« AnteriorContinuar »
from the earliest periods, until the more peaceful circum- ther that I'd like to be discoorsing these larned gentlemen stances of the nation permitted them to abandon their narrow here;' but indeed the larned gentlemen didn't seem a bit too and gloomy security for the beautiful residence of Kilcolgan, glad of his company, and small blame to them sure, for may an erection of the seventeenth century, the naked ruins of the heavens be his bed, there wasn't a funnier man in the nine which now form the chief feature in the landscape to the tra- counties, or one fonder of followin' up a joke, an' well they veller by the Grand Canal before he reaches Gillen. I am not knew he wasn't goin' to let them down aisy. aware any records exist to furnish a clue to the history It wasn't long until we were on the road again, makin' for of Garry Castle, nor have I been able to meet any one able to the town ; an'as we were goin' along, who did we meet but a give me any information about it, beyond the usual tirade spalpeen from the county Galway, that came over as soon as about Oliver Cromwell, who seems doomed to bear on his back he met us to beg among the quality; an' sure enough he was the weight of all the old walls in Ireland. One very old man, as poor-lookin' a crathur as ever axed a charity: His legs who in his youth had been, I believe, a servant of the Maw, were bare, and all blue and brackit with could an' hardship, was the only person in fact who seemed to know more about an' the sorra a skreed of dacint clothin' he had on bim but an it than that it was “an ould castle, an'a great place in the ould tattered breeches an'a blanket thrown over his shoulders ould times." From him I gathered a good many anecdotes and fastened at the throat with a big skiver ; he had a bag on of his former master, of which the following partly bears upon his back, an' a mether in one fist, an' a boolteen in the other; the present subject, and gives rather a good illustration of a an' if he had any more wealth about him, sure enough it was class of persons not unfrequently met with, who occasionally hid safely. By the discoorse we had one with another, he support most extraordinary pretensions by methods still more soon larned about the big stone, and how it puzzled all the extraordinary, claiming to be proficients in all the forgotten scholars in the parish, not to say them from Dublin, an' how lore of past ages, and even in their rags hinting at powers, the the priest refused to read it because it was magic; and betpossession of which would be rather enviable. The story is ther nor all, how the Maw offered five goold guineas to any an odd one, but I tell it exactly as I heard it.
poor scholar, or the like, that could explain it. “I had business into Banagher one day when I was a gos- I'd like to see that stone,' says the spalpeen. “Poor-lookin' soon, and just as I came to the hill over Garry Castle, I saw a as I am,' says he, ‘maybe I could insinse ye into the maining great crowd moving up the road forninst me. 'Lord rest the of it.' sowl that's gone,' says I, crossin' myself, for by coorse I Wall, sir, the words were scarce out of his mouth when thought it was a corpse goin' to All Saints' churchyard; but Mac Coghlan was tould of them. What's that you say, howhen it came nearer, and I saw the Maw in the front with a nest man,' says he ; 'can you decypher the writing ?' whole crowd of gentlemen, some that I knew and more that • I'd like to try anyhow, yer honour,' says the spalpeen ; I didn't, and ne'er a corpse at all with them, I made bould to 'worse than fail I can't.' ax Father Madden what might be the matther.
* Bedad,' says Father Madden, 'it 'ud be a pity not to let Why, my boy,' says he, * there's some gentlemen come all you ; sure if you say you know nothin' about it, wiser men the ways from Dublin to consther what's written on the big nor you had to confess that same; an'as for us, why, our time stone over the hall chinley in the ould castle beyant, and the will be as well spent listening to one dunce as to another.' rest of us are going to have the laugh at their ignorance.' Oh, by all manes,' says the Maw, ' we'll go back and hear
“'Deed, your riv'rince,' says I, an' it's the fine laugh we'll what he makes of it.' So we all turned back with the spalpeen. have in airnest, for sure the smallest gossoon in the country When he came to the stone, it's a different kind of look he could tell them 'twas written by the Danes long ago, and that gave it entirely from what the quality scholars did ; you'd it's an enchantment.'
know by the way he fixed his eye on it at the very first, that * Hould your tongue,' says he in return; 'whatever it is, I'll it was no saycret to him, an'he walked up an' down from one be bound it 'll puzzle them, for by the book I'm not able to end of the lines to the other, until he had them all read. read it myself.'
