tising (says Parnell*) a policy that has governed them (the English) to the latest times in India, where it has been the custom to raise to the throne, in violation of the customary mode of succession, a person who depended for his station on their power, who was strictly a dependent, and who might be set aside whenever a favourable opportunity occurred." The Sic jubeo of the Virgin Queen was, of course, decisive. The bastard was proclaimed the lawful heir; and the consequence was a rebellion on the part of Shane. In this rebellion the chieftain was unfortunate, and the whole possessions, both of Shane and Matthew, were confiscated." In order," says Parnell, "to divert Shane, the territory was reputed Matthew's; and in order to get rid of Matthew's claim, the territory was confiscated as Shane's."+ Meanwhile, however, the Queen had won golden opinions in Ireland for her reception of the most popular of Irish chiefs. The gates of absenteeism were now thrown most seducingly open. The track was already beaten down which led from the desolated banks of the Shannon to the pavillioned shores of the Thames. Men, whose national failing was a sanguine credulity not untouched with personal vanity, whose infirmity of temperament was a reckless impetuosity, and whose weariness of suffering caught at every change as a relief, now first began to find new hopes for their country and themselves, springing up in the "primrose path of dalliance" which conducted them to the British court, and placed them in personal contact with a woman and a queen-with one, who, unlike her savage delegates in Ireland, received them with "tenderness, and dismissed them with favour." The baubles given by a royal hand, and displayed at Shane's Castle, were pledges to the followers of O'Neil that the heart of the Queen was of another policy from the counsels of her ministers. A mandate, therefore got up in the form of a slight accusation, but considered by the accused as an invitation, brought the O'Rourke chief or prince of Brefney promptly and inconsiderately to the feet of the fair sovereign who had issued it. This gallant Irishman, as renowned for his personal beauty as for his turbulence, had long been a favourite theme of complaint in the despatches of the Irish deputies. Even his personal influence, and the splendid endowments out of which it arose, were brought as damning proofs against him. These also induced, perhaps, the Queen to judge for herself; and the handsome absentee was received like O'Neil with a show of tenderness, though not, alas! like him, "dismissed with favour." While history has briefly thrown off the facts of his summons Apology, p. 58. + Si je ne vous mange pas en oiseau, je vous mangerai en souris. "Other times," they say, "bring other manners ;" and it is not impossible that men, restrained by the manners of our own times, may avail themselves of the circumstance of their enforced moderation, to reproach the writer who thus recalls a fact disreputable to the English government, with ripping up old sores. The fact, however, is "germane to the matter;" for it was such forfeitures that sowed the first seeds of that permanent absenteeism which modern ministers affect to deplore and it was these flagrant violations of common justice, that first nurtured the lawless disposition in the peasantry, which is made an excuse for the suspension of all constitutional rights, and which is most unjustly charged on the Catholic religion. Besides, as long as the system is continued, which withholds emancipation, and gives over the land to the tyranny and plunder of churchmen and their inherents, the "ripping up old sores" is both useful and justifiable. to court, his detention, and his unexpected execution, tradition has woven his story in the maný-coloured web of her own romantic loom; and though the catastrophe of the tale, which still circulates in the neighbourhood of his ruined castle, attests the ignorance or the love of the marvellous of those who invented and circulated it; still there is a dovetailing of the old Irish Shanaos with historic record, which shews that si cela n'étoit pas vrai, c'étoit bien vraisemblable. "A wild story concerning O'Rourke," says the author of the History of the Irish Bards, "wanders about the County of Leitrim. O'Rourke was a powerful and turbulent chieftain of this country in the reign of Elizabeth. The Queen invited him to London, making him, at the same time, warm professions of honours and service, though she only intended, by this invitation, to lead him into a kind of exile, in order to secure his obedience. The ingenuous O'Rourke, duped by the Queen's arts, promised to comply. Before his departure, he assembled his vassals and neighbours in the great hall of his castle, and entertained them with all the splendour of the times.