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some such manner as this, to use and exercise, is matter of life. We are much assisted in it by example, instruction, certain experience.

and the care of others; but a great deal is left to ourselves Thus, by accustoming ourselves to any course of action, to do. And of this, as part is easily done, and of course, we get an aptness to go on, a facility, readiness, and often so part requires diligence and care, the voluntary foregoing pleasure in it. And a new character, in several respecis, many things which we desire, and setting ourselves to what may be formed ; and many habitudes of life, not given by we should have no inclination to, but for the necessity or nature, but which nature directs us to acquire.

expedience of it. For, that labour and industry, which Nature does in no wise qualify us wholly, much less at the station of so many absolutely requires, they would be once, for a mature state of life. Even maturity of under greatly unqualified for in maturity; as those in other stastanding and bodily strength, are not only arrived to gra tions would be, for any other sorts of application, if both dually, but are also very much owing to the continued ex were not accustomed to them in their youth. And accordercise of our powers of body and mind, from infancy. But ing as persons behave themselves in the general education if we suppose a person brought into the world with both which all go through, and in the particular ones adapted these in maturity, as far as this is conceivable; he would to particular employments, their character is formed, and plainly at first be as unqualified for the human life of ma made appear; they recommend themselves more or less, ture age, as an idiot. He would be in a manner distracted and are capable of, and placed in, different stations in the with astonishment, and apprehension, and curiosity, and society of mankind. suspense : nor can one guess how long it would be before

The former part of life then, is to be considered as an he would be familiarized to himself and the objects about important opportunity which Nature puts into our hands ; him, enough even to set himself to anything. It may be and which, when lost, is not to be recovered. And our questioned, too, whether the natural information of his being placed in a state of discipline throughout this life, sight and hearing, would be of any manner of use to him for another world, is a providential disposition of things, in acting, before experience. And it seems that men would exactly of the same kind as our being placed in a state of be strangely head strong and self-willed, and disposed to discipline during childhood, for mature age. Our condition exert themselves with an impetuosity, which would render in both respects is uniform and of a piece, and comprehendsociety insupportable, and the living in it impracticable, ed under one and the same general law of Nature. were it not for some acquired moderation and self-government, some aptitude and readiness in restraining themselves, and concealing their sense of things. Want of everything

Can any man, possessing a moderate degree of commonof this kind which is learnt, would render a man as incapa-sense, not see with a glance, that if butter, bread, cheese, ble of society, as want of language would ; or as his natural calicoes, woollens, &c., &c., &c., can now be bought at half ignorance of any of the particular enıployments of life would the price they could formerly, and that the amount of the

salaries of the servants of Government, its pensioners and render him incapable of providing himself with the common conveniences, or supplying the necessary wants of it. In these its annuities remain the same, that those classes get twice respects, and probably in many more, of which we have no

as much of the produce of the labouring classes ; that, in particular notion, mankind is left by nature, an unformed, fact, they are as well off as if the people had said, we will unfinished creature ; utterly deficient and unqualified, before double your salaries, pensions, &c., but prices shall not be the acquirement of knowledge, experience, and habits, for altered. A sapient senator said, prices have fallen from that mature state of life which was the end of his creation, facility of production ; this should be for the advantage of considering him as related only to this world.

the producers, I should think, and would have been so had But then, as Nature has endowed us with a power of sup- instead of increasing the facility of producing that also, so

not Parliament diminished the facility of producing money, plying those deficiences, by acquiring knowledge, experi. ence, and habits ; so, likewise, we are placed in a condition that it might keep pace with every thing else. Do not in infancy, childhood, and youth, fitted for it; fitted for supply and demand regulate markets ? This admitted, is

it not evident, that if the quantity of the medium of exour acquiring those qualifications of all sorts which we stand in need of in mature age. Hence, children, from change either diminishes, or remains even stationary, whilst their very birth, are daily growing acquainted with the

the quantities of every thing else increase that the medium objects about them, with the scene in which they are placed rises, or, what is the same thing, every thing else falls, and