Now, my man,' says the Mac Coghlan, if you read it, there Troth, thin,' says I, “if that be the case, it's little sense ward is yours,' an' he took the five goold guineas out of his the likes of them will make out of it.'
an' showed them to him. By this time, sir, we got inside the ould gateway, and as * I can read it, yer honour,' says the spalpeen; but what the Maw's groom was a cousin of my aunt Peg's
, he let me it says might be displeasin' to soine of this company, an' I into the hall with the rest of the quality. There was the had betther hould my tongue.' stone, sure enough: a long narrow stone, all the length of the • By my word,' says Mac Coghlan, 'let who will be offended room, with four lines of writing cut on it, over the chimley. | by it, no part of the blame shall rest on your shoulders, so It was in the part of the ould castle that's down now. Well, speak out, an' speak true.' sir, one ould gentleman—they said he belonged to that college Well, yer honour,' says the spalpeen, takin' courage, off there in Dublin-takes his spectacles out of his pocket, an' 'what it says is this, that this castle was built on such a time, he puts them on his nose, quite grand like, and he looks at the an' that it will stand whole an' sound for three hundred writing. “It's not English,' says he, 'nor is it French,' says years an' no more; an' that it's to be held hy eleven Mac he after a little, “nor Jarman;' and then he takes another | Coghlan heirs, and the eleventh will be the last of his race.' look. It's not Latin,' says he, and the rest of the quality. “Bad news for the twelfth,' says Father Madden, 'to have shook their heads very wisely; 'it's not Greek,' says he, and an ould stone barrin' him out of the world that way ;' and they shook their heads again ; "it's not Hebrew,' says he, with that they all laughed, all but the Maw, an' he was as 'nor Chaldee, nor-pursuin' to me if I know what it is. pale as death an' stupid-like, for the three hundred years were
• Baidershin !' says Father Madden quietly: an' with that, just run out, an' he was the eleventh heir ; but in a minute or sir, you'd think the vault above our heads 'ud split with the two he recovered himself and joined in the laugh as well as roars of laughing. But the great scholar didn't join in it at the rest. all, but pulls the spectacles off his nose, and crams them into "Well, my man,' says he at last, you have done what all his pocket, and looking very big at the priest, 'I'm thinking the learned men in the land couldn't do, an' though the news it's Baulderdash, gentlemen,' says he.
isn't the pleasantest, you must have your reward. Now liston Well, sir, one after another they all tried their skill on it, to me: give up your wandering life and settle here ; I'll give and one after another they all had to acknowledge their igno- you a house an' five acres free of rent for ever : this money
will set you up, an' I promise you that you shall never want in * By the powers,' says the priest, ‘by yer talk one 'ud think my time, short as it is to be. Will you take my offer?' the hiryglyphics themselves were a Readin'-med-aisy to ye, an' Why, thin,' says the spalpeen, 'many thanks by coorse to here a plain bit of writin' puzzles ye.'
yer honour for makin' it ; but for all the land yer honour * Maybe, Father Madden,' says the Maw, “you'd favour us has, or one of your nanie ever had, I wouldn't live other than by consthering it yerself.'
I do: though I'm here now, 'tis many a mile from where I No, sir,' says the priest ; “my vow won't let me read ma- slept last night, or maybe from where I'll sleep to-night. gic; but if you'd wish me to thransport the stone anywhere Goold or silver avails me little, or if they did, maybe I could for you, or do any other little miracle that way, I'd be most tell where to find what 'ud buy Galway ten times over.' happy to obleedge you.'
• Bedad, honest man,' says Father Madden, “if you know so • Oh, no,' says the Maw, 'we'll not put you to that trouble; much as all that, it ’ud be a great charity entirely for you to but perhaps you would come down with us as far as the inn, stop awhile an open school here; I'll be bound you'll have a and have a bit of lunch.'
fine lot of scholars, an' I don't say but myself 'ud be among . With all the pleasure in life, sir,' says the priest, 'the ra- the number.'
• Troth there's many a man 'ud like to have my knowledge I have no doubt,' says the spalpeen ; “but I'm thinkin' there's
THE ROYAL FAMILY OF STATEN-ISLAND. few here or elsewhere 'ud like to learn in the school where I It has long been the general belief that the gipsy race, which
is found every where else, bas never yet penetrated into Ame• Lord save us !' says the priest ; 'you didn't sell yourself rica ; but the opinion is erroneous. There is a family on to the ould boy for it, did you, you nasty brute ?'
