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depict the evils of that system of anti-Catholic whole of the combustible roof was one mass of flame, tyranny when the penal laws were in full force, shooting up into the serene air in a spire of dazzling by which home education was denied to Catho- brilliancy, mixed with vivid sparks, and relieved against lić families unless by a Protestant teacher. The a background of dark-gray smoke. more rigid of the Catholics abjured all instruc

Sky and earth appeared reddened into common ignition thus administered ; and Mr Banim describes tion with the blaze. The houses around gleamed hotly; the effects of ignorance and neglect on the second the very stones and rocks on the hillside seemed portions son of a Catholic gentleman, haughty, sensi- shoulders were covered with spreading showers of the

of fire; and Shawn-a-Gow's bare head and herculean tive, and painfully alive to the disadvantages ashes of his own roof. and degradation of his condition. The whole His distended eye fixed, too, upon the figures of the account of this family, the D'Arcys, is written with actors in this scene, now rendered fiercely distinct, and great skill and effect. In 1838 Mr Banim col- their scabbards, their buttons, and their polished black lected several of his contributions to periodical helmets, bickering redly in the glow, as, at a command works, and published them under the title of from their captain, they sent up the hillside three shouts The Bit o' Writin', and other Tales. In 1842 he over the demolition of the Croppy's dwelling. But still, sent forth an original and excellent novel, in though his breast heaved, and though wreaths of foam three volumes, Father Connell, the hero being an edged his lips, Shawn was silent; and little Peter now aged and benevolent Catholic priest, not un

feared to address a word to him. And other sights worthy of association with the Protestant Vicar to afford. Rising to a pitch of shrillness that over

and occurrences claimed whatever attention he was able of Wakefield. This primitive pastor becomes mastered the cheers of the yeomen, the cries of a man the patron of a poor vagrant boy, Neddy Fennell, in bodily agony struck on the ears of the listeners on whose adventures furnish the incidents for the the hill, and looking hard towards a spot brilliantly story. This was destined to be the last work of illuminated, they saw Saunders Smyly vigorously the author. He died in August 1842, in the prime engaged in one of his tasks as disciplinarian to the of life, in the neighbourhood of Kilkenny, which Ballybreehoone cavalry. With much ostentation, his also was his birthplace. Mr Banim began life instrument of torture was flourished round his head, as a miniature-painter; but, seduced from his pro- and though at every lash the shrieks of the sufferer came fession by promptings too strong to be resisted, and loud, the lashes themselves were scarce less distinct. by the success of a tragedy, Damon and Pythias, house stood alone in the village. A short distance

A second group challenged the eye. Shawn-a-Gow's he early abandoned art, and adopted literature as a profession; and he will be long remembered before its door was a lime-tree, with benches contrived as the writer of that powerful and painful series the gossipers of the village used to seat themselves.

all round the trunk, upon which, in summer weather, of novels, Tales of the O'Hara Family. Some This tree, standing between our spectators and the years previous, the general sympathy was at- blaze, cut darkly against the glowing objects beyond it ; tracted to Mr Banim's struggle against the suffer- and three or four yeomen, their backs turned to the ing and privation which came in the train of hill, their faces to the burning house, and consequently disease that precluded all literary exertion; and their figures also appearing black, seemed busily occuon that occasion Sir Robert Peel came to the pied in some feat that required the exertion of pulling aid of the distressed author, whose latter years with their hands listed above their heads. Shawn were restored to his native country, and made flashed an inquiring glance upon them, and anon a easy by a yearly pension of £150 from the civil human form, still, like their figures, vague and undelist, to which an addition of £40 a year'was after-fined in blackness, gradually became elevated from

the wards made for the education of his daughter, an ground beneath the tree, until its head almost touched only child.' Besides the works we have mentioned, suspended from that branch.

a projecting branch, and then it remained stationary, Mr Banim wrote Boyne Water, and other poetical