thus the Government employs, from top to bottom, pen. and to have a future part; and learning somewhat or other

sioners to prey upon the producing classes, and exact from necessary to the performance of it. The subordinations to

them what ought to have been the reward of their invenwhich they are accustomed in domestic life, teach them

tion and increased toil. self-government in common behaviour abroad, and prepare them for subjection and obedience to civil authority. EXERCISE, COURAGE, AND RECREATION. What passes before their eyes, and daily happens to them, The exercise which I commend first, is the exact use of gives them experience, caution against treachery and deceit, their weapon, to guard, and to strike safely with edge or together with numberless little rules of action and conduct, point ; this will keep them healthy, nimble, strong, and which we could not live without, and which are learnt so well in breath; it is also the likeliest means to make them insensibly and so perfectly, as to be mistaken perhaps for grow large and tall, and to inspire them with a gallant and instinct ; though they are the effect of long experience and fearless courage, which being tempered with seasonable lec, exercise ; as much so as language, or knowledge in par- tures and precepts to them of true fortitude and patience, ticul business, or the qualifications and behaviour belong-will turn into a native and heroic valour, and make them ing to the several ranks and professions.

hate the cowardice of doing wrong.

The interim of unThus the beginning of our days is adapted to be, and is, sweating themselves regularly, and convenient rest before a state of education in the theory and practice of mature meat, may both with profit and delight be taken up in re.

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THE CAUSE OF BAD GOVERNMENT.

creating and composing their travailed spirits with the

COLUMN POR THE LADIES. solemn and divine harmonies of music heard or learned ;

BLACK EYES AND BLUE. either whilst the skilful organist plies his grave and fancied

BLACK eyes most dazzle at a ball ; descent in lofty fugues, or, the whole symphony with artful

Blue eyes most please at evening fall and unimaginable touches adorn and grace the well studied Black a conquest soonest gain ; chords of some choice composer ; sometimes the lute or soft

The blue a conquest most retain ; organ stop waiting on elegant voices, either to religious,

The black bespeak a lively heart,

Whose soft emotions soon depart;
martial, or civil ditties ; which, if wise men and prophets The blue a steadier flame betray,
be not extremely out, have a great power over dispositions That burns and lives beyond a day.
and manners, to smooth and make them gentle from rustic The black my features best disclose ;
harshness and distempered passsions.-Milton.

In blue my feelings all repose.
Then let each reign without control;

The black all mind, the blue all soul.
THE immediate cause of all the mischief of misrule is,
that the men acting as the representatives of the people

MR. MOORE'S NEW WORK. have a private and sinister interest, and sufficient power

From one of the Homilies of St. Chrysostom, who, it is to gratify that interest, producing a constant sacrifice of known, particularly distinguished himself by his severe the interest of the people. The seconda y cause of the strictures on the gay dresses of the Constantinopolitan ladies, mischief-the cause of this immediate cause_is this, that the following specimen of his style of rebuke, on such subthese same agents are in one case unduly independent, in iects, is selected, and thus translated by Moore, in his rew another unduly dependent. They are independent of their work, “ Travels of an Irish Gentleman, in search of a Ri. principals--the people ; and dependent upon the Conserva.

ligion.tor-General, by whose corruptive influence the above-men

Why come ye to the place of prayer, tioned sacrifice is produced.-Bentham

With jewels in your braided bair?

And wherefore is the House of God A NOBLE RESOURCE IN PAINFUL MOMENTS.

By glittering feet profanely trod, WHENSOEVER thou wilt rejoice thyself, call to mind the

As if, vain things, ye came to keep

Some festival, and not to weep ?-several gifts and virtues of them whom thou dost daily con

Oh! prostrate weep before that Lord verse with ; as, for example, the industry of the one, and

Of earth and heaven, of life and death, the modesty of another, the liberality of a third, of another

Who blights the fairest with a word, some other thing. For nothing can so much rejoice thee as

And blasts the mightiest with a breath! the resemblances and parallels of several virtues, visible and

Go'tis not thus, in proud array,

Such sinful souls should dare to pray. eminent in the dispositions of those who live with thee ;

Vainly to anger'd Heaven ye raise especially when all at once, as near as may be, they present

Luxurious hands where diamonds blaze ; themselves unto thee. See, therefore, that thou have them

And she who comes in broider'd veil always in a readiness.-Meditations of Marcus Aurelius

To weep her frailty, still is frail. Antoninus.