Staten-Island whose history and habits prove their Zingaro * I bought it with the past an' not with the future,' says the descent, despite the counter evidence of their white skins, spalpeen; • an' what ye saw of it is nothing to what I could patches of which may be seen through the rents of their tatshow if I had a mind: the blessin' of the poor be with your ters, like intervals of blue sky in a clouded empyrean. honour, if it be any use to you, an' it's wishin' I am that I had The patriarch of the horde was in his lifetime reputed an a luckier story to tell you,' and he turned to go away. Englishman, although upon this point no intelligence exists
: Well, my good fellow,' says the Maw, 'any how you're not in any parish register or book of heraldry-a matter the less to goin' to quit so soon. Neither gentle nor simple passes this be regretted that his birth is not likely to be disputed by rival road without eating with the Mac Coghlan, an' you must nations or cities. All that is certainly known of him is, that follow the rule as well as another : stay as long as you like, he made his appearance on the island about forty years ago, an' go when you like; an' I give you my word you shall have an incarnation of laziness and pauperism, accompanied by a the best of tratement, an' no one shall bother you with any biped of the feminine gender, whom, as God made her, we are questions you don't like.'
content to call a woman : they evinced no desire to hold fel• Yer honour,' says the spalpeen, 'I'm not a young man, lowship with their kind, but immediately plunged into the an' yet my head was never this many a night twice on the same woods, where they pertinaciously hid whatever talents and pillow, an' you'd be a long day findin' out the spot that in that merits they possessed. Probably the world used them ill, and time I havn't visited.”
like Timon they had left it in disgust. They built themselves Maybe you're the Wanderin' Jew,' exclaimed Father a hut of brushwood, and lived, unknowing and unknown, upon Madden.
the wild products of the soil and the sea-shore, the world for. • Jew or Gentile,' says the spalpeen, a wanderer I am, an' getting and the world forgot. No one was favoured with any
I a wanderer I must be; an' now good bye to ye all, an' God notice of their former history; they wrought not for hire, nor bless ye;' and with that away he walked, an' the never a did they seek to render themselves in the slightest degree usesight of him did any one in Banagher lay his eyes on since. ful to their fellow-creatures. They were satisfied with a bare, Some said he was this and some said he was that, and more mysterious existence, the objects of wonder and pity; and said he was a sperrit ; but what do ye think but the great only proved themselves human by increasing the population of scholars from Dublin, to hide their ignorance, gave out that Staten-Land with ten sons and daughters. he was somebody that Father Madden tuthored for the pur- In time the he-patriarch died, and his fame died with him ; pose to make little of thim an' their larnin', and have the but not till he had so indoctrinated his hopeful family, that laugh against thim.'
they have ever since followed his praiseworthy example. Next morning when all the counthry went out of curiosity | A short time since we paid these Children of the Mist a visit to see the big stone, they found it torn down an' carried off, at their residence, profiting by one of a thousand changes of for Mac Coghlan got it taken down in the night an' buried abode which brought them within an easy walk of the Quasomewhere ; but, any how, it tould nothin' but the truth, for rantine-Ground. Others may seek objects of interest abroad; in a few years afther, the castle fell with the frost, an' not long we are content with what may be found near home; and in afther that Mac Coghlan died; an’sure you know yourself that this singular family we found a happy practical illustration of he was the last of his name.”
A. M°C. the Golden Age, which poets so much regret, and agrarian
politicians so devoutly hope and expect to restore. By the margin of a stagnant swamp, rife with malaria and intermit.
tent fever, embosomed in thick woods, stood a pen of rough We should be grateful to any of our correspondents who boards, obtained heaven knows how, about ten feet square, would favour us with a biographical sketch of the last Mac into which about fifty specimens of animal life, human and caCoghlan, of whom so many stories are still related by the nine, were crowded. The den was roofed over, and refused peasantry of the King's County, and of whom the following entrance to the sun, but was by no means so inhospitable to sketch is given in Mr Brewer's Beauties of Ireland : it is from the rain. The four winds of heaven sought and found free the pen of the late Chevalier Colonel de Montmorency. P. ingress and egress through the chinks; the floor was not; and
“Thomas Coghlan, Esq.-or, in attention to local phrase- altogether we have seen much better appointed pig-styes. ology, the Maw' [that is, Mac), for he was not known or We first discovered our proximity to this Temple of the addressed in his own domain by any other appellation-was a Winds by the greeting of a herd of sorry curs, who made a reinarkably handsome man; gallant, eccentric; proud, sati- great noise, but retreated snarling, and with averted tails, at rical; hospitable in the extreme, and of expensive habits. In the first exhibition of a stone or a stick, as the dogs of the disdain of modern times he adhered to the national customs of aborigines are wont to do. A shrill, cracked, but clear voice Ireland, and the modes of living practised by his ancestors. from within, uplifted in energetic objurgation, stilled the claHis house was ever open to strangers. His tenants held their mour, and we entered upon a scene that beggars and defies lands at will, and paid their rents, according to the ancient description. We had seen poverty before, but had never an fashion, partly in kind, and the remainder in money: • The adequate conception of its extreme until now. Maw? levied