billows, and he bore Mary home fainting in his arms. That night the tempest roared among the rocks, while vivid flashes of lightning illuminated the heavens, succeeded by hoarse thunder claps, which rent the air. In the morning, when the gale subsided, the surrounding shores were searched for the young fisherman, but no trace of him could be discovered. A year rolled on, and in that space many changes had occurred in the peaceful village of Liscanner. Old Duncan died shortly after the disappearance of his son. On the brow of the innkeeper rested a settled melancholy, and his forehead was wrinkled with care. Mary, his daughter, was pronounced by the doctor to be fading away under a rapid consumption, and at her request her father allowed her to dwell with her grandmother at Moher. Oft would she sit at the window from which she first beheld her lost Edward, lost to her for ever; but she durst not venture on the wild cliff where oft she loved to roam, and soon she durst not walk frem her bed-room to the parlour of the cottage, without the assistance of her aged grandmother. * Six dreary months passed. Judy sat gloomy and melancholy at her lonesome fire-side. The storm howled furiously abroad. "God help 'em that are on say to-night, Tom! God help 'em!" exclaimed his mother; "an' my poor Mary, this is a cold night for her to be out, my poor, poor child." The bright tear rolled down the old woman's cheek and dropped on the hearth-stone. In one of the pauses of the storm a gun was heard from the sea, and shortly after another. "Ha!" exclaimed the son, "I saw that ship to-day between us and the islands of Arran, from the telegraph; the poor souls will be wrecked; there 'ill be no hope unless they make for the Hag's Head, and then the most that can be done for 'em is to save their lives." Another gun was heard booming over the mingled war of the sea and wind. "That last gun," said Tom, "came from the Hag's Head, and they have a chance of being saved." Towards morning the wind fell, and the moon, in its last quarter, rose red and glaring; the waves still rose mountains high, and a long white belt of surge skirted the shore. The day had scarcely dawned when a knock was heard at the door of Judy Coffee's dwelling; her son drew the bolt, and a stranger entered. Tom caught his hand and inquired, Is this Edward Duncan ?" The first words he spoke were" Where's Mary?" Judy hid her face in her shawl and wept like a child, while her son was deeply affected and replied not. "Oh Heavens! she's dead!" he exclaimed, and rushed from the cottage. There is a little church-yard by the road's side, a mile from Liscanner, which the peasants call Cilevic-crihu, in the centre of which is the wreck of a large gothic window covered with ivy; while around the pile of crumbled ruins, broken tomb-stones are sheltered from the breeze by bunches of thickly grown nettles. On the day after the tempest, two men, emerging from the road, crossed the gap and walked in sileuce along the tenement of the dead. Arriving at a grave on which the wild daisy was springing up among grass, they stopped; and the eldest of the party said, in a choked voice and with tearful eye the On "There she lies! my poor daughter, Mary! the quay the night you departed, I called out to you, but you heard me not. Oh! had you returned, she would not now be lying in that cold narrow bed. She faded like the summer flower, my poor, lost Mary!" The old man groaned, and fell over his daughter's grave. "That night-that storm!" exclaimed Edward, staring wildly on the grass" would that I had been buried in the deepest abyss of the ocean: but I was born for misery. We drove before the gale for two days, when a vessel took me on board; 'twas on a voyage to America, and we never touched a British port 'till last night, when we were wrecked off the Hag's Head, and three of the crew lost. Oh! I was born for misery!" Seizing Coffee's hand, he continued" But why do I delay? All is now lost to me-father, Mary, and all! The remainder of my wretched life shall be devoted to the service of my country!" And, stranger, as you pass by that little romantic church-yard, think that the cold blast springing from the bay sweeps over the early grave of Mary, the Maid of Liscanner! R. S. C. THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM.-The form of the organs of support of the vegetable kingdom vary in every class: in the lowest tribes there are no hard fibres nor any lignin present; the stem being composed of the same description of cellular tissue as is. the root of the plant. Proceeding from one extreme to the other, we reach the highest classes, and there find specimens with stems, or rather trunks, fifty, sixty, or a hundred feet in height, composed of a tissue which in some cases approaches towards the hardness and density of iron, and which in many instances withstands the strongest attacks of the most keen and well-tempered instruments. The wood of the pomegranate tree is nearly half as heavy again as an equal bulk of water; lignum vitæ, also, will not swim upon the surface of that fluid; many other woods are still more dense than these. Cork and poplar, again, are about one-fourth lighter than water, and are about the lightest of known woods. Not only the density but the size of the vegetable skeleton varies very considerably: we have the common mould, with a stem not above an inch in length, and scarcely of the thickness of a piece of sewing cotton, and we have chesnut trees, as that of Etma, within the trunk of which there is space sufficient for the standing of one hundred horsemen. There is an oak, also, at Brentwood, which is sixty-eight feet round; and a sitting-room, thirteen feet in diameter was exhibited a few years back in London, at the Oxford-street Bazaar, hollowed out from the trunk of a walnut tree. The great palm tree of Africa, and the common mahogany tree of Cuba, often attain an altitude of 100 feet; and the banana of the East Indies has a stem twenty feet in height, which is annual, or is reproduced every year. STREET MINSTRELSY IN VIENNA.-At Vienna no popular amusements are complete without music; during the summer evenings each public garden has its own band of musicians assembled on a platform, nor is the pettiest retailer of beer or wine without his especial set of performers. Every corner in the Prater has its singer; under every oak is to be met with a troop of musicians, either Bohemians or Hungarians, with their cymbals, wind instruments, and psalteries. The life led by the inhabitants of Vienna, as they lounge about the Prater, is somewhat similar to that of the Germans in the Walhalla; the veriest street beggar is not without a violin, guitar, or harp. Music is at Vienna the property of the people, and admitting its liability to considerable modifications as regards form, still it can never be entirely lost sight of. GERMAN PRINCES.-In Germany you will see princes sitting in public places with their friends, with a cup of coffee, as unassumingly and as little times see a grand duke enter a country inn, call for a noticed as any respectable citizen. You may someglass of ale, drink it, pay for it, and go away as unceremoniously as yourself.-Howitt's Life in Germany. WONDERS OF CREATION. What a splendid revelation of His existence and varied power has the Almighty given to the grandeur and strangeness of his creations! Can we gather into calm thought the little he has shown to us of His magnificence and omnipotence? Millions of stars illuminate and shine upon our passage of a few short years to the grave. God has exerted his infinite intelligence in performing and bringing about the most unlooked-for, incredible, and stupendous miracles. He has created man, whose thoughts "wander through eternity:" and the poor earth-worm, who possesses neither brains, eyes, ears, or bones. In this world are seen hugh whales, giving birth every now and then to a monstrous and unwieldy cub; and here also are found the sturgeon and the herring spawning at one time millions of fishes. The great Author of Nature can do what he pleases; with Him there is no restrictions, no impossibilities; Nature becomes what we would have it; time and space, illimitable and boundless, are filled with the productions of his wisdom, the wonders of his mysterious and incomprehensible existence. Nature in her developments is indeed a theme for admiration: what bewildering story of magic equals the romance of vegetation, when returning spring calls forth the flowers from the dull mould, and covers the trees with green leaves and fruit, and beauty? The riches of God and his benevolence are nowhere more displayed than in the liberality with which he pours out life; if the children of one pair of the human family went on without check increasing for 1,500 years, they would, at the expiration of that time, have given birth to more than 35,000 times the present population of the whole earth. ; The Deity has in Nature exhibited alike his boundless extravagance and surprising economy; a polypi is not wasted. He has shown his power by his various creations; there are bees and ants, which are neutral as to sex; and leeches, which are in themselves both male and female; zoophytes grow like plants on rocks; oysters have no locomotion; while the pigeon will dash through a hundred miles in some minutes; or the adventu rous coote cross deserts and oceans without a pilot; the lion falls in the forest, and his lordly