Shawn's rage increased to madness at this sight, pieces ; and he contributed largely to the different though he did not admit it to be immediately connected magazines and annuals. The Tales of the O'Hara with his more individual causes for wrath. And now Family had given him a name that carried general came an event that made a climax, for the present, to attraction to all lovers of light literature; and his emotions, and at length caused some expressions there are few of these short and hasty tales that of his pent-up feelings. A loud crackling crash echoed do not contain some traces of his unrivalled from his house ; a volume of flame, taller and more Irish power and fidelity of delineation. In some dense than any by which it was preceded, darted up respects Mr Banim was a mannerist : his know to the heavens ; then almost former darkness fell on ledge extended over a wide surface of Irish history objects below; and nothing but thick smoke, dotted

the hillside ; a gloomy red glow alone remained on the and of character, under all its modifications ; but with sparks, continued to issue from his dwelling. his style and imagination were confined chiefly to After everything that could interiorly supply food to the same class of subjects, and to a peculiar mode the flame had been devoured, it was the roof of his old of treating them. A Life of Banim, with extracts house that now fell in. from his correspondence--unfolding a life of By the ashes o' my cabin, burnt down before me this constant struggle and exertion—was published night-an' I stannin' a houseless beggar on the hillside in 1857, written by Mr P. J. Murray.

lookin' at id—while I can get an Orangeman's house to take the blaze, an' a wisp to kindle the blaze up, I'll

burn ten houses for that one!' Description of the Burning of a Croppy's House.

And so asseverating, he recrossed the summit of the The smith kept a brooding and gloomy silence ; his hill, and, followed by Peter Rooney, descended into the almost savage yet steadfast glare fastened upon the little valley of refuge. element that, not more raging than his own bosom, devoured his dwelling. Fire had been set to the house

The national character of Ireland was further in many places within and without ; and though at first illustrated by two collections of tales published it crept slowly along the surface of the thatch, or only anonymously, entitled To-day in Ireland, 1825; sent out bursting wreaths of vapour from the interior, or and Yesterday in Ireland, 1829. Though imperthrough the doorway, few minutes elapsed until the fectly acquainted with the art of a novelist, this

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writer is often correct and happy in his descrip-gradual decay of an attachment which was tions and historical summaries. Like Banim, he scarcely based on anything better than sensual has ventured on the stormy period of 1798, and love—the irksomeness of concealment—the goadhas been more minute than his great rival in ings of wounded pride—the suggestions of selfsketching the circumstances of the rebellion.-MR interest, which had been hastily neglected for an EYRE EVANS CROWE, author of a History of object which proves inadequate when gained—all France, and of The English in Italy and France, these combining to produce, first, neglect, and a work of superior merit, was the author of these lastly, aversion, are interestingly and vividly tales.—The Rev. CÆSAR OTWAY, of Dublin, in described.' In 1830 Mr Griffin was again in the his Sketches of Ireland, and his Tour in Con- field with his Irish sketches. Two tales, The naught, &c., has displayed many of the most Rivals, and Tracey's Ambition, were well received, valuable qualities of a novelist, without attempt though improbable in plot and ill arranged in ing the construction of a regular story. His lively incident. The author continued his miscellaneous style and humorous illustrations of the manners labours for the press, and published, besides a of the people render his topographical works very number of contributions to periodicals, another pleasant as well as instructive reading. Mr Otway series of stories, entitled Tales of the Five Senses. was a keen theologian, a determined anti-Catholic, These are not equal to his Munster Tales, but but full of Irish feeling and universal kindliness. are, nevertheless, full of fine Irish description and He died in March 1842.

character, and of that ‘dark and touching power' which Mr Carleton assigns as the distinguishing

excellence of his brother-novelist. GERALD GRIFFIN.

Notwithstanding the early success and growing GERALD GRIFFIN, author of some excellent reputation of Mr Griffin, he soon became tired of Irish tales, was born at Limerick on the 12th of the world, and anxious tó retreat from its toils and December 1803. His first schoolmaster appears its pleasures. He had been educated in the to have been a true Milesian pedant and original, Roman Catholic faith, and one of his sisters had, for one of his advertisements begins, “When about the year 1830, taken the veil. This circumponderous polysyllables promulgate professional stance awakened the poetical and devotional powers !'—and he boasted of being one of three feelings and desires that formed part of his persons in Ireland who knew how to read correctly; character, and he grew daily more anxious to namely, the Bishop of Killaloe, the Earl of Clare, quit the busy world for a life of religious duty and and himself, Mr MacEligot ! Gerald was after service. The following verses, written at this time, wards placed under a private tutor, whence he are expressive of his new enthusiasm : was removed to attend a school at Limerick. While a mere youth, he became connected with Seven dreary winters gone and spent, the Limerick Advertiser newspaper ; but having Seven blooming summers vanished too, written a tragedy, he migrated to London in his Since, on an eager mission bent, twentieth year, with the hope of distinguishing

