tone, such as seemed to com- mand the tide of feeling; " Master, the hunters are abroad, and a stranger, ill-treated by the way, hath taken shelter within thy dwelling; then, as the Lord liveth, surely thou wilt protect the man." The knocking at the door still continued with un- abated violence, and from a window in the porch Sarah could distinctly see that a mob had collected in front of the house. The ringleaders, now exas- perated by the silence within, and aware it was the abode of Zachariah the Jew, called him loudly and reproachfully by his name, and thus excitedIN DUBLIN. 107 anew the inflammatory passions of the rabble. 46 In with the door! down with the Israelite!!" burst simultaneously from the whole crowd. Sarah was standing at the casement in the porch: in great trepidation she threw open the window, and with an audible and solemn voice exclaimed, " Men of England! forbear!! We are innocent of offence in this thing: although, peradventure, the glory# hath passed from our house for a sea- son : while a remnant of the seed remaineth, the covenant with our father Abraham stand eth fast, which saith, ' I will bless them that bless thee, and curse them that curse thee !'f Then, perse- cute no more, I pray you," continued she, " but depart in peace." A party of police, headed by a chief constable, by this time arrived : the ring- leaders were taken into custody. The mob, influ- enced by Sarah's rhetoric, aided by the stronger arguments of the peace-officers, ceased farther hostilities. In the course of a few minutes the clamour subsided; the crowd gradually dispersed, and tranquillity was completely restored. Meanwhile the fainting stranger, who had been removed from the hall to an inner apartment, was lying on a bed, while Jonathan and Rose Laban kindly stood beside him, administering all the * The glory of the Lord in the tabernacle, called by the Jews, the Shagira. f Genesis, chap. xii. verse 3.108 THE SOJOURNER comfort and consolation in their power. Zach$- riah and Sarah, searching for their son, appeared at the chamber door, but stopping short, Zacha- riah called Jonathan. The youth came forward : he essayed to speak, but in the agitation of the moment, the hesitation in his speech prevented utterance, and the only word he could articulate was, "Father!" Sarah, the affectionate mother, touched with the embarrassment of her beloved son, here interposed. She called forward the maiden, and peeping from behind her husband, as she stood at his back, in a kindly tone asked, " How fares the man ?" But Rose Laban, com- prehending the meaning expressed in Jonathan's significant looks and gestures, maintained a mournful silence. Sarah was a being of impulse, even in her old age, and, apprehending the worst, she was about to enter the chamber. " Nay," cried Zachariah sternly, waving his hand ; "we know not ought of this stranger, whether he be Jew or Gentile." "Father!" said Rose Laban, addressing Zachariah, "Father," said she, im- pressively ? " he is thy neighbour; and what saith the law given by Moses? the greater saint." The Major's lady, how- ever, thought differently, and no entreaty could prevail upon her ever again to join the Society of the Modern Pharisees of the city of Shim-Sham, Now, to pass over some things which would be ir- relevant to our purpose, it may not be deemed amiss to give a brief sketch of the life and cha- racter of this officer's lady. She was the daughter of a dignitary in the Church of England, who resided at-, in -shire. Her father, Dean # # # # was a practical Christian; who, in doing all the good he could, and simply keeping close to truth and piety, walked humbly in this life ; and brought up his family in the love and fear of God, and a pattern of excellence to all who had the good for- tune of their valuable acquaintance. He had three sons and two daughters; his eldest son had taken holy orders, and was ap- pointed chaplain of---; the two younger also embraced liberal professions, of which they became ornaments. The eldest daughter, who was celebrated for her beauty, -was married to a peer; and the youngest, (the subject of this me- moir) no less distinguished for her personal at-THE MODERN PHARISEES. 133 tractions, at an early age, with the consent of her father, bestowed her hand on Major # # # *. It was a love-match on both sides, and so fondly devoted were they to each other, even after mar- riage, they were called the " lovers." But, in the course of some time, the Major's constitution became impaired, and his native air having been prescribed as best suited to the establishment of his health, he obtained leave of absence from his regiment, and taking his lady with him, went to Ireland, on a visit to his mother, who was a widow, and lived in the sea-port town of--. Mrs. Flint was also an inhabitant of this place, and being related to the family, she was noticed by them, and occasionally received as a guest at their house. Meanwhile, the Major s mother, anxious to shew every kind and hospitable attention to her daughter-in-law, prevailed on the lady to accom- pany her to an entertainment at the house of a friend. At this period, the Major was pronounced convalescent, but it was not yet deemed advisable for him to venture abroad; and, in the confidence of unsuspecting friendship, Mrs. Flint was re- quested to sit with him in the absence of the fa- mily. She did so, and finding from the conver- sation of this good gentleman, how dearly and devotedly he loved his wife, this demon of dis- cord, seeing the opportunity she so much longed134 THE MODERN PHARttSEES, for, of glutting her malignity, readily embraced it, and said—" But, yet, dear sir, while this very dear wife, you so highly prize as the paragon of all the virtues, amuses herself at routs and parties, and indulges in all the revelries of fashionable dissipation, she leaves an invalid husband at home, to take care of himself as well as he can. This is, forsooth, conjugal love with a witness!" " But, my dear madam," replied the Major, with emotion,—44 recollect, that it was at the ur- gent request of my mother, and with my consent, that my wife went to this entertainment." " Sir!" rejoined Mrs. Flint,—" if the lady felt as she ought towards her husband, no entreaty should induce her to absent herself from him, even for one hour! I know,"—continued the in- sidious serpent, with unutterable looks of crocodile tenderness,—" I know how affectionately, how dutifully, I always acted by my own poor dear man. If only his finger ached, I was miserable, so ac- tive was my sympathy to all his wants and wishes. But, oh! the wives of the present day, seem to have married only to speculate on the death or infirmity of their deceived and deluded husbands. But, my dear Major,"—added she most gravely and emphatically—66 my dear Major, far be it from me to insinuate any thing tending to disturb your happiness, or to damp that confidence, how- ever misplaced, which an over-fond husband mayTHE MODERN PHARISEES. 135 have reposed in his wife; it is all your affair ; you alone are interested. But then, reflect, that your wife is young and handsome; she is also rather gay (I hope innocently so) ;—and the particular attention of a certain military gallant, in this gar- rison, to a certain married lady, has been re- marked.-1 scarcely know—(continued she)— whether I ought, or ought not to mention, that this military gallant is oyer head and ears in love with a certain Major's lady, and they are to meet to-night, by appointment, and dance together at the ball: there may be no harm in all this-—per- haps not: but the thing is suspicious every way ; great temptation on both sides; a gay glittering officer, and a young beautiful woman. I mean no harm, dear Major; but you have heard, and, per- haps, experienced, that stolen pleasures are the sweetest. In all events,I say, no harm to watch.'' This insidious communication was made by Mrs. Flint, under a promise of secresy, which she had extorted from the Major; but a faithful domestic, who happened to be in an adjoining room, over- heard the scandalous fabrication, and by reporting it to the injured lady, afforded her an opportunity of establishing her innocence, which she promptly and easily did, to the confusion and disgrace of her traducer; who was, from that moment, universally execrated, and the outcast of all society in the sea- port town of--.136 THE MODERN PHARISEES. As this woman filled so large a space in the world of malignity and wickedness, it may not be irrelevant to give the reader a faint outline of her general character; he is therefore informed, that Mrs. Flint's heart was as hard and rigid as her name callous to all the sympathies of suffering or kindness; she was unfeeling, ungrateful, ma- licious, malevolent, and delighted in deceit and duplicity. Envy and defamation were also pro- minent ingredients in her character she sighed at the prosperity of her neighbours; and, like the dog in the manger, pined at the enjoyment by others, of what she well knew to be utterly beyond her own reach. Her passion for slander was so inordinate, and her taste so exquisite, she spared neither age, sex, nor condition ; she was consi- dered a walking chronicle of all the intrigues, elopements; all the reports and whispers; every morceau of scandal, every little frailty, or faux pas of amiable weakness; all the love-fits, faintings, and family broils; the belle, the dove, the saint abroad; the slut, the kite, the demon at home ; all the foxes in lambskins, spiritual, temporal, cleric and lay, fair and unfair, with their sayings and doings, were the favourite objects of Mrs. Flint's acute and indulgent observations, and the farrago of her libel. From any one of those sweet and copious fonts, could she derive a pleasing anec- dote for every one; about every one; and as sheTHE MODERN PHARISEES. 137 took no trouble with the order or connection of words, the fair censor would crack a reputation and a concord in the same sweet breath, with equal success and facility. At church and love-feasts, her saintly bleat was the loudest; the wonder and emulation of her fellow hypocrites. Yet, with all those outward and visible signs, the smoothness and agility of her fingers were much suspected, and the shopkeepers of the city of Shim-Sham had a strict eye to her. With endowments so peculiar, so identical, who more fit than Mrs. Flint, to detect and report the sanctimonious villanies of schemers, knaves, cheats, and hypocrites ? for it is said, "seta thief to catch a thief We are asked, how is it possible a biped so per- verse and depraved in moral construction, could find her way into decent and honest society, in this all religious and virtuous metropolis \ Gentle reader, you count without your host, there was no such society then in the city of Shim-Sham. What- ever of honour, honesty, or virtue had theretofore appeared, among those misnomered the Elite, scanty as it may be, was gone and no where to be found; public opinion, the rights of humanity, and the stripes of guilty conscience had lost all their influence. Bigotry, false zeal, knavery and hypo- crisy bore absolute sway ; the haut ton had taken flight, or had degenerated into bigots, or fanatics.138 THE MODERN PHARISEES. Mrs. Flint, all accomplished as she was in the round of saintly abominations, could not long remain a silent or solitary spectator. She made a nearer advance, and became so susceptible that Cameleon-like she quickly caught the hue of the tribe. She hived and congregated : occasionally M rs. Flint gave various specimens of her power; it was seen with joy, that she could act the knave, the flirt, and deceiver to a nicety: that she could howl a saintly growl with the most practised of the Pharisees: that she could turn up the white of the eyes in prayer and piety, while her hand was in the next pocket, or in the poor box. All this was observed with the highest pleasure, her accession was deemed a host of strength! manna in the wilderness—and admitted a member nem. con. Such is the slight outline, we have received of the amiable Mrs. Flint: such her numerous and rare qualities, so congenial to those of her own stamp, and her final reception into the pandemonium of the modern Pharisees, of the city of Shim-Sham. In giving the exploits of the redoubted Mrs. Flint, we have unavoidably digressed a little ; we now return to the subject, and remind the reader that we left this lady relating her " experience," at a congregated meeting of the Pharisees of Shim- Sham; which she concluded to the admiration of the whole assembly, having recounted over minutely all her evil doings, not omitting even theTHE MODERN PHARISEES. 139 slander of the Major's Lady. This she did to evince more strongly, that nothing short of a miracle could reclaim a being, so loaded with guilt and wickedness : the only artifice by which she could brazen out detection. After canting for some time, on what she styled her conversion, or change of heart! she stated, that being quite renewed in spirit, she now made it her business to exhort, and admonish other poor sinners ! but in so doing, had been sadly buffetted by Satan, ( who had still an eye to his old acquaintance,) for many and severe were the mortifications she endured, as she seldom got any thing for her pains, but reproach and scorn! Nay, on that very day, an incorrigible old Lady, (true blue,) whom she exhorted, had desired her to go about her business, for according to the Apostle Paul, " Women were not to 'preach /" This, she said, was the unkindest cut of all, but our sex never spare each other. The Apostolic quotation, however, caused a schism among the Pharisees, some being for, and others against the doctrine. Several elderly young Ladies, (meaning spinsters past their prime,) spoke with great volubility, but one who possessed real and extensive information on such points, abstained from saying much, and confined herself merely to an occasional observation, to give strength and variety to the dull and gabbling monotony. Another, a pious blue, who had the reputation of140 THE MODERN PHARISEES. being learned! and at this time, was studying Hebrew, for the purpose of reading the Scriptures in the original; but who formerly had been a novel reader, and was still a great admirer of Mary Wolstoncroft's " Rights of Woman !5' in- sisted that the interdict on she preachers, had been misinterpreted, or perverted in the translation, by the ignorance of the times, and the partiality of criticism : or rather by the envy and monopoly of those called 64 Lords of the Creation" who arro- gate to themselves the privilege of expounding divinity, and preaching the word. This polemical discussion, produced a fresh de- bate, and the learned lady, still stickling for the capabilities of her sex, again held forth. " Oli! deeply, darkly, scripturally blue ! Wliy do not all, oh woman I bow to you?" But a little elderly man, with a sour counte- nance, who hitherto sat silent in a corner, rising up suddenly, brought the argument to a conclu- sion, by observing, that it seemed to him, as if in the pious nineteenth century, all was turned topsy- turvy ! for that some canting females thought, spoke, and acted, as if they fancied they were a superior order of beings, designed by nature to dictate, govern, and take the lead! and that men, the sole and exclusive patentees of empire here below, aye " Lords of the Creation," (the little man sturdily insisted), were mere creatures sentTHE MODERN PHARISEES. 141 into the world, only to yield homage and obedi- ence to the women, to admire them, and to wor- ship them; and for their dear sake, to toil, and endure, and to be for ever * Hacknied in business, wearied at that oar, Which thousands once fast chained to, quit no more.5* Which perversion, and usurpation, I will never submit to," vehemently concluded the little man. Another weekly meeting, in due course, was held by the Modern Pharisees of Shim Sham, at Miss Sanctity's, an old maid in- place, at the north side of the town. This pious dame of more than three half scores, now that grayish locks, and faded cheeks, had too significantly told her, that all hopes of the preferment she liked dearest, had for ever vanished, and that side looks, sly ogles and flirtations no longer availed in at- tracting or fixing admiration, she became as sleek and affected a devotee as any of the canting fra- ternity. A reverend gentleman of the established church, who had been silenced, or suspended by a certain late archbishop, was present on this occasion. He was very popular among the Pha- risees, and having made his congee, he sat prac- tising most sanctimonious looks, and remained without uttering a word for some time, the spirit being yet unpropitious. At length a small Protestant prayer-book, en- * Cowper.142 THE MODERN PHARISEES. titled the "Week's Preparation," or a "Com- panion for the Altar," which was on the chimney- piece, attracted the attention of his reverence. He started up, and looking at the title page for about a minute; he cast an angry glance around, and with great vehemence of tone and manner demanded. Whose is the book ? but stay, a nearer look— Alas ! too plain B, double O, K, book. Death and destruction !-— T. Moore. The meek preacher of the word of peace, re- peated his interrogatory, with redoubled violence and agitation : and without further consideration flung the innocent book into the fire still loudly demanding to whom it belonged ? All pleaded ignorance, no one would acknowledge the book! and Miss Sanctity, apprehensive lest she might be suspected as the owner, in voice of Stentor, vowed to God, she would not pollute her fingers by touching it! The little man with a sour countenance, who the last evening, had pronounced a sort of Phi- lippic against some elderly young ladies ; and was particular in his attendance on this night, now losing all patience, stood up without ceremony, and abruptly announced himself a " seeker!" but ♦ The il Week's Preparation/' was burned or torn, or both, by the hands of a Protestant Clergyman, in the city of. Shim Sham. No fact more notorious than this.THE MODERN PHARISEES. ' 143 after the scene he had just witnessed, he said, " he could no longer waver." These words ex- cited attention: the ranting hypocrites evinced and struggled with various conflicting emotions ; the stripes of guilty conscience were evidently galling them, and for the first time, they appeared sensible to the stings of remorse, and the re- proaches of damning recollections...... The little man continued :— 64 Opposition," he said, " always produced the contrary effect upon him, particularly if any glaring inconsistency, was connected with it!..... that he had been bred a Protestant of the esta- blished church, and studied theology in his youth, being then intended for holy orders : but although he had wavered, and fallen away from the religion of his fathers! he well knew, and duly appre- ciated the pious doctrines contained in the ' Week's Preparation.' It was," he said, " a book which owed its origin to the best works of the great Reformers, some of whom had died martyrs for the true faith! Yet, this holy and orthodox book—a book of piety and prayer, worthy of the acceptation of all true Christians, had just now been publicly denounced as an abomination, by a minister of the gospel! and condemned in an assembly of persons styling themselves saints, and to the scandal of all true believers, burned to ashes............144 THE MODERN PHARISEES. " Had it been one of Carlisle's atheistical Bro- chures, it could not have been treated with more contumely, nor spoken of with greater horror, than it had been in the present assembly of pro- fessing Christians!! But profession and mere outward show will no longer avail: a day of trial and retribution awaits you. You have a black catalogue of impieties to account for to holy re- ligion, which you have violated, and to the peace of mankind which you have disturbed. Woe unto you, hypocrites, you have ran a long career, but the vengeance of the offended Almighty, that neither slumbers nor sleeps, will in due time over- take you. However," continued the little man, " as to this pious book, the Week's Preparation, it could be proved, if the doctrine contained both in its prayers, and meditations, were compared with Scripture, that this identical book is just as ortho- dox as any others of the kind usually contrasted with it, by the zealots of a certain religious party. This same religious party, had endeavoured of late years, to erect itself into a kind of papal supremacy over the opinions and actions of mankind, which I for one," said the little champion, never can nor will endure." But this was not all, for he again repeated, it could be proved, and chapter and verse might be given, that this said book, so cried down and reviled, was the very spring and source of all the pious tracts and productions ofTHE MODERN PHARISEES. 