tion. Depend upon it, where these are encouraged-where they are free and alert-Popery will not thrive ; and though much is rumoured on the re-appearance of Jesuitism, Monachisin, Pusevism, and other Roman auxiliaries, so long as these retain their hold on men's affections His Holiness will wage a fruitless war for the recovery of lost universal dominions.*

Tue MILLIONAIRE AND TILE MAN OF LETTERS,-Men of letters meet with odd things, no doubt, and, amongst the rest, with odd friendships. Several years ago, having some reputation as an author, my suburban neighbour, a city millionaire, had paid me much attention ; always treated me with kindness and familiarity, calling me

friend- - ;' and writing notes protesting his deep regard and unalterable friendship towards me. Well, I fell ill : my bread was earned by my pen, and my pen ceased its work. My family was reduced to much privation, and, to mend the matter, John Doe and Richard Roe paid me a visit, on account of a certain society of which I was a Fellow, and where my subscriptions had fallen into arrear. I was at the time in a state of unconsciousness, yet the order was a ca. sa. and go with these two gentlemen I must, ' nolans volans,' as they said. In despair, my poor wife thought of my friend the millionaire, and went off in search of him instantly, not doubting for a moment that I should be liberated by him. She found him-stated the facts with brevity, and no doubt with all the force of a woman of fine sensibility, and her sensibilities wound up to the highest pitch. Ale heard her coldly,-expressed his regret at the circumstance,--and hoped I should get out of prison comfortably in a few weeks under the Insolvent Act! She urged upon him to prevent my being taken to prison at all, by lending the amount to free me, promising that when her own little dividend became due, it should be repaid, and offering to give him any security upon it that a man of business would think safe. Ile bit his lip,—scowled upon her.—and made some bitter remark respecting · those low fellows of authors.' Still, with desperate perseverance, for my position rendered her desperate, she urged upon him his long continued expressions of friendship and respect for me. Turning on his heel, he left the room, muttering . There's no friendship in business, Madam ; good morning.' My own apparently dying state, however, saved me the threatened ignominy, for the bailiffs were afraid to move me, and the opportune arrival of my medical man, who told them the consequences of any attempt of the kind, strengthened their fears, The next day's post brought me a check for money that had been long due to me. adequate to ' pay out the bailiff who had me 'in charge, and to provide for the wants of the period which elapsed before my health was sufficiently re-established to enable me to resume my literary labours. I have lived to see that millionaire a bankrupt, and to become a man of opulence myself: I have lived to render that man a service, who refused me so small a one as the loan of £20 for a fortnight ; and I can most truly say, that I have never reminded him that there is no friendship in business.' On the contrary, I have proved to him this, that the 'low fellow of an author' possesses feelings that the money-grub never can possess--and therewith a happiness that the pleasure of doing good can alone confer.

• We regret to find, since the above was written, that the Irish Roman Catholic prelates have asked for alterations in the ministerial scheme that it may be impossible to concede; and in lieu of being open, they seem desirous of making the new institutions exclusive, like Maynooth. In our opinion, they attach too much importance to the question of religious education in colleges. In England the practice of teaching divinity to all the students of Oxford and Cambridge has become obselete ; and it never, we beleive, existed in the five collegiate institutions of Scotland. Under this system the religious character of the Scotch does not appear to have suffered. With the vast majority in their favojir, surely the Irish prelates can have no apprehension of free competition.

Miss MONTACUTE AND THE BAZAAR. This young lady is at present on a visit to her friend, Mrs. Hoyle, in London, and she writes to her dear friend in the country, who had urged her to see the sights at the Bazaar.' We give it verbatim et literatim :

You ask me about the Bazaar. I have not been there nor am I likely to go; but you know, though I am not a bas bleu, that I have one reason at least for every thing I do, but for this decision I have many reasons. First, it is only a set of tradesmen's wives and daughters that keep the stalls, no one lady of fashion or haut-ton among them--they are all of the money-grub order. Secondly, my friend, Mr. Hoyle, would not think of taking ladies for a shilling treat, when the price had been originally higher, he piques himself too much upon being the gentleman' for that, and entre nous, it would look rather shabby. Thirdly, there would be nobody to see but the cannaillemere parvenus--nothing distingue to suit my taste; and one would not like to meet one's miliner, perhaps to be out-dressed by her, or to be jostled by one's discarded Abigail in the melee. Fourthly, Mr. Hoyle is on principle a high Tory. [Mr. Toyle, gentle reader, is a Pawnbroker in the City) and opposed to Free-Trade and a fall of rents, and would not give them a single sous to forward their mischievous doctrine of the 'legal destructibility of vested interests. I don't understand all this, but, of course, I think as my friends do! more especially as he tells me, that if the free-traders succeed in their objects, my own landed property will be reduced to a pittance scarcely better than the workhouse would afford me; and that his own business will be entirely destroyed by realizing the popular cry for cheap bread, a fair day's work, and a fair day's wages.' Lastly, I hate all innovations,—the world has worked well enough bitherto,—we have been able to live so far, and 'tis strange these odious Chartists can't let well alone.' What does it matter for a few poor people,--they've always been poor, and they're used to it; but for such as us to be beggared, its too bad! I detest the whole concern tant pis pour eux, and I will never go within a mile of their hateful bazaar if I can help it.