I left my Irish home and you. himself in literature and the drama. Disappointment very naturally followed, and Gerald betook

How passed those years, I will not say; himself to reporting for the daily press and con

They cannot be by words renewed

God wash their sinful parts away! tributing to the magazines. In 1825 he succeeded

And blest be He for all their good. in getting an operatic melodrama brought out at the English Opera House ; and in 1827 appeared With even mind and tranquil breast his Holland-tide, or Munster Popular Tales, a

I left my youthful sister then, series of short stories, thoroughly Irish, and And now in sweet religious rest evincing powers of observation and description

I see my sister there again. from which much might be anticipated. This fortunate beginning was followed the same year

Returning from that stormy world, by Tales of the Munster Festivals, containing

How pleasing is a sight like this!

To see that bark with canvas furled
Card-drawing, the Half-sir, and Suil Dhuv the
Coiner, three volumes. The nationality of these

Still riding in that port of peace.
tales, and the talent of the author in depicting the
mingled levity and pathos of the Irish character,

Oh, darling of a heart that still,

By earthly joys so deeply trod, rendered them exceedingly popular. His reputa- At moments bids its owner feel tion was still further increased by the publication,

The warmth of nature and of God! in 1829, of The Collegians; a Second Series of Tales of the Munster Festivals, three volumes,

Still be his care in future years which proved to be the most popular of all his

To learn of thee truth's simple way, works, and was thought by many to place Griffin

And free from foundless hopes or fears, as an Irish novelist above Banim and Carleton.

Serenely live, securely pray. Some of the scenes possess a deep and melancholy

And when our Christmas days are past, interest; for, in awakening terror, and painting

And life's vain shadows faint and dim, the sterner passions and their results, Griffin

Oh, be my sister heard at last, displayed the art and power of a master. The

When her pure hands are raised for him! Collegians,' says a writer in the Edinburgh Review,

Christmas, 1830. ' is a very interesting and well-constructed tale, full of incident and passion. It is a history of the His mind, fixed on this subject, still retained clandestine union of a young man of good birth its youthful buoyancy and cheerfulness. He retired and fortune with a girl of far inferior rank, and of from the world in the autumn of 1838, and joined the consequences which too naturally result. The the Christian Brotherhood-whose duty it is to

314

career.

over

instruct the poor-in the monastery at Cork. In of changing the whole destiny of my subsequent the second year of his novitiate he was attacked life.' 'About this time chance threw a copy of Gil with typhus fever, and died on the 12th of June Blas in his way, and his love of adventure was so 1840.

stimulated by its perusal, that he left his native

place, and set off on a visit to a Catholic clergyWILLIAM CARLETON.

man in the county of Louth. He stopped with WILLIAM CARLETON, author of Traits and

him a fortnight, and succeeded in procuring a Stories of the Irish Peasantry, was born at Prillisk, This, however, was a tame life and a hard one, and

tuition in the house of a farmer near Corcreagh. in the parish of Clogher, and county of Tyrone, in Carleton resolved on precipitating himself on the the year 1798. His father was a person in lowly Irish metropolis, with

no other guide than a cerstation-a peasant-but highly and singularly tain strong feeling of vague and shapeless ambigifted. His memory was unusually retentive, and

tion. He entered Dublin with only 2s. 9d. in his as a teller of old tales, legends, and historical anecdotes, he was unrivalled ; and his stock of pocket. From this period we suppose we must

date the commencement of Mr Carleton's literary them was inexhaustible. He spoke the Irish and

In 1830 appeared his Traits and Stories, English languages with nearly equal fluency. His mother was skilled in the native music of the two volumes, published in Dublin, but without the

author's name. The critics were unanimous in country, and possessed the sweetest and most favour of the Irish sketcher. His account of the exquisite of human voices.* She was celebrated northern Irish-the Ulster creachts—was new to for the effect she gave to the Irish cry or the reading public; and the dark mountains and “keene.' 'I have often been present,' says her son, 'when she has “raised the keene"

green vales' of his native Tyrone, of Donegal, and the corpse of some relative or neighbour, and my writers on Ireland.