145 tlie present day. Yet sold and published by the compilers, for their own pelf and benefit." In short, this was the abominable imposture to which he alluded. " When," said he, 661 look around, and see the peace and feeling of the Community disturbed and violated by knaves, hypocrites, bigots, and fanatics; when I see the foulest and basest deeds perpetrated in the name of holy re- ligion ; not a principle of the holy gospel observed none of its divine commandments obeyed; even the ministers of its promulgation setting the worst examples, and by their conduct evincing either that there is no religion at all, or if there be, that they are the very worst vehicles for its convey- ance. Seeing all this, I have resolved to hold all such impieties in utter abhorrence, to abandon for ever all those workers of imposture, hypocrisy and deceit, to cultivate and diffuse the charities of the heart; and to promote peace, happiness, and brotherly love among my fellow-creatures. This is my determination, on it will I actso saying, this champion of truth, charity, and pure Chris- tianity, took his leave and departed. In conclusion of this article, we can only say, that the modern Pharisees of Shim-Sham, con- tinue as usual in the same outward display of sanctity, and may be found, sometimes at conven- ticles, praying aloud, sometimes in the public streets admonishing vagrants, (not forgetting the H146 THE MODERN PHARISEES. greetings in the market-places) and again, meet- ing together at each others houses, frequently to forward the views of some crafty knave amongst them. However, it appears, that of late, this society, from various causes, has been thinned of many of its members. Some gave up the ghost, others losing their vocation, ratted and "back- slided," and returned, like the stripped daw, to those they had before spurned and deserted; they frequented parties, balls and plays, and joined cordially in every fashionable and unfashionable dissipation. More, since Catholics obtained the rights of citizens, thinking ascendancy had got a mortal blow, it could not recover ; a bear's hug, that completely strangled it:—in high dudgeon sold house, land, all; and expatriated themselves, with the hearty consent of every friend to the peace, morals, and religion of the country. And many, who had assumed religion and sanctity as the guise of crime and iniquity; not being long able to sustain knavery and hypocrisy, were soon discovered and expelled, with every mark of dis- grace and infamy; in the foremost rank of whom was the notorious Mrs. Flint of cheating, lying and slandering celebrity. The consequence of all this was, that the few sincere and truly honest, for such there were even in this society, finding how much they were duped and deceived by theTHE MODERN PHARISEES. 147 rogues and impostors in it, abandoned with horror and shame, and jfbr ever, the modern Pharisees of the city of Shim-Sham. But the most reckless of the miscreants, whom dread and terror of their crimes, had driven into perpetual and voluntary exile, was the all aban- doned, all vicious Mr. Somebody, that paragon of past sinning and affected piety; who had re- peatedly picked the pockets of the congregation, and robbed the poor box, finally having embezzled the public charity, together with the entire of the funds of the society to whom he was treasurer, secretly absconded to America. How many similar characters do we meet every day, if not in act, at least in heart? The laws of our truly free country prevent their open com- mission of crime, but in the sight of the never- sleeping Judge, all their wily intents and purposes are clearly noted. Against such characters, the young and guileless ought chiefly to be put on their guard, as from inexperience and innocence, they are most liable to fall victims to the ungodly machinations of hypocrisy. If in one instance the above memoirs tend to prevent such an occurrence, the author shall not regret having wielded the pen of satire in such a cause. Religious truth when exhibited in chaste simplicity, however it may of itself attract the homage " of the unper- verted" mind, must still be carefully divested of148 THE MODERN PHARISEES. the meretricious clothing wherewith the malicious perfidy of unbelief would invest it. This essay, if successful to this end, in however small a degree, shall not be considered either by its reader or author as profitless or unnecessary at such a period of society as the present.LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA.LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. Si quis me commorit Melius non tangere clamo.—Horace* Fair as the glittering waters, Thy Emerald banks that lave, To me thy graceful daughters, Thy generous sons are brave. For their dear sakes I love thee, Ma-vourneen tho' unseen, Bright be the sky above thee, Thy Shamrock ever green, My own Green Isle.—Bernard Barton. No species of reading can impart more amuse- ment, interest, and instruction, than a true and faithful delineation of the human character. But when this character appears, as in most cases, under a variety of shades ; light, and black, and dusk ; the task of accuracy is not easy; for in the anxiety to be just, and to exhibit a true picture, many traits of attractive and amiable merits may be suppressed, and many of those specks and foibles, inseparable from the best of us, involun- tarily brought to view. In such a dilemma,152 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. where strict justice is so inaccessible, the artist will exercise his humanity, temper the rigour of impartiality with a spice of mercy, and where virtues and merits are predominant, he will give them fall and due sway, and cease to search too nicely for obscure, or trackless blemishes. No man lives without his faults, and he is happiest who has the fewest. We do not bespeak this lenity in behalf of the subject particularly before us, it needs it not: "be just and fear not/' is the proper motto of the Kerry people. The Kerry regiment formed part of that force, which the evil genius of bad men, and bad times, made necessary in this country, of unparalleled misfortune and misrule. As we mean soon to turn to this subject; and speak of the habits and discipline of this militia more at large, we shall for a while leave them ; and present tlie reader with an outline of the cha- racter of one corps whose humanity, and exem- plary merits form a relief to the vices and pro- fligacy of a certain licentious branch of one of the remainder. The following professes to be no more than a skeleton ; but dry and meagre as it may appear, it may not be unpleasant to the English reader to take even a light and cursory view of the merry frisks, the harmless foibles, and the manly in- genuous eccentricities of the true Irish character.life in the irish militia. 153 The Kerry people are of the true born stock. They love their country, each other, and all man- kind. The human face divine, in any shape or hue, is a sufficient passport to the eager and anti- cipating generosity of the Kerryman's prover- bially kind Irish heart. Spite of pain, persec- - tion, and the accumulating tyranny of centuries, they have preserved their native language, habits, and high mind. Their love of learning is com- mensurate with their other exuberant qualities. All Europe is aware what shoals of sound and radical scholars they annually send to our uni- versity. If the Augustan age lives on earth, it is in Kerry. From the highest to the lowest the classic flame illumines them. They eat and drink, muse and think, love and sigh, live and die, more classico! Latin, as well as Irish, seems to them an essential vernacular. It is the language of their fireside; their tete-ci-tSte, their tea-table, and their market; and which, animated with genial sparks of the dear native tongue; in the field of battle, fires the invincible impetuosity of the Irish heroes, while bravely and generously fighting the battles of their common country, in the same field with their brave and high-minded English fellow- subjects. Even the quadrupeds in Kerry know Latin. Good English reader, smile not! a true bill—every favourite horse and lap dog in Kerry has his Latin nomen, prenomen and cognomen, as h 2154 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. well as any grandee of Roman greatness; and he understands them all, as well as you do roast beef, or cheese of Gloster. But the Kerry ladies! who that knows, but admires, loves, and esteems them. The French ladies may be gay, volatile, artful, and insinuating —the English sedate, sombre, prudish, grave as Cardinals ; but oh ! the Kerry ! they are sweet- heart, and soul, and endearment; naivette, in- genuous, lovely ; the light, and life, and charm of their society. The human character would appear in very re- pulsive shades, if referred solely to that of certain --northern redoubts, of a celebrated corps of Irish militia. The body itself, and all who disreputably figured in it, are now long gone by, and the subject of history; we therefore feel 110 hesitation or delicacy in exhibiting it to view ; for the sake of decency and humanity, and the guidance of those, who in future times may deem it necessary to organize such a body. In what we shall say, truth shall be our guide, " nothing extenuating, nor aught setting down in malice." They are gone to the bourne whence no traveller returns. Peace to their shades! we war not with the dead. Our object is to instruct and caution their survivors, and those of any future period who may deem it necessary to em- ploy a local and temporary soldiery.LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 155 %i Evil communication corrupts good morals Never was maxim more clearly illustrated and preserved, than this in a redoubted Northern corps of Irish militia. Theretofore reproachless and respectable members of society, as husbands and fathers—one a veteran officer, covered with wounds in the service of his country, who fought and bled for the glory of England in the same field with the immortal Abercrombie, were cor- rupted, and alienated from family affections for a while, by the evil and dissolute example of redoubts # * * * * or mock men of war. Subalterns of that class made the barracks one hideous den of de- bauchery, from one end to the other. The mar- ried forgot they were husbands^or fathers, and the single that they were sons or brothers. Subordi- nates took the tone from their superiors, and the race of vice and corruption was run without rest or respect between them. The late Captain B-d, of bon-vivant noto- riety, abandoned his lawful wife and child, and consigned them to starvation; while he lived in open adultery with another woman, and in viola- tion of all shame and decency, fathered and reared his spurious offspring in the regiment. Another miscreant, a sprig of quality, deserted an amiable young wife with six children, whom he left to be supported by his poor old father and mother, while he dashed away at the regiment—one of the Lq*156 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. tharios of the night walk. This monstrous profli- gacy was practised by those mock men of war, openly, avowedly, in broad day, without fear or shame, or the slightest regard to decency or pub- lic opinion, or the honour or delicacy of wives and mothers—ladies of the regiment, who were morn- ing, noon, and night, shocked and insulted by the Bight and presence and ribaldries of prostitutes, in the walks, quarters, and parades of those dissolute Falstaffs. As if these practices were not sufficient^ ]y scandalous and vexatious, the redoubts estab- lished, under pain and penalty, a system of spy- ing and inspection—a sort of inquisition through the families, high and low. The domestic habits and condition of each and every were strictly- searched and sifted ; no one could wash his hands in his own apartments without note, comment, publicity and scandal. Breakfast, dinner, and supper were canvassed and watched, as if cri- minal. Servants were menaced, intimidated and examined, as if in courts-martial—" Come tell me, you, Sir, or by G— I'll put you in the guard- house. Come tell me what had your mas- ter and mistress for dinner to-day ? Who vi- sited them ? What did they say ? Who did they talk of ? How many glasses of wine did they take ? What did they say of each other ? Come, tell me this, or by the L--I'll have you drummed out, or tied up, and no mistake /" SuchLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 157 was the slang, scurrility, and mean conduct of those low bred, low educated rustics.# All their habits were of a piece—debauched, savage, and base; slanderers, profligates, and persecutors in the regiment—the disgrace of their country, the bane of the service, who had appropriated and provoked the just and severe observation of the brave and lamented Abercrombie, " that such ruffians were a scandal to the army, and terrible to all but the enemy." Such was the reprobate character and conduct of these contemptible creatures, and such be the indelible reproach called down on their heads and * Sample—(Regimental Anecdote.) —Some of those Ensigns, farmers' sons from the plough's tail, rude and savage as unlicked bears, were totally ignorant of delicacy, or even of common manners. On a company day at mess, when the officers were entertaining those of ano- ther regiment, at the close of dinner, when finger-glasses were intro- duced, three Ensigns of the redoubts appeared to have' never seen such appendages. One swallowed the contents of his glass in the presence of the astonished company. There was no checking that blunder, for it was soon over ; but the two other sprigs of war deliberately tucked up their sleeves, bared their wrists, and called for soap and towels, and be- gan washing their hands, and would have gone through the whole cere- mony were it not for the interference of Captain B—1—ee, an estimable gentleman of polished manners, acute wit, and cultivated intellect, who was sometimes necessitated to be, as it were, the schoolmaster of the corps. The literary qualifications of those braided and gilded peasants were in perfect keeping with the rest of their accomplishments. One of them on the recruiting service, on transmitting some recruits to head- quarters, writes to his commanding officer— Sur,—I enclose to you four roots (meaning recruits) fit for saurvess."158 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. memory from this honourable and heroic warrior. To prevent such results in future, should it be un- fortunately deemed necessary to employ a local militia, it should be officered from the line, and not committed to the drunken fox-hunting squi- reens of the district; who, most frequently, have worse morals and not better educations than their ostlers. Such has ever been, and must be the ruinous and scandalous result, fatal to the best interests of the public weal, and disgraceful to the authorities, of appointing to important functions persons of low education, base habits, and evil dispositions ; equally destitute of experience, honour, or huma- nity, or the delicacy and generosity of honourable men. Those persons, when covered and daubed with scarlet and gold lace ; swords, sashes, and all the harness of war, forget both themselves and their duty, spurn all discipline and control, abandon themselves to licentiousness, tyranny, debauchery, and every revolting excess, and make their own vulgar and vicious will the measure of right and wrong. The case before us is neither singular nor solitary; such instances daily occur, when sterling and notorious merit is superseded, and the spawns of power and patronage, the rude and ignorant sons of rich upstarts or ambitious aristocrats, who can purchase promotion, are preferred to gallantLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 159 veterans, made and bred to the service; expe- rienced, honourable, and reproachless men, who have grown gray fighting for their King and country, and drenching the field of battle with the blood of the enemy and their own. The result of a court-martial, held not a hundred years ago in the city of C--k, shews that even the line is not free from those enormous abuses and corruptions, and is no flattering sample of the conduct of scions of nobility; with no other merit or qualification than title and money, being shot up from the noxious hot-bed of wealth, luxury, pride, and ambition, to the command of one of the most distinguished regiments in his Majesty's service, to insult, malign, and tyrannise heroic veterans, bending alike under the weight of age and ser- vice, and universal esteem and approbation. This is the consequence of the avarice of selling promo- tions, and of the abuse of patronage, in preferring the unworthy, besides the cruel and inhuman justice and spoliation inflicted on meritorious seniors by such gross and grievous abuses. This evil system should have an end. It ought to be forthwith and for ever abolished. It is an ulcer in the heart of the public service univer- sally : its poison has pervaded every branch of it, operates as the bane of public prosperity, and is an incubus on the spirits and energy of every high-minded honourable man. This crying and160 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. monstrous abuse is the growth of habitual rapa- city and avarice, of a morbid passion for corrup- tion and monopoly in the titled class who admi- nister our affairs, with the sole view to their own pride and aggrandisement; they spurn and de- fraud merit, however high, in those they call the inferior race, and cherish and pamper the most worthless of their own. Should this be ? Shall it be? Will it be endured? Will the wisdom, intelligence, and justice of the realm suffer this profligate practice longer to continue the perpe- tual source of disgust, discontent, oppression, and alienation ? Who can be well affected to the inte- rests of a service, in which he is maligned, de- frauded, crampt, and overborne ? Maecenas, Augustus Caesar's premier, though both heathens, without the light or precept of Christianity, nor any pretensions to that holy faith, never adopted or promoted a man through avarice or ambition. The merits of the indivi- dual, not his money or patrician rank, were the object of that great man's predilection and en- quiry. But we live in the nineteenth century, under the boasted glorious