the fines of mort main when a vassal died. He A bundle of rags, endowed with suspicious and alarming became heir to the defunct farmer; and no law was admissible, powers of locomotion, advanced to do the honours of the manor practised, within the precincts of Mac Coghlan's domain, sion. An unearthly squeak, that would have driven a parrot but such as savoured of the Brehon code. It must be ob- of any ear distracted, proclaimed that the thing was human; served, however, that, most commonly, the Maw's' com- and after close inspection we made out a set of features which mands, enforced by the impressive application of his horse- we could only have supposed to belong to Calvin Edson or whip, instantly decided a litigated point! From this brief the Witch of Endor. The head surmounted a withered atomy, outline it might be supposed that we were talking of Ireland from which every muscular fibre seemed to have dried away. early in the seventeenth century, but Mr Coghlan died not There was nothing left for Decay to prey upon : a particle more longer back than about the year 1790. With him perished of waste, and the fabric must have evaporated, or been scatthe rude grandeur of his long-drawn line. He died without | tered with the first puff, like a pinch of snuff. This was the issue, and destitute of any legitimate male representative to worthy mother of the brood. Age could not make her head inherit his name, although most of his followers were of the whiter. She must have been more than a century old, and sept of the Coghlans, none of whom, however, were strictly yet hearing, vision, speech, every faculty, was unimpaired, and qualified, or were suffered by the Maw,' to use the Mac, or she was as brisk as any of the horde. According to all apto claim any relationship witń himself. His great estate passed pearances, Time had lost all power over her, and she may yet at his decease to the son of his sister, the late Right Hon. live longer than the everlasting pyramids. Fancy a mummy Denis Boxes Daly, of Daly’s-town, county of Galway, who stalking from its case, and you have some idea of this speclikewise had no children, and who, shortly before his death in tral apparition. 1821, sold the Mac Coghlan estate to divers persons, the chief Around the den were arranged without arrangement four purchaser being Thomas Bernard, Esq. M. P., in whom the rude bedsteads, gultless then and for ever of beds, or any larger proportion of the property is now vested.”
succedaneum therefor ; these being unnecessary and enervat
ing luxuries, in the opinion of the inmates. Not one of these ther do they spin ; and assuredly Solomon, with all his wiswas born in a bed, or had ever pressed one, and why should dom, never dreamed of such a thing as one of these ! they not do as they had ever done? The only purpose of the Many have asked, as we did, and many more will ask, frames seemed to be to keep them from dying on the bare “How do these people live ?” Ask Him who feeds the ravens, earth. The whole score and a half of humanities might have for no one else can answer. That they do not work, is cerpossessed some four or five threadbare and tattered blankets, tain; that they neither beg nor steal, is to be inferred from such a stock of clothing as might have furnished forth one re- the fact that their fellow Staten-landers have never accused spectable scarecrow, and perhaps half a shirt among them; them, and that they have never undergone the rebuke of the but of the latter item we are somewhat uncertain, as we con law. They are as harmless and inoffensive as they are usesidered any particular scrutiny especially indelicate. The less. They are proverbially good-natured and honest; they but was literally full of trumpery, the use of most of which it do not get drunk, or abuse tobacco; for although some of were difficult even to guess. The following, as nearly as me- them have a relish for these luxuries, it would cost too much mory serves us, is a correct inventory :
trouble to earn the price of them. Otherwise, they are the An old worn-out saddle; three steel-traps; fifteen dogs, very Yahoos of Gulliver. bitches, and puppies ; about a crate full of damaged crockery Some philosophers have taught that content is the grand and pottery; an iron pot, without a bale or cover, and two desideratum, the greatest good of earthly felicity. The conlegs off; a tin kettle, with three holes in the bottom ; a fish- tentment of savages and of negro slaves is brought to support spear, an axe, a dozen fishing-rods and tackle; as many rags their position. It is true that these are happy under their as would set up a paper mill; about a peck of clams, a da- painful and degrading yoke ; but what of that ? Simon Stymaged bucket, and a great variety of other things nameless lites was no doubt happy on his pillow of torment: an ox, on and indescribable.
the same principle, and for the same reason, is happier still, These true philosophers all appeared to enjoy the most ro- and the life of an oyster is bliss superlative. “ The royal fabust health, with one exception, who was shaking with a pa- mily of Staten-Island” are an example before our eyes to show roxysm of ague on one of the frames before mentioned. The how closely contentment may be allied with the extremes of men were stout, hearty fellows, who might do their country degradation. From the Knickerbocker. good service at the tail of a plough or the end of a musket; but their ambition does not soar so high. They literally take no thought for to-morrow, though they very well know what
THE BLIND BOY,
On, mother, is it spring once more-
The same bright laughing spring
That used to come in days of yore day's labour, but these are rare and painful occasions, always
With glad and welcome wing ? followed by regret and repentance; and when their immediate
And is the infant primrose bom, wants are supplied, they return to the luxurious and indolent
And peerless daisy child repose, which is their second nature, and which they enjoy
Beneath the bowed and budding thorn, in a perfection only appreciable by the Neapolitan lazzaroni.
