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TIIC OLD PRILGE OF MILTOWY, COUNTY OF DUBLIN. We have aiready taken occasion more than once to express, consequent upon a just perception of the beautiful in art and our admiration of the beautiful and varied scenery which sur- nature. Till this power is acquired, our green pastoral vallies, rounds our city on all sides, and which presents such an end- our rocky cliffs, mountain glens, and shining rivers, as well as less variety in its general character and individual features as our exhibitions of the Fine Arts, and that pure portion of our no other city that we are acquainted with in the empire possesses literature which disdains to pander to the prejudices of sect or in any thing like an equal degree. Other cities may have sce- party, must remain less appreciated at home than abroad, and nery in their immediate vicinity of some one or two classes of be less known to ourselves than to strangers who visit us, and higher beauty or grandeur than we can boast of; but it is the who in this respect are often infinitely our superiors. It is no proud distinction of our metropolis that there is no class of fault of ours, however, that we are thus defective in the cul. scenery whatsoever of which its citizens have not the most tivation of those higher qualities of mind which would so much characteristic examples within their reach of enjoyment by a conduce to our happiness; the causes which have produced walk or drive of an hour or two; and yet, strange to say, they such a result are sufficiently obvious to every reflecting mind, are not enjoyed or even appreciated. Some suburb of fashion and do not require that we should name or more distinetly able resort is indeed visited by them, but not on account of any allude to them. But we have reason to be inspired with picturesque beauty it may possess, but simply because it is fa- cheerful hope that they will not very long continue in operashionable, and allows us to get into a crowd-as our delightful tion. Temperance and education are making giant strides Musard concerts are attended by the multitude less for the mu- amongst us; and when we look at our various institutions for sic than to see and be seen, and where we too often show our the promotion of science, art, and mechanics, all in active want of good taste by being listless or silent when we ought to operation, and aided by the growth of a national literature, we applaud, and express loudly our approbation at some capri. can scarcely hesitate to feel assured that the arts of civilized cious extravagance of the performer that we ought to condemn. life are taking a firm root in our country, and will be followed The truth is, that in every thing appertaining to taste we are by their attendant blessings. as yet like children, and have very much to learn before we But it may be asked, What have these remarks to do with can emancipate ourselves from the trammels of vulgar fashion, Miltown Bridge, the subject of our prefixed woodcut ? Our and become qualified to enjoy those pure and refined pleasures answer is, that in presenting our readers with one of the innumerable picturesque scenes which are found along the and which in its present state, clothed with ivy and hastening courses of our three rivers, the Liffey, the Dodder, and the to decay, cheats the imagination with its appearance of age, Tolka, all of which abound in features of the most beautiful and looks an arch of triumph of old Rome. We would then pastoral landscapes, we have naturally been led into such lead them into this noble abandoned park, still in its desolaa train of thought by the fact that we hold their charms in tion rich in the magnificence of art and nature; then we little esteem, and that few amongst us have the taste to appre- would take a meditative look at its general features and at ciate their beauties, and the consequent desire to enjoy them. those of the grim yet grand and characteristic castellated manThe Liffey may perhaps be known to a certain extent to many sion which with so much cost it was formed to adorn; and of our Dublin readers, but we greatly doubt that the Tolka we should ask our companions, why has so much beauty and or the Dodder are equally familiar to them; and yet the great magnificence been thus abandoned ? Here in its silent hall we poet of nature, Mr Wordsworth, on his visit to our city, made could still show them original marble busts of Pope and Newhimself most intimately acquainted with the scenery of the ton by Roubilliac; and, in the drawing-room, pictures painted former, and thought it not inferior to that of his own Duddon, expressly for it on the spot by the fair and accomplished hand which his genius has immortalized.