constitution, laws, morality, and justice of the English aristocracy—of Chris- tian, Church-militant, psalm-singing, bible-vend- ing, tithe-hunting, mitred and croziered English aristocracy, the envy of surrounding nations, andLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA* 161 the admiration of the world!!! And every day our eyes are offended, and our feelings shocked at conduct directly the reverse of the virtuous hea- then's, and which the truly pious and moral Maece- nas and colleagues would blush at; to him no griev- ance was represented in vain; immediate redress followed the moment of its discovery. But we the British people sue and suffer and weep unheeded, spurned and repulsed by our felloiv-Christians ! Our rights withheld, or prospects marred ; our very me- rits are charged as crimes. Avarice, ambition, and nepotism occupy every avenue to promotion and preferment. The cries and sufferings of an afflicted people are disregarded by our pious, praying, Christian English ministers of the present day. O temporal O mores 11 O boastful Nineteenth Century! Is this liberty or fair dealing in a free country ? Here the wealthy booby or profligate alone is respected and patronised, and merit iu poverty, however distinguished, is spurned and repulsed. Money is revered ; poverty is trampled and despised ; and by a pious, religious, Christian Government, the golden calf is worshipped! With them the only way to patronage for a poor man, is through tergiversation and corruption. He must be a reckless maligner and oppressor of the peo- ple, especially the Irish. The jaundiced eye of the ministers must see the unequivocal stain upon162 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. him. In a word—he must be rotten before he rises. Though we have veered a little from the parti- lar subject, we have not departed much, nor intro- duced ought irrelevant or unnecessary. The army is but one branch of the public service at large, which in all its departments is pregnant with cry- ing and inveterate abuses. In treating of the vices and corruptions of any branch, parallel cases in others will obstinately obtrude, and must be ad- mitted. What is useful in one may be salutary to all; and the more clear, and close, and unsparing the exposure, the more sure and certain the reme- dy. The people have drank deep of the cup of oppression and misrule—we have quaffed it to the dregs. The aristocracy, who drive and goad, and dose us, and insist on every thing their own way, are indefatigable as ingenious in every day pre- paring new and more deleterious nostrums for our comfort and sanity. Yet a more loathing narcotic was never administered to the constitution of our affairs than the Irish Militia, or more subversive of good order. (Some few corps may be excepted.) The redoubted northern regiment was a sufficient proof: their conduct and character, generally, was one continued stream of disgust, cruelty, meanness, dissolute morals, and reprobation. A few particu- lar instances will suffice to demonstrate this propo- sition. When quartered in Dublin they made theLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 163 mess-room (which immediately adjoined the apart- ments of a Captain's wife) the arena of the gross- est licentiousness. The presence of the ladies of the regiment was no restraint; all delicacy and decency were set at nought; all that high pride and nice feeling towards the fair sex, for which the generality of Irishmen, and especially the mili- tary, get so much credit, were totally discarded by those worthies. This was carried to such dar- ing lengths, that one of the ladies, a Captain's wife,5* shocked and insulted by the scenes daily passing before her, made a formal complaint to the commanding officer at head-quarters. He submitted the matter to the Commander-in-chief. An in- vestigation was forthwith ordered, and a Court of enquiry was called. The delinquents, one and all, begged and craved pardon in the most abject terms; and, like snivelling school-boys, promised good behaviour for ever more. The General reluc- tantly yielded, for the present, and severely repri- manded them; expressed his horror and indig- nation at their disgraceful conduct; and cautioned * A lady entitled to respect; a lady whose mother was niece to the late eminent Provost Andrews, of Trinity College, Dublin; a lady, whose son is a Captain in the army; a lady, who had been in a higher and better military school than the Irish militia; a lady who passed many happy years with her family, in an old regiment of the line; a regiment distinguished for its meritorious military and moral charac- ter ; many of its members at the period adverted to, are still living— persons of high rank, who could be referred to, if necessary.164 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. them, for the future, to refrain and reform, on pain of the utmost displeasure of the Commander- in-chief. A scene not very different took place soon after, in country quarters at Lifford. Two profligate subalterns, whose bed-room was separated from this lady's by a thin board partition, in the absence of her husband, who was on regimental duty at--, brought into their apartment two common street- walkers. The whole night her feelings were shocked and outraged by conduct which may be well imagined, but need not be here described. The circumstance by some means reached the ears of the General commanding the district, and he sent the lady a message by an estimable Clergy- man,* to inform her, that if she would state to him her complaint in writing, he would bring the offen- ders to court-martial. On considering the matter, the lady's humanity was excited. She felt that to proceed to that extent would be the utter ruin of two insolent uneducated creatures, who had not a penny but their commissions to depend on. She hesitated, and forbore. Meantime the thing be- came known through the barracks; the delin- quents were alarmed; they rushed to the lady's apartments, begging pardon in every posture of humility and repentance. She would not see * The Rev. Mr. Knox.LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 165 them; they came again and again, weeping and wailing, the contempt and scorn even of the drum- boys; but she pretended to be still inexorable, and determined on the court-martial. However, she appointed eight o'clock in the evening to see them, and hear what they had to say. They arrived, and were announced. She had a large party of ladies with her at the time. She came to the door, at- tended by the whole host of her company. There, after indignantly reproaching them for their low breeding and audacity, she ordered them out of her sight; but they fell on their knees on the threshold; and in that posture, with hands supine, and brimful eyes, begged pardon of her, and all the ladies present, who made pommon cause with her, and felt that they and the entire sex were offended in her person. But some of the ladies less forgiving and patient than the rest, rushed forward, and with their fans and gloves lustily slapped the heroes right and left, chops and ears ; the whole barrack came out to witness the cere- mony. The two heroes in fine went off, loaded with shame, humiliation, and contempt, amidst hissings, hootings, and every mark of ignominy. The brutal inhumanity of certain redoubts was of a piece with their meanness and profli- gacy. On a Sabbath-day a goodly commanding officer was leading the men to Church. The day was wet and tempestuous; the rain fell in166 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. torrents—in the depth of winter; the way was broken up, and full of ruts and cavities; in many- parts overflown, and in all scarcely passable. The big drummer, as he went along, occasionally made a long step across a rut, to avoid tumbling tinto it, which caused the drum to bound a little. The Commander observed this, and swore if he did so again, he would severely punish him. However, the man soon met another rut, broad and deep, that entirely crossed his way, so he had no alter- native than to step as before; on which the poor man was instantly arrested, and ordered off to the black-hole. He was next day tried by a drum- head court-martial for disobedience of orders, and sentenced to two hundred lashes, every one of which he received. The officers in the first in- stance, remonstrated against the severity and cruelty of punishing the man under the circum- stances, but in vain; the thirst for inhumanity was so keen, the Commander was inexorable. They persisted : however, under the guise of leni- ty, and a solemn promise, if they would find the sentence, it would be only recorded, and never inflicted: those firm and manly officers, good easy souls, yielded, and sentenced the prisoner as above stated. This same commanding officer wantonly—in cold blood—cut down a man in the ranks. He did not entirely assassinate him; he only nearly severed the shoulder from hisLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 167 neck; and for this brutal outrage, the gentle Commander was dismissed! but through the abundant humanity of the highest quarter then known to us, he was restored!!! But he was a minion of power and patronage, and a bantling of the titled. Some time after his wise and merciful reinstatement, this good commanding officer, in the depth of winter, on a tempestuous day of hail, rain, and snow, ordered every woman and child in the barracks to be turned out at a moment's warning. The order was promptly executed; and every woman and child, young and old, sick and wrell, were driven out, like delinquents, malefactors, or enemies, to perish in the streets, by the inclemency of the weather, without shade or shelter to save them. This took place in Kevins Street Barracks, and no one could divine what was the cause of such remorse- less barbarity. The object of our hero's next ex- ploit was a poor drum-boy, who had been above seven months in hospital, under a severe liver- complaint. He was often during that period pro- nounced in imminent danger. However, he re- covered ; and while yet in a very feeble state of convalescence, he was discharged from the hospi- tal, and his humane commander forthwith ordered him on Thomas-street guard. It was pleaded for him, that he was scarce able to move, or carry his appointments ;—it would not do; the order was168 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. peremptory and absolute, and go he must. In the course of the day a friend of his came to see him, who, finding him in a very weakly exhausted state, prevailed on him to take a drink of porter to re- fresh him. This disagreed with the poor fellow; jt affected his head and stomach; and he was re- ported by a visitor, not aware of his sickly condi- tion, as drunk on guard. He was immediately put under arrest, and marched to barracks; tried by court-martial, and sentenced, in consideration of his illness, to the mitigated punishment o f five- and-twenty lashes. The humane commander was enraged at this lenity. He ordered the Court to sit again, and revise their finding. They being on their oaths, positively refused to alter the sen- tence, and strongly remonstrated against such ex- cessive cruelty. As in the former case, he solemn^ ly promised the punishment would not be inflicted. They would not believe, nor trust him. But, he at length succeeded in prevailing on the President,# under the same promise of lenity, to change the figures from 25 to 300 lashes ; which foul forgery was carried into execution, and the unfortunate victim suffered every lash. And for this most brutal perfidy and outrage, the goodly Commander * It is but justice to observe, that the President was a gentleman of humane and honourable disposition; but from motives of compassion to the prisoner, he yielded to a misplaced confidence in the pardon held out.LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 169 and the President were dismissed the service!!— Only dismissed!!! Yes, good English reader! dismissed, and no more!! * There was another hero of note, a tag-rag under- strapper, whom we have heard dubbed by redoubts, "the sweepings of a barrack room!" Be this as it may, he was, once upon a time, a goodly non- commissioned -, and by the wheel of fortune, had been appointed to serve out necessaries in the Irish militia. He was afterwards promoted for his services!!! But, this person is beneath notice. Nevertheless, a word to the wise, beware! or, look steadfastly in his ferocious countenance, and nature herself will shrink from him ; for what he teas, and what he is, has been written by the Almighty hand, jn legible characters on his forehead !!! However, for the honour of human nature, as exhibited in this part of his Majesty's forces, there were some few highly respectable indivi- duals, members of this redoubted northern corps : men of honour, ability, and worthWe shall * A batch of redoubts was dismissed at the same time, not for good conduct. f One in particular, a Right Honourable Gentleman of the highest rank, endowed with the most amiable and splendid qualities—a veteran commandant, lately deceased; who succeeded the late Noble Marquess of --, and, like him, a true patriot and friend to his country, did not participate in the rage for absenteeism, or sully his bright name with political corruption. He always resided on his estate, situate not a hundred miles from the Castle of Bangor, in the north of Ireland, I170 LIFE IN THE IRISH MlLlTlA. forbear further upon this subject, and only say, in general terms, that bad subordinates, and no other, will ever make, and ever have bad prin- cipals : the converse fortunately does not hold, for, mark the other day, how soon an over- weening tyrant was turned to the right about, by the firmness and virtue of brave honourable men, whom he would dare to overbear and trample. The army is one of the most important functionaries in the constitution of a country, and no organ of the state machinery requires more care and caution in its material and construction. It should admit none high or low but men of the best character ; and ought to be commanded by men of education, humanity, high mind, and honourable dispositions. The army may be a great boon, or a great nuisance or evil. His equipment, his idleness and natural insolence, give the soldier many advantages over the civilian; his conduct and discipline, therefore, demand the closest care and attention ; lest he may turn to the injury, or annoyance, of his fellow citizens, those means en- trusted to him for other purposes; namely, the support and protection of their lives} liberties, and We cannot flatter the dead—by a due tribute of gratitude to their me- mory: may we then, be permitted to say, that the many distinguishing- ly polite attentions, uniform kindness, patronage,—great favours con- ferred—and hospitality of the above regretted personage, towards the -writer and family, demand their most grateful acknowledgments; and to their latest moment, will never be forgotten.LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 171 fortunes at home ; and of their power, privilege and dignity abroad. But, the redoubts-:--the mock species of the military, were, for the most part, a disgrace to their country : the ooze and excre- ment of bad times : and may we never look upon their like again. In reference to this redoubted corps, whose nom du guerre, we have observed, was neither good nor great! we will now speak of the Kerry regiment: and from a comparative view of both, endeavour to give the reader a general outline of Life in the Irish Militia. We were for some time silent, but attentive observers of the conduct and discipline of this portion of it, and would that it had made a more favourable impression on us- Whatever drawback we feel in this regard ; to the-re- doubts, we owe it. In the autumn of - these two corps were stationed in Ch—t—m barracks in England. This, with the small towns contiguous, was, at that merry period in the meridian of life, bustle, and turmoil, owing to the great annual fair then held there; and still farther heightened by the pre- sence of our reckless and turbulent sons of war. We shall submit to our readers a few scenes illustrative of the riot, tumult, and mischief they habitually caused, and which the mutual jealousies and bickerings of the two regiments, continually fomented. The Kerry boys, commonly so called;172 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. frequently visited the scenes of mirth around them. Their ardent temperament, unceremonious free- doms, and mercurial irritability, incessantly em- broiled them with the inhabitants, especially on subjects of nationality ; on which all true born Irish are so proverbially sensitive. The Kerry boys, never loth on such occasions, entered the lists with their antagonists con amove ; and, such is their innate love for the fun of fighting, that the intervals so occupied, were esteemed as precious moments of relief, and recreation from their military duties. In their walks, they always kept the middle of the street, in groups of six or seven, seldom fewer; large athletic men, with huge shilelas in their hands ; shouting and brandish- ing:—their boisterous merriment, and dear native tongue, which they chattered aloud, astonished every beholder; and attracted the inhabitants, right and left, to their doors, wondering at what they called the eccentric manner and outlandish gibber age of their new visitors. They did not know what to think of the Kerry boys. Often would the appellation Paddy from Cork, and wild Hirish, be groaned or shouted from behind a wall, or closed door, or some other secure retreat; but not always with impunity : for the civility was often returned by battered sculls, and broken noses, or sore bones, one way or the other. These significant mementos often rose in severe judg-LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 173 irient against the Kerry boys ; who were frequently called to account before the civil authorities ; but they always pleaded in Irish; teauga vahar, a yra; (the mother tongue, my love,) and my Lord Manners was never more puzzled to pronounce or interpret the names of Irish townlands, in our Court of Chancery, than the Ch—t—m func- tionaries, to divine the meaning of the oracular lingo of the Hibernians. Though many brawls and quarrels took place, and many a broken head was mutually dealt between the hostile parties, ye£ this being done on the part of the Kerry boys, as they declared, with a free good will; and believing, that on the other side, there was no love lost, they readily forgave, and in the mean time liked each other. As to the Northerns, they were favourites with neither party. The Kerry men held them in the worst odour. As companions and brother soldiers, they despised them ; for they imagined they fought shy in the cause of their country ; and for their private habits, they called them selfish and un- sociable ; for them they reserved the phial of their splendid bile, and poured it without mercy on their heads. They denounced them as a cold calcu- lating, timid crew, without a spark of the amor patrice, nor any good nature for " Oidd Ireland, the Crather, why who hived within their bar* racks, merely to save their hides : a sort of mon-174 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. grel race, neither Scotch nor Irish ; fish, flesh, or good red herring. On the walks, on the streets, would they challenge and assail them with sar- casms, epithets, and allusions, bearing on those points, but nothing could provoke the cold and cautious INortherns to come to the scratch. How- ever patience and evasion did not always avail them, for the Kerry boys often soundly mauled and otherwise maltreated them. Regular set-to's would frequently occur between the contending powers, and the redoubts got always the worst of it. The town was kept in continual uproar; and the two regiments. maintained a constant skir- mishing with each other, to the great annoyance of the inhabitants. But the meridian of the gala was reserved for Patrick's day. On this festival, ever interesting and exciting to all true-born Hibeftiians, the Kerry boys determined, spite of all restraints, to celebrate the honour and glory of Saint Patrick, and no mistake! Accordingly at dusk, when Nox was preparing to spread her sable wings over the chickens of Ch—t—m, and all other weary mortals ; the Kerry boys sallied forth, to the number of fifty or sixty armed men ; scoured the streets, the high-ways, and bye-ways. Where- ever they faced, terror and consternation preceded them. In their own peculiar phraseology, and without reserve or exception, they challenged every mac maw har (mother's son) of Adams sons*life in the irish militia. 