Derry, had been left untouched by the previous

A Second Series of these readers may judge of the melancholy charm which tales was published by Mr Carleton in 1832, and accompanied this expression of her sympathy, when I assure them that the general clamour was equally well received. In 1839 he sent forth of violent grief was gradually diminished, from the Convicts of Lisnamona, in which the passion

a powerful Irish story, Fardorougha the Miser, or admiration, until it became ultimately hushed, and of avarice is strikingly depicted, without its victim no voice was heard but her own-wailing in being wholly dead to natural tenderness and affecsorrowful but solitary beauty. With such parents

tion. Scenes of broad humour and comic exCarleton could not fail to imbibe the peculiar travagance are interspersed throughout the work. feelings and superstitions of his country. His Two years afterwards (1841) appeared The Fawn humble home was a fitting nursery for Irish genius. His first schoolmaster was a Connaught three volúmes. There is more of pathetic com

of Spring Vale, the Clarionet, and other Tales, man, named Pat Frayne, the prototype of Mat Kavanagh in The Hedge School. He also received position in this collection than in the former; but some instruction from a classical teacher, a

one genial, light-hearted, humorous story, The tyrannical blockhead' who settled in the neighdigious favourite. In 1845 Mr Carleton published

Misfortunes of Barney Branagan, was a probourhood; and it was afterwards agreed to send another Irish novel, Valentine M'Clutchy; in 1846, him to Munster

, as a poor scholar, to complete his Rody the Rover; in 1847, The Black, Prophet; in education. In some cases a collection is made to 1849, The Tithe Proctor; in 1855, Willy Reilly; and provide an outfit for the youth thus leaving home; in 1860, The Evil Eye. A pension of £200 was but Carleton's own family supplied the funds sup-settled upon the Irish novelist. He died January posed to be necessary. The circumstances attending his departure, Carleton has related in his 30, 1869. The great merit of Mr Carleton is the

truth of his delineations and the apparent artlessfine tale, The Poor Scholar. As he journeyed

ness of his stories. If he has not the passionate slowly along the road, his superstitious fears got the better of his ambition to be a scholar, and energy or, as he himself has termed it, the stopping for the night at a small inn by the Banim, he has not his party prejudices or bitter

melancholy but indignant reclamations'-of John way, a disagreeable dream determined the homesick lad to return to his father's cottage. His estimate of the character of his countrymen, and

He seems to have formed a fair and just affectionate parents were equally joyed to receive to have drawn it as it actually appeared to him at him; and Carleton seems to have done little home and abroad—in feud and in festival-in the for some years but join in the sports and various scenes which passed before him in his pastimes of the people, and attend every wake, native district and during his subsequent rambles. dance, fair, and merrymaking in the neigh-The lower Irish, he justly remarks, were, until a bourhood. In his seventeenth year he went to assist a distant relative, a priest, who had opened and gross neglect

by the only class to whom they

comparatively recent period, treated with apathy a classical school near Glasslough, county of could or ought to look up for sympathy or protec, Monaghan, where he remained two years. A tion. Hence those deep-rooted prejudices and pilgrimage to the far-famed Lough Derg, or St fearful crimes which stain the history of a people Patrick's Purgatory, excited his imagination ; and

remarkable for their social and domestic virtues. the description of that performance, some years "In domestic life,' says Mr Carleton, “there is no afterwards, ‘not only,' he says, 'constituted my début in literature, but was also the means of pre- I the Irishman. The national imagination is active,

man so exquisitely affectionate and humanised as venting me from being a pleasant, strong-bodied and the national heart warm, and it follows very parish priest at this day; indeed it was the cause naturally that he should be, and is, tender and

strong in all his domestic relations. Unlike the These particulars concerning the personal history of the novelist people of other nations, his grief is loud but lasting; and Stories,

vehement, but deep; and whilst its shadow has

ness.