* This is the feast so humourously described by Mac Gauran. On O'Rourke's arrival at Whitehall, the Queen was ready to receive him. The elegant symmetry of his person, and his noble aspect, struck her Majesty, and she secretly determined to rank him with her choicest favourites. A sumptuous apartment was allotted him in the palace, and a train of domestics were ordered to attend him. One night, a female tapped at his door, and was readily admitted; but she retired before the morning broke. The lady continued her visits for several nights, always retiring about the same hour. O'Rourke's curiosity was awakened, and he often urged her, but in vain, to disclose her name. At length he discovered, by the light of the moon, a ring on one of her fingers, which he observed with strict care, in the hope that it would lead to a discovery. Next day espying the identical ring on her Majesty's finger, he unfortunately insinuated to her that he had discovered his fair visitor. The following night an assassin was employed to punish him for his idle curiosity." The public execution of O'Rourke is however on historical record.t The only crime of which O'Rourke could be accused, was his having received some shipwrecked Spaniards under his roof. Men, says O'Connor, whom the most hardened barbarity could scarcely consider as enemies. It is remarkable that O'Rourke previously to his execution was denied a priest of his own persuasion. But Miles Macgrath, the converted archbishop of Cashel, was sent to prevail on him to conform. "No," said O'Rourke firmly, "but do you remember the dignity from which you have fallen; return to the ancient Church, and learn from my fortitude the lesson you should have taught me, and which you ought to have been the last to disavow." If there is a shadow of truth in this wild story of Leitrim, and Rourke did not betray the lady, he deserves canonization. Essex, however, who shared the same fate, preserved the same honourable secresy; and the purity of the Virgin Queen remains intact. The ruins of O'Rourke's castle still exist. They are sublimely situated on a rock that hangs and frowns over a rapid river, near Manor Hamilton, in the county of Leitrim. A few trees are scattered immediately about the castle, and around are heathy mountains rising to the clouds. "O'Rourke's noble feast" has been rendered immortal by the translation of Dean Swift. THE CONQUEROR'S SLEEP. SLEEP midst thy banners furl'd! Yes! thou art there, upon thy buckler lying, Stillness has smooth'd thy brow, And now might love keep timid vigils by thee; Tread lightly, watchers!-Now the field is won, Perchance some lovely dream Back from the stormy fight thy soul is bearing But thou wilt wake at morn, With thy strong passions to the conflict leaping, Why, so the peasant sleeps Beneath his vine!-And man must kneel before thee, Forget that thou, e'en thou, Hast feebly shiver'd when the wind pass'd o'er thee, THE WISH. OH! dews of morning, mild salubrious air, And sleep beneath the turf or silent stone, F. H. J. M'C. A TRIP TO LISLE. We love roast beef, Old England, and our home, From those French fellows, fond of revolution : To drink champaigne, buy gloves, or something so: Or can't conveniently discharge a debt- A better reason nobody demands; And then in Calais you a lodging get, Then there are minor reasons, which befit For if a jaunt, dear creatures, can amuse them, Where is the barbarous man that would refuse them? So to our story, lest it should prove tiresome- Or Turkey, or Cook's voyages. A higher sum It costs not, (they 're in slips, five francs apiece,) Could well to pay the difference afford. All that we saw and did upon our route, If you 'll but listen, I'll relate in rhyme; For prose wants wit, which verse can do without, Our party was not numerous; we were four,- Sagacious, watchful, keen in sight and smell; As D-d-'s, verdant with umbrageous trees, That nothing for a constancy can please : The Surrey hills, through Kent, and down to Dover. VOL. VII. No. 42.-1824. 63 We hired a boat to cross the herring pond, Of seeing ocean foam or Tritons dance. Beneath the favouring breeze the canvass sweels; To those who seldom on salt-water sail? We all had passports; nor must we deride A thing, because to no plain good it tends Takes a false name, and there the matter ends. Hail, Calais! ours thon should'st have been by right, Or why with British blood was Belgium stain'd? With such a key to Paris, still we might A thousand score of French have coolly brain'd, When of the Bourbons they, sad traitors, tired, And wanted any king than the Desired. Hotel Dessin received us: 'tis the best In Europe, says the guide-book (sold by Leigh); And, as I have not visited the rest, And am not rich enough to go and see, Why I believe it :-and, it is confest No rooms can finer or more spacious be And then a garden, theatre, and bath, Combined as here, what other hotel hath? Two roads branch off from Calais gate :-one carries And we had but a single fortnight's law; We posted to St. Omer's the first night; To give the best of every thing she had. To make the mistress, maids, and waiters glad; Who, in return, good souls, were nothing slack To show how much they hoped to see him back. |