of Angelica Kaufmann. But the interest of those objects would In like manner, the scenery of the Dodder, though so little after all be somewhat a saddening one, and we should return to known to the mass of our fellow citizens, has been often ex- our cheerful river with renewed pleasure, to relieve our plored by many British as well as native artists, who have filled spirits with a view of objects more enlivening. Such an obtheir portfolios with its picturesque treasures, and have spoken ject would be that old mill near Rathfarnham, where paper of them with rapturous enthusiasm. Thus, for example, it was first manufactured in Ireland about two centuries since. was, as we well know, from this fount that much of the in- It was on the paper so made that Usher's Primordia was spiration of our great self-taught imaginative painter Danby printed, and the Annals of the Four Masters were written. was drawn ; and though we could not point to a higher name, The manufacturer was a Dutchman-but what matter? At we could, if it were necessary, give many other little less illus- the Bridge of Templeoge we should probably make another trious examples of talent cultivated in the same school of short divergence, to take a look at the old park and mansion nature.
of the Talbots and Domvilles; and here, beneath a majestic Amongst the many picturesque objects which this little grove of ancient forest trees, we should show our companions mountain river presents, the Old Bridge of Miltown has the largest bank of violets that ever came under our obalways been with those children of genius an especial favour- servation. But the limits allotted to this article will not ite, and many an elaborate study has been made of its stained permit us to describe or even name a twentieth part of the and timeworn walls. It is indeed just such a scene as objects or scenes of interest and beauty that would present the lover of the picturesque would delight in ;--quiet and themselves in quick succession ; and we shall only say a few sombre in its colour, harmonious in its accompanying features words on one more-the glorious Glanasmole, or the Valley of of old buildings, rocks, water, and mountain background; the Thrush, in which the Dodder has its source. Reader, and, as a whole, impressed with a poetical sentiment approach- have you ever seen this noble valley ? Most probably you have ing to melancholy, derived from its pervading expression of not, for we know but few that ever even heard of it ; and yet neglect and ruin. It is for these reasons that we have given this glen, situated within some six or seven miles of Dublin, old Miltown bridge a place in our topographical collections ; presents mountain scenery as romantic, wild, and almost as and though many of our Dublin readers, for whom, on this oc- inagnificent, as any to be found in Ireland. In this majestic casion, we write especially, may not fully understand our solitude, with the lovely Dodder sparkling at our feet, and the language, or participate in our feelings, the fault is not ours : gloomy Kippure mountain with his head shrouded in the our object in writing is a kind one. We would desire that clouds two thousand four hundred feet above us, we have a they should all acquire the power of enjoying the beautiful in realization of the scenery of the Ossianic poetry. It is innature, and, as a consequence, in art; knowing as we do deed the very locality in which the scenes of some of these that such power is productive of the sweetest as well as the legends are laid, as in the well-known Ossianic romance called purest of intellectual pleasures of which we are susceptible, the Hunt of Glanasmole; and monuments commemorative of and makes us not only happier, but better men.
the celebrated Fin and his heroes, “tall grey stones,” are still We are aware also that some of our Dublin readers, whose to be seen in the glen and on its surrounding mountains. We tastes are not uncultivated, but who have taken less trouble could conduct our readers to the well of Ossian, and the tomb than ourselves to make themselves familiar with our suburban of Fin's celebrated dog Bran, in which, perhaps, the naturallocalities, may think that we speak too enthusiastically of the ist might find and determine his species by his remains. The scenery of the Dodder river and its accompanying features. But monument of Fin himself is on a mountain in the neighbourif such readers would meet us at Miltown some sunny morning hood, and that of his wife Finane, according to the legends of in May or June next, and accompany us along the Dodder till the place, gives name to a mountain over the glen, called we reach its source among the mountains-a moderate walk- See-Finane. But there are objects of even greater interest to we are satisfied that we should be able to remove their scep- the antiquary and naturalist than those to be seen in Glanasticism, and give them an enjoyment more delightful than they mole, namely, the three things for which, according to some of could anticipate, and for which they would thank us warmly. these old bardic poems, the glen was anciently remarkable, We could show them not only a varied succession of scenes of and which were peculiar to it: these were the large breed of picturesque or romantic beauty on the way, but also many thrushes from which the valley derived its name, the great contiguous objects of historic interest, on which we would size of the ivy leaves found on its rocks, and the large berries discourse them much legendary lore, and which we should of the rowan or mountain ash, which formerly adorned its lead them to examine, offering as an excuse for our temporary sides. The ash woods indeed no longer exist, having been divergence the beautiful sonnet of Wordsworth to his favourite destroyed to make charcoal above eighty years since, but Duddon:
shoots bearing the large berries are still be seen, while the Who swerves from innocence, who makes divorce
thrush continues in his original haunt in the little dell at the Of that serene companion-a good name,
source of the river on the side of Kippure, undisturbed and
undiminished in size, and the giant ivy clings to the rocks as Recovers not his loss, but walks with shame, With doubt, with fear, and haply with remorse.