are

315

been chequered by the laughter and mirth of a for what purpose you would yourself perfectly understand cheerful disposition, still, in the moments of closely, but not knowingly applied to your nostrils. seclusion, at his bed-side prayer, or over the grave But, independently of this, you would be apt to have other of those he loved, it will put itself forth, after half reasons for giving your horse, whose heels are by this a life, with a vivid power of recollection which is time surrounded by a dozen of barking curs, and the sometimes almost beyond belief. A people thus same number of shouting urchins, a pretty sharp touch cast in extremes-melancholy and humorous

of the spurs, as well as for complaining bitterly of the passionate in affection and in hatred-cherishing figures ; and you might notice—if you are, as I suppose

odour of the atmosphere. It is no landscape without the old language, traditions, and recollections you to be, a man of observation—in every sink, as you of their country-their wild music, poetry, and pass along, a 'slip of a pig' stretched in the middle of customs-ready either for good or for evil-such the mud, the very beau-idéal of luxury, giving occasiona people certainly affords the novelist abundant ally a long luxuriant grunt, highly expressive of his enmaterials for his fictions. The field is ample, and joyment ; or perhaps an old farrower, lying in indolent it has been richly cultivated.

repose, with half-a-dozen young ones jostling each other

for their draught, and punching her belly with their Picture of an Irish Village and School-house.

little snouts, reckless of the fumes they are creating ;

whilst the loud crow of the cock, as he confidently flaps The village of Findramore was situated at the foot of his wings on his own dunghill, gives the warning note a long green hill, the outline of which formed a low for the hour of dinner. arch, as it rose to the eye against the horizon. This As you advance, you will also perceive several faces hill was studded with clumps of beeches, and sometimes thrust out of the doors, and rather than miss a sight of inclosed as a meadow. In the month of July, when the you, a grotesque visage peeping by a short-cut through grass on it was long, many an hour have I spent in the paneless windows, or a tattered female flying to solitary enjoyment, watching the wavy motion produced snatch up her urchin that has been tumbling itself heels upon its pliant surface by the sunny winds, or the flight up in the dust of the road, lest the gintleman's horse of the cloud-shadows, like gigantic phantoms, as they might ride over it ; ' and if you happen to look behind, swept rapidly over it, whilst the murmur of the rocking you may observe a shaggy-headed youth in tattered trees, and the glancing of their bright leaves in the sun, frieze, with one hand thrust indolently in his breast, produced a heartfelt pleasure, the very memory of which standing at the door in conversation with the inmates, a rises in my imagination like some fading recollection of broad grin of sarcastic ridicule on his face, in the act of a brighter world.

breaking a joke or two upon yourself or your horse; or At the foot of this hill ran a clear deep-banked river, perhaps your jaw may be saluted with a lump of clay, bounded on one side by a slip of rich level meadow, and just hard enough not to fall asunder as it flies, cast by on the other by a kind of common for the village geese, some ragged gorgoon from behind a hedge, who squats whose white feathers during the summer season lay himself in a ridge of corn to avoid detection. scattered over its green surface. It was also the play- Seated upon a hob at the door, you may observe a ground for the boys of the village school ; for there ran toilworn man without coat or waistcoat, his red muscuthat part of the river which, with very correct judgment, lar sunburnt shoulder peering through the remnant the urchins had selected as their bathing-place. A little of a shirt, mending his shoes with a piece of twisted slope or watering-ground in the bank brought them to flax, called a lingel, or perhaps sewing two footless the edge of the stream, where the bottom fell away into stockings, or martyeens, to his coat, as a substitute for the fearful depths of the whirlpool under the hanging sleeves. oak on the other bank. Well do I remember the first In the gardens, which are usually fringed with nettles, time I ventured to swim across it, and even yet do I you will see a solitary labourer, working with that caresee in imagination the two bunches of water-flagons on lessness and apathy that characterise an Irishman when which the inexperienced swimmers trusted themselves in he labours for himself, leaning upon his spade to look the water.