All beautiful and wild ? When they have thus been compelled to pass a night under a
And does the sky break out as blue roof, it has been remarked that no human logic can persuade
Between the April show'rs, one of them to submit to the abhorred contact of soap and water,
And smilingly impart its nue or to sleep in a bed, suppose any person could be found will
To her young vi'let flow'rs? ing so to accommodate them. They own no boats, and they
And is the sun, the blessed sun, neither hire nor borrow them. Such property requires care
As dazzling in his might, and trouble, and rowing is laborious. A cow was once the
As glorious now to look upon, apex of their ambition ; but hunger knocks often at their door,
As when I loved his light ?. and was fatal to poor Brindle. They are not rich enough to
As when, with clear and happy eye, buy a gun. The conies, partridges, snapping-tortoises, frogs,
Beneath that light I strayed, squirrels, and such small deer, are their focks and herds, and
Or in the noonday brilliancy the earth produces wild artichokes and other esculent roots.
Sought out some cooling shade ? As for their religion, they believe in beef and bread, and go
And when the spring flow'rs drop away, to church, like parasitical insects, as often as they are carried.
Will summer days come fast,
All rich with bloom-oh, mother, say!
As when I saw them last ? cage in the sunshine, with licence to scratch themselves, and to be well fed, constitutes their notion of heaven; and the
Will merry children gambol o'er county alms-house, where able-bodied people are constrained
The meads, or by the brooks
Seek out the wild bee's honey store to work, is the purgatory of their imagination, or something worse. They think it is better to sleep than to be awake,
In some deep grassy nook ? to lie than to sit, to sit than to stand, to stand than to walk,
Or where the sparkling waters flow and to walk than to run. Dancing is to them an incompre
Go wand'ring far away,
To cull the tallest reeds that grow, hensible abomination. They own no lord, they heed no law.
And weave them all the day ? They have nothing, and they want nothing. To cold, heat, rain, &c., they are perfectly indifferent, and their only known
And will they climb the tall old trees, evil is pain, which comes to them only in the shape of hunger
And at the topmost height and intermittent fever. Nerves and delicacy they never heard
Find birds of beauty, such as these of. Thus have they ever lived, and thus they will die.
That charm my long, long night ? The women at the time of our visit ditfered from the men
Or ranging o'er the wild morass only in attire, a superior volubility, a natural, rough-hewn co
Pluck the fair bog-down's head ? quetry, and the possession of certain brass trinkets, faded
Or o'er the long and slender grass ; ribbons, and other fantastic fineries. None of them were ei.
String berries ripe and red ? ther young or handsome enough to mark them as the victims
They will !--but I shall not be there : of man's villany, The smaller fry about their wretched
For me, oh! never more cabin attest that they have not in the least neglected the first
Shall spring put forth her blossoms fair, command of God to man, though no priest or preacher can say that he has received a wedding fee on account of either of
Yet think not, mother, if I weep. them. Their usual employment is to loll upon fences and ga
"Tis for the seasons' gleam; ther berries, and they are also said to be skilful in roots and
Or if I gladden in my sleep, herbs. Some of them sometimes go to service for a time;
'Tis of such things I dream, but they soon return to their lair, like a sow to her wallowing
No, mother, po !-'tis that thy cheek, in the mire. The alms-house has also afforded them an asy
Thy smile of tender joy, lum in cases of emergency, but they invariably escape from it
Thine eye of light, that used to speak as soon as there is any work to be done. They toil not, nei.
Such fondness to thy boy
Or summer shed her store !