large as ever; we have seen leaves of it from seven to ten
inches diameter. We should also state, that to the geologist And oft-times he, who, yielding to the force Of chance-temptation, ere his journey end,
Glanasmole is as interesting as to the painter, antiquary, or From chosen comrade turns, or faithful friend,
naturalist, as our friend Dr Schouler will show our readers in In vain shall rue the broken intercourse.
some future number of our Journal. Not so with such as loosely wear the chain,
But we must bring our walk and our gossip to a conclusion, That binds them, pleasant River ! to thy side :
or our friends will tire of both, if they are not so already. Through the rough copse wheel thou with hasty stride, Let us, then, rest at the little primitive Irish Christian church I choose to saunter o'er the grassy plain,
of Killmosantan, now ignorantly called St Anne's, seated on Sure, when the separation has been tried,
the bank of the river amongst the mountains ; and having That we, who part in love, shall meet again.
refreshed ourselves with a drink from the pure fountain of the
saint, we shall return in silence to the place from which we Thus, as we approached towards Rathfarnham, we should started, and bid our kind companions a warm farewell, ask them to admire that noble classic gateway on the river's
P. side, which leads into the deserted park of the Loftus family,
NOTICE OF A SINGULAR BOOK ON FOSSIL
As soon as M. Deckard, a brother professor, who was
probably in the plot, was aware of this ridiculous publication, REMAINS.
he expressed great regret that the mystification had been Most of our readers must have heard of the wonderful dis- pushed so far, and informed M. Berenger of the hoax that coveries of Cuvier respecting the extinct animals of a former had been played upon him. The unfortunate author was now world, and of the sagacity with which that profound anatomist as anxious to recall his work as he had formerly been to give disclosed the history of races, of whose existence the only it to the public. Some copies, hoyever, found their way into evidence we possess depends upon the preservation of a few the libraries of the curious. bones or fragments of skeletons. The same subject, which in Nothing can be imagined more strange than this book, the hands of genius has afforded such brilliant discoveries, whether we consider the opinions contained in it, or the manhas also afforded wide scope for credulity, and even imposture. ner in which they are stated. It deserves to be better known The bones of the larger races of extinct animals were for as a monument of the most extravagant credulity, and as an merly believed alike by the learned and the vulgar to be those evidence of the follies at which the mind may arrive when it of giants. Even as late as the seventeenth century, learned attempts to bend the laws of nature to its chimeras. Nothing anatomists believed that the bones of the extinct elephant can be more absurd than the allegoric engraving placed on belonged to a gigantic race of men. In the year 1577, some the title-page. On the summit of a Parnassus, composed of bones of the elephant were disinterred near the town of an enormous accumulation of petrifactions, we observe an Lucerne, in Switzerland; the magistrates sent them to a obelisk supporting the arms of the Prince-Bishop, and surprofessor of anatomy, who decided that they belonged to the rounded by Cupids and garlands of flowers. Above the pyraskeleton of a giant, and the citizens were so delighted with mid there is a sun surmounted by the name of the Deity, in the discovery that they adopted a giant as the supporter of Hebrew characters. Different emblematic persons holding the arms of their town, an honour which he still retains. In petrifactions in their hands are placed on the sides of the the same century, some bones of the elephant found in mountain. At its base we observe on the right a tonsured Dauphiny were exhibited in different parts of Europe as the Apollo, who doubtless represents the Prince-Bishop, and on remains of the general of the Cimbri who invaded Rome, and the left we see the professor himself demonstrating all these who was defeated by the consul Marius some time before the wonders; and also a genius, seated near the centre of the commencement of the Christian era. In this case, however, mountain, is writing down his words in Hebrew characters. the mistake was not allowed to pass unnoticed, and the sur- In the dedication M. Berenger gives an explanation of these geons and physicians of Paris entered into a lengthened allegories. But what is still more remarkable, it appears that discussion respecting the nature of the bones ; and the works even the engraver has amused himself at the expense of the written on this subject, if collected, would form a small professor. What renders this probable is, that at the base library.