after you, and glad of any excuse to be idle. About two hundred yards above this, the boreen (little The houses, however, are not all such as I have road) which led from the village to the main road crossed described-far from it. You see here and there, between the river by one of those old narrow bridges whose the more humble cabins, a stout comfortable-looking arches rise like round ditches across the road—an almost farmhouse with ornamental thatching and well-glazed impassable barrier to horse and car. On passing the windows; adjoining to which is a hay-yard with five or bridge in a northern direction, you found a range of low six large stacks of corn, well trimmed and roped, and a thatched houses on each side of the road; and if one fine yellow weather-beaten old hay-rick, half-cut-not o'clock, the hour of dinner, drew near, you might taking into account twelve or thirteen circular strata of observe columns of blue smoke curling up from a row of stones that mark out the foundations on which others chimneys, some made of wicker-creels plastered over had been raised. Neither is the rich smell of oaten or with a rich coat of mud, some of old narrow bottomless wheaten bread, which the good-wife is baking on the tubs, and others, with a greater appearance of taste, griddle, unpleasant to your nostrils ; nor would the ornamented with thick circular ropes of straw sewed bubbling of a large pot, in which you might see, should together like bees' skeps with the peel of a brier ; and you chance to enter, a prodigious square of fat, yellow, many having nothing but the open vent above. But the and almost transparent bacon tumbling about, be an smoke by no means escaped by its legitimate aperture, unpleasant object; truly, as it hangs over a large fire, for you might observe little clouds of it bursting out of with well-swept hearthstone, it is in good keeping with the doors and windows; the panes of the latter, being the white settle and chairs, and the dresser with noggins, mostly stopped at other times with old hats and rags, wooden trenchers, and pewter dishes, perfectly clean, were now left entirely open for the purpose of giving it and as well polished as a French courtier. a free escape.

As you leave the village, you have, to the left, a view Before the doors, on right and left, was a series of of the hill which I have already described, and, to the dunghills, each with its concomitant sink of green, rotten right, a level expanse of fertile country, bounded by a water; and if it happened that a stout-looking woman good view of respectable mountains peering decently with watery eyes, and a yellow cap hung loosely upon into the sky; and in a line that forms an acute angle her matted locks, came, with a chubby urchin on one from the point of the road where you ride, is a delightarm and a pot of dirty water in her hand, its uncere ful valley, in the bottom of which shines a pretty lake; monious ejection in the aforesaid sink would be apt to and a little beyond, on the slope of a green hill, rises a send you up the village with your finger and thumb- splendid house, surrounded by a park, well wooded and

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stocked with deer. You have now topped the little hill a lottery-prize of £20,000—but he squandered it above the village, and a straight line of level road, a in folly and extravagance, and was latterly supmile long, goes forward to a country town which lies ported by the pen of his daughter. immediately behind that white church with its spire young, she published a volume of miscellaneous cutting into the sky before you. You descend on the poems, and a metrical tale in the style of Scott, other side, and having advanced a few perches, look to entitled Christine, the Maid of the South Seas, the left, where you see a long thatched chapel, only founded on the discovery of the mutineers of the distinguished from a dwelling-house by its want of chimneys, and a small stone cross that stands on the Bounty. In 1823 was produced her effective and top of the eastern gable ; behind it is a grave-yard, and striking tragedy of Julian, dedicated to Mr beside it a snug public-house, well whitewashed; then, Macready the actor, ‘for the zeal with which he to the right, you observe a door apparently in the side befriended the production of a stranger, for the of a clay bank, which rises considerably above the judicious alterations which he suggested, and for pavement of the road. What ! you ask yourself

, can the energy, the pathos, and the skill with which this be a human habitation? But ere you have time to he more than embodied its principal character.' answer the question, a confused buzz of voices from Next year Miss Mitford published the first volume within reaches your ear, and the appearance of a little of Our Village, Sketches of Rural Character and gorsoon, with a red close-cropped head and Milesian Scenery, to which four other volumes were subseface, having in his hand a short white stick, or the thigh-quently added, the fifth and last in 1832. “Every