carcase gives being to a host of things; the larvæ of nameless insects produce moths and butterflies all beautiful as the dragon fly may appear, the germ of its fantastic and curious being once floated on the rivers, and marshy pools, without form or motion, in a tiny egg; the mole lives in dark galleries under the surface of the earth; toads exist for centuries enclosed in solid blocks of marble; snakes breathe for years, and neither eat nor drink; a star-fish, if cut to pieces, but divides its being, and what before was one existence becomes many. Thus does God triumph in the boundlessness of power, shutting within the small compass of an acorn, a forest to overshadow miles, or endowing an orange pip with sufficient fecundity to cover acres with trees and fruit. The creation is full of wonders; these are merely specimens taken at random from the vast arcana. Through what dense volumes of air must the comet cut its victorious way! what hells of fire toss up their flames to the crater of Mount Etna! what oceans of water dash in foam and fury against the rock-ribbed earth! How the winds sing hallelujas to His name. His naine, which glows alike in the burning-sauds of the torid zone, and shines in the cold and desolate ice of the arctic regions! The investigation of modern astronomers have thrown such a light upon the amplitude and immensity of the creation, that language is unable to express or make known the magnificence of their discoveries. Vast as the planetary system is, of which our earth forms a part, it dwindles to a mere point in space, a twinkling light, when the mind beholds ten thousand more such systems rolling in the immeasurable largeness, in the eternal circle which they occupy. The fearful magnitude of room by which we are encompassed is a subject almost too vast for human contemplation, and the mind staggers with the weight of its own conceptions. Were we to travel millions of years, and miles, east or west, the distance would be undiminshed; we might still travel further and further, and further, without end! Having glanced at the wonders of the infinitely large, now let us with the assistance of the hydro-oxygen microscope behold worlds as infinitely small, for God has spread out the starry skies, and He has made creatures so little that the effluvia of a rose-bud is food for thousands!— London Journal. THE LOVER'S REQUEST. I'll wait thee in thy silent bower, When the bright sun is tinging red The woodbine, cowslip, wild-grown flower, And violet in its verdant bed. Louisa! dearest to my breast, How sweet it is to think of thee! Oh! hasten to thy sylvan rest Oh! hasten there, and fly with me. May angels guard thee in thy flight, And silv'ry Luna light the way That wafts thy footsteps, gay and spright, To my fond arms, sweet queen of May ! 'll wait thee, and I'll sing thy praise Beneath the castle on the shore; The Gods will strengthen all my lays, And tune my lyre to praise thee more. My shalop's moored upon the bay, And rising in the evening's swell; Then hasten with expiring day, And where we'll fly-no one can tell. R. STARCH.-This is soluble in hot water, but not in cold; an excess of starch in hot water is converted into the gelatinous mass employed by our laund resses. The presence of starch is readily detected by the action of free iodine, which unites with it, and This effect does not follow unless the iodine is free; produces a fine blue colour, being the iodide of starch. as, for instance, the addition of iodine of potassium to a solution of starch produces no change of colour; but if another element, having a greater affinity for potassium than iodine has, as chlorine, be added to the above mixture, a chloride of potassium is formed; and the iodine being set free, unites with the starch and produces the characteristic blue tint; or, which amounts to the same, if such mixture be subjected to and the iodine being liberated is free to combine with voltaic action, the iodide of potassium is decomposed, the starch. Potato starch may be obtained in great abundance by allowing water to stand over the grat ings of potatoes: with little trouble, beyond the requisite washings and filtrations, the article is produced in a tolerably pure condition. HEAT AND LIGHT. That these agencies are physically independent of each other, is clearly shown by the fact that they may be entirely separated even when they come to us in the form of a sunbeam. That they are intimately related, is, however, shown by their obeying the same laws of refraction. Heat, it is true, is less refrangible than light, but it still obeys the laws of sines; and being incident upon a doubly refracting substance, the rays after emergence are found like those of light, to be