It is the thought that that dear face
a glory and an honour. A penny, Andrew, breaks the silver, Oh, bitter, bitter pain !
shilling into coppers ; and twopence will buy balf a stone of Is blotted out through time and space
potatoes_that's a consideration. If we don't manage to keep For ever from my brain !
things comfortable at home, the women won't have the heart. My mother, darling, lay my head
to mend the coat. Not,” added James with a sly smile, “that Upon thy own lov'd breast,
I can deny having taken to TEMPERANCE CORDIALS myself." And let thy voice low music shed
“You!shouted Andrew, “ you, and a pretty fellow you are To lull thy child to rest ;
to be blaming me, and then forced to confess you have taken And press thy soft and dewy kiss
to them yourself. But I suppose they'll wear po hole in your Upon his beating brow,
coat ? Oh, to be sure not, you are such a good manager!" And let him feel, or fancy bliss
“ Indeed," answered James, “ I was anything but a good 'Tis all that's left him now.
manager eighteen months ago : as you well know, I was in What though the noonday's sunny prime
rags, never at my work of a Monday, and seldom on Tuesday, Can yield unnumbered charms,
My poor wife, my gentle patient Mary, often bore hard Give me the silent midnight time
words; and though she will not own it, I fear still harder That lays me in thy arms.
blows, when I had driven away my senses. My children For there I dream of joy and light,
were pale, half-starved, naked creatures, disputing a potato The things I once could prize,
with the pig my wife tried to keep to pay the rent, well Ere darkness threw its dreary blight
knowing I would never do it. Now Upon my glad young eyes.
“But the cordial, my boy!" interrupted Andrew, "the
cordial !—sure I believe every word of what you've been tell. And in the same bright dreamy thought,
ing me is as true as gospel ; ain't there hundreds, ay, thouI gaze upon once more
sands, at this moment on Ireland's blessed ground, that can My mother's face, with feeling fraught
tell the same story. But the cordial! and to think of your E'en deeper than of yore.
never owning it before : is it ginger, or anniseed, or pepperYet do not weep, my mother dear,
mint ?" Thy love is more than light
“ None of these—and yet it's the rale thing, my boy." Thy soothing hand, thy tender tear,
“Well, then," persisted Andrew, "let's have a drop of it; More blessed e'en than sight!
you're not going, I'm sure, to drink by yerself—and as I've And while that hand is clasped in mine,
broke the afternoon" My fault'ring steps to guide,
A very heavy shadow passed over James's face, for he saw I will not murmur or repine,
that there must have been something hotter than even ginger Or grieve for aught beside.
in the “ temperance cordial,” as it is falsely called, that AnBut, mother, when I soar away,
drew had taken, or else he would have endeavoured to redeem From life's drear darkness free,
lost time, not to waste more ; and he thought how much betOh! shall I not through heaven's long day
ter the REAL temperance cordial was, that, instead of exciting Live gazing upon thee !
the brain, only warms the heart. W, C. L.
No," he replied after a pause, “I must go and finish what I was about; but this evening at seven o'clock meet me
at the end of our lane, and then I'll be very happy of your THE REAL “TEMPERANCE CORDIAL.”
Andrew was sorely puzzled to discover what James's cordial * WELL," said Andrew Furlong to James Lacey, “well! could be, and was forced to confess to himself that he hoped it that ginger cordial, of all the things I ever tasted, is the would be different from what he had taken that afternoon, nicest and warmest. It's beautiful stuff; and so cheap." which certainly had made him feel confused and inactive.
“ What good does it do ye, Andrew ? and what want have At the appointed hour the friends met in the lane. you of it ?" inquired James Lacey.
“Which way do we go?" inquired Andrew. “ What good does it do me!" repeated Andrew, rubbing “Home,” was James's brief reply. his forehead in a manner that showed he was perplexed by “Oh, you take it at home ?” said Andrew, the question ; "why, no great good, to be sure; and I can't I make it at home," answered James. say I've any want of it; for since I became a member of the Well,” observed Andrew, “that's very good of the woman • Total Abstinence Society,' I've lost the megrim in my that owns ye. Now, mine takes on so about a drop of any head and the weakness I used to have about my heart. I'm thing, that she's as hard almost on the cordials as she used as strong and hearty in myself as any one can be, God be to be on the whisky.” praised! And sure, James, neither of us could turn out in My Mary helps to make mine," observed James. such a coat as this, this time twelvemonth."
" And do you bottle it or keep it on draught?" inquired " And that's true," replied James ; " but we must remem- Andrew, very much interested in the "cordial” question. ber that if leaving off whisky enables us to show a good ba- James laughed very heartily at this, and answered, bit, taking to ginger cordial,' or any thing of that kind, Oh, I keep mine on draught-always on draught; there's will soon wear a hole in it.'
nothing like having plenty of a good thing, so I keep mine “You are always fond of your fun,” replied Andrew. always on draught;" and then James laughed again, and so “ How can you prove that ?"