of the engraving are figured pick-axes and spades necessary The most extraordinary instance of mystification and cre- for extracting petrifactions, and along with them chisels, dulity upon record is to be found in the history of a book on compass, and mallet, the emblems of sculpture; and what is Petrifactions, published by a German professor at the com- still more wicked, a bell, the emblem of noise. mencement of the last century. We quote the following The work is dedicated to the Prince-Bishop of Wurzburg, notice of this very rare book from a French publication :- on whom were bestowed the epithets of the New Apollo, Sacred
It is related in the life of Father Kircher, one of the most Amulet of the country, the New Sun of Franconia, and others eccentric of men, that some youths, desirous of amusing selected with equal taste. The most absurd flattery abounds themselves at his expense, practised the following mystifica- in this dedication, of which the following may be taken as a tion upon him. They engraved a number of fantastic figures sample. “ The opinions of philosophers are still unsettled. upon a stone, which they afterwards buried in a place where a | They hesitate whether to ascribe the wonderful productions house was about to be built. The stone was found by the of this mountain to the admirable operations of nature, or to workmen while digging the foundation, and of course found the art of the ancients; but, interpreted by the public gratitude, its way to the learned Father, who was quite delighted with all unite with me in proclaiming that this useless and unculthe treasure ; and after much labour and research, he gave tivated hill has rendered illustrious by its wonders the beginsuch a translation of the inscription as might have been ex- ning of your reign, and has honoured a learned Prince, the pected from the whimsical disposition of the man. Kircher protector and support of learning, by a hecatomb of petrified had been a professor at Wurzburg where this anecdote became plants, flowers, and animals. If it be permitted to attribute well known, and led to another mystification of a much more these marvels to the industry of antiquity, I can say that serious nature, as it was pushed so far as to occasion the Franconia was once the rival of Egypt. By a usage unknown publication of a folio volume.
in Europe, Memphis covered her gigantic monuments with M. Berenger, physician to the Prince-Bishop of Warzburg, hieroglyphics, and I do not hazard an idle conjecture. I state and a professor in the University, was an enthusiastic col. without fear of contradiction, that the obelisk which crowns lector of natural curiosities. He collected without discrimi- | this mountain exhibits in its petrifactions the emblems of your nation, and above ail things valued those objects which by virtues.” According to the author, the name of the Deity in their strange forms seemed to contradict the laws of nature. Hebrew characters indicates the zeal of the Prince for reliThis pursuit drew much ridicule upon M. Berenger, and in- gion. The sun, the moon, and the stars, his beneficence, jusduced a young man of the name of Rodrich to amuse himself tice, prudence, and indefatigable vigilance; the comets, conat his expense. Rodrich cut upon stones the figures of differ-trary to the vulgar idea, which considers them signs of evil, ent kinds of animals, and caused them to be brought to foretell the happy events of his reign; and the fossil shells reBerenger, who purchased them and encouraged the search for present the hearts of his subjects.