We must give another specimen of this work-it is the

pathetic remonstrance addressed by St. Basil to a Fallea SLUMBER

Virgin, (of which Fenelon has said, “ on ne peut rien coir (FROM THE SPANISH.)

de plus eloquent.") It abounds with passages to which, Flow, softly flow, thou murmuring stream! though in the form of prose, such poetry as the following Beside my Lady's bower ;

does but inadequate justice :-
And do not mar her spirit's dream,

ST. BASIL TO A FALLEN VIRGIN.
In this delightful hour. ,

Remember now that virgin choir
But, gently rippling, greet her ear : 18.00

Who loved thee, lost one, as thou art,
With sounds that lull the soul,

Before the world's profane desire
As near the bower, all bright and clear,

Had warm'd thine eye, and chill'd thy heart.
Thy beauteous billows roll.

Recall their looks, so brightly calm,
Blow, softly blow, thou balmy air !

Around the lighted shrine at even,
Beside my Lady's bower ;

When, mingling in the vesper psalm,
The rudest winds would hush, to spare

Thy spirit seem'd to sigh for heaven.
So soft and fair a flower!

Remember, too, the tranquil sleep
Breathe gently o'er her rosy cheek, į

That o'er thy lonely pillow stole,
Thy mildest, purest balm;

While thou hast pray'd that God would keep
But heed, lest thou a slumber break

From every harm thy virgin soul.
So beautiful and calm.

Where is it now that innocent

And happy time, where is it gone ? First ENGLISH DEED.--The earliest instance yet

Those light repasis, where young Content known of the English tongue being used in a deed, is that

And Temperance stood smiling on; of the indenture between the Abbot, and Convent of Whit The maiden step, the seemly dress, by, and Robert, the son of John Bustard, dated at York, in In which thou went'st along so mzek ; the year 1343.

I The blush that, at a look, or less, A MOST REMARKABI.E MAY IN PERTH. An old chro Oame o'er the paleness of thy cheek; nicle of the affairs of Perth, speaking of the year 1630," 'Alas, alas, that paleness, too, says--" In this May were five Setterdays, five Mondays - That bloodless purity of brow, twa changes in the mone, twn eclipses of the sone, ane uther More touching than the rosiest hue of the mode, all in our horizone."

On beauty's cheek-where it now!

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THE STORY-TELLER.

Towards the year of 1798, the interests of those rival

houses, that had been long gradually uniting, were about A TALE OF NINETY-EIGHT.

to be blended for ever by the union of the heir of the Barrys,

and the daughter and only child of Philip Redmond, of Those who have been so fortunate as to have passed a few summer months in the barony of Forth, enjoying the his affections and cares were centred in this daughter ; feel

R— Philip Redmond had been long a widower, all hospitalities of its kind-hearted and primitive inhabitants, ing his health declining rapidly, he rejoiced that she should roving through its blossomed bean fields—Wandering along be so well settled before he left the world ; and well he its indented coast-tracing the remains of the Dane and Norman ; or, what is still more delightful, viewing its neat might, for never were there a pair better formed for the farm-houses, with their orchards, bee-gardens, and all those

happiness of each other. The stranger who might have evidences of rural comfort, that remove so effectually from

met them in their evening rambles through the rich and the mind every idea of toil and poverty, and admiring the fruitful fields, or wandering along the sea-shore

, by which

the farm of Rfair blue-eyed girls, whose taste and industry have so largely with indifference—could not forget for a time the expression

- was situated, could not pass them by contributed to the embellishment of their happy homes, of rapture that lighted up the fine manly countenance of must often turn with pleasure to the beautiful pictures of Lambert Barry, as he listened to the unconscious bursts of Nature in her happiest aspect, which those scenes have im- feeling, or the playful sallies of the beautiful girl that hung pressed on their memory.