Are not Miss Montacute and Mr. Hoyle fair specimens of a large class of the monopolist order? As Mr. Hoyle's opulence is derived from the miseries of the poor, it is his interest (and consquently his principle), to attach himself tooth-and-nail' to his brother ‘beggar-makers'—the ‘high Tories. As to the young lady, she naturally enough believes all that is said to her, if it appear to be on the side of her own interest !

St. Patrick's Ere; or the Three Eras of Life. By CHARLES LEVER, Esq.

Chapman and Hall. If he who causes two ears of corn to grow where but one grew before should be considered as a benefactor to his species,' surely he who plants lessons of truth and wisdom in hearts where neither had place before his culture deserves well of his country: and he who disseminates Truth on any subject is entitled to our gratitude and thanks, even were that truth less important to the welfare of thousands, than it is when bearing on the position of that'debateable land,'Ireland. Whatever tends to illustrate the true



causes of the many evils that overwhelm that beautiful country, whatever is calculated to open the eyes of the English (perchance in a double sense) to the reasons why Ireland, with all her natural advantages of soil and climate, to say nothing of the light and happy temperament of her peasantry is almost always in a state of open or suppressed rebellion, and her people oppressed at once by famine and disease, -oppression from their superiors and crime amongst themselves,-—is doubly valuable at a time when past and future alike imperatively call for some change in the system of Irish legislation, and for a more general diffusion of information on the condition of the Irish people. Setting nside, then, any feeling of pleasure at seeing a new work by so popular an author as Mr. Lever, from the anticipation of scenes of fun and frolic with which he has hitherto charmed us, we cannot but cordially congratulate the public on the acquisition of St. Patrick's Eve,

' as a most clear, eloquent, and forcible illustration of the ruinous effects of

absenteeism' on the lower orders of the Irish. In the dedication (to my children'),—and in truth so simple are the story and the moral that every child may understand them,-Mr. Lever says:

• I desire to inculcate the truth, that prosperity has as many duties as adversity has sorrows; that those to whom Providence has accorded many blessings are but the stewards of His bounty to the poor; and that the neglect of an obligation so sacred as this charity is a grievous wrong, and may be the origin of evils of which all your efforts to do good through life will be but a poor atonement.'

And well has he carried out his lesson. The tale is written with that perfect knowledge of the best and worst traits in the character of his countrymen, for which Mr. Lever is already so well known. Without effort or exaggeration the author has sketched three eras in the life of an Irish peasant, and traced the miseries and crimes into which he falls to the source wbich has proved, and is daily proving, the greatest of many causes of [reland's depression in the scale of nations,—the absence of the proprietors of the soil, and the harsh, grinding oppression, of their agents. No greater blame is attached to the character of the landlords than that of ignorance of the condition of their dependents; but where that ignorance involves the ruin of the people it is surely crime enough. We should be doing Mr. Lever injustice did we not quote his own words on the subject

Had the landlord been a resident on his property, acquainting himself daily and hourly with the condition of his tenants, holding up examples for their imitation, rewarding the deserving, discountenancing the unworthy, extending the benefits of education among the young, and fostering habit of order and good conduct among all, Owen would have striven among the first for a place of credit and honour, and speedily have distinguished himself abore his equals. But, alas ! no; Mr. Leslie, when not abroad, lived in England. Of his Irish estates he knew nothing, save through the halfyearly accounof his agents. He was conscious of excellent intentions; he was a kind, even a benevolent man; and, in the society of his set, remarkablo for more than ordinary sympathies with the poor. To have ventured on any reflection on a landlord before him would have been deemed a downright absurdity.

• He was a living refutation of all such calumnies; yet, how was it that, in the district that he owned, the misery of the people was a thing to shudder at,—that there were hovels excavated in the bogs, within which human beings lingered on between life and death, their existence like some terrible passage in a dream ?—that beneath these frail roofs famine and fever dwelt, until suffering and starvation itself had ceased to prey upon minds on which no ray of hope ever shone ? Simply, he did not know of these things; he saw them not; he never heard of them. He was aware that seasons of unusual distress occurred, and that a more than ordinary degree of want was experienced by the failure of the potato-crop; but on these occasions he read his name, with a subscription of a hundred pounds annexed, and was not that a receipt in full for all the claims of conscience? He ran his eye over a list in which royal and princely titles figured, and he expressed himself grateful for so much sympathy with Ireland! But did he ask himself the question whether, if he had resided among his people, such necessities for almsgiving had ever arisen ?