175 who should dare to say a word in disparagement of Ould Ireland the Cushle ma Chree, why ! they then rushed on, impetuous as the mountain torrent; shouting, menacing, swearing! routing all before them. The welkin rung as they proceeded ; voci- ferating a jargon of Latin and Irish—Corrabow, hirroo!! hirroo corrabow !! (huzza, come on) una sains! (one hope), vaughaillee, bualaghee, rhebughee!!! (boys, slash and tear away) corn- mime periclum! (common danger) hurrah for brave Grainge Wealle, and Ould Ireland for ever and ever! secula seculorum, Amen !! Not a being was to be seen : the streets a desert: the frighted inhabitants rushed for safety and for succour into their houses, which they barricadoed as if against the common enemy. The moon and stars shone bright and smiling, as if highly amused at the gambols of the Kerry boys; but they had no ex- ploit, and were displeased. In this calamity they returned to the barracks, where they hoped to have their gratification feasted, and there kicked up a roaring rout. They challenged the Nor- therns ; dared them to come out; poured vollies of abuse and vituperation on their devoted heads : loaded them with names and epithets specially picked and culled for the purpose, from their own attic vocabulary : such as snakes, spaulpeens,* eauboags,f amuthauns,* bausthoons,§ without * Brata. f Fools-caps. | Fools. § Bastards.176 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. spunk ; who would not jump out from their lurk* ings, and fight a bit for fun, and the honour and glory of Saint Patrick, and Ireland, Why! Go machanso challacha; (come out here, old hags), exite pecudes ! sumachauns ! come out here, half- naturals ; and cowld as you are from the frosty north, we are the huachallee, (boys) that will give you the hot cogaridchluaish, (a whisper in your ear) and make fire fly from your jaw-bones! It would not do. The mellow sounds, and soothing accents of Latin or Irish, or both combined, with the all-coaxing gestures of the Kerry boys, availed not. The Northerns were inflexible : no rhetoric could move them : in no shape or terms would they accept the invitation; and they remained fast in their strong-holds. The poor Kerry boys at length departed, with biting lips and long faces; sorely grieved and disappointed : swearing (lawr ma vaw har—by the hand of my mother) they could not sleep without a row. These features of character may be deemed uncouth and repulsive, but in our judgment they ought to be considered only as temporary depar- tures, " with grand disorder from vulgar bounds," exhibiting nought of the sordid, mean, immoral, or malignant, such as we noticed in northern redoubts. The Kerry boys possessed many high redeeming qualities. In many respects nature is to that people most bountiful. The Kerry men,LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 177 and indeed the pure unmixed Irish universally* are richly endued with an innate civility, gene- rosity and kindness, of which their starred and mitred oppressors might be proud to boast, and which they would do well to imitate. In the Kerry regiment there were no wanton tyran- nies, no cruel arbitrary punishments, no san- guinary brutalities, or gross dissolution of morals. In no respect, did we know or hear, that the gal- lant Kerry boys, by word or deed, ever offended the female eye or ear. We have uniformly ob- served them gay, generous, confiding, often what we would call eccentric, or extravagant; but all through, and at the worst, exhibiting something amiable, attractive, and respectable. In common with all their true born countrymen, they surpass most other people, in love of learning, love of kindred, natural politeness and hospitality. Their board, their roof, is the asylum of the needy; whatever they have they most cheerfully share, never refuse a favour, nor seek a return. For love of kindred the Kerry man, like every true born Irishman, stands unrivalled. His affections for father, mother, brother and sister, amount to devotion. The high pride and innate humanity of the Kerry man, however humble his station, will not brook to see his immediate relative des- titute or dependant. The abundance of his love and kindness embraces the more remote grades of i 2178 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. relation. No other people admit such extensive ramifications of consanguinity. To the twentieth generation asunder, those distant relatives are sought and claimed and recognized, as dear loving cousins, why! cushle ma chree, pulse of my heart! This hallowed humanity excites a laugh and jeer. In whom, but in those who are not so divinely gifted ? In those who, like the beasts of the field or woods, the moment they are able to provide for themselves and become independent, outcast their nearest and dearest, expose them to the tyranny of the workhouse, and the degradation of demo- ralizing poor laws, or the cold and precarious charity of a censorious unfeeling world. To those who would thus sneer at the Kerry man, and through him at the native Irish, of which he is so perfect a specimen ; and damp the ardour of his high mind and open heart, his pas- sion for improvement, his devotion to his country, his kindness and generosity to the destitute and needy, and his pious reverence for parents and kindred; to those we say and earnestly say, " go you and do likewise/" do as the true born Irishman does, not the spurious mongrel the re viler, and oppressor of the land and people he lives on. (We directly mean the sluggish devouring Irish Aristocracy.) Imitate his love of country, his love of learning, his noble and manly tastes and predilections, his hospitality, civility, and candour,LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 179 his sincere, lasting, affectionate friendships, and his unrivalled reverence for parents and kindred. View the Irishman in the field of battle, and at his fire side at home; his irresistible .valour in the one, his all endearing gentleness, and kindness, and his hospitable cectd mille failte (a hundred thousand welcomes) at the other. Do observe these high paramount qualities, and thenceforth cease to depreciate or malign the true Irish cha- racter. It is bad taste, and depravity of heart, to affect to spurn the virtues you do not possess, rather than admire, imitate, and cultivate them. Look at his loyalty, fortitude, and magnanimity; his indomitable spirit, and patience under gross, grievous, wanton, tyrannical oppressions: look at him—but not with a Gorgon eye—in all those brilliant and beautiful lights; cease to revile or calumniate him ; have the courage, and the grace to cherish and imitate him ; adopt him as your best model, and again we exhort you, for your ow n sake; to go and endeavour to " do likewise." It is to be observed, that the Kerry clans, the chief subject of our present memoir, are like the tribes of Beersheba, all in all, derived from one stock: a lengthened chain from generation to generation ; and may be considered, in their wide spreading ramifications, down to the present day, as if derived from one family; the character and habits of the whole, in all its varieties* are so180 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. unique and identical. This does not arise from any essential peculiarity in the Kerry-man. He possesses his several qualities in common with his fellow-natives, but more marked in him, owing to his remote and sequestered position in the extre- mity of the isle—a kind of peninsula mostly hemmed in by the Atlantic, and secluded from any, or very little, commerce or intercourse with surrounding counties. The intermarriages of the Kerry people are much limited by this locality, and in a great degree confined to themselves. After three or four removes from a common stem, right, left, or direct, the young scions meet again, and graft and pullulate a new generation of com- pound relatives. Thus they increase, multiply, and ramify reciprocally, and without end; hence that lengthened chain of cousinships and consan- guinity even to the fortieth generation, and the mutual love and endearment of Kerrymen, high and low, and without distance or distinction, so marked, decisive, and unequivocal, beyond most other people. This is the life and intercourse of men and Christians, and worthy of universal reverence and imitation. Of this kindly, free, and generous intercourse, and of the love and regard for kindred; rich and poor, high and \bw, the Kerry regiment was a perfect specimen. From the private to the commandant they mutually claimed and allowedLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 181 relation and alliance, no matter about its distance or origin. So far did this freedom prevail, that the privates, speaking even of the ladies of the regiment, always designated them, " Cousin Biddy," " Cousin Jenny," or " Mary," or what- ever else the name may be, with the word, " why!" at the conclusion of every observation when they spoke English, but their favourite idiom was the dear native Irish. Another of their singular habits was calling or addressing each other, man, woman, and child, by their proper names, with an addition expressive of kin- dred relation (as we have mentioned) or some other personal or accidental circumstance: Shane- ruah, red-haired John; Maire-vawn, fair Mary. If the commanding officer reprimanded his Kerry boys for any disorder or inattention in the ranks, it would ring the welkin round that Donall-more, big Dan; Withear-fada, long Watt; Dermuid- duv, black Dermot, meaning one or other of the commanding officers, had got on the grand pas with his poor relations, why; but after all, no Persian satrap was ever more loved, respected, or cheerfully obeyed than their commandant by the Kerry boys. The Kerry people, and the native Irish univer- sally, make frequent use of patronymics. No mode of address or allusion is more common. Scarce is any one addressed but after his father's182 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. name, as Padric-heamus, Patrick son of James ; Shane-thige, John son of Tim. And so prevalent is this custom, that very often the real sirname is lost and forgot, while the patronymic remains, and apparently produces a new name, and a new family. The use of patronymics and by-names, as prac- tised at this day by the people of Kerry, and the native Irish universally, seems to be of very high origin. They frequently occur in Homer; as, Atrides, the son of Atreus; Peleides, the son of Peleus; Priamedes, the son of Priam; besides numerous other instances that may be quoted. These personages and others are as often men- tioned by the prince of poets, with epithets derived from some accident or circumstance peculiar to each, as fair-haired Agamemnon; plume-tossing Hector : crafty Ulysses; spear-famed Achilles ; white-armed Helen. In days of yore, in this country, the same usage prevailed. We had Loowee Lavfhada, Louis Long Hand : Conawn Maol, bald Conan ; in France, which was con- quered and inhabited by the Gauls, ancestors of the present Irish, they had their Philip the fairy and other such epithets. William the Conqueror imported the practice into England : he was com- monly called William the Bastard—no disgrace in those free-and-easy days—there was also Rufus, red-haired; longshanks; ironside ; lackland; andlife in the irish MILITIA. 183 many more such names. The habit, we before mentioned, as prevalent with the Kerrymen and all native Irish, of addressing every one indis- criminately by the proper name, they have in common with the remotest antiquity ; as Homer, Xenophon, and the ancient Romans certify. These great people, like the present native Irish, had no counterfeit titles, or misnomers; no sobriquets of ridicule, distinction, or separation, from their fellow-citizens; no such nicknames as duke, earl, marquess, to license depravity and make the vul- gar stare. Each man and woman was content with the proper name ; relied on personal merits and proper worth, and were distinguished and esteemed, according to different degrees of their good qualities, and high merits. They admitted no such appellations as Lords or Ladies; or Right Honorable, dis-honorables. But we in this Christian nineteenth century, have our lords, and our ladies ! What is it but palpable blasphemy to apply to worthless and vicious creatures, the de- signations by which we invoke the Most High; and style and entitle the mother of God ? John! our lord commands you to polish his boots, and sad- dle his horse ; Biddy! our lady wants her slippers and lap-dog. Poor man! the Lord ivill help you. Beseech him, crave him, to aid and protect you: the Lord is bountiful and merciful, and will not forsake you in your trouble. If such titles be not184 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. directly blasphemous, we know not what is. Should they be longer endured in this Christian church militant, psalm-singing, tithe-hunting, bishop-ridden nineteenth century!!! The native Irish, in general or particular, never practised or sanctioned such profanations! But our tyrants and task-masters, the aristocracy, will have it so! Yet we, as properly becomes us, humbly sup- plicate our high and mighty superiors at once to abolish the impious assumption of " our Lord? and " our Lady" Other features in the character of the native Irish, need not be here omitted as irrelevant or uninteresting—their exercises, fire- side amusements, love of home, and domestic predilections. Their hurling matches stand un- rivalled, as the most manly and elegant gymnastic ever invented, and the most perfect criterion of high physical powers, at once combining strength, swiftness, agility, and address. Those who have witnessed this splendid sport, are well aware of its magnificence : to those who have not, no description however graphic could give an adequate idea of it. Imagine the ball struck vertically into the air:—as the signal to commence ; all eyes are up ; they rush to the spot where it is descending, their hurls adjusted, pre- pared each party, to give it a blow into open space, before it fall to the ground ; in this hope the number of competitors grouped together baffle eachLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 185 other, the ball drops between them, and then comes the tug of contest, while each party strives to extricate it to his side; at length some one more fortunate than the rest succeeds, and whips it off with the swiftness of a deer. They all pursue: he proceeds in his rapid career; uninterrupted, till outstripped in speed, or he misses his blow, or is interrupted by the cool baire, or goal guard; a party always stationed by each side on either ex- tremity of the field, to prevent the ball passing the line of demarkation ; as that would amount to winning the game. Though the cool baire often fails in his task, yet he more frequently succeeds, and by a herculean puck sends the ball back into the centre of the arena ; and the game is re- newed, with more intense vigour and alacrity. Another favourite amusement of the native Irish is fencing with sticks, commonly called cud- geling , the hand guarded with a wicker basket, or strong leather ; than this, no sport is more amusing or interesting to the beholder, it displays much of what may be properly deemed manly, elegant, even scientific; and performed by Irishmen, with skill, dexterity, and art, that the most accomplished Lanist of the Augustan age would admire. This fine sport, however, from its nature and practice, often degenerates to fierce and earnest fighting, ending with battered heads and bloody faces. Another field sport of the Irish is bounding186 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. over heights and lengths, in which they display astonishing powers of force, vigour, and spring of nerve. They practise wrestling, foot-racing, throwing heavy weights, winding and flinging lighter ones. Their sports and amusements it must be owned are each and all of the highest grade—feats of energy, vigour and address; ex- hibiting natural powers of the first order, unrivalled perhaps unequalled by any people now on the earth. Some of those sports are exclusively their own, others they have in common with the remot" est antiquity. Hurling, fencing, and leaping as we have mentioned, seem to be peculiarly Irish. Wrestling, foot-racing, and throwing weights, were part of the celebrated Pentathon of the an- cient Greeks and Romans. The only part of that famous system of gymnastics, rejected by the Irish, is the cestus or gauntlet—better known by what is vulgarly called boxing. The Irish are not naturally pugilists; at least they are not so by taste or predilection. Irishmen never box, and that brutal and barbarous thing, called the science of self-defence, found no countenance or footing among them ; an argument of their refined taste, their noble and generous feelings, for a more beastly, savage, ferocious practice could not be found among the most barbarous of the earth than boxing. We never heard of its existence in Kam- schatka, Patagonia, or Algiers; but it is sane-LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 187 tioned, and cultivated and cherished nearer home by the elite of our globe—the envy of surrounding nations, and the admiration of the world : indeed for cruelty, and inhumanity, and outrage of the dignity of human decency, boxing surpasses Spa- nish bull-baiting. But, as Sterne would say " de gustibus non disputandumthere is no disputing hobbies ; let us, however, remonstrate against this brutal and wicked practice, where human life is coolly and indifferently sacrificed, for the amuse- ment of the beholders; and hope that a nation, calling itself christian and civilized, will no longer sanction or permit it, nor swell their purses by the nefarious blood-money they make, by betting and winning on a sanguinary conflict; while they gloat on the wanton destruction of a fellow crea- ture. Humanity shudders at a custom so bar- barous ; so shocking to religion and morality in a generous, pious, and christian country. We now turn to our subject, from which we deviated a little, for the sake of humanity and religion; and of the national character of our British fellow subjects, whom we respect and esteem in the highest degree : if our reader think our motive humane and imperative, he will excuse us. Though the Kerry people were those who came principally before our view, yet they being but an integrant part of the whole native Irish, kin-188 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. dred associations of ideas led us to treat of the general character; and in that character are, be- sides those we touched, many interesting features, both peculiar and original. Such as their lan- guage—the spring and source, perhaps, of all the languages now living; certainly the fountain of the Greek, Latin, Spanish and French.