THE MAID OF MOURNE.

[The following tale is extracted from an unpublished M.S., in which it forms an episode. The raconteur is a blind and aged harper; and his listener a fair girl, the heroine of the story. The scene is laid in Mourne, and the time nearly half a century since:]

THE BLIND HARPER'S STORY.

My earliest recollections waft me to that beautiful and romantic part of Antrim, near the sea coast, known by the name of "The Glens." My father's house was a plain, dreary-looking, stone edifice, with no beauty about it, save what it derived from the situation. It stood far from any leading road or other place of public resort, and was, in fact, as solitary as you can imagine. This very solitude was to me its chief attraction, and I loved from my earliest days to wander, from daydawn to sun-set, in the shady retreats of craig and wood which surrounded our house on every side. There, seated on a rock or stone, covered with mosses and wild plants, of varied hues, I used to recline for hours together, listening to the soft cooing of the cushat-dove and carrolings of the "curious chaunters of the woods," or watching the fleecy clouds as they gently floated across the blue arch of heaven. In the study of nature, in all her wild charms, I found constant delight. My mind was delighted by the peace of the warm summer day, and the gladness of all God's creatures was pleasant to my eyes; but the "pelting of the pitiless storm" equally enchained me, and I could stand for hours watching the wild raging of the tempest. Often, at such times, I would repair to the cliffs which guard our coast, and survey, with awe and admiration, the fury of the bursting billows, no where to be seen in greater splendour. There have I stood, till the waves, lashed to madness and chafening at restraint, came wildly bounding up the face of the perpendicular rock, urging in impetuous course their bulky forms up nearly half the height, to retire with a thundering roar of baffled and impotent rage. There is, perhaps, nothing which impresses us with so grand an idea of the magnificence of God's power as the unbridled raging of many waters.

My father was the owner of a small property, the remains of a once ample estate: it had dwindled down under the mortgages and hospitality of his ancestors, until the occupier, having no other means of support, could be termed little better than a farmer; still he kept up the same pride of family as if he were lord and owner of Clan-bwee; and if he seldom saw any equals at his house, he still less frequently saw any inferiors. In fact, he would associate with no one; and, although esteemed an honourable and upright man, he was by no means popular. We can easily pass over pride in the affluent, but cannot bear it in the needy yet the poor, when well born, have it in greater plenty, and certainly much more need of it. Into how many temptations are such thrown, and what have they for an ægis of protection, save pride?

About two miles from my father's house lived his only surviving relative, a widowed sister, who had in early life married a gentleman of a poor but

honourable race, which had, at the last plantation of Ulster, come from Scotland to settle in the Black North-a change not so advantageous to found it worth while to assume the moveo et prothem as to some others it has been: they never pitior of more talented immigrants. My aunt's husband did not live long to enjoy their union: a few years and he "slept with the rude fore. fathers of the hamlet," leaving an only daughter to the care of his mourning widow. My aunt lived in great retirement, engaged in the education of her daughter; and the dawning beauties of her beloved child brought her more pleasure, and promised more comfort to her declining years, than mest mothers are blessed withal. Many maidens seem in all things good and beautiful to the warmth of mother-love, or parental instinct— which you will; but my gentle cousin, Lucy Campbell, was one, whom to see, was to lovewith me, to worship, to adore. Even now, when Time has, in his many warnings-the white hair, the shaking hand, and the feeble step-too plainly told me that my sand is nearly run-even now, I fondly retrace, on memory's glass, her exquisitely graceful form; and her gentle voice, like the soft murmuring of the summer breeze when it sighs at evening, stealing from the west over the sweet hawthorn blown, yet rises on my ear, and can, for the moment, drown the harsh sounds of many years' buffeting with the rude and cold world. She seemed to me as if music, hope, poetry, love, virtue, beauty, and spring, had all joined to form a being such as the world never before saw, and crowning their chef dœuvre, gave it the form of woman. We had from our earliest days considered each other as brother and sister, until ripening years taught me that a sister could not be thought on with that love with which I felt my every word and thought towards her to be pervaded; and, before I arrived at the age of sixteen, I felt that I loved her with a mad worship life alone could end.

It was about this time that my father intimated to me in his usual cold, yet not harsh, manner that he and his sister had agreed that, in case my cousin and I made no objection, we should have their consent to a union, and a blessing added thereto. My father at the same time entered into a detailed account of his means, a thing he had never previously condescended to do. He told me that he would also give me half his landed property, in which, he said, I might, with what the lady would bring me, live at least comfortably until his death, when all he had would be mine. I rather imagine my father's reasons for promoting this marriage, had they been analysed, were more to keep me from an improper or foolish match than to advance my happiness. He had the utmost dread of marrying a Sassenagh, as he invariably termed the English; and, had I done so, he would, I doubt not, have for ever renounced me. He was a very cold-tempered man, at times almost harsh; nevertheless, I am sure he loved me in his heart, though he seldom showed it. Yet there was an excuse for this: his misfortunes, his poverty, and his lowered standing in the land had soured a mind naturally open and noble, and succeeding years brought him nearer that most miserable of all the various states of the human