The success of the trick encouraged its author ; he It appears from the preface that M. Berenger had soliprepared new petrifactions, of the most absurd nature ima- cited and obtained permission from the Prince-Bishop to pubginable. They consisted of bats with the heads and wings lish his work. He confesses that the greater number of of butterflies, winged crabs, frogs, Hebrew and other charac-philosophers and intelligent people he had consulted were of ters, snails, spiders with their webs, &c. When a sufficient opinion that these petrifactions were the products of art; in number of them was prepared, boys who had been taught opposition to this erroneous opinion, he asserts that he has contheir lesson brought them to the professor, informing him vinced the sceptics by taking them to the spot where he found that they had found them near the village of Eibelstadt, and his curiosities. Their astonishment, he adds, and their unacaused him to pay dearly for the time they had employed in nimous and perfect conviction, had given him the utmost joy, collecting them. `Delighted with the ease with which he ob- and amply recompensed him for all his labour an expense. tained so many wonders, he expressed a desire to visit the This work was to have been followed by others. It is diplace where they had been found, and the boys conducted him vided into fourteen chapters, each chapter being devoted to a to a locality where they had previously buried a number of single question. Most of these questions are so extraordinary specimens. At last, when he had formed an ample collection, and so singularly treated of, that one can scarcely believe that he could no longer resist the inclination of making them known the author was in earnest. Thus, Chap. 4, The petrifactions of to the learned world. He thought he would be guilty of self- Wurzburg are not relics of Paganism, nor can they be atishness if he withheld from the public that knowledge which tributed to the art and superstition of the Germans during had afforded him so much delight. Ile exhibited his treasures heathen times. to the admiration of the learned, in a work containing twenty- Chap. 5. The ingenious conjecture which attributes their one plates, with a Latin text explanatory of the figures. formation to the plastic power of light.
Chap. 6. The germs of shell-fish and marine animals, mixed
PERIODICAL LITERATURE. with the vapours of the ocean, and scattered over the earth by the showers, are not the source of the fossils of Wurzburg.
THE POOR AUTHOR.* Chap. 12. Our petrifactions are not the products of modern How many a time do we take up the page of news, or the art, as some persons have ventured to assert, throwing a sheet of literary novelty, without reflecting upon the nameless cloud of doubts and fables over this subject.
sources whence their contents have been derived ; and yet Chap. 13. Grave reasons for considering our petrifactions what a fruitful field do they afford for our deepest contemplaas the work of nature, and not of art.
tion, and our holiest and purest sympathies ! There may be The absurdity of the arguments employed in the discussion there brought together, and to the general eye displayed in of these different propositions, exceeds all belief. For example, undistinguished union, contributions over which the jewelled the author, to refute the opinion of those who attribute these brow of nobility hath been knitted into the frown of thoughtpetrifactions to the superstition of the Pagans, demon. fulness, and side by side with these, chapters wearily traced strates that none of these specimens in his possession are out by the tremulous hand of unbefriended genius. Upon described in the decrees of the German synods, which pro- the former we do not mean to dwell, but we would wish for scribed images and sorcery. Neither can they be considered a few moments to contemplate the heart-trying condition of as victims offered to idols, for who ever sacrificed figured the latter. stones instead of living animals? They are not amulets It is hard to conceive a situation more replete with wretchwhich Pagan parents hung around the necks of their children. edness than that of the struggling man of letters--of him to preserve them from the charms of witchcraft, for some of who has offered his all before the shrine of long-looked-for them are so heavy that they would strangle the poor infant, fame ; who has staked health, and peace, and happiness, that and there is no aperture in any of them through which a chain he may win her favour, and who nevertheless holds an uncercould be passed. Finally, what renders it impossible that these tain tenure even of his “ daily bread." He is poor and in stones are the remains of Paganism, is, that many of them are misery, yet he lives in a world of boundless wealth; but in this inscribed with Hebrew, Arabic, Greek, and German charac- very thing is to be found the exquisite agony of his condition. ters, expressing the name of the Deity.
What though haggard want wave around him her lean and This work, as we have stated, was suppressed when he dis- famished hands, what avails that? Write he must, if it be covered the cruel hoax that had been played upon him. The but to satisfy the cravings of a stinted nature; write he work, in its original state, is very rare, and is only known must, though his only reward be the scanty pittance that was to the curious; but after the death of M. Berenger, the copies greedily covenanted" for, and when his due, but grudgingly which he had retained were given to the public by a bookseller, presented him. And then he must delineate plenty and hapbut with a new title-page.