polarized in planes perpendicular to each other; leaving no doubt that were our organs and our instruments of a construction suitable for their appreciation, all the corresponding phenomena to those of colours in the case of light might be obtained and made sensible. The phenomena of interference have not however been yet observed; but although we have not up to the present time recog nised the actual production of cold by the combined action of two rays of heat, the analogy in other respects is so close that it seems probable in this case that additional observation alone is wanting. Moser's hypothesis of latent light may perhaps be placed in juxta-position with Black's theory of latent heat; for although additional investigation be still required to place it on the same firm basis, the evidence already adduced is of a kind not to be lightly estimated. In the conversion of calorific rays of one degree of refrangibility into those of other degrees, we, how ever, recognise a case to which the phenomena of light furnish no parallel; for we have never known red light converted into blue, or violet into orange. TURKISH CUSTOMS. The Turks never improve anything. The distinction between them and the Europeans is, that the latter think of convenience, the former only of luxuries. The Turks, for example, build handmarble fountains to cool them in marble halls; some pavilions, plant showy gardens, and erect but they never mend a high road—they never even make one. Now and then a bridge is forced on them by the necessity of having one, or being drowned; but they never repair that bridge, nor sweep away the accumulated abomination of their streets, nor do anything that it is possible to leave undone. Pera is the quarter in which all the Christians, between it and Constantinople is of course perpeeven of the highest rank, live: the intercourse tual; yet, perhaps, a stone has not been smoothed in the road since the siege of the city. One extraordinary circumstance strikes the stranger, that but one sex seems to exist. The dress of the women gives no idea of the female form, and the whole population seems to be male. The masses of the people are dense, and among them the utmost silence in general prevails. About seven or eight at night the streets are cleared, and their only tenants are whole hosts of growling, hideous dogs, or a few Turks gliding about with' paper lanterns: these, too, being the only lights in the streets, if streets they are to be called, which are only narrow passes, through which the NERVOUS TEMPERAMENT.-This is a sort of aris-vehicles can scarcely move. During the Ramazan tocratic constitution, consequent upon civilization, the no Turk eats, drinks, or even smokes from sun-ris refinements, the excitements of the higher walk of life-the offspring of the ball-room and the boudoir, to sun-set. The moment the sun goes down, the as well as of the inevitable wear and tear of the Turk rushes to his meal and his pipe, noteatinge system, which must be suffered when wealth, fame, but devouring, not inhaling but wallowing in and distinction are to be purchased by the "sweat of smoke. At the Bajazet colonnade, where the printhe brain" and the anxious throbbing of the heart. cipal Turks rush to enjoy the night, the lighted Richeran says that Tronchin, a Genevese physician, coffee-houses, the varieties of costume, the eager acquired great wealth and reputation by the treat- crowd, and the illumination of myriads of paper ment of nervous affections. His whole secret con- lanterns, makes a scene that revives the memory of sisted in exercising to fatigue women habitually Oriental tales. Everything in Turkey is unlike inactive, keeping up their strength at the same time, by simple, healthy, and plentiful food.-Hayden's the rapid sale and dismissal in our places of traffic, anything in Europe. In the bazaar, instead of Physiology. the Turkish dealer, in any case of value, invites his applicant into his shop, makes him sit down, gives him a pipe, smokes him into familiarityhands him a cup of coffee, and drinks him into confidence in short, treats him as if they were a pair of ambassadors appointed to dine and bribe each other-converses with and cheats him.Lord Londonderry's Tour. HAPPY HOME! HAPPY HOME! Tho' thy hills recede in view, Still my heart shall live with you. Merry scenes of childhood, Tho' thy hills recede in view, Still my heart shall live with you. Bears me back again to thee, Shall be welcome, aye, to me; While I gather flowers; I'll not roam, I'll not roam, But shall ever rest with thee. F. : ORIGIN OF MILITARY UNIFORMS IN ASIA.