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and that I will also persevere in my endeavours to obtain an equal, full, and adequate representation of all the people of Ireland.

"I do further declare, that neither hopes, fears, rewards, nor punishments, shall ever induce me directly or indirectly, to inform against any members of this or similar societies, for any act, or expression of theirs, done or made, collectively or individually, in or out of the society, in pursuance of the spirit of the obligation."

"Kiss the book, my boy, an' your oath is taken; an' mind it, an' be a thrue man."

It is worthy of remark, that the only part of this celebrated oath which intimated without conveying its real import, is comprised in the last words we have marked in italics; and by referring to the words we have first so marked, the reader will perceive how different from the extended views of its philosophical framers, is the spirit in which it is taken by its present new adherents.

In this place, too, we may be permitted to add, that we do not by any means credit the authenticity of Bill Nale's version of the oath of the opposite fraternity. It does not appear possible that such a pledge of fellowship could

be entered into by any body of human beings. Anger, out of the lips of a rancorous sectarian, might unthinkingly speak the threat our juggler has seemed to quote; deliberation, even amongst sectarian rancour, still never, we hope and believe, could utter them.

That such, however, was the bond of adherence amongst Orangemen, the peasantry of the South of Ireland fully believed. The sanguinary persecution of their brethren in the North, and the undisputedly authentic manifestos of "To Hell or Connaught!" often promulgated by their Ulster enemies, necessarily caused such belief to be easy of acceptance. In the plan subsequently avowed by the minister, to produce, by goading the people, partial explosions of the rebellion throughout Ireland, the Protestant yeomanry of Wexford were, so far as Wexford was concerned, chiefly instrumental; and the ignorant and terrified population thus became confirmed in their notion, that, according to the oath rehearsed by Bill Nale, they were to be exterminated.

"Throw me your fist, my boy," the initiator continued to the man who had just been sworn. "The sign, now:" he taught it to him. "That will do; an', to make all sure, when

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ever you get it from a brother- Are you up?" you'll say to him; an' he'll make answer, 'I am up.' Then you'll ax him again—' Are you sthraight?' and he'll say, 'I am.'' How sthraight are you?' you'll question; As sthraight as a rush,' 'ill be his word; an' then you'll know him to be a thrue an' loyal brether; an' if he questions you, answer in the same sort for them is the words iv a thrue man."

The same ceremony was gone through with the three other candidates; and when the inauguration ended,

"Now blast up your fire to the roof o' the forge," continued the bustling lawgiver, " till Shawn-a-Gow makes the tools for these honest boys, that 'll work their way in spite o' guns an' bagnets."

The command was obeyed: once more the furnace sent up its roaring column of flame, revealing the effects of Bill's grim humour upon the features of the group; and Shawn-a-Gow, after a moment of brooding thought, his huge hands still hugged under his arms, suddenly. arose from his anvil, and proceeded, with freshened alertness and vigour, to conclude his practical part in the business of the night.

CHAPTER III.

MONTHS again elapse before our Tale moves forward. It is April: the budding graces of youthful Nature are abroad on every shrub and tree; and that bosom must be made of unkindly stuff, or its primitive sensibilities must have been destroyed by passion, by care, or by rough contact with the world, which glows not cheerily at the view.

our eye,

It is April too, when, with our countenance of deep cogitation, we are employed in compiling our story; and, as we unconsciously raise and look forth even over the confined view of spring, framed, like a picture, by the limits of our study-window, the furrow above Iour brow of thought relaxes, the wrinkle of combination around our mouth curves into a smile; and the current of life joyously tingles through our sobered veins.

The cloud that has just shed the gently

falling shower, too heavy to be moved by the soft breeze, yet hangs on high,—a sombre canopy, of which the curtained edges, catching the slant sunbeam, become chequered and fringed, beyond the imitation of art, with glowing vermilion, or with burnished gold. To the west is a mellow, clear speck of sky, whence, in a flood of dazzling light, flows the radiance of the setting luminary. Partly intercepted by intervening trees, garden-turrets, and gothic ruins, he flings his golden smiles but upon portions of objects, while their less favoured parts soften into the cool grey tint of evening. Among the budding trees and garden bushes, he glances at random in laughing brilliancy; changing into a bright yellow the yet unexpanded leaf, or the milky blossom into rich orange; transforming into diamond sparks each rain-drop that pends from bud and branch and blade; clothing in radiance yon ivy-covered castle, and spreading in a milder stream of glory over the distant heights.

The breeze scarce flutters the infant leaves, and, as if to fondle with their young and innocent beauty, tenderly breathes upon the blossoms. Yonder majestic pear-tree, planted by the monks of former days, that has opened

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