on his arm ; while his fancy coloured, with the warm hues During the unfortunate year of 1798, the ravages of of love and hope, the years of bliss that seemed brightening death and ruin that desolated this unhappy country, were

before them : but coming events cast their shadows on the deeply felt in this quarter, hitherto so distinguished for path of the happy couple. Societies of the United Irishmen peace and good order ; and many traces of this disastrous period may be found there even at this day.

were at this period formed in every part of the country, and

Lambert Barry became a member of that body long before Few may pass the lands of R without remarking he was aware of the consequence to which that step would a tall blackened gable, rising like a gloomy shadow, which lead. This circumstance made no change in his liabits or no sunbeam brightens ; the offices once attached to it have temper for a time, for his mind was too much occupied with been long since levelled ; the plough has passed over the rational plans of happiness to indulge in the speculations orchard and enclosures by which it was surrounded, and with which others of the fraternity which he had joined, nothing is left but this solitary wall, to mark that a dwel. amused their imaginations ; but he was brave and high ling had formerly been there. This now deserted spot had spirited, impatient of injury and insult, and loved his counbeen, for a century at least, the residence of a family named try too well, not to be driven to desperation by the little Redmond, who held a lease of the townland attached to it, on such terms as left to the lord of the soil little from this tyrants who seemed to be turned loose on her, for the pur

pose of goading her people to madness. His sound judgment part of his estate, beyond the honour of signing a receipt and good sense might have saved him notwithstanding, had and paying the quit-rent. We cannot say what advance there been any fair field left open for the exercise of them ; the younger branches of this family might have made towards fortune or beggary, when they left the paternal roof who knew the dangers by which he was surrounded, and

but he was exposed to the machinations of a secret enemy, and entered the high-ways of the world ; but, we can safely resolved he should not escape from them. This was a state, that the heirs of R one after another, held pretty much the same course; contenting themselves to live young man of rather a good personal appearance, and conin peace and abundance, and practice all the unpretending thriving farmer in the neighbourhood named Ganly, who

siderable pretensions for his sphere in life; the son of a virtues of benevolence and hospitality without impairing, well knew how to avail himself of all the advantages posin any great degree, or in the least improving their inheri. tance. Their lot was a happy one, but there is no condi- sessed by a loyal Protestant in those days. This youth

hated Lambert Barry, who was wholly unconscious of ever tion exempt from some crosses. The repose of the good people of Rwas often disturbed by a rivalry, and having done him the slightest injury, with all the rancour

of one whose heart is corroded with envy, and burning to consequent jealousy, that existed between them and the Barrys, a neighbouring family much in their own circum- revenge the fancied slights and insults of those whom they

are forced to acknowledge their superiors. stances. We are seldom at a loss for a cause to keep up the

The marriage of Lambert and Mary, which had been quarrel that originates in vanity; with these good folks, some point of precedence, that a council of all the old gossips in long settled on, was to have taken place in the spring of the

ycar before mentioned, but was postponed to the following the parish could alone settle—the cut of a coat, the colour autumn, in consequence of the death of a near relation to of a ribbon, the slightest movement in private or public, one of the parties ; in the meantime, the outrages committhat seumed to imply an assumption of superiority by one ted by the arined Orangemen on the people, drove the latter party, was sure to provoke the hostility of the other.

But into open rebellion, and long before the time arrived at love, who in general delights so much in mischief, often, to which Lambert was to have led his betrothed bride to the do him justice, proved a pacificator between those worthy altar, he found himself an exile from his home, an outlaw people; he blinded the young to the faults and follies which on the hills, the leader of a wild and infuriated band, formed, their parents had been so quick-sighted in discovering ; for the inost part, of men who had been driven from their while they saw, with approving eyes, the thousand agreeable blazing homes and ruined families—men, whose watchword qualities possessed by each other—so that the fond and in.