-The first trace of uniforms being adopted by particular corps or regiments in Asia may be found on the occasion of a general review of the Tartar troops by their renowned Emperor, Timour, a short time previous to the commencement of the memorable campaign in which Bajazei-Ildirim, the Ottoman sovereign, was taken prisoner. Mohammed Sultan, Timour's favourite grandson, arrayed his troops in uniforms for that solemn occasion, and received the felicitations of Timour upon the idea, which was shortly afterwards adopted with respect to the other portions of the army. Some squadrons of cavalry has red standards, saddles, scarfs, quivers, shields, and garments; and others yellow. A few were clad in white uniforms; and two regiments wore coats of mail and curiasses. STANZAS ON VISITING KING WILLIAMSTOWN IN 1838. I saw thy site-No living sound was there Harsh screamed his signal from the frozen cloud, The belted leader of the Rockite clan, I saw along the dark and dreary wold, Where high O'Keefe once held his ancient sway, The wretched peasant dig the barren mould Fair science gleam'd not o'er his darkling wayWhere spring could scarce produce a sheltering leaf, "And half an acre's corn was half a sheaf." Saw on the deep morass the hovels vile, Where sights obscene sent forth the putrid reek; Their habitants, in respite from their toil, The heathy couch on dnng-strewn floors did seek, The care-worn slaves, since reason's earliest prime, Of middlemen-green Erin's curse and crime. In other days, an older eye hath seen The grey wolves prowl along thy path for prey, And warrior-men yclad in battle sheen, Mayhap as wild, but fiercer far than theyThe tall and dark-ey'd clansmen who awoke, At Desmond's call, to burst the Saxon yoke. Had seen the kirtled clan O'Keefe had sent Along thy moor to yonder mist-wrapt mount, Yet nam'd from Desmond's host-encompass'd tent, That crown'd its brow at broad Blackwater's fount The In the centre of a wide mountain tract, extending far into the adjacent counties of Cork, Kerry, and Limerick, rises the new village of King Williamstown, on the bank of the Blackwater, and near the source of that beautiful stream. lands of Pobble O'Keefe being vested in the Crown, and the lease by which they were held having expired, Mr. Weale, a principal officer in the department of Woods and Forests, was sent over in 1828 to sell them. At that time the primitive and simple people of the district lived in hamlets, consisting each of six or eight mud-built cabins; they had neither cart nor plough, nor any instrument of husbandry, save a small illfashioned spade, and burdens were usually conveyed on sliding-cars across the wide undulating moors. Mr. Weale, feeling the cruelty of consigning the population to rapacious land-jobbers, in his report to the commissioners, suggested the propriety of retaining the people under the immediate protection of the government, of improving the district, and building a new town as a centre, whence a knowledge of husbandry and other arts should diverge, and which might be a depot of merchandize for the supply of the circumjacent country. These, with various other suggestions of that benevolent gentleman, were put into operation; and in 1838, when the writer visited this interesting place, the new village of King Williamstown contained a respectable inn, a very handsome schoolhouse, besides ranges of buildings occupied by joiners, smiths, shoemakers, &c. Near the town is a model farm-house, with commodious offices. The long-hair'd warriors tall who vainly fought, Salutes the sight, as though some wizard's wand Fair mansions rise, where lords were proud to dwell, And many a dew-gemm'd flower, bright summer's child, Could feast the bee that sipt the heather wild. Where swept the cold blast o'er the marshy moor, And by Blackwater's bank twines many a bower Where famine stalk'd, gay plenty smiles around, On every side along the wide champaign Flee the vile hovels-rise the mansions fair; And sounds of joy from labour's happy train Prevail where once were cursings of despair! The men whose fathers curs'd the Saxon name EDWARD WALSH. Mr. Johnson, the comedian, long a favourite on the Dublin stage, died at Kingstown on the 12th February 1843, and was interred in Mount-Jerome cemetery. Mrs. Wood, the vocalist, has, it is stated, been placed by her husband in the "retreat" at Yorkan establishment set apart for persons afflicted with aberration of mind. Mr. Horncastle is giving lectures in Dublin on the music and songs of Ireland. The Irish Art Union have presented to the Royal Dublin Society a cast of Mr. Panormo's group of the "Young Protector." ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. "A Traveller."-We regret being compelled to decline inserting the tale; it is not suitable to our pages. Our Thurles correspondent shall be attended to. "S. E."