mind, misanthropy. He lived almost entirely at home, seldom seeing any one except his farm servants. During the day, he and I rarely met, save at meal times. He sat, seldom leaving it, in his study, reading for the most part such books as related to Ireland; or he would pour over for hours his genealogical tree, which went back many a long year before the Christian era-this was a subject of never-dying interest; beside this, he was a very good astronomer and mathematician in general, as well as a poet, and a musician of no common order, whether as a performer or composer. He played the harp in a style I have never heard exceeded, and from him I first learned to awaken the Clairslech with our melodies. With these accomplishments for companions, it is not so very singular that he lived so retired; but it was not the less a pity that he should, with so many powers of pleasing, have so completely secluded himself from all society. I, on the contrary, was absent the better part of each day from home; if my cousin Lucy was at home, I was at Carrig Dhu-so their place was called; if she was not, I was to be found in some part, the more retired the better, of our beautiful glens, generally with my harp as a companion.

I loathed restraint, and in the glen I was free as the hare or the blue hawk; I was also, probably, nearly as wild and as ignorant of my fellow men and the ways of the world. Early seclusion, and total want of society, made me excessively shy and awkward in company, which I never saw except at Carrig Dhu. I was, in fact, a complete child of nature, and this wild life much increased the natural ardour of my passions and feelings. I was of the most violent temperament that, I believe. ever animated the soul of one of my countrymen. Thus it was with me-my every feeling was a violent passion, my friendship was love, my dislike hatred, my excitement was madness, and my calm was gloominess, almost stupor; but my worst, and perhaps strongest passion was jealousy; it was easily excited, and, once raised, knew no limit or restraint. I could not even bear to see one of my dumb favourites fawn on another, and this rage often brought me into the most disagreeable situations. I need scarcely say, that reflection brought sorrow; but I was the victim of impulse, and repentance is ever the bitter spirit

attendant on such.

But love is the true and, generally, only parent of jealousy; and when we cease to feel jealous of the attentions of those we love to others, it is a certain sign we utterly cease to love them. Love, no matter what it is for, admits of no rivalry. "First or nowhere," is a gallant motto, and is especially borne by lovers--it was mine while I had any interest in such matters; but it is very many years since I ceased to wish for, or rather to think I could obtain, a place in the affections of any one. In fact, I was not formed to gain love or friendship, and here I am with my time-silvered locks without a single heart in the whole land to claim more than common acquaintance with. Do not think me ungrateful for kindnesses. I have met numbers ready and willing to act as patrons and generous benefactors; but that ill supports the part of friendship. Still I need not now repine, my sands are few, and fast

running their onward course. But I wander sadly from my poor story, and I must now tell you how my love for my gentle and winning cousin Lucy fared. Ere I proceed, let me attempt, as far as language will, to describe some of her more conspicuous charms; to tell all, were beyond the art of words. Lucy was at this time about sixteen years; I not two years older. Sixteen! that sweet age when, in the gentle sex, the person partakes largely of the beauty of riper years, while the mind has yet to be ruined by the coarser and more rude experiences of life: it is, in sooth, the golden mean. She was rather under the usual size of women, but so exquisitely rounded, so faultlessly formed in face and figure, that no eye could find a single point capable of improvement. Her complexion was fair, yet blooming; her hair was a dark and glossy brown, falling in a thousand careless ringlets over a neck and bust which might have shamed the Parian stone; her hazle eye, soft as starlight on the sleeping waters of the ocean, was equally formed to beam with love, or moisten in compassion for suffering; her nose was slightly aquiline, and her mouth baffled all praise-to say that it was expressive of all excellent qualities that ever adorned woman, and that in shape and proportion it was faultless, is to say much; yet it comes short of the whole truth? all this beauty was but the precious setting of a priceless jewel!

Of my cousin Lucy's feelings towards me it was difficult in the extreme to judge. She was young and inexperienced, and having been always accustomed to see me near her, and paying such attentions as my rustic education pointed out to me, she naturally gave me many marks of favour, which I, being young and in love, magnified into intended encouragement. She had, in fact, been too much secluded to form a correct opinion or just measure of her heart towards me; she had seen but few young men from whom to draw a comparison. Society in our part of the country was very limited, and although my aunt received at her house all the best which were attainable, yet it so happened that there were very few young persons of our own standing, and those few were, for the most part, ladies.

The gentlemen in general were rather rough creatures, younger sons of petty squires and ministers, in whose company I certainly was able to take a good place, if not the first. I was very well educated by my father and our good priest in the general run of learning, such as the classics, modern languages, a little science, and some painting; but music was my forte. At the age of fifteen I played on the harp in a style my friends were pleased to call very superior. This was wholly owing to my father's instructions, who was indefatigable in instilling into my head and fingers a complete knowledge of our far-famed native instrument. Thus it was that I shone above the generality of my compeers, and kept, for a time, a high place in my sweet cousin's opinion.

I, indeed, gave her little time to think of others. I was constantly by her side. Walk where she would, I met her; or if she remained at home, there too was I. Seated beside her, the hours flew rapidly on the wings of intense joy. The book or the pencil formed a continual source of employment, and when she would tire of these, I

your company so far, we can make it easier for you."