was vengeance on their persecutors—a vengeance they too dulgent father and mother were now more than once driven often wreaked on the innocent, without measure or mercy. to the extremity of sacrificing some darling prejudice to the It would be impossible to describe the feelings of Lamhappiness of a darling child ; and thus the feuds of the bert, when he reflected on the happiness from which he had Barrys and Redmonds, like the sorrows and trials of many been torn, and the hopeless and desperate situation in which a gentle heroine ended in a wedding.

he was placed ; alternately excited almost to madness by

the reckless spirit, and daring valour of the men he led, and violently, and heedless of the calls of his mother to him to sickened with the horrors he was obliged to witness, and return and be quiet. could not prevent, he was dragged on from scene to scene,

At length she was obliged to leave Mary, who was now until the defeat of his brave but undisciplined band, at the slowly reviving, to the care of her mother-in-law, and fal. memorable battle of Ross, relieved him from the galling low her refractory boy; as she approached the little enstation he had filled, and left him at liberty to choose his closure into which he had taken flight, she thought she heard own path.

the sound of a well-known voice; she started, and paused About a week after this dearly purchased victory over the

an instant to listen ; the screams of the child had sunk to a rebel forces, which filled the surrounding country with grief whimpering tone : some person appeared to be soothing and dismay, Mary Redmond left the side of her father, him; she advanced with a beating heart, entered the little whose feeble constitution was now completely broken down garden, and, to her unspeakable surprise and joy, found by the disappointment of his hopes, and the continual her child in the arms of his father. Gazing on him for a alarms with which he had been harassed since the break- time, as if she had doubted the evidence of her senses, she ing out of the insurrection, and walked into the fields to

then rushed forward, and throwing herself on his neck, breathe the air, or rather to give vent to the feelings with could only say " It's you, you then, your own-self, and which her heart was bursting; for she had heard no ac- you still live?" count of Lambert since the battle, and judged that he had

“ I b'lieve I do, Anty, my darlint," replied Hayes ; e bal fallen.

no one can tell how long he'll have that story to tell in those The beauty of the surrounding landscape, as it shone in times; if I stopped long here, I'd have a short reckoning the yellow beams of the setting sun, had something of re of it ; there's a sharp look-out for me hereabouts, and for pose in its aspeet, that might well have soothed a weary or others, too, of more consequence than I am ; so bring so wounded heart ; but to poor Mary the view of it was agony; to my mother, if there's no stranger within : and do you, she covered her eyes-pressed her hand on her burning Anty, jewel, run to the big house as fast as your legs can carry hrow, as if to shut it out from her sight, and paused for you, and give this scrap of a note to Miss Mary." some time; then starting, seemingly roused by the breaking “ Miss Mary, is here in the cabin, poor thing; but tell of the waves on the beach that lay but a short distance from me, Billy, have you any new's of Mr. Lambert ?" the spot where she stood, with a hurried step pursued her “ Come, come, I can't stay here to tell you," said Hayes, course in that direction. Passing the cabin of one of her making a few rapid strides in the direction of the cabin, and father's labourers, who had followed the rebel standard, she muttering to himself as he went. saw his aged mother standing in the little yard before it, “ Billy, dear," said his wife, following him, “ for the love anxiously watching the setting sun, while the prattle of a

of heaven don't attempt to go in on them of a suddent, or fine boy, about four years old, that was clinging to her side, you'll kill them ; the life is hardly in Miss Mary, far she seemed to awaken the emotions of grief and tenderness thinks its all over with Mr. Lambert, and your mother 15 that were visible on her countenance. Mary approached half light wid throuble for you." her, well knowing the source of her inquietude; her son “ Well, here's the man that can cure 'em both ; bat box had not returned from the battle, nor had she heard any is the poor masther, Anty?" tidings of him since that fatal day ; the poor woman on see 6 Ah, poorly enough, Billy, honey; its only the shadow ing her burst into tears, exclaiming, “ Miss Mary, my of him that's in it,” said Aaty; "these eruel times have kilt jewel, what brings you to this desolate spot ?” “Have you him.” beard any news, Ally ?" said Mary, in a faint voice.