-Send the papers for perusal. "T. N." and "W." declined. Several communications shall receive due attention in our next publication. Printed for the Proprietors, at the Office, 32, Lower Sackville-street, Dublin, where all communications (post-paid) are to be addressed, to the Editor. Published by T. LE MESSURIER, (late T. TRGG and Co.) 8, Lr. Abbey-street, Dublin; and all Booksellers. THE DUBLIN JOURNAL OF TEMPERANCE, SCIENCE, AND LITERATURE. No. 18.-VOL. II. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY. A TALE OF DURROW ABBEY. "It is the voice of years that are gone-they roll before me in their deeds."— Ossian. Durrow would appear to have been one of the most ancient of the religious establishments of Ireland, and to have existed as the abode of recluse piety at a period not very long subsequent to the introduction of Christianity into that country. Its connexion with St. Columb, or Columbkill, the saint of the Orknies, would seem to be vouched for by the old cross still existant within its precincts, which is a curious piece of antique sculpture, yet known to the peasantry of the neighbourhood as Columbkill's cross. Tradition adds many circumstances well calculated to strengthen the opinion, that Dervagh, or Durrow, was one of the most eminent of those endowments that at a remote period were the retreats of those who sought, by seclusion from the world, to make their way to heaven. But, though founded by St. Columbkill, it was not for many years after, on its size being augmented, that a portion of it was allocated to the reception of nuns-Aed M'Brenaynn, king of Teaffid, having been one of its benefactors, and having increased for that purpose the endowments by which it had been previously distinguished. Two or three centuries after his death our story takes its rise. At that time the female portion of the institution was under the superintendence of the abbess Bridget, who, descended from king Aed M'Brenaynn, had herself been a great benefactor to the abbey, and under whose mild and dignified controul its inmates had augmented and its celebrity increased. While she was abbess, there lived on the borders of Munster a chieftain, who was her near relative, and with whom—some said, in consequence of an attachment which existed between them early in life, and which had been thwarted by their parents; more probably on account of his being less rude and ferocious than most chiefs at that period-she lived on terms of closer intimacy than she did with any of her other relatives, since she had retired from the world. This chieftain, by name Fergus M'Brenaynn, was a PRICE 1d. widower, with two daughters, celebrated for their beauty. He married early in life a lady, to whom he had been much attached, but was doomed, a few years after their union, to weep over her grave! As it is not uncommon, under such circumstances, bereaved of the mother, his attachment to the daughters increased to a degree almost childish.. On them he lavished all the affection that, if she had lived, he would have reserved for her in them he saw her revived; and, as they advanced from infancy to girlhood, and from girlhood to woman's more attractive charms, the older they grew, the more he thought he saw developed in them the beauty of their mother, especially in Bernicia, the younger, who was called after her Deira appearing to him to resemble her more in disposition than in beauty; indeed, they were both very beautiful girls, highly adorned by nature; and it was much to their praise, considering the bereavement they had sustained, and the fond idolatry of their remaining parent, that their conduct was in every respect irreproachable, and apparently characterised by wisdom beyond their years. The family of M'Brenaynn had been early converts to Christianity. Of all those who had listened early and attentively to the preachings of Patrick, none had listened earlier or more attentively than they had; and, though centuries had elapsed since the existence of that missionary, none remained more steadfast in their adherence to what they had learned. It has been observed that Fergus M'Brenaynn was related to the abbess of Durrow. This circumstance, even if there had been a tendency to indifference in the family, would of course have helped to suppress it; but, even without this, there seems no reason to suppose the faith of the M'Brenaynn family would have been feeble or wavering. It seems probable, however, that this circumstance tended to increase the zeal of Fergus, who was much more of a devotee than any of his forefathers had been, and was most assiduous in his endeavours to instil an equal portion of devotedness into his daughters; and so far succeeded, as to rear them up in abhorrence of |