S. piness; he must describe “the short holiday of childhood,"
the guiłeless period of maiden's modesty, the sunshine of the
calm of peaceful resignation; or it may be, the charms that SONGS OF OUR LAND.
nature wears in England's happy vales, the beauty of her
scenery, the splendour and wealth of her institutions, the Songs of our land, ye are with us for ever,
protecting law for the poor man, her admirable code of juris. The power and the splendour of thrones pass away ;
prudence. All, all these may be the theme of his song, or But yours is the might of some far flowing river,
the subject of his appointed task; but the hours will pass Through Summer's bright roses or Autumn's decay.
. away, and the spirits he has called up will disappear, and his Ye treasure each voice of the swift passing ages,
visions of happiness will leave him only, if it be possible, more And truth, which time writeth on leaves or on sand ;
fearfully alive to his own helplessness--they cannot wake their Ye bring us the bright thoughts of poets and sages,
echo in his soul, and instead of their worthier office of heal.
ing and blessedness, they render his wound deeper, deadlier,
And who is there, think you, kind reader,' that can feel
more acutely the sting of neglect and poverty than the lonely
man of genius? Of him how truly may it be said, "he can. But far in the future the power of their numbers
not dig, to beg he is ashamed!" His intellect is his world ; Shall kindle the hearts of our faithful and brave.
it is the glorious city in which he abides, the treasure-house It will waken an echo in souls deep and lonely,
wherein his very being is garnered ; it is to cultivate it that Like voices of reeds by the summer breeze fanned ;
he has lived ; and when it fails him in his wintry hour, is not It will call up a spirit for freedom, when only
he indeed “of all men most miserable ?" Her breathings are heard in the songs of our land.
But let us suppose that his prescribed duty is done, that
the required article is written, and that this child of his sick For they keep a record of those, the truc hearted,
and aching brain is at last dismissed; and can his thoughts Who fell with the cause they had vowed to maintain ;
follow it ? Can his heart bear the reflection that it shall find They show us bright shadows of glory departed,
admission where he durst not make his appearance ? He Of love that grew cold, and the hope that was vain.
knows that it will be laid on the gorgeous table of the rich The page may be lost and the pen long forsaken,
and honourable. He knows, too, that it will find its way to And weeds may grow wild o'er the brave heart and hand : the happy fireside, the home where sorrow hath not yet enBut ye are still left when all else hath been taken,
tered_such as once was his own in the days of his childhood. Like streams in the desert, sweet songs of our land.
He knows that the unnatural relation who spurned him from
his door when he asked the bread of charity, may see it, and Songs of our land, ye have followed the stranger,
without at all knowing the writer, that even his scornful With power over ocean and desert afar,
sneer may be thereby relaxed. He knows- --but why more? Ye have gone with our wanderers through distance and danger,
Of himself he knows that want and woe have been his com-
panions, that they are yet encamped around him, and that
they will only end their ministry *" where the wicked cease With the breath of our mountains in summers long vanished,
from troubling, and the weary are at rest !" And visions that passed like a wave froin the sand,
This is by no means-oh, would that it were so !-an ideal With hope for their country and joy from her banished,
picture. In LONDON, amid her • wilderness of building," Ye come to us ever, sweet songs of our land.
there are at this hour hundreds whose sufferings could cor
roborate it, and whose necessities could give the stamping The spring time may come with the song of her glory,
conviction to its truth. We were ourselves cognizant of the To bid the green heart of the forest rejoice,
history of one young man's life, his early and buoyant hopes, But the pine of the mountain, though blasted and boary, his subsequent misfortunes and miseries, and his early and And the rock in the desert, can send forth a voice.
unripe death, to all of which, anything that is painted above It is thus in their triumph for deep desolations,
bears but a faint and indistinct resemblance. Ile was an While ocean waves roll or the mountains shall stand, Still hearts that are brave and best of the nations,
The writer, 28 wil! ! or, las had in view solcly the literature of Shall glory and live in the songs of their land.