heartily, that Andrew thought surely his real temperance cos. “Easy enough,” said James. “ Intoxication was the worst dial must contain something quite as strong as what he had part of a whisky-drinking habit ; but it was not the only bad blamed him for taking. part. It spent TIME, and it spent what well-managed time al- James's cottage door was open, and as they approached it ways gives, money. Now, though they do say-mind, I'm not they saw a good deal of what was going forward within. A quite sure about it, for they may put things in it they don't square table, placed in the centre of the little kitchen, was own to, and your eyes look brighter, and your cheek more covered by a clean white cloth-knives, forks, and plates for flushed than if you had been drinking nothing stronger than the whole family, were ranged upon it in excellent order ; the milk or water-but they do say that ginger cordials, and all hearth had been swept, the house was clean, the children rosy, kinds of cordials, do not intoxicate. I will grant this ; but you well dressed, and all doing something." Mary,” whom her cannot deny that they waste both time and money."
husband had characterised as “the patient," was busy and "Oh, bother !” exclaimed Andrew. “I only went with two bustling, in the very act of adding to the coffee, which was or three other boys to have a glass, and I don't think we spent steaming on the table, the substantial accompaniments of fried more than half an hour_not three quarters, certainly; and eggs and bacon, with a large dish of potatoes. When the there's no great harm in laying out a penny or twopence that children saw their father, they ran to meet him with a great way, now and again."
shout, and clung around to tell him all they had done that Half an hour even, breaks a day,” said James, and day. The eldest girl declared she had achieved the heel what is worse, it unsettles the mind for work; and we of a stocking; one boy wanted his father to come and see how ought to be very careful of any return to the old habit, that straight he had planted the cabbages; while another avowed has destroyed many of us, body and soul, and made the his proficiency in addition, and volunteered to do a sum inDame of an Irishman a by-word and a reproach, instead of stanter upon a slate which he had just cleaned. Happi
BY MRS S. C. HALL.
ness in a cottage seems always more real than it does in a watery portions. It is an interesting question, from whence gorgeous palace. It is not wasted in large rooms—it is con proceed the sugar and gum contained in this ascending sap? centrated -a great deal of love in a small space-a great, The only satisfactory reply to this question is, that these subgreat deal of joy and hope within narrow walls, and com- stances become formed out of the water and carbonic acid pressed, as it were, by a low roof. Is it not a blessed thing absorbed from the soil; but this is a transformation which that the most moderate means become enlarged by the affec- cannot be effected by the most expert chemist, so that we tions ?-—that the love of a peasant within his sphere, is as deep, find in this, as in many other instances, a living body is a as fervent, as true, as lasting, as sweet, as the love of a prince? laboratory in which Nature executes changes far transcending --that all our best and purest affections will grow and expand the loftiest efforts of man's ingenuity. in the poorest worldly soil ?—and that we need not be rich to The part of the vegetable through which the sap ascends can be happy? James felt all this and more when he entered his be easily shown in any of the ordinary trees of this country. cottage, and was thankful to God who had opened his eyes, If a branch from a currant shrub be placed with its inferior and taught him what a number of this world's gifts, that were and newly cut surface immersed at first in a solution of green within even his humble reach, might be enjoyed without sin. vitriol and afterwards in an infusion of nutgalls, the course He stood a poor but happy father within the sacred temple of through which these fluids ascend may be traced by the black his home; and Andrew had the warm heart of an Irishman colour produced by their mixture; for every one knows that beating in his bosom, and consequently shared his joy. a mixture of green vitriol and nutgalls produces ink, and in
“I told you,” said James, “I had the true temperance the experiment just described, the solutions of these substances cordial at home-do you not see it in the simple prosperity following each other in their ascent, inscribe in a manner on by which, owing to the blessings of temperance, I am sur- the interior of the branch the path which they successively rounded ?-do you not see it in the rosy cheeks of my children, pursued. This course will be found to exist between the bark in the smiling eyes of my wife_did I not tell truly that she and the pith, these parts being quite unchanged, while the inhelped to make it ? Is not this a true cordial," he continued, termediate portion of wood will be deeply coloured. while his own eyes glistened with manly tears, "is not the The causes which produce the ascent of the sap are of a very prosperity of this cottage a true temperance cordial ?-and is powerful nature. The celebrated Hales ascertained that a vine it not always on draught, flowing from an ever-filling foun- branch, in a few days, sucked up water with a force equal to tain ? Am I not right, Andrew; and will you not forth with the weight of sixteen pounds on the square inch: this was a take my receipt, and make it for yourself? You will never power greater than atmospheric pressure; and when it is rewish for any other : it is warmer than ginger, and sweeter collected that the pressure of the atmosphere is capable of than anniseed. I am sure you will agree with me that a listing thirty-three or thirty-four feet of water in a common loving wife, in the enjoyment of the humble comforts which pump, some estimate may be formed of the force with which an industrious sober husband can bestow, smiling, healthy, the sap ascends. This ascent appears to be produced by the well-clad children, and a clean cabin, where the fear of God influence of two causes : the one, a quality peculiar to living banishes all other fears, make
beings, by which the buds in common with all growing organs THE TRUE TEMPERANCE CORDIAL!”