—The lan- guage of sweetness, kindness and charm—the lan- guage of harmony and sublimity—the language of the heart and soul, that above any other now living, in which every passion can find congenial expression. The only remains now in existence of the great original primeval Celtic that once spread its civilization and idiom all over Europeu The language of the Irish music, so proverbially fascinating and delightful. To what does our celebrated Moore owe the imperishable fame of his Melodies, but to their kindred connection with this matchless language, which was spoken in attic purity and refinement by the royal ancestors of his present Majesty, in the proud days of Ire- land's ancient glory. But how are the mighty fallen! Our fine country, language, and people, are overborne and oppressed by a heartless, taste- less, inhuman, and tyrannical Irish aristocracy; who, shame on them, have ever laboured to crush and extinguish us. The Irishman's love of erudi- tion and his domestic predilections are not less remarkable than his other high qualities. HeLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 189 delights in every thing home : his meat, drink, and clothes, he will, if possible, have from the hands of his family: which essentials are pre- pared and elaborated by the females. This noble and amiable predilection, he has but in common with the greatest princes and potentates, that an- cient or modern times have seen. It is said of Augustus Csesar, that he never wore, except on state days, when he assumed his imperial robes, any other clothes than those made and prepared for him by his wife, daughter, sisters, and nieces. Alexander the Great, one day arrayed in an admired dress of his, said to those about him— " These clothes I wear are not only the gift of my sisters, but the work of their own hands." Ye flaunting, visiting, card-playing, idle dames of the nineteenth century, think of this and blush !!! It is a custom of the Irish, men as well as women, at departures or meetings, after a long absence, to kiss each other. This practice of the men is considered very shocking and barbarous by the gross and mawkish affectation of delicacy of their less pure, less moral, less honest, and more barbarous censors. But let it be remembered that this, like most other Irish habits, is derived from remotest antiquity. Xenophon makes countless allusions to it, not censorious but historical. He tells us that when Cyrus was going to his grand- father, Darius, King of the Persians; his father190 LIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. accompanied him to the frontier of his dominions, and on taking leave they kissed each other. Cyrus proceeded, and on his arrival at the Persian court, he was kissed by his grandfather, and all his male relatives. After some time there, when preparing to depart for home, he was kissed by all his ac- quaintance. The most polished writer of the Augustan age, describing a journey from GREAT ROME, to a remote part of the country, tells us that some of the great men of the state, amongst them Maecenas, the imperial premier, met at a certain stage, and greeted each other with hearty embrace and rejoicing— " Oli! what embraces ! what joy was there ! !" Such is the enthusiastic ejaculation of the immor- tal writer in recording the circumstance. The native Irish do the same at this day at meetings and partings, and thus preserve the customs and manners in this regard, of the peers and princes of the Medes, Persians, Greeks, and Romans, the most polished and powerful nations that ever lived. What a field of inquiry and contemplation does not observation and comparison here lay open to the philosophic inquirer? What a light on the darkness of antiquity; what unequivocal proof that those interesting, amiable, and singu- larly gifted people, now so despised and destitute in the land of their fathers, are of very remote andLIFE IN THE IRISH MILITIA. 191 very refined origin. Shame on their barbarous oppressors—and those are the devouring, tyran- nical, illiterate Irish aristocracy. The subject is inexhaustibly prolific ; but we shall no longer, for the present, dwell on it. We conclude, then, re- commending the native ill-used Irish as objects of paramount interest and regard to the wise, the virtuous, the philosophic and the curious.A VISIT TO THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY. KA VISIT to the LAKES OF KILLARNEY. " Killarney hail! unto this heart most dear <£ Thou grand romantic region of the sphere ; " Here may the Muse's lonely artless child " Wander among thy scenes grotesque and wild, " Where rocky labyrinths—stupendous steeps— " Embattled capes dark frown upon the deeps: <( Here, too, Ierne, we hail thy lordly fcow'rs, t( 'Mid winding vistas and sweet rosy bow'rs : " And gardens gemm'd with flow'rs of ev'iy die, " Where fragrant zephyrs breathe their softest sigh." [Adupted from the Giant's Causeway, a Poem, by John M'Kinley.] The lakes of Killarney are so celebrated—the charms of the surrounding scenery so varied and multiplied, that each successive visitor finds fresh sources of delight expanding and crowding on his astonished imagination : the following extract of a letter from a tourist in our own times,* de- * Candida.196 A VISIT TO THE scriptive of this fairy land of the beautiful and sublime, may not be deemed uninteresting to the reader. # # # * * * * —kse{; 0ff from Cork, mounted on a pair of smart docked poniesr under the denomination of flying travellers ; and the rapidity of our progress precluded all obser- vation, which, no doubt, was a loss to the curious^ as the high road from Cork to Macromp furnishes some subjects worthy of notice. Our expedition attained only one interesting point: it hastened the moment of embracing a beloved friend, and short- ened the impatient solicitude of her affectionate heart for our arrival. Her hospitable board seemed to bid us welcome, while the benign, placid coun- tenance of our dear hostess gave the highest relish to the rich viands with which she supplied us. We spent the evening in that easy confidence which only real friendship can produce. 24th August.—An angry sky, and frequent vio- lent showers, however, as we had appointed to meet our party in Mill Street, on we must pro- ceed in defiance of the warring elements. At twelve left Ash Grove, and cantered for ten miles, over a rude, rocky country, where the hand of cultivation can nowhere be discerned—not a tree to be seen until we reached Mr. Leaders (within a quarter of a mile of Mill Street): a neat looking house, the front-ground improved on a smallLAKES OF KILLARNEY- 197 -scale : a meandering river catches the attention, and the eye, relieved from the weary track of heavy bog and sterile mountains, rests with plea- sure upon this smiling scene. Dined at Mill Street, and reached Killarney about eight o'clock : # * # * * * * As there are but two respectable inns in the town we soon dis- covered our party : the ensuing morning was ap- pointed for feasting ourselves on the beauties of Killarney, of which we had heard so much. Rose early on the 25th, impatient to see the rich scenes imagination had painted to us in glowing colours. The moment at length arrives for setting off. A mile from the town we take boat, at a place called Ross Island, on which is built a bar- rack of modern appearance, and also a castle, which does not look as antique as its foundation: a little more ivy would add to its venerable ap- pearance. At this castle we stepped into our barge, clarinets and French horns playing. Behold us now on the expansive bosom of the lower lake, ten miles in length and five in breadth ; scattered with islands covered with the most luxu- riant verdure, and trees of the richest foliage. The lake on one side is checked in its extent by mountains, which, rising abruptly to a perpen- dicular height, form countless fantastic shapes., and are at length lost in the clouds. Trees as ancient as the soil, rise with majestic grandeur198 A VISIT TO THE from the borders of the beneficent waters, and ascend to the summit of the hills; we landed at the foot of the grand water-fall, which, from the quantity of rain that had poured from the heavens the night before, swelled the cataract to a prodi- gious degree; the dash was deafening, and the foaming breaks formed one of the most sparkling, animated, beautiful objects imaginable ; and more particularly so, when contrasted with the deep, solemn gloom of the surrounding woods, grace- fully bending their verdant boughs over the roar- ing torrents, and then raising their bold heads, as if to screen from mortal eyes the Dryads in their favourite haunts, and the Naiads in their crystal fountains. We stood for an hour admiring this fairy scene, the interest of which was heightened by the grandeur 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- senting baskets of nuts!—here, where the human hand could in no part be traced, nor sound of footstep heard, these sudden apparitions had an indescribable effect!—With slow and reluctant step we returned to our barge; an awful solemnity was impressed on our minds, which imperceptibly gave place to livelier sensations, as our pleased attention fixed on the picturesque scenery around the lake, dressed in all the varied fascinations ofLAKES OF KILLARNEY. 199 bfcauty with which Nature clothes her choicest works. We now proceeded to Glena, where our eyes with wonder were enchained. Lost in ad- miration and mute attention we gazed.—Every thing we had previously been delighted with seemed but the every-day work of inferior, though still superhuman agency. All our former ideas of grandeur and sublimity were, indeed, but imper- fect!—here the hand of the Great "Architect" was visible : a higher style of the sublime could not be imagined nor borne by the feeble organs of man. If our notions of the Deity permitted us to suppose that Omnipotence ever reposed on earth, Glena would be the hallowed retreat. Inferior angels, I am willing to think, sometimes quit Elysium, and deign to sojourn in this terrestrial paradise. We sounded our French horn—echo from her deep recess responded, as if to return the compliment, in notes so softly dulcet, as melted the soul to an exquisite perception of harmony !* We were called off from listening to her melody by some fishermen who had arrived with a rich haul. Having the mean point in view, we pur- * This is alluded to by an elegant recent writer, the Rev. Mr. Wright, in his " Guide to the Lakes of Killarney." He says, " the Lakes of Killarney are particularly calculated to produce reflections of «ound, from the height of the mountains, and the expanse of water; for water assists the dilation of echo, as well as that of original sounds ; if a few syllables be uttered in a soft tone over a well of great depth, the water returns an audible echo." He mentions sixteen reverberations of the voice at Eagle's Nest.200 A VISIT TO THE chased a supply, which we left with the inhabi- tants of a cottage that peeped from under the deep green of the foliage. This smiling and simple re- treat is reserved by Lord Kenmare, the noble owner of this enchanted ground, for the conve- nience of those who visit Killarney. Under this rural shade we proposed dining, and whilst our salmon were roasting, we rowed under a high arch, built by Colonel Herbert, as a communica- tion between Mucruss and the opposite lands, into the middle lake, and nearly round the loveliest spot under the heavens—" Mucruss." To embel- lish which all the elegance of taste, combined with the skill of art, and magic magnificence of won- der-working nature, are united; and so curiously blended, that it would puzzle the most inquisitive observers to separate the ingenious labours of man from the wildly luxuriant productions with which Providence has favoured it. All that part of Mucruss which is washed by the waters of the lake, presents to the eye one continued chain of vast rock, out of the solid sides of which grow the arbutus, and various evergreens of the richest foliage : you behold with astonishment a founda- tion of massive rock, adorned from base to sum- mit with countless different shrubs and trees.— The mountain ash, now in full verdure and bear- ing, bursting their scarlet clusters through the glistening deep green of the holly, and the lighterLAKES OF KILLARNEY. 201 and milder shade of the arbutus, forcing their way to the crystal bosom of the lake, and offering their tempting fruit to the genius of the waters. Our boat passed an immense misshapen rock in the middle of the lake : after we had rowed some distance, the boatmen called back our attention to it. It now bore the exact figure of a gigantic horse, in the act of drinking; from which curious circumstance it is called " Horse rock." The signal for dinner was given, and we cheer- fully obeyed the summons; and, like thorough- bred epicures, feasted on the delicious cruddy salmon, which on the lakes is dressed with a rarity of taste and art that would baffle the gusto of the most exquisite gourmand. The fish is quar- tered, and each part spitted on a small wooden stick. The spits are stuck on ^nd into the ground, round a fire that is kindled on the green sod, and in that manner the fish is roastecL# The windows * This is also alluded to by Mr. Wright, "who observes, (speaking of Glena Cottage,) " In this cottage, in 1-821, a remarkable instance oc- curred of the cultivation of the classics among the peasantry in Kerry; the son of the cotta ger, who attended at table, was admitted and introduced as a poor scholar; some of the party in the cottage ad- dressed him in Latin, upon which he, at first, apologized for not reply- ing in the same language, as he had not read beyond Virgil, but being pressed closely, he shortly proved himself a worthy adversary, and con- cluded this exhibition by capping verses with greater ease and facility than any person present. " There is a tradition prevalent in the neighbourhood, of a party of Oxford lads, who, coming to visit the Lakes, were heard to express a K 2202 A VISIT TO THE of our rustic cottage commanded an extensive view of the lake, which presented a scene of tran- quil interminable beauty, beyond description. Our music played at intervals, and time passed unheeded. The bright orb of day had nearly run his course, and withdrawn his vivid rays from our hemisphere. The rich tinge shed by his depart- ing beams on the gilded horizon, was reflected on the smooth surface of the waters, over which our barge lightly skimmed, soft music playing the while, heightened the charm of the all-delightful scene. The brilliancy that illumined the moun- tain top now became fainter ; and evening's bright glow imperceptibly yielded to the sombre gloom of sable night. The umbrageous shade of the wish, of meeting some of the gentry of Kerry, to hazard a game of cap- ping verses, or other classical feats with them ; a few young gentleman of Killarney, who happened to be present, suggested to them the possi- bility of being worsted in the contest, for in that county, the very peasants spoke Latin; the Oxonians were not to be deterred, and set- ting out in their cabriolet next morning, arrived at a ford, where some young women were employed beetling clothes, upon whom they jocu- jarly lavished some lines of Virgil, when, " mirabile dictuthe washer, women replied in the same language. The Oxonians gazed on each other with surprise and dismay, and hurried along in their cabriolet as fast as their mountain shelty could move this unusual conveyance, with- out once reflecting upon the possibility of deception: these washer- women being no other than their Irish companions of the preceding evening in female "habits." See Guide to the Lakes of Killarney, O'Sulwvan's Cascade, p. 33.LAKES OF KILLARNEY. 203' majestic forest threw an awful veil over con- tiguous objects, which were slowly disappearing from our sight: all was silence. The rowers rested on their oars ; contemplation sat on the helm ; when suddenly attention was aroused from her deep musing by a sound from the French horn, which was answered by echo, in notes of heavenly sweetness. The nymph of melody seemed willing to accompany us from the loved abode of Glena to Ross Castle to which we were approach- ing ; as her melting voice was thrilling through our enraptured souls, a glittering meteor suddenly appeared playing on the quivering surface of the undulating waters. I doubted not but it was the nymph herself charmed from her retreat, but this was a mistake of the moment. Behold the moon, softly beaming! rose with mild radiance, dis- persing the heavy gloom, and shedding a serene light over the woods and waves, and weary mor- tals ; bright stars in myriads attended in her train, and strewed her path with sparkling splendours. We landed under Ross Castle, and quitted this Scene of enchantment with keen wishes to return soon as exhausted nature was refreshed. 26th.- The day smiled propitious; we set out again on the lower lake, and rowed away to the Island of Innisfallen, which we had not time to visit the day before. It contains seven- teen acres; a flat and plain surface: different204 A VISIT TO THE from all the others, free from rocks, and Its soil is too rich for tillage, but trees of prodigious size and luxuriance, that seem coeval with time itself, adorn it with their towering magnificence. Except at Mucruss, the largest trees in Killarney grow at Innisfallen : here is an old abbey in ruins covered with ivy, and overrun with nettles and briars. I made my way through them, but was not recompensed for the stinging and scratching I suffered in the enterprise—little more than the outside walls remain. This island was (so fabled story tells) the abode of the genius of the lakes, who is still often seen by the beholders, rising from the deep, crowned with coral and sea-weeds at that hour when spirits play their gambols, and scare poor simple maidens from their prayers;— as I have never seen his saintship, I cannot tell what form he assumes ! We left these verdant though shady banks, and rowed away to the upper lake; on reaching it, we landed at the Island of Dinas, that our boat might pass a narrow neck, the communication between the two lakes;—where the current is so rapid, that the boat is irresistibly hurried by its- violence for the space of about fifty or sixty yards with the swiftness of an arrow. Dinas is a be- witching spot; it is more wildly rural than any- thing 1 had yet seen; all view of the sublime is here lost, rustic simplicity, but graceful, animated,LAKES OF KlLLARNEY. 205 and alluring, is the leading feature; banks of the most refreshing verdure invite repose; the at- butus, laurel, and holly, by their close and kindly combination, present to the weary traveller a fragrant and delicious shade. The blackbird, thrush, linnet, and various other charming cho- risters, sweeten the air with their divine melodies. Myriads of various flowers seemed to spring per- petually under our feet, and enamel the soft car- pet with colours of the most exquisite tint and beauty. The wildly spreading branches of the oak, repel the bleak winds in their impetuous career, and form an impenetrable barrier against the destructive blasts; rude Boreas never pre- sumed to invade the tranquillity and charm of this Elysian retreat. The gentle zephyrs alone here abide, sport through the groves, and wanton through the fragrant leaves of the rose and eglan- tine. 