Oh, it is not the monied wealth dispensed by the resident great man, —it is not the stream of affluence flowing in its thousand tiny rills, and fertilizing as it goes, we want. It is the far more, the kindly influence of those virtues which find their congenial soil in easy circumstances; benevolence, sympathy, succour in sickness, friendly counsel in distress, timely aid in trouble, encouragment to the faint-hearted, caution to the over-eager; these are the gifts which, giving, makes the bestower richer; and these are the benefits which, better than gold, foster the charities of life among a people, and bind up the human family in a holy and indissoluble league. No benevolence from afar—no well-wishings from a distant land, can compensate for a want of them. To neglect such duties is to fail in the great social compact by which the rich and poor are united : and, —what some may deem of more moment still,—to resign the rightful influence of property into the hands of dangerous and designing men.'

The admirable truths inculcated by the above extract must be an excuse for its length. The first era exhibits Owen Connor rescuing the son of his landlord from the effects of his thoughtless familiarity with the pretty sister of a hot-headed young Irishman Phil. Joyce, whose acquaintance with blackthorn exercise, aided by a party faction, places young Leslie and his champion in imminent danger. In consequence of this service, Mr. Leslie remits the rent which he has hitherto paid for his mountain land, and aiding him, besides, with money, Owen Connor becomes known as one of the wealthiest young peasants of the neighbourbood. All this, however, does not suffice to gain for him the hand of Mary Joyce, and this renders him hopeless, if not heartless, so that his energies are wasted, and his life dawdled away without object or thought. The second era exhibits most striking and harrowing descriptions of that awful pestilence, the cholera ; its ravages, attacking as it did, those whose constitutions were already enfeebled or destroyed by famine, are portrayed with a fearful minuteness. Amidst all the panic of the time, Owen is seen visiting among his poorer neighbours, relieving their wants, closing their eyes, and performing the last sad offices of friendship. At length (for who can withstand the pressure of injustice and foul wrong ?) this noble hearted man, turned out of his house by the venal agent, hunted by the police,starved, and heart-broken, is goaded on to a state of frenzy, and joins with a band of similar interests. Here the plans of revenge are laid, and here is Owen, well plied with whisky, invited to a game at cards, the winning of which is to decide who is to be the murderer of the agent. This is a scene of frightful interest, and only our want of space forbids our extracting it. Owen, at length, on whom the lot falls, goes out on his errand of blood, determined not to attempt an escape after its execution, for though the snares of the conspiracy had entangled him, his heart was not in it. Falling asleep on his watch, he is saved from the meditated crime by the entrance into the hut of his young landlord and the agent. The explanation that ensues between Owen and young Leslie causes the latter to see the evils which his absence has inflicted, and induces him to resolve on residing among his people. The tale ends, as it should, with the happy marriage of Owen with the object of his long attachment, Mary Joyce, on a “St. Patrick's Eve,” a happy one,-may Ireland see many such !

We cannot conclude without congratulating the public on the work being presented in a form and at a price which place it in the reach of all. Full as it is of subjects for deep and anxious reflection, even to the statesman, its elegant style of getting up, and admirable illustrations, make it equally suitable for the boudoir. It is decidedly the best work that has yet appeared on that crying evil,-absentecism.

Love's Legends. Poems. By ARCHER GURNEY. Mitchell. An unpretending little volume, which, if it does not contain much that soar above mediocrity, at least is calculated to please and amuse, and gives the promise also of much better and more sterling productions in time to come. It contains three poems, Adhemar's Vow, Bertha, and The Peri ; the last, which is an Eastern romance, we consider decidedly the happiest effort, although neither of the others are wanting in passages of sweetness and grace. The following we think may fairly prove our assertion :

Have ye marked one sweet bird, at the winter's stern hour,

Peep forth ’midst the realm of the storm?
Have yo viewed on its bleak bed that beautiful flower,
By its humbleness shielded from tempest wind's power,

Low resting its delicate form ?
Thus did Edith while round her the war storm clouds lower,

Seem to bask in joy's sunshine so warm. The peculiar metre of Adhemar's Vow is rather trying than pleasing to the ear, and we think the frequent mention of God, Heaven, Hell, in poems breathing of earth and earth's passions, somewhat out of place, if not irreverent. This is one of the common errors, however, among one class of writers in the present day, and we should not notice it did we not wish to see so promising an author as correct in points of taste as of feeling.

London Medical Directory. 1845. London, Mitchell. A work of great use to the medical profession, as containing an immense number of facts, and combining the lists of the Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons, and the Apothecaries Company, thereby obviating the necessity for referring to the three lists. The many errors in the latter are corrected in the London Medical Directory.

« VorigeDoorgaan »