“ And as around the browo
And cheek-for-chow a chuffie vintner,
Irishman, and gifted with the characteristics of his country- tain ash, and on their topmost peaks frisked the agile goat in a romantic genius, united with feelings the most tremulous, all the pride of unfettered liberty. and tender, and impassioned. Many years have since passed These men, each of whom led a Kerry pony that bore an away, and over and over again have the wild flowers sprung empty sack along the difficult pathway, were as dissimilar in up, and bloomed, and withered over his narrow resting place, form and appearance as any two of Adam's descendants pos. no unmeet emblem of
sibly could be. One was a low-sized, thickset man ; his broad “The poor inhabitant below !"
shoulders and muscular limbs gave indication of considerable but never has the memory of his sad story faded from us- strength ; but the mild expression of his large blue eyes and never may it fade! His lot was unhappy, and he “perished broad, good-humoured countenance, told, as plain as the huin his pride." His reason eventually bowed before his intense man face divine could, that the fierce and stormy passions of sufferings; and excepting the few minutes just before his our kind never exerted the strength of that muscular arm in spirit passed away, his last hours were uncheered by the deeds of violence. A jacket and trousers of brown frieze, glimpse of that glorious intellect which had promised to and a broad-brimmed hat made of that particular grass named crown him with a chaplet of undying fame. Even as it was, thraneen, completed his dress. It would be difficult to conhe had attracted notice ; his writings were beginning to ceive a more strange or unseemly figure than the other : he make for him a name; and the Prime Minister of England exceeded in height the usual size of men; but his limbs, which did not think it beneath him to visit his lonely lodging, and hung loosely together, and seemed to accompany his emaciated to endeavour to raise his sinking soul with the promise of body with evident reluctance, were literally nothing but skin almost unlimited patronage. But the restorative came too and bone; his long conical head was thinly strewed with late: the poison had worked its portion, and in the guise of rusty-coloured hair that waved in the evening breeze about a Fame, DEATH approached;
haggard face of greasy, sallow hue, where the rheumy sunken
eye, the highly prominent nose, the thin and livid lip, half Of that ill-fated votary he wreath'd
disclosing a few rotten straggling teeth, significantly seemed The crown of victory, silently he twined
to tell how disease and misery can attenuate the human frame. The cypress with the laurel: at his foot Perish'd the MARTYR STUDENT."
He moved, a living skeleton : yet, strange to say, the smart We have nothing to add to this. Had we not hoped to nag which "he led was hardly able to keep pace with the strike a chord of sympathy in our reader's heart, we should swinging unequal stride of the gaunt pedestrian, though his never have even advanced so far, or have uplifted the veil limbs were so fleshless that his clothes fapped and fluttered so as to exhibit the “latter end” of such. Reader, in con
around him as he stalked along the chilly moor. clusion, you know not the toil, and trouble, and bodily la
As the travellers proceeded, the road, which had lately been bour, and mental inquietude, that furnish you each week with pent within the huge masses of granite, now expanded suffithe price of YOUR PENNY!
ciently to allow them a little side-by-side discourse; and the first-mentioned person pushed forward to renew a conversa
tion which seemed to have been interrupted by the inequalities PADDY CORBETT'S FIRST SMUGGLING TRIP.
of the narrow pathway: " Then on the 'tither band present her,
“ An' so ye war saying, Shane Glas,” he said, advancing A blackguard smuggler right behint her,
l in a straight line with his spectre-looking companion, ye
war saying that face of yours would be the means of keeping Colleaguin' join.-BURNS.