“ They've kilt many a brave man,” said Hayes, moum. Ay, news enough, my darlint," the old woman replied, fully; “ but never a kinder one than my poor, poor masther ; wringing her hands, “ but little to comfort me : I hear the but let me see Miss Mary; run in, Anty, tell 'em I'm comin, story of death and destruction in every mouth, and my boy if you like_but be quick." comes not to his sorrowful mother." While she was speak Hayes gave little time to his wife to prepare his mother ing, the wife of her son entered the yard, with the wild and and Mary for his appearance ; she had scarcely finished disordered look and manner of one rendered almost frantic the usual preface of, “ Oh! well to be sure, and now don' by grief and terror.

be frightened at what I'ın goin to tell ye," when he cut * You have heard of him, Anty," cried the old woman; her short in her narrative, by presenting himself before “ I see the dark sorrow in your brow—spake, girl, spake, them. - tell his ould mother where she may find her boy's “ My son, my son," were the only words his mother kad

power to articulate on seeing him, while Mary remained « His grave is a deep one, I fear, mother honey," replied motionless with astonishment. the afflicted wife. “ Tom Murphy, who run home first to “ Don't cry, mother, honey," said Hayes, " you see I'm tell 'em he was alive, saw him at the river's brink, by the alive still; but, to keep myself so, I must be goin qaickly side of Lambert, in the thickest of the fight; but never heard from this, or I might soon have unwelcome company wid of him or seen him since.”

me; but cheer up, be of good heart, all may be well yet On hearing this intelligence, Mary uttered a piercing there's a boat on the beach that will soon carry me out of cry, and would have fallen to the ground, if Anty Hayes danger, and there's one in that boat, Miss Mary, who reahad not caught her in her arms and supported her. Whilst tures his life to see you once more." the women were using all their simple skill to restorc her, “ Who, Mr. Barry ?" said Mary eagerly; "he is safe, the boy thinking Mary was dying, and terrified by the al- then?" tered and distracted looks of his mother and grandmother, Not altogether safe," said Hayes ; " but, if you'd have ran towards the little garden adjoining the cabin, screaming him so, you'd best come with me and advise him to lat

grave."

this place withont delay, for I've rasou to think his enemies ine, of one of the Saltee islands, until the pursuit cools a are not far off."

little; and then, with the assistance of Hayes, to pro“ I will go to him, then," said Mary; " lead the way, cure a boat and escape to France, from which place I inHayes, without further loss of time, and you, Anty, come tend to embark for America, to try my fortune in the new with us, that you may accompany me home.”

world." Before leaving his cabin, Hayes turned to his mother, “ Then fly from hence," interrupted Mary, “without a who had sat down in silent sorrow beside her cheerless moment's delay ; I shall do all you have desired me ; save hearth; and his stout heart melted within him as he yourself, and we may yet be happy." placed his boy on her knee, and bent down to receive her She had scarcely finished these words, when they heard a blessing, and perhaps her last farewell ; but recovering loud shout in the direction of Hayes' cabin, which was himself in an instant, he rushed out, followed by Mary and answered by another from a different quarter. his wife, and a few minutes' walk brought them in view of Ere the unfortunate pair could stir froin the spot, or the boat.

utter a word, Hayes darted from the bank where he was “Go now, Miss,” said Hayes, “ spake to Mr. Lambert ; standing, and began to push the boat out to sea, exclaiming, it will give him new life to see you ; it may be the saving “There, now, Misther Lambert, there, now; afther all we of him. Anty and I will remain here until you come

waited for them—they are scattered right and left over the back; and make haste, Miss, dear, the time is slipping over town. Come, Sir, come put your hand to the boat, and let's us very fast."