While I was speaking, he eyed me intently; and, when I ceased, said, with a smile

"I think I should know your face; am I not speaking to Willie O'Neil ?”

"You certainly are," I replied; "but I cannot say I have the pleasure of knowing you."

He laughed, and, holding out his hand, or rather seizing mine, said

"Have you quite forgotten your old companion in many a frolic, Frank M'Donald?"

I recognised at once in him an old friend, the best and, indeed, the sole playmate of my earlier days. I was rejoiced to meet him, as I had never ceased to think of him with sentiments of friendship. It was almost ten years since we had parted, on his going to join a ship to which he was appointed a midshipman, under an old friend of his uncle and guardian, Mr. Stuart, whom he had mentioned.

This, as I learned, was his first visit to Ireland since he went to sea; and he came back loaded with honors, on leave of absence for three months, to recover from a severe wound in the left arm, received in action with a French cruiser, for his conduct in which he had been promoted to be first lieutenant.

This short sketch of my friend M'Donald must suffice for the present, and we will retrace our steps to where Lucy and I were left talking to the handsome young hero.

I introduced him at once to my beautiful cousin, whom he had seen as a child, and to whom he addressed some very pretty compliment-doing it, however, in a manner such as could not offend or alarm the most timid reserve, However, it by no means pleased me; the less that it was evidently very well received by my cousin. I do not mean

God

to say that she was, in the least, a coquette. forbid! But women seldom go deeper than the outside appearances of things, and would in general rather hear soft and well-spoken nonsense than plain words of less pleasing but more honest truth; also, they would mostly prefer one compliment from a stranger than half-a-dozen from an old friend. My sweet Lucy was, perhaps, not so bad as all this; but, still, women are-women. I know not how else to express the idea. Even had she been such, she had as good, or better, an excuse than many: for a more pleasing and winning person than Frank could not easily be

found.

The next day, at an early hour, I was sitting at my aunt's with Lucy, drinking deeply of that most hurtful and foolish of all draughts, love. While thus engaged, we beheld Frank coming over the lawn at an impetuous pace, wildly clearing all obstacles with his usual mad ardour. He bounded into the room, and, before we could get out a word, he had seized me by the hands, pouring forth a flood of delight at seeing me and Lucy, and delight at finding himself at home; and, in fact, delight at everything, and with every one. He quite upset my usual grave conduct and manner, that in general led me to think rather than speak, and turned the house and our heads all astray. He was, indeed, wild with spirits; and, but that I scarcely liked the favour he formed with my

cousin, I should have admired him very much; every one else did.

The day wore rapidly away with such a companion; it was passed in one whirl of amusement; we rode and then we walked. After dinner, wo went out again; and, returing, we assembled our little party at close of day. Here music lent her magic influence, and we passed three or four hours in singing and playing. Frank sang extremely well-although in that I need not have feared competition, and still less in playing. He sang with Lucy and by himself, giving an accompaniment to his voice on the guitar to several very pretty little Spanish and Italian airs.

But why should I dwell on the more trifling circumstances of this ill-starred story?—why prolong the final close of a drama whose every act was folly? And, if the first scenes were as they truly were-bliss, too exquisite for sinful mortals; still the last of those short-lived scenes were nothing short of actual agony, misery, and almost madness. INNISFAIL.

(To be concluded in our next.)

ΤΟ

As the sunflower bends to the planet of day, And seeks at his rising the earliest ray; So tuneth this heart, my beloved, to thee, And the smiles of thine eye are as sunbeams to me. Thy presence dispels every vestige of pain, And no traces of gloom in my bosom remain; But as quickly again when thou'rt passed from my sight Doth my soul become shaded in darkness and night. And heedless I view all the beauties that shine, For their charms appear but reflections of thine; Then I silently droop, and in sadness I mourn For the day-break of joy which awaits thy return. Phibsboro', March, 1843. M. J. R.

MONETARY SYSTEM OF THE UNITED STATES.

At the custom-house and post office, one dollar is ling. One cent is the hundreth of a dollar, and equal estimated equal to four shillings and two pence sterto one half-penny sterling. These are the legal rates of exchange; but in ordinary business transactions, in most of the states, the comparative value of sovereigns is as changeable as the weather. The currency is bills issued by private individuals, companies, cities, and states, all of which are at a discount vary. ing from 10 to 50 per cent.! In some of the states they issue bank notes for as small sums as three pence sterling, and in all of them the bills are as low as one dollar. And these do not pass out of the state, or frequently out of the city, in which they are issued. Some of these bills promise to pay (?) in specie ; some are issued, promising to be received in payment of debts due to said company; some promise to be paid on demand in currrent bank notes, which are as bad as their own; some bear a promise to be received in payment of a ride on a railway; all sorts of notessome bearing interest. But all are depreciated below the specie standard. There are some American gold and silver, and some English sovereigns; but these are bought and sold like any other commodity, and not generally used in business, except in small sums for change. The specie is mostly in the hands of money-brokers-a numerous class in every townwho make a very profitable business by dealing in exchanges, buying and selling specie, selling cheques on different parts of the country, to men of business and to travellers.