the guager from our taste of tibaccy." No order of men has experienced severer treatment from 5. The devil resave the guager will ever squint at a lafe of the various classes into which society is divided, than that of it,” says Shane Glas, “ if I'm in yer road. There was never excisemen, or, as they are vulgarly denominated, guagers. a cloud over Tim Casey for the twelve months I thravelled If, unlike the son of the Hebrew patriarch, their hand is not with him ; and if the foolish man had had me the day his taste raised against every man, yet they may be truly said to in o'brandy was taken, he'd have the fat boiling over his pot toherit a portion of Ishmael's destiny, for every man's hand is day, 'tis'nt that I say it myself.” against them. The cordial and unmitigated hostility of the “ The sorrow from me, Shane Glas,” returned his friend lower classes follows the guager at every point of his dan- , with a hearty laugh, and a roguish glance of his funny eye gerous career, whether his pursuit be smuggled goods, pot at the angular and sallow countenance of the other, “the teen, or unpermitted parliament. Literary men have catered sorrow be from me if it's much of Tim's fat came in your to the gratification of the public at his expense, by exhibiting way, at any rate, though I don't say as much for the graise." him in their stories of Irish life under such circumstances " It's laughing at the crucked side o' yer mouth ye'd be, that the good-natured reader scarcely knows whether to I'm thinking, Paddy Corbett,” said Shane Glas, "if the laugh or weep most at his ludicrous distress. The varied thief of a guager smelt your taste o' tibaccy_Crush Chriest powers of rhyme have been pressed into the service by the duin ! and I not there to fricken him off, as I often done man of genius and the lover of fun. The “ Diel's awa' wi' afore.” the Exciseman" of Burns, and the Irishman's “Paddy was up “ But couldn't we take our lafe o' tibaccy on our ponies' to the Guager," will ever remain to prove the truth of the backs in panniers, and throw a few hake or some oysters foregoing assertion.
over 'em, and let on that we're fish-joulting ?" But the humble historian of this unpretending narrative “ Now, mark my words, Paddy Corbett: there's a chap is happy to record one instance of retributory justice on the in Killarney as knowledgeable as a jailor; Ould Nick would'nt part of an individual of this devoted class, which would have bate him in roguery. So put your goods in the thruckle, shake procured him a statue in the temple of Nemesis, had his lot a wisp over 'em, lay me down over that in the fould o' the been cast among the ancients. Many instances of the gene- quilt, and say that I kem from Decie's counthry to pay a rosity, justice, and self-abandonment of the guager, have round at Tubber-na-Treenoda, and that I caught a faver. come to the writer's knowledge, and these acts of virtue shall I and that ye're taking me home to die, for the love o' God and not be utterly forgotten. The readers of the Irish Penny / yer mother's sowl. Say, that Father Darby, who prepared Journal shall blush to find men, whose qualities might recon- me, said I had the worst spotted faver that kem to the cile the estranged misanthrope to the human family, rendered I counthry these seven years. If that doesn't fricken him off, the butt of ridicule, and their many virtues lost and unknown. Iye're sowld" (betrayed.)
On a foggy evening in the November of a year of which By this time they had reached a deep ravine, through Irish tradition, not being critically learned in chronology, has which a narrow stream pursued its murmuring course. Here not furnished the date, two men pursued their way along a they left the horses, and, furnished with the empty sacks, bridle road that led through a wisd mountain tract in a re- pursued their onward route till they reached a steep cliff. Far mote and far westward district of Kerry. The scene was below in the dark and undefined space sounded the hollow savage and lonely. Far before them extended the broad roar of the heaving ocean, as its billowy volume broke upon Atlantic, upon whose wild and heaving bosom the lowering its granite barrier, and formed along the dark outline a zone clouds seemed to settle in fitful repose. Round and beyond, of foam, beneath whose snowy crest the ever-impelled and on the dark and barren heath, rose picturesque masses of angry wave yielded its last strength in myriad flashes of rock—the finger-stones which nature, it would seem, in some phosphoric light, that sparkled and danced in arrowy splenwayward frolic, had tossed into pinnacled heaps of strange and dour to the wild and sullen music of the dashing sea. multiform construction. About their base, and in the deep “Paddy Corbett, avick," said Shane Glas, “pull yer legs interstices of their sides, grew the holly and the hardy moun- fair an aisy afther ye; one inch iv a mistake, achorra, might