take the only road that's ready for us.” Mary approached the boat, against which Lambert was “ Fly, Lambert, fly from this fatal spot," cried Mary in leaning, pale, haggard, and only sustained from sinking un an agony of terror. “ Heavens, do you fold your arms and der the toil he had endured, by a spirit of desperation. The remain immoveable, and your pursuers at your back! Will darkness of the hour could not conceal from her the change you have me see you murdered before my eyes ?" in his countenance; she clasped the hand he extended to re “] cannot leave you, Mary,” said Lambert, “ to the ceive her, and wept passionately. Lambert drew her gently mercy of those ruffians, though I shall die at your feet; you to him, and rested her head on his bosom ;-the horrors he cannot now return to your father's house in safety." had so lately witnessed, the dangers he had passed, all he “ You are mad, yoų are mad !" cried Mary wildly, had yet to apprehend, were forgotten in that moment of “Dear; dear Lambert,” she then added in a supplicating brief, but exquisite happiness, as, gazing on his betrothed tone, “hare pity, have mercy on me, and save yourself." bride, he surrendered his whole soul to the charm her pure As she thus spoke, she grasped his arm with all her force, and devoted attachment breathed over it.

as if to urge him into the boat which was waiting for him. Mary soon roused him from this dream. “ It is not thus, At this moment, the voices of some persons approaching the Lambert," she said, "we should waste the few minutes that strand were distinctly heard. Lambert, roused by the are left us. I know the dangers by which yon are sur. pressing danger, recovered in an instant his wonted energy. rounded; tell me then quickly what are your plans for the Taking Mary, who was now rendered passive by terror, in future_whither do you go, and where or when may we hope his arms, he placed her in the boat, jumped in after her, to meet again ?"

an't seizing an oar, aided so powerfully the efforts of Hayes, “ Heaven alone can tell, my dearest Mary,” said Lam- that in a few moments, and before Mary could utter a word, bert, “ for I must fly this country without delay—a gibbet the little skiff was dancing on the waves, concealed from or grave is all that now remains in poor Ireland for me.- those on the beach by the shade of night. I am almost hunted down.--That cold-blooded assassin, “My father, my poor father !" were the first words pro. Ganly, who, I suppose, is calculating on the confiscation of nounced by Mary, “to leave him at such a time-heigmy property, and his ruffian gang, are on my track where. norant of my fate, too ;-it will kill him! I am worse ever I turn; I should have been long since their prey, if an than the wretches who are now surrounding his house." other of my neighbours, honest John Smith, who belongs to * Be calm, Mary, my love," said Lambert in a firm tone, this troop, and who, though obliged “to herd with tigers," “ your absence at this hour may be well for you both; has not lost the feelings of a man, had not contrived to warn sanguinary as they are, they will not attempt to offer viome of the'r designs against me. Poor faithful Hayes, who lence to your father in his present state of health. I do has risked his life a hundred times to save mine, saw him not mean to carry you to the island ; we shall keep near this morning ; I was then lying concealed a few miles from the shore, and when all is quiet there, we shall land, and hence, near the sea-shore, waiting for a boat to bring me leave you at Hayes' cabin, where you may be sheltered for hither, as I could find no safe path by land. He sent me the night, if you cannot return home with safety." word not to attempt landing here, as it was suspected that “ An its there you'd be welcome, Miss, said Hayes, " for I was somewhere in this neighbourhood—that my enemies there's them sitting sorrowful enough in that poor hut that kept a close eye on this quarter that he knew not how would shelter you in their hearts within." 300n the party would be out to search it, and that he feared As he spoke, he directed his eyes towards where it stood, much their fury would be turned against your father. But when, to his unutterable horror, he beheld a burst of smoke his warning was vain ; I would die a thousand deaths rather and flame rising from its roof. He groaned heavily, and than leave the country without seeing you, and putting you dropped his oar on the edge of the boat. Lambert, unable on your guard against the dangers that threaten you. You to comfort him, watched the progress of the fire in silence, have friends among the Protestant gentry, who possess suf- while Mary, bewildered with terror, clung to his arm. ficient authority to be able to control those wretches ; lose The materials of the roof being dry and decayed, it was no time, then, in applying to them for protection. I exo quickly consumed's as it fell in, the flickering flame rose, and rect to be able to be concealed in a cavern, well known to sunk for a short time ; then expired, and all was dark again.

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