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 returning once more to this delightful Eden; here every object was soothing and delightful. Nature seemed in her kindest mode, and the whole expanse around was, beyond expression, charming; the mind was not elevated to scenes too immense for human powers to sustain ; Na- ture here, ever smiling, was now in her loveliest206 A VISIT TO THE aspect; the robe of simplicity gracefully thrown on, 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 number- less rocks, abruptly raising their heads out of the prolific lake, crowned with evergreens: on some of those islands, of apparently solid rock, par- ticular trees are the only productions of nature : one is covered with arbutus, another with holly, and on another the mountain ash predominates. The picturesque scenery on each side, and to the extremity of the lake, and to the utmost boundary of the l\orizon is wild and romantic, beyond the powers of imagination to paint or describe. The Turk and Mangerton tower above all the surrounding mountains. Their proud heads rise superb above the clustering hills, brave the rush- ing torrent dashing down their sides, and mock ing the rude north blast of the merciless tempest; though stripped of every verdure, except the pur- ple heath, they still ascend boldly until their majestic heads are completely lost in the vast expanse of the heavens. Fancy in her most ex- travagant humour seems to have sketched tha o landscape; the character of the piece is very dif- ferent from what strikes the observer at the lower lake,—where we scarcely ever lose the sublimeLAKES OF KILLARNEY. 207 and beautiful;—a wildly charming scenery, spread over hill and dale, meets the wandering eye, and the admiring beholder is lost in amazement. The rudely wild, the bold, the tremendously sublime, (particularly under the Eagle's nest) is each step astonishing the spectator. Here Nature is not so beneficent a parent as in the majestic woody hills around the lower lake; we beheld gigantic mountains extending into a million of fantastic shapes, and from their great height, des- titute of their most fascinating garb, clothed, towards their summit only, with purple heath ; however, the rich vales and glens, profusely wooded and gushing with cool and limpid springs, regale the eye, wearied by too long a gaze on the sublime works of the great Divinity. We landed on an Island towards the extremity of the lake, called " Roman's Island." It con- tains about two acres, and has its title from a gen- tleman of that name who lives near Cork. He is a lover of solitude, and of the sports of the field, and has taken this little spot, on which he has built a cottage (the object of our attraction); but we repented our visit. Tasteless man has rendered it a sty for hogs, though nature seemed to have designed it a habitation for angels!—here Mr. R-vegetates three months in the year : though only a few minutes on it, we could not but execrate the sordid and groveling taste of the208 A VISIT TO THE owner, for which all things, but the blessings of the beholders, are heaped on him. However, the sweet fragrance of Dinas, that delicious spot, soon banished from our minds the recollection of our late disagreeable visit. 27th--was a wet day, however, we went in carriages to a review. 28th ---A glorious day : we spent it in visit- ing Muckruss and Lord Kenmare's Park, which contains fifteen hundred 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 point of view is magnificent. Through the park runs a deep glen, thickly wooded; a river, rapid, clear, and deep, flows at the foot, over which are con- structed, at different intervals, rustic bridges; here the taste of the noble lord is conspicuously displayed in countless instances; through this scene of wild and magnificent beauty Nature seems at times to vie with herself, though her natural luxuriance is often checked by artificial improvements of the most exquisite order. Mucruss may not be unaptly called the garden of Eden; yet the fair Eve who possessed it was tempted to stray from its lovely borders. Colonel Herbert is its present Adam. Mucruss Abbey is a beautiful ruin, founded in the year 1440 ; it remains in a great state of preservation,LAKES OF KILLARNEY. 209 and is covered with ivy. The ground around, and at some distance, is an Elysium of all that capti- vate the senses. Through the abundant foliage of the rich evergreens are openings and vistas, which present a view of the lakes with their nameless and varied beauties, and the majestic woods which environ them. Every step betrays some new object still more charming than the last to delight the eye. If silence, shade, and meditation be your choice, re- tire to the inviting bower, whose thick leaves are impenetrable to all light, where deep musing is softly soothed by the gentle murmuring of the adjacent stream, and the sweetly shrill note of the blackbird. If weary of retirement and solemn contemplation, direct your steps to the refreshing banks of the lake, which presents a spectacle of all that can interest the mind, animate the spirits, and charm the taste. Barges, gaily painted and richly decorated, with bands of music, are frequently seen lightly skimming over her glassy surface. At one time they present themselves to the spectator, and the next moment are lost, by the intervening island, which proudly rises from the bosom of the glitter- ing element, decked with trees of the wildest luxuriance. Along its lively verdure appear motley groups of company; some sitting on the green banks : others rambling through the shady210 A VISIT TO THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY. groves of arbutus; while the soul-melting music, mingling with the soft and solemn echo, soothed and charmed the listening ear. Should the eye wander from this animated scene, it rested on the superb spectacle that Glena presented, on which the mind dwells in transports, lost to all other earthly objects, till roused suddenly by the French horn; then, with breathless anxiety, you behold the stag bounding and dashing into the calm bosom of the lake, pursued, as far as convenient, by the keen hounds and sportsmen.AN ALLEGORICAL TALE.AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. Know you not, master, to some kind of men Their graces serve them but as enemies ? No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master, Are sanctified and holy traitors to you: Oh ! what a world is this, when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it ! As You Like it. When Hope descended from heaven, to sup- port on earth desponding Nature, the gods, jea- lous of her partiality to man, conspired with the fates, and decreed that in the terrestrial world she should bring forth a son whose name should be Innocence ! and that the offspring of the god- dess should partake in common with human kind the wayward and vexatious lot of mortals. Accordingly, when Innocence was born, Hope, to avert the curse denounced, had the child con- veyed to an Oasis, called the Happy ; and there, under the superintendance of Minerva, given in charge to a guardian genius, who would instruct214 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. and caution him against the craft and iniquity of the world, and protect him from the vexations and calamities to which flesh is heir, and to the unrestrained influence of which, the higher powers had so cruelly devoted him. The selected retreat seemed to be the favourite abode of bliss and charm, resembling the Thes- salian Tempe; it displayed a delightful com- bination of all that is rich, refreshing, and cheering; and raised the soul to admiration and transport, by a splendid and celestial scenery. The lily and the rose, and the countless variety of all flowers, of every hue, in full blow and beauty, charmed the senses, and filled the surrounding atmosphere with the fragrance of Arabia—a gar- den of Elysium, gently undulating, and giving an agreeable relief to the plain surface. The river of Immortality ran through it, like the stream of Peneus, cooling and refreshing it: tempering the intensity of the sun's rays, and spreading delight and salubrity all around. The bright and limpid current seemed, from its fascinating charms, to be the favourite abode of all the Naiads. Its banks were clustered with groves of myrrh, and all the odoriferous growths of Nature's choicest selections. Beds of flowers, unknown to human view, varie- gated the green turf; and mountains, vying in awful majesty with Olympus, Ossa, or Pelion, terminated this all-beautiful prospect; and onAN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 215 this delicious spot Nature seemed to disport in all the luxuriance of delight and sublimity. In this paradise of delights, secluded from the encroachment of man, Innocence was reared and cherished by his guardian Genius. The Muses and Graces, delighted with his society, were his familiar and constant companions. The former instructed him in the attainment of the liberal arts and sciences : the latter adorned and embel- lished him, and Minerva gave strength, stability, and direction to all his brilliant and fascinating endowments. Under all these auspicious circum- stances, the consummation of bliss, unalloyed, seemed to be secured to him ; but the deities had doomed him to human plagues and vicissitudes— and when gods conspire what mortal can escape ? Innocence grew up in stature as in years. Every embellishment of nature and instruction profusely adorned him. Minerva and the rest of the divine train seemed to have made him the object of their peculiar care and solicitude; being subject to the anathema of the higher powers, who doomed him to the vicissitudes of mortality. He still con- tinued in pure and native simplicity. Ingenuous and confiding, his guardian genius, and divinities ever round him ; he could not be persuaded that beyond the sphere of his then paradise, there was another world, the theatre of vice and depravity,216 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE* where sin and wickedness for ever dwell—region inhabited by monsters, who call themselves the rulers and directors of men; but who live by lies, hypocrisy, and impiety—by spoliation, robbery, and bloodshed—who commit more havoc on the human race in one day, than all the beasts of prey that ever lived have committed on their own several kinds since the beginning of the world. Such were the warnings of Minerva to Innocence, to prepare him for what he had yet to encounter, and to guard and protect him, as far as the Fates would permit, from the awful consequences of human intercourse. The goddess continued— " My son," said she, "those monsters have as- sumed to themselves the titles of temporal and spiritual guardians of the affairs of men: the former pretend to direct the earthly concerns ; the latter insist they alone are the vehicles of grace and virtue, who can shew man the way to another and a better world. But both are by a common name called Aristocracy—the remorse- less tyrants and destroyers of the world. Wolves among the sheep, flayers and devourers of the flock. The priesthood, that is, the spiritual de- vourers, on the Sabbath-day, preach peace, charity, and brotherly love ; but next day, and daring the interval of the next Sabbath, they rush forth with all the munitions of destruction, plundering andAN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 217 slaughtering mankind, filling the land with hor- ror and dismay; not sparing even the aged, the widow, or the orphan. " Now, my son," said she, " doomed as you are to human sufferings, you share in a degree the mortal disabilities. You see things imper- fectly : but I will remove from your eyes that film which limits the sight of mere mortality to com- mon objects. Now, my son, look around thee." " O! horrors!! What do I see? O! the wicked- ness, knavery, and baseness of palaces, courts, and cabinets! What falsehood, blasphemy, and un- cleanness in their churches!! I see a slick, fat, unholy-looking man, with coarse accents, insolent bearing, and unchaste looks; he is mounted 011 a sort of pedestal; clad in white ; a large book be- fore him, on which rest his hands, whose fair- ness, made more attractive by a diamond ring on the index finger, he seems most anxious to display; but methinks I see a few ugly blood-red stains on those neat hands." " True, my son, the hands are stained ; he is a tithe-hunting churchman: he has been the pre- vious week, and will be the next, at the head of armed bandits (he also armed) plundering and routing the unprotected people, and killing and maiming all who dare to dispute or oppose him. Hence the stains on his hands : indeed, my son, he is, as you may perceive, covered all over with L218 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. deep and purple patches; his lawn and silk robe& hide them only from mortal ken, but the eye of Divinity cannot be deceived." " In the Courts of Justice," resumed Innocence, " I see chicane, quibble, avarice, and perversion; right made wrong; wrong right; and confusion worse con- founded. " I see in various places groups of persons, of both sexes, such as I never saw before. One of those seems to be engaged in very earnest con- versation—Oh! what hideous looks! what horrid grimaces. They have forked tongues like ser- pents ; tones and accents of furies; a livid flame glares in their eyes; it shocks me to look at them! The majority in this group are females. Who are they ?" 66 They, my child, are the disturbers, and bane of human happiness; the wicked maligners and slanderers of mankind; whose taste and spirit is to defame families and individuals, poison and destroy them, in fame, feeling, and fortune; demons of discord who invade the harmony and repose, not only of individuals, but often of com- munities and nations: backbiters and slanderers woe unto you !!!" " A different assemblage of very extraordinary beings, all males, appear in another direction : fury, villany, and blood in their aspects; an in- fernal spirit seems to work within them. TheyAN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 219 are silent and sombre, and intent on something atrocious and diabolical. Their costume is most grotesque, each carries a staff made of a yellow shining sort of stuff. Also on the breast, crossed or dented patches of the same hue and glare ; and on the head each wears a fantastic thing, such as I have never seen, spangled with bits of glass or some such material, that glares and sparkles to the light, and makes the thing a most ludicrous bauble. I would laugh at it, but there seems to be some dark diabolical designs hatched under it. The very look is horrifying ! I see bowls of blood, and dry human sculls before them. I see them now hand it about and drinking; each, before he swallows, looks steadfastly at the rest; and muttering, as if some pledge or imprecation, the proceeding is awful; my blood freezes at relat- ing it.—What gang of demons is this V9 " That gang, as you call them, my son, are the crowned tyrants of the world : the destroyers of man, the evil spirits of the earth ; the consum- mation of all wickedness. Their occupation is blood, blasphemy, and persecution, and the plun- der, massacre, and extermination of the human race—they call themselves the Holy Alliance." " O, mother, the Holy Alliance!! I had last night a hideous dream about it." " What was that, child ?"220 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. " *Methought it was on a dark night; a star- less sky weighed upon the earth, as a black mar- ble tomb-stone upon a grave. " And nothing disturbed the silence of that night except a strange noise like a light flapping of wings, which from time to time was heard over the fields and the cities. 66 And then the darkness thickened, and men felt their souls stand still, and a cold shivering run through their veins. " And in a hall, hung with black, and lighted with a reddish lamp, seven men, clad in purple, with crowned heads, were sitting on iron seats. " And in the midst of the hall was raised a throne made of dead men's bones, and at the foot of the throne, by way of a footstool, was a pros- trate crucifix: and before the throne there was an ebony table, and upon the table a vase full of red foaming blood, and a human skull. " And the seven crowned men appeared pensive and sad, and from the bottom of their deep sockets their eyes from time to time darted sparks of livid fire. " And one of them, having stood up, approached the throne with tottering step, and put his foot upon the crucifix. * From tjie " Paroles d'an Croyantby the celebrated Abbe de la Mennais (whose correspondence with the Pope has lately made such a noise in Europe.)AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 221 ct Immediately his limbs trembled, and seemed ready to faint; the others beheld him motionless, they did not make the least movement; but I know not what passed over their faces, and a smile, which is not of man, contracted their lips. 66 And he who seemed ready to faint stretched forth his hand, seized the vase full of blood, poured some of it into the skull and drank it. " And that draught seemed to strengthen him. " And forthwith his hair bristled; this cry issued from his breast like a low rattle in the throat, c Cursed be Christ, who has brought back liberty on earth.' " And the six other crowned men rose up to- gether, and they all at once sent forth the same ejaculation, 4 Cursed be Christ, who has brought back liberty on earth.' " After which, having resumed their iron seats, the first said: " My brothers, what shall we do to stifle liberty ? For our reign is over if it commences. Our cause is the same. Let each propose what he deems good. " For my part, this is my advice. Before Christ came, who stood erect before us 1 It is his religion that has destroyed us. Let us abolish the religion of Christ. " And all replied, It is true. Let us abolish the religion of Christ.222 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 44 And a second advanced towards the throne, took the human skull, poured some of the blood into it, drank, and said: " It is not religion alone that we must abolish, but knowledge and thought besides; for know- ledge wishes to discover that which it is not good for us that man should know; and thought is always ready to resist power. " And all replied, It is true. Let us abolish knowledge and thought. " And having done what the two first had done, " A third said, when we shall again have plunged men into brutality, by depriving them of religion, and knowledge, and thought, we shall have done a good deal; but there will remain for us something still to do. " The brute has instinct and dangerous sympa- thies; we must take care that no people hear the voice of another people, lest if the latter should complain and make a movement, the former may be tempted to imitate. Let no news from foreign parts enter our respective dominions. " And they all replied, It is true. Let no news from foreign parts penetrate our dominions. u And a fourth said, we have our interests, and the people also have their interests opposed to ours. If they unite to defend those interests against us : how shall we resist them ? " Let us divide, in order to reign. Let usatt allegorical tale. 223 create in each province, in each eity> in each ham- let, an interest opposed to that of the other ham- lets, the other cities, and the other provinces. " In this manner all will hate each other, and they will not think of uniting against us. " And all replied, It is true. Let us divide, in order to reign : concord would destroy us. " And a fifth having twice filled with blood, and twice emptied the human skull, said : " I approve of these measures, they are good, but insufficient. Make brutes; it is well: but frighten those brutes, strike them with terror by an inexorable law, and by atrocious punishments, if you do not wish to be, sooner or later, devoured by them. The hangman is the first minister of a good prince. " And all replied, It is true. The hangman is the first minister of a good prince. " And a sixth said: " I acknowledge the advantage of prompt, ter- rible, inevitable punishments. However, there are strong and desperate minds, which brave punish- ments. " If you wish to govern men at your ease, soften them by voluptuousness: virtue is not good for us; it nourishes strength. Let us exhaust it by corruption. " And all replied, It is true. Let us exhaust strength and energy, and courage by corruption. " Then the seventh, having, like the others,224 an allegorical tale. drank from the human skull, spoke as follows, with his feet on the crucifix: " No more of Christ/; there is war to the death; eternal war between him and us. " But how detach the people from him ? It is a rain attempt. What is to be done, then? Listen to me. We must gain oyer the priests of Christ—by money, by honours, and by power. " And they will command the people in the name of Christ to be submissive to us in all things whatever we may do, whatever we may order. " And the people will listen to them, and they will obey through conscience, and our power will be more secure than before. " And they all replied, It is true. Let us gain over the priests of Christ. " And all of a sudden the lamp which lighted the hall went out, and the seven men separated in the darkness. " And it was said by a just man, who at that mo- ment was watching and praying before the crucifix, My day approaches; adore, and fear nothing." " Such was my dream: that gang of bandits must be what it alludes to.