are capable of attracting or sucking towards them the juices
necessary for their nutrition; and in agreement with this, the THE SAP IN VEGETABLES.
sap is found to ascend in the first instance near the buds : the other, a general property of all matter which has been but
lately discovered. This latter property, which has been called BOTANISTS describe two kinds of vegetable sap; the one is endosmose, is found to operate when two fluids of different dencalled the ascending or unelaborated sap, the other the de- sities are separated by a membrane. Under these circum. scending or elaborated sap. If a young branch be cut across stances, and in obedience to an attraction for each other, in the spring season, the newly exposed surfaces will be found both fluids pass through the membrane, and mix together; rapidly to cover themselves with a dew, especially that portion but the denser and thicker fluid finding a greater difficulty to which is continuous with the trunk—this moisture is the penetrate the membrane than the lighter and thinner, conseascending sap: wbile if during the summer or autumn a piece quently passes through in less quantity,
To illustrate this, of twine be tightly drawn and knotted round a young branch let us suppose a bladder containing a little syrup, and placed of lilac, the part above this ligature will shortly become swol- in a vessel of water, and we will have the corditions necessary len, and will bulge out on every side, in consequence of an for endosmose: the syrup and water will both pass through impediment having been thus presented to the downward flow the bladder in opposite directions, but a greater quantity of of the descending sap, which will be therefore forced to accu- water will pass into the syrup, than of the latter into the mulate in the situation described. The reader may perceive water. It will be evident to the reader that this excess of that the origin from whence these two kinds of sap are derived, thin liquid passing into the denser will constitute a force or their chemical composition, the part of the vegetable through power which will require an equal force to neutralise it ; and which they pass, the causes which produce the ascent of one it has been ascertained that the tendency of water to peneand the descent of the other, together with the uses of both trate a membrane for the purpose of mixing with a syrup of in the vegetable economy, are questions of great interest, as once and a third its own specific weight, required a force well to the farmer as the horticulturist.
equal to sixty-three pounds on the square inch to overcome it. The source from whence the ascending sap is derived is the Now, a plant growing in the ground is similarly circumaliment absorbed by the roots from the soil. This aliment stanced to the bladder in this experiment : its roots furnished consists essentially of two substances; one of these being with extremities of spongy membrane are interposed between sufficiently familiar, namely, water; and the other commonly thin water and carbonic acid externally, and a syrupy soluexisting in the atmosphere under the form of gas or air, but tion of sugar and gum internally. Now, under these circumlikewise capable of solution in water, namely, carbonic acid; stances we need not be surprised if an endosmose should operthis substance is known to every one as the cause, by its ate, abundantly sufficient to elevate the sap with a force even escape, of the boiling appearance seen in freshly uncorked greater than that determined by Hales. soda water. These two substances constitute the necessary The use of the ascending sap in the vegetable economy is aliment of vegetables : at the same time it is notorious that the last subject which we shall consider in this article. On a various matters, such as manures, earths, &c, greatly facili- future occasion we shall endeavour to show that it is out of tate the growth of plants ; but these matters produce this the ascending sap that the descending or elaborated sap is effect either by supplying a greater quantity of carbonic acid, chiefly formed; but besides this utility of the ascending sap, or by acting in a manner similar to condiments; for in the as the source of the descending sap, the former has special same way as spices taken into the stomach along with food functions of its own to perform. If we inquire what period of invigorate the digestive power, so do many minerals, when the year is the ascending sap in greatest quantity, we shall absorbed by the roots, operate in promoting the nutrition of find it to be during the spring season. Now, this is the time vegetables.
when the buds become pushed out into branches, and the young The chemical composition of the ascending sap is chiefly a leaves peep forth : the roots also during this season increase solution of sugar and gum in water. In the northern states in thickness. Another means which we possess of asc'rtainof America, sugar.in large quantities is obtained from some ing the uses of this sap, is by protecting plants from the intluispecies of maple, principally the sugar maple and swamp ma- ence of light: 'in total darkness no elaborated sap is erer ple of Canada, by boring the stem, collecting the ascending formed; therefore, whatever vegetation may then take place, sap which flows from the wound, and evaporating away its I must be solely at the expense of the ascending sap. Under such