Our pass' of a village school, gives you the full information. one,' says a lively writer,* ‘now knows He has an inkhorn, covered with leather, dangling at Village, and every one knows that the nooks and the button-hole (for he has long since played away the corners, the haunts and the copses so delightfully buttons) of his frieze jacket—his mouth is circumscribed described in its pages, will be found in the imwith a streak of ink-his pen is stuck knowingly behind mediate neighbourhood of Reading, and more his ear-his shins are dotted over with fire-blisters, especially around Three-Mile Cross, a cluster of black, red, and blue—on each heel a kibe-his leather cottages on the Basingstoke Road, in one of crackers '—videlicet, breeches-shrunk up upon him, which our authoress resided for many years. and only reaching as far down as the caps of his knees. But so little were the peculiar and original exHaving spied you, he places his hand over his brows, cellence of her descriptions understood, in the to throw back the dazzling light of the sun, and peers first instance, that, after having gone the round of at you from under it, till he breaks out into a laugh, rejection through the more important periodicals, exclaiming, half to himself, half to you : "You a gintleman !--no, nor one of your breed never tion than the Lady's Magazine. But the series

they at last saw the light in no worthier publicawas, you procthorin' thief you !'

You are now immediately opposite the door of the of rural pictures grew, and the venture of collectseminary, when half-a-dozen of those seated next it ing them into a separate volume was tried. The

public began to relish the style, so fresh, yet so Oh, sir, here's a gintleman on a horse !-masther, finished-to enjoy the delicate humour and the sir, here's a gintieman on a horse, wid boots and spurs simple pathos of the tales ; and the result was, on him, that's looking in at us.'

that the popularity of these sketches outgrew that *Silence ! exclaims the master ; back from the of the works of loftier order proceeding from the door-boys, rehearse—every one of you rehearse, I say, same pen ; that young writers, English and you Bæotians, till the gintleman goes past !'

American, began to imitate so artless and charm'I want to go out, if you plase, sir.'

ing a manner of narration ; and that an obscure No, you don't, Phelim.' 'I do indeed, sir.'

Berkshire hamlet, by the magic of talent and "What! is it afther conthradictin' me you'd be? kindly feeling, was converted into a place of Don't you see the “porter 's” out, and you can't go.'

resort and interest for not a few of the finest "Well, 'tis Mat Meehan has it, sir ; and he's out this spirits of the age.' Extending her observation half-hour, sir ; I can't stay in, sir!'

from the country village to the market town, You want to be idling your time looking at the Miss Mitford published another interesting volume gintleman, Phelim.'

of descriptions, entitled Belford Regis (1835). She No, indeed, sir.

also gleaned from the New World three volumes • Phelim, I know you of ould-go to your sate. I tell of Stories of American Life, by American Writers, you, Phelim, you were born for the encouragement of of which she remarks : “The scenes described and the hemp manufacture, and you ’ll die promoting it.' In the meantime the master puts his head out of authors, extending in geographical space from

the personages introduced are as various as the the door, his body stooped to a 'hall-bend'-a phrase, and the exact curve which it forms, I leave for the Canada to Mexico, and including almost every present to your own sagacity-and surveys you until degree of civilisation, from the wild Indian, and you pass. That is an Irish hedge school, and the the almost equally wild hunter of the forest and personage who follows you with his eye a hedge prairies, to the cultivated inhabitant of the city schoolmaster.

and plain. Besides her tragedies--which are little inferior to those of Miss Baillie as intellec

tual productions, while one of them, Rienzi, has MARY RUSSELL MITFORD.

been highly successful on the stage-Miss Mit

ford contributed numerous tales to the annuals MARY RUSSELL MITFORD, the painter of and magazines, shewing that her industry was English rural life in its happiest and most genial equal to her talents. It is to her English tales, aspects, was born in 1786 at Alresford, in Hamp: however, that she must chiefly trust her fame with shire. Reminiscences of her early boarding-school posterity ; and there is so much truth and obserdays are scattered through her works, and she appears to have been always an enthusiastic reader. Her father, Dr Mitford, was at one time possessed

* Mr Chorley, The Authors of England. Henry Fother

Gill CHORLEY, a pleasing miscellaneous writer and musical critic, of a considerable fortune-on one occasion he won died February 15, 1872.

notice you.

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