—O mother (allow me hence- forth so to call you) the account you give of them alarms me. What are they now about?"—" Indeed, my son, they are forming a deep and daring con- spiracy against the lives, liberty, and happiness of mankind; the human blood which you saw theman allegorical tale. 225 drink out of the skull, is for the purpose of binding them more firmly to the common obligation, by the mutual consciousness of so atrocious an act." " Mother, they do not appear so numerous, and how can they succeed in their wicked conspiracy against the rest of the human race V9—" The peo- ple, my son, at first foolishly invested them with the power, and the means of preserving and abusing it, and these despots and their minions, which are known by the designation of aristocracy, have ever since proved themselves too cunning and too strong for the infatuated people who created them, yet have the insulted people at intervals, sprung from their lethargy, and brought some of the op- pressors of the world to the block."—" O mother, what a curse of nations is aristocracy!"—"The hea- viest, my son, that angry Heaven ever inflicted upon the world."—" The vampires suck the life-blood of the people; mother, I saw them drink it." 46 They crush them, my child, with tyranny and thraldom: they tax the necessaries of life; even the air and light of heaven, the common property of all earthly beings, nay more, the intellect and conscience of man are taxed, persecuted, and in- vaded, to support the pomp, profligacy, and glut- tony of a rapacious, devouring, demoralizing aristocracy!! Could not this be resisted and punished, if the people had the grace of firmness, unanimity, and concert ?" l 2226 AN ALLEGORICAL TALIL " True, my son, but the aristocracy which iii* eludes the tyrants of the earth, by means of cor- ruption and partiality divide the people, set them at one another in mutual animosity and conflict, till one party is subdued, both exhausted, the enemy laugh and look on, and thus at will and pleasure they plunder, persecute, and enslave them."—" Mother, I see in many places, as I look around, large bodies of people assembled ? the greatest disorder and dismay prevails: men in a sort of livery or uniform with deadly weapons in their hands : men, women, and children, in con- sternation : widows weeping, orphans crying for food ; all confusion and dismay. I see there, cattle, clothes, provision, and poor household fur- niture ; hundreds of ragged, squalid, oppressed people, with fear and despair in their aspects. I see there a ferocious wicked looking man, saying something in a loud voice, with a large hammer in his hand, which he repeatedly knocks on a table before him ; near him stands a slick, sensual, corpulent, bluff, merciless looking man, in black, with the men in arms around him; this black man seems to direct and command the whole pro- ceeding. Ha! what! I see the people fall and bleeding : there, by an engine that emits fire and smoke; there, with naked shining weapons. Now ! ah! now the slaughter is general, the peo- ple dead, or dying, in all directions. See theAN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 227 blood of man streaming! the shrieks and lamen- tations rend the heart! the cruel and atrocious massacre of this day will ever cry to heaven for vengeance. O! the brutal infernal tragedy!!" " That is a tithe auction, my son, nothing new in that quarter; the traders in religion have per- petrated more wickedness, and loaded themselves with more infamy in their tithe-hunting ravages, than fire and water can abolish. They have shed more human blood than a man-of-war could ride in. The hammer-man, you see, is the auctioneer, who cants off the blanket and potatoe of the widow and orphan, the goat and ass of the poor cottier. The fat saucy man in black, is the tithe-eating voluptuous cleric, who, voracious as a harpy, and callous and inhuman as an Old Bailey executioner, gorges and plunders and revels on the vitals and life-blood of the destitute poor; lazy, idle, un- charitable, and cruel, without the fear or shame of God or man he lives and dies, the drone and hornet, and devourer of his fellowT-creatures. " Those you see accoutred in uniform dress, and deadly weapons, are-" " Pray, mother, before you proceed farther, will you explain to me what a tithe-eating cleric means--for I would like to know." 6< He is, my son, the incubus that paralyses the energies of man—mars his industry, revels at will and pleasure on his life, liberty, and pro-228 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. perty—a public plunderer; who lives by rapine and violence ; who wrests from the people the fruit of their toil and care, and without pity or remorse, or giving any thing in return ; consigns the widow and the orphan to famine, desolation, and utter ruin : a monstrous compound of avarice, duplicity, and cruelty; Bifrons custos bos fur sus atque Sacerdos. 66 O mother, that is a long name, I never thought that any thing here below, or even farther down5 had such a name." " Not quite a name, my'son, but the words express a few of the quali- ties and characteristics of a thorough going tithe- eater. I will explain to you. Bifrons—every day lie preaches. Custos—of all within his reach is. Bos—among his neighbour's wives. Fur—in gathering in his tithes, Sus—at every parish feast. On Sunday, Sacerdos—a Priest. to you, my child, all innocent and inexperienced as you are : know then, that Bifrons means the double-faced knave who preaches justice, charity, modesty, and forbearance, 4 trippingly on the tongue,' while the white of one eye is turned up to the skies, the other ogles on the breau sex in the pews and galleries; his heart meantime fixed on the poor man's goat, ass, and pig, and on the potatoe pot, threadbare blanket, and hen of the widow andAN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 229 orphan; and the tenth herring and oyster of the perishing fisherman. " Custos expresses his fraud and robbery, in sweeping to his own use all the goods of the com- munity within his iron grasp ; regardless of justice, morality, public opinion, or any law human or divine. " Bos, a bull—means, that the animal is so pampered with idleness and sensuality, that he will not restrain his bad passions. 'f Fur, a thief—shews the fraud and craft and cruelty of the eater, who gathers, plunders, and sweeps to himself the tithe-pig, tithe-hen, tithe- egg, and all that comes within his covetous range. 6 4 Sus, a sow—declares the devouring voracity of the eater; and what an enormous glutton he is, at the expense of his neighbours, to the starva- tion and utter ruin of his fellow-creatures. " Sacerdos, a priest—exhibits him on every Sunday displaying hypocrisy, duplicity, and cant, in that holy station, the veneration or responsi- bility of which he neither feels nor respects." " I now understand the nature and properties of the devourer of the people, the tithe-eater. He is a stalking mass of enormity and oppression. He violates every behest of the decalogue, and com- mits sin wholesale, without fear or shame of God or man. He covets his neighbour's goods, without exception; and by force, fraud, violence, and230 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. bloodshed, he appropriates what does not belong to him, without mercy, remorse, or remuneration, or respect for age, sex, or condition. But what's this ? I see a gorgeous equipage, four dashing chargers—with attendants in gro- tesque attire ; a vehicle glittering, beaming, large enough for the residence of a small family; con- taining a proud pampered plethoric personage, lolling within, in fat contented indolence; the crouds staring and gazing as it prances along. Who, or what, is it ? Who is the bloated occu- pant?"—"That is a bishop, my son, one of the mock modest, pious followers of St. Peter, and the poor fishermen ; a minister of the gospel of salvation ; and a vicar of the Saviour of man."—" And did St. Peter, or the Saviour of the world, drive in coaches and six, with such retinues, and body guards, trembling at their nod?"—" No, my son, Peter and his brother Apostles were of the poorest of the earth, without even staff or scrip; the Saviour of man shivered in a cold manger; his coach and six was an ass's colt, and he had not a place to lay his head on."—" Then, mother, his kingdom was not of this earth ?"—" No, my son, he was doing the will of Him that sent him; by example and precept reclaiming the world : the meek man of sorrow, patient and suffering, 'till at last he laid down his life for the eternal salvation of mankind. He never took his place among the nobles of theAN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 231 land, (as our P—Is and PI—nk—ts would say) nor was his coach and six, nor his wife's feathers and diamonds drenched with the tears of the widow and orphan, nor loaded with the execrations of the laborious and industrious, whom he oppressed and spoliated. He was all truth, charity, and self-de- nial, but his false followers are all deceit, rigour, arrogance, and pride. Look at the stern eye, the haughty brow, the proud repulsive bearing, and the pampered body, of that man in the coach."— 66 O, mother, I see all: are such men the followers of St. Peter and feeders of the flock? I would rather think them fleecers and flayers. Do they ever think of death ? Do they think of a future state, and a day of reckoning?"—" About that, child, they seem indifferent and desperate, as if setting at nought all virtue, piety, and public opinion ; all sense of responsibility here or here- after; they comport themselves, in word, deed, and demeanour, as if they were to live for_ever ; but their days are numbered, and their hour fast approaching." "Then, are bishops worth nothing? do they not perform some or any duty?"—"Yes, they eat, drink, revel, and sleep ; and sleep, and revel, and eat, and drink; they covet the goods of others; plunder and trample the rest of mankind, and take to themselves at will and pleasure, what they give nothing for."—" Then they are prodigal, de-232 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. vouring idlers! precious members of society the bishops ! It is not so in your armies, navies, and schools of education ; those institutions peculiarly devoted to your worship, potent and venerable Minerva !!— Does not the community expect that every one will do his duty?"—" Yes, it was so said, and most truly, by a distinguished votary and favourite of mine, my heroic son, Nelson, who died gloriously in defence of his king and country. He in the heat of battle exclaimed—4 England ex- pects that every man will do his duty /' a noble ap- peal but unnecessary to my British sons."—" Then he was more worthy than the bishops."—"Yes, my son, He, the glorious Nelson, was worth all the bishops the establishment ever saw, or ever will see."—"Then, why are the bishops an exception to the golden rule of the immortal hero?"—" The mitres have hitherto been considered co-ordinate with the crown, which they have ever embarrassed and encumbered. The folly of the people has pampered them with idlenessand enormous wealth, thus they have overgrown all moderation and restraint, and are become utterly reckless and unmanageable, a gross and grievous error truly; but the rising intelligence, and spirit of the age will soon correct it. The schoolmaster is abroad, aye, and with a rod of scorpions in his hand, to whip all incorrigible delinquents into good be- haviour ; the bishops first, for they are universallyAN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 233 made up of pride, idleness, avarice, and cupidity. There may be a slight exception of one in a thou- sand."—" Are not the bishops, though they lack piety, charity and the other virtues, at least learned, accomplished, and eruditef'—"No, my son, except those who have been functionaries of my Univer- sities. The majority of those are from taste and habits distinguished scholars, but many of them, it must be owned, are dry, stunted, pragmatic, still covered with scholastic dust and pedantry."--- " But, however, venerable Minerva, bishops, rich and pampered, are said to be essential to the well- being of a state." " Granted, my son, if it can be proved, that they fight the battles, till the land, raise the fruits, instruct the youth, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and comfort the afflicted; but none of those things do they, and be sure that half a score of honest, industrious labourers, for example, precept, and usefulness, is worth the whole mitred bench."—" Do not the mitres add lustre to the gems of the crown'?"—" No, my son, these opaque and lurid masks emit only a morbid damp and shade, dim the lustre and contaminate the essence of the diadem: their contact is infectious. The British crown wants no meretricious ornaments, no hollow rotten reeds to support it, no mitres, shovel-hats, hypocrisy, arrogance, idleness, prodi- gality or lawn sleeves; its brilliancy and power are best preserved, nay invincible in the honest,234 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. devoted, and loving hearts of a brave, generous, high-minded and talented people."—" Then the State needs not the political alliance of the Church?" —" No, the Church is its bane and burthen, the incubus that cramps and oppresses it. The Church allied to the State, is like a dead carcase tied to a living being, ever soaking and exhausting its vitals, paralyzing its energies, distorting its features, drinking and devouring the life-blood; the union is pernicious and monstrous."—" Then what is the Church established, and so richly endowed for V' —c: For no other purpose, it seems, than to pro- vide high and idle places, for the sons of what is termed Aristocracy. For all the boobies of that class, (and its hotbeds are prolific of such weeds,) though utter imbeciles, for any station, are destined for the Church, and thought good enough for it." —66 Then the Church is the refugium pecccttorum" —"You may say so, my son, the black gowns, lawn, and mitres, hide a multitude of sins."— 4 4 The bishops being so pampered and exalted at the expense of the nation, and to the bane of its prosperity, are they not favourable to popular rights and happiness."—" No, child, the very con- trary, they ever are the persevering, unmitigated foes of freedom or national happiness, and look with the envy and malignity of demons on every measure for the relief or comfort of the nation."— "This is impious and monstrous; scandalous toAN ALLEGORICAL TALK. 235 holy religion, and should no longer be endured." —" It will not be endured, my son, the axe is whetting for the root, and will be soon ready." —"Is there any necessary connection between wealth and piety ?"—" Not the least, my son; the least wealthy are the most pious and industrious, because they rely on the people for the meed of their merits, which they labour by every word and deed to exhibit and advance. Such is the beauty of dependance and responsibility, the one party labours to merit, the other to requite, both are pleased; and peace, harmony and content prevail." —" Why then consider the union of wealth and religion so indispensable in the established Church?" —" I have told you, to provide luxury and ease for worthless Aristocrats."—661 thought every one who entered the Church had a call."—" Yes, my son, but not a divine or holy call. The pampered blockheads have a call for the loaves and fishes, and revelry of a rich unaccountable Church ; but holy religion rejects and repudiates lazy sensual drones, without learning, piety, modesty or pru- dence. A dry scholastic stepson of mine, called Tom Ferns, asserts that the Church must be crammed and pampered to induce men of qualities to enter it."—"What qualities?"—'* Those above mentioned, my son : bad qualities those truly, but from all I have heard and seen, an established Church is the bane of a well moraled state : and236 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. that Aristocracy is as bad, and the sooner the crying vices of both are abated the better." "Mother, I sufficiently understand the spirit and nature of a tithe-eater, will you now recur to the men in uniform, and inform me what they are?" " Yes, child—Those you see accoutred in uniform dress and deadly weapons, are called the army of the State, fed, clothed and cherished by the peo- ple, for the purpose of supporting the dignity and honour of the realm abroad, and order and security in person and property at home, They are now forced to become bailiffs, and proctors, and la- bourers, to the tithe-hunters; to the great scan- dal and disgrace of that noble and honourable service. You are to observe, my son, that those remorseless tithe-eaters give nothing, do no service, for what they thus plunder and spoliate, at the expense of justice, religion, and humanity, and of all law, human and divine." " And, mother, are the national troops so mean and brutal, as to turn against their countrymen, (perhaps their fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, for I see the monsters before me spare neither age nor sex,) those arms confided to them, for the people's pro- tection?" uYes, my child, the soldiers of this day are degenerate: corruption has so vitiated and debased them, they seem fit and ready made instruments for any barbarity. It grieves me to see my votaries so base and barbarous." 46 Ian allegorical tale. 237 knew not, mother, that you had anything to do with wars and arms." " My son, I was born armed, and sprung in full panoply from the brain of Jove : war, arts, erudition are my province. In just and necessary cases, I attend every cam- paign, every expedition, and under my auspices the righteous never fail: but on the bloody, beastly, civil war now before me, I will collect the exe- cration of gods and men. I will inspire my soldiery with honour, humanity and kindred affections, and with a just horror of the degrada- tion of being made plunderers, murderers, and menials to impious and devouring tithe-hunters." " O mother, it is enough! replace the film on my eye! I can no longer bear to see the wicked- ness of demons in human shape, on every side before me—blood-thirsty despots, tyrannic cabi- nets, ravaging aristocracies, and impious priest- hoods. Unhappy am I ! doomed to sojourn on earth, and share the lot of man, I think it better like him, to encounter each evil unforeseen as it comes, than to see myself constantly surrounded, as I now am, by unutterable wickedness." "I now replace the film on your eyes," said she, " and limit your sight to its former dimen- sions. You have seen sufficient of the crimes and vices of this wicked world, to caution and guard you, in your progress through it. The ordeal, to which fate has doomed you, is a severe one ; the238 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. dangers and vexations, that daily beset the weary mortal are countless; and his escape for any period even by the utmost care and circumspection must be providential. You have the advantage of your fellow-sufferers. You will, I trust, profit by what you have seen and heard: be fortitude and prudence your polar stars. Forget me never, bear my precepts arid warnings in mind ; on these conditions, Minerva, whose care and protection have yet preserved you, will not desert you, during your sublunary probation.....Why, contrary to my advice, had you crossed the limits of that paradise of delight in which I had placed you ; were it not for my friendship and timely aid, your immortality had been the forfeit of your rashness and disobedience : be admonished and stray no more ; within these bowers all is bliss; but the labyrinths of error and utter ruin of the inexperienced, skirt the happy abode ; and count- less dangers lurk in ambush for the thoughtless adventurer." " Forgive my indiscretion," said Innocence, " and consider my utter simplicity, and inexperience ; knowing no cause of fear, I had no apprehension that I was incurring your displea- sure, but I had seen wonders before 1 was observed by you. The most delightful objects of nature and the most melodious sounds, vocal and instru- mental, soothed my soul and delighted my senses, I was in transports." " My son," said Minerva,AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 239 "it is the voice of the Syren you have heard, that monster that lures the unwary to destruc- tion/' He was willing to be convinced, but the Syren's song overpowered him; his imagination was all engrossed; pleasure with all its fascina- tions stood in full array before him. " I perceive," said Minerva, " that new fancies and vain wishes agitate your mind. Yes, your blushes proclaim the fascinating power that draws you, and, under the influence of a cruel enchant- ment, the love of variety hurries you to the point of attraction, the world ! Such is your destiny, but still," continued she, 46 my affection would communicate to you, a secret charm by which you will be enabled to steer safe through vicissitudes. In the moment of danger, and in the hour of calamity, think on your Minerva, and her power will aid and preserve you. You are now on the point of launching into the world." So saying, the Goddess took a tender leave of the youth; in an instant, as if by divine power, he found himself standing alone, unknown and destitute in the midst of a great city.....The diversity of people and of objects, surprised and pleased him; asocial feeling warmed his heart, and he accosted several persons, but in the simplicity of his nature, con- fessing that he was poor and a stranger, he was repulsed by all. . . . Pride, in the character of a prelate, inveighed against vagrants. Pros-240 AH ALLEGORICAL TALE. perity, represented by a courtier, in a tone of chil- ling indifference, declared that the poor were no concern of his. ..... Avarice, personified by an old miser, desired the pauper, go and sell him- self for gold. ..... And Hypocrisy, under the semblance of a mighty good sort of woman, offered the poor youth her blessing, at the same moment that she refused to his necessities a crumb of bread. Innocence shocked and dispirited thought on his Minerva ; and a noble building then appearing in view, he felt himself irresistibly impelled to the spot. As he hurried forward, a female of a sedate and modest air, approached to meet him ; she was lovely but pensive; a thousand tender endear- ments sported round her, and the sweet expression of her heavenly countenance seemed to declare to him things unutterable. Awed by the deep reflection which varied her every smile, the youth respectfully bent a knee, and the Matron in an attitude of grief and love, hung over him. 64 Oh, Innocence !" cried she, " why did you leave your native shades ? But since the Gods have willed it so, know that I am your mother." After a pause of feeling, in a voice plaintive, and scarcely audible, she continued, " I am called Hope.....And, yonder is the temple of Genius,AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 241 a prize is to be awarded to poetry this day, come on, and prefer your claim." Hope now conducting him forward, Innocence entered the great hall ; it was filled with can- didates, and Genius, the presiding divinity, ap- peared seated on a throne raised above the mul- titude. She wore no ornament, nor needed.—She was without them all splendour and comeliness. The light of her mind beamed on her countenance and shed a celestial halo round her. Little beings of angelic mien, supposed to be her votaries5 closely attended her, and attracted much of her attention. They saw at her feet, a sublime figure, not perceptible to mere mortals— 44 Time motionless, sleeping on the ruins of worlds" Now Genius leaned forward to her harp, that spark of divine fire which animates and electrifies the world was now displayed in her looks and attitude; she turned her eyes upwards, and at the moment seemed "rapt inspired!!"—then, as if unconsciously, touching the strings of her lyre, she seemed to recover from her apparent reverie by the divine tones she struck; she caught up a crown of laurel placed near her, and exhibited it with such expression of countenance as filled the whole assembly with awe and veneration. This being the signal for the candidates to ad- vance their pretensions, all now speaking at once, M242 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE* none could be distinctly heard. A scene of tu- mult then ensued ; it seemed to be the general business there to impede each other's progress; when any of the candidates succeeded so far as to attract the notice of the Goddess, he was over- powered by the crowd and thrown back. Innocence supplicated in vain to maintain order; he was jostled and abused, and in the concourse of people having lost sight of jhis mother, quite exhausted by the struggles he had made, he fell to the ground ; but in the bitterness of his anguish the friendly promises of Minerva recurred to him. In an instant the divine influ- ence prevailed # # # # and Judgment ordered the temple to be cleared of all pretenders...... Presently the youth found himself standing alone before the judgment-seat of Genius, and the pene- trating glance of that power sinking into his soul; he hung his head abashed and subdued....... Hope, aware of the timidity of her son, again ap- peared, and hastened to his assistance. Innocence now felt himself inspired and encouraged, and Genius, pouring upon him a flood of light, the impression on his heart was irresistible. Believing himself a poet, he felt like one; and perceiving a lyre within reach he eagerly seized it, and uniting its bewitching chords, he commenced a fine prelude, and sang extempore the praises of Wisdom and the glory of Genius !!.........AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 243 The verse and harmony were appropriate to the occasion, and as he concluded Genius let fall the crown of laurel upon his head; a flourish of trumpets struck up, and he was instantly pro- claimed victor!.......As he passed out of the temple, the applauses of the populace, and suffrages of the great, opened a new scene of triumph ; flowers and perfumes the most exquisite were profusely scattered in his path; princes and potentates came forth to meet him, and the palaces were thrown open to greet and receive r\ i *y\ *3? w W w w w w w "7T *7r *7? w Why did the ancients speak of destiny as if they were terrified at the name? They meant that fatality over Genius, which by an impercep- tible force, precipitates it into misfortune, or, to express it more plainly, renders persons of exalted minds beyond all others so susceptible of the pain of disappointment and suffering. Coarse, callous, and vulgar souls only feel for self, and within that narrow limit all their sympathies are confined. They follow the common course of nature; they habitually go through the animal functions, and perhaps their most sublime thought is that sensual gratification, common even to the brute creation. But, the poet cannot contain the God that works within him, whence his soul pours forth with the majesty and charm of divinity. He is a being of imagination, and his life may be compared to a244 AN ALLEGORICAL TALE. waking dream......But, annihilate his ideal happiness, let him be banished from the region of fancy, and, as if he left his spirit behind him, he walks exanimate here below. When young Genius, designated Innocence by the Gods! pursuant to the fate he was doomed to, entered into the dull realities of this life, he was terrified at the desert that surrounded him, for he traversed the world without finding any thing that resembled himself. His successes on his first essay excited the ire of the demon Envy, and which way soever he turned, that basilisk would dart the evil eye at him, and scare him to the verge of death......By this means his mind was clouded by apprehension and terror; he be- came insensible to every thing but the fiend which pursued and seemed ready to destroy him :--at length, feeling the insufficiency of his hollow joys, and the vanities of the world, he deeply lamented his lost happiness, and exclaimed, Ah, why did I leave my Minerva ? The penitence of the youth broke the spell upon him, and as false pleasures receded from his view, his Minerva, hitherto wrapt in cloud, stood un- veiled before him. . ... . . . Her protege, being now a proselyte to reason and philosophy, was instantly relieved from the painful burthen of his cares, and lifted on the wing of the genius into a new sphere ; his intellect no longer obscured, heAN ALLEGORICAL TALE. 245 recognizes on every side the delightful plains and hospitable shades of his native solitude. Sweet was thy return, oh Innocence! to the calm retreat congenial to thy heart and nature, where far removed from the perils and tumults of human life which theretofore surrounded thee; soft, sublime, pure, and permanent were thy joys when restored to the bosom of thy Minerva ; you drank deep at the fountain of all sweets—the nectar of life, called—contentment!! ####### #*#####" A NEW EARTH, A NEW HEAVEN." A FRAGMENT." A NEW EARTH, A NEW HEAVEN." A FRAGMENT. Knowledge is Power. Lord Bacon. . Otto, an experienced chief, and hero of a hundred battles! founded an empire in the East. Having arrived at the summit of his ambition- Sovereign power—the immense height caused his senses to grow giddy, and mistaking the object of true greatness, he neglected the public trust, and attended only to the voice of his passions. To satisfy his inordinate desires, the public treasures were delivered up to him, and soon exhausted in every species of luxury. The favours of the fair were bought and sold, a revenue was decreed to parasites and panders, and the pleasures of the court, and the homage of courtiers, were purchased at the dear rate of extortion, taxation, and the uni- versal misery of the people. Murmurs and rebel- lion shook the throne, and general discontent prevailing, Otto, at length, roused by the clamour which threatened his authority, made the follow-250 A NEW EARTH, ing reflections: "O Fortune! woe is in the balance of thy favours! 'Tis thy hostility that crushes princes and states, and the strength of wisdom only is adequate to resist you.....O the reverse!! the conqueror of nations subdued by his own passions! Unhappy Otto!! the bitterest reproaches to thy present degradation is the list of thy past triumphs." . . . . " Fortune," continued he, " thou smiling cheat, how hast thou deluded me? In search of happiness I have squandered my precious peace, and drained my kingdom. O, season of reflection and penitence! Why not thy visitation a little sooner? O, consciousness and recollection! Why thy admonition so long delayed While the prince thus soliloquized, heaviness stealing upon him, he fell asleep, and dreamed that finding himself on the summit of a lofty pre- cipice, behold! the whole face of nature was changed . .... he imagined that he saw into all time, past, present and future!! What a re- view! the several generations of mortals, with their attendant cares and passions, all passing be- fore him !!!.....then a confusion of sounds, as if a medley of voices at a distance, in which were distinctly heard the inordinate demands of ambition; the din of war, the eager cries of avarice, the groans of despair, the yell of revenge, the sighs of love and tenderness. Such being theA NEW HEAVEN. 251 picture of the past, here revealed to Otto, the next course of things was reflected in vision, bright, clear, and convincing. The world, bounded by a great body of light extending over it, exhibited a " New Earth, a New Heaven /" The green turf, enamelled with flowers, was planted with groves of laurel, interwoven with myrtles and roses, and other flowering shrubs. Persons, numerous as the sands on the shore, appeared amid the trees, chanting hymns of joy; others, crowned with garlands, the statues and busts of wise men, in- terspersed throughout the groves. Music played transporting strains, accompanied by sweet vocal sounds, soft and soothing; at that moment a venerable figure of majestic mien approached the prince; his garment was pure white, like snow upon the mountain, and flowed loosely round him ; his beard, which was silvered o'er by time, reached to his knees, and he held a large folio volume open in both his hands. u O, Otto!" said he, " be instructed." " Who are you?" said the prince.—" Philoso- phy! is my name," replied the sage, " and all the glories you now witness are my work ; by me alone are the works of nature aided and em- bellished ; she labours to increase and diffuse life, my object is to improve and preserve it. Look back," continued Philosophy, " on the old world,252 A NEW EARTH, and compare it with the new."—66 There," said the prince, " I saw misery and death, but, in the prospect now before me, all is happiness settled, un- alterable."—" Indeed, it is true !" said Philosophy, " and wherefore ? In early ages ignorance quashed my researches ; hence natural right was unknown, and hence the whole train of evils which infest the life of man. Rank superstition, religious fanaticism, the love of power and accumulation !! Hence originated tyrants and slaves! oppression and despair! the overthrow of kingdoms, and the ruin of nations." Thus Philosophy addressed the prince, and he, affected by the force of truth, felt a generous sensation play round his heart. Philo- sophy attentively observed : 66 O," cried the sage, 4 6 would man but hear the voice of reason and re- flection, how soon would he, in the knowledge of himself, confound imposing ignorance, and be happy.".....The prince much affected, cast himself at the feet of Philosophy, and exclaimed, 44 O, spirit of truth! teach me that most delicate art; let me know true enjoyment, for at present I am involved in ignorance and in error." Hereupon, Philosophy displayed the " mirror of truth." # # # * # * <£ He extended a sceptre of massive gold, de- " corated with emeralds and sapphires......A NEW HEAVEN. 253 " He then took a handful of aromatic herbs, and " rubbed them gently upon his temples...... " He saw all the capital cities of Europe ; London, " Paris, Vienna, Berlin, and Petersburg." " He saw presidents in their chairs, and trea- " sures at their side......Lecturers declaim- " ing upon the beauty of morality and the defor- " mity of vice......Professors unlocking the " hidden treasures of nature, and explaining the " various systems by which air, and earth, and u fire, counteract and sustain each other. " He saw asylums and institutions for the ig- " norant and helpless: he saw youth instructed, " age protected, the afflicted comforted, and the " diseased cured. Cc He saw the effect of revolutionary commo- " tions. " He saw the Western and Eastern world. " Black men starting up, and shouting, We are " free!! " He was about to turn his eyes to Persia and " India, to China and Japan, when he perceived " that the mirror, with all its magical illusions, " had vanished away. " A hundred varied coloured wings sprung from " her arms, and her feet seemed to be shod with " sandals of rubies, around which numerous " cherubs entwined themselves. The perfume that c< arose from the flapping of her wings was inex-254 A NEW EARTH, 66 pressibly grateful, and the soft silvery voices of " these cherubic attendants, had an effect truly " enchanting. " He gazed with rapture upon-ah ! ex- " claimed he, this is a vision of happiness never " to be realized. Thou art a being that I am " destined never to meet with in the world " below."* " Read the science of ages in the page of history," said Philosophy, 46 and the wisdom of experience will be revealed to you......Look among the ashes of the wise, and the records of antiquity!! there you will find moral and equi- table rules of conduct, and sound reason will exalt you above the influence of your passions; you will then distinguish your weak and ephemeral throne from my kingdom. An approaching pe- riod, when the united exertions of religion and philosophy, shall soften the hearts of mankind towards each other; the result will be reluctance to give pain !! then, and then only, will the divine design of the Christian religion and nature appear ; joy shall fill the mansions of the earth, and happi- ness will be universal.....Such is the futurity unveiled in the distance; and, as men advance in virtue and knowledge, progressive improvement will enchant the scene—and the brightness of * The Mirror of Truth.A NEW HEAVEN. 255 truth, every where present, the peace and weal of society, thus rendered secure, 0, prince ! in the harmony of fraternal regards, the human race will arrive at felicity.".....So saying, Philo- sophy disappeared; and the prince starting up, in pursuit of the sage—he awoke. # # # # # # ###### TO BE CONTINUED. ERRATA. Page 75, line 19, for faction read fraction. — 121, — 4, for hypocrite read hypocritic.Norman and Skeen, Printers, Maiden Lane, Covent Garden.This book is a preservation facsimile produced for the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. It is made in compliance with copyright law and produced on acid-free archival 60# book weight paper which meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (permanence of paper). Preservation facsimile printing and binding by Northern Micrographics Brookhaven Bindery La Crosse, Wisconsin 2014