It was a dreadful night; but as no enemy advanced, and imagination

seemed more busy than reality, in threatening danger, the family

retired a little later than usual to their several apartments. When

I reached mine, overcome by the struggle of feelings which too often

slumbered, I threw myself into an old arm-chair near the head of my

bed, and would have given more than I possessed, that tears such as I

once could shed, had come to my relief, but tears would not flow.

"Good God," I exclaimed, "can this hardening of the heart--this

stifling of natural sympathies--this close, secretive, frigid

philosophy--be the road to happiness? Are those who have thrown off

the ties of religion, and learned to contemn the commandments of their

Creator, in the path of peace and virtue?"

These and other self-directed questions were put to my heart in the

stillness of solitary examination, and the answer of conscience

appalled me. I prostrated myself on my knees, and I, who would

not give my parents the satisfaction of thinking that I ever sent

up a petition to heaven, now fell instinctively into the language

of supplication, and broke into an agony of prayer. A few minutes

more, and I firmly believe that I should have been found weeping on

my mother's neck. How she would have clasped the penitent to her

bosom! But in the very instant when I was rising from the ground, the

door of my room was gently opened, and she who had little reason to

love or care for me, urged by all that powerful impulse of maternal

solicitude which never sleeps, put in her head to assure herself that

her ungracious child was safely protected by the shelter of his chamber

from the hurricane which denied her repose.

This unexpected apparition worked a sudden revolution in my

feelings. Ashamed and mortified at having been caught in a posture

of humiliation, my wretched pride regained its empire, and I rudely

inquired of my mother what she wanted.

"Only to see that you were here, Albert; God bless you," was her soft

reply.

She closed the door, and my contrition was at an end; the yearnings

of returning affection were given to the winds, and locking my door

with an angry violence, which I intended should say, "I will not again

suffer such intrusion," I extinguished my candle in a rage, and plunged

into my bed, but not to rest. To sleep was not so easy; the storm

increased every moment, and though I had never been wanting in the

animal boldness called courage, I had a chill at heart that night as if

the phials of Almighty wrath were pouring out upon a guilty world, and

the judgment of God preparing punishment for the wicked.

In spite of all the sophistry with which my tongue had become familiar,

conscience was not silenced, but forced the reluctant confession, that

my associates and I were mischievously engaged in aiding a rebellion

which would probably terminate in much bloodshed and misery, while

_true_ patriotism was the last motive that influenced our conduct.

The fact was, that like all agitators we were impelled by motives as

various as the several characters on which they operated, and were

kept together by an imaginary bond to which, for the convenience of

compact, we gave a name very foreign from our real purposes, and in

reality little connected with the welfare of our country. I knew even

at the time when I was most closely leagued with the Talbots and

Lovetts, that they were both selfish and violent. These young men

governed the rest of our confederacy with despotic sway, to which, with

all our boasted independence, we implicitly submitted.

Thus are we cajoled in every stage of our existence. Perpetually

deceiving ourselves, we applaud or revile not the principle but its

application, and the same conduct which is the theme of our reprobation

becomes that of our praise and adoption, when happening to chime in

with our prejudices or our wishes.

I was in a musing vein, and notwithstanding the riot of conflicting

elements abroad, I lay pondering mournfully and restlessly, when my

cogitations were interrupted by a gun. I started up, and by the time

that I groped my way to the lobby, I found the whole family assembled.

My mother stood in a listening attitude, holding a little lamp, which

she always kept burning at night, in her hand, and ere we had time to

interchange a sentence, the sound of a second shot put an end to all

uncertainty, and the only point left to conjecture was the cause of

this firing. Some thought that we were going to be invaded by a rebel

party, while others feared that a ship had foundered in the bay.

As the latter belief preponderated, it was suggested that we should

instantly sally forth to the cliffs, and try whether it might not be

possible to render assistance to the sufferers. Here was a crisis which

broke through the reserve which had become habitual amongst us, by

one of those forcible appeals to humanity that bear down whatever is

not in unison with their own prompt and virtuous impulse. All memory

of bitterness was now suspended in the common interest excited by the

occasion.

Reader, have you ever known the unaccountable perverseness of a

stubborn soul, in the pride of unsubdued passion, resolved to be

miserable rather than abate a high spirit, though you longed, with

gasping impatience, for any event which, without your own intervention,

might place you once more at ease with those whom you had offended? If

you have, my sensations at this moment will not seem strange to you. I

had not expressed any sorrow for the past, nor lowered my dignity by

any promise of amendment for the future; yet here I was on a sudden,

running to and fro, and talking familiarly with father, mother,

brothers, and sisters, as if harmony had never been disturbed. Those,

on the other hand, who have never experienced the perversion of mind of

which I am giving a history, will find it difficult to comprehend how

this hour of dismay and anxiety should have been the happiest which I

had known for a long time, resembling what a man feels on the removal

of a burthen which had pressed with intolerable weight on every muscle

of his frame.

An old Scotchman, who had grown grey in our service, was one of the

first who appeared in the group, and lighting a candle, which he put

into the great stable-lanthorn, he called Harold, Charles, and me, to

accompany him. Away we flew, and many minutes did not elapse before we

reached the steepest part of the headland which overhung our bay.

What a scene presented itself! The rain had ceased, but it blew a

perfect hurricane; the scud drove furiously across the sky, while

now and then the broken beams of an angry moon darted on the ocean

a wild and scattered light from under dense masses of the blackest

clouds, which sped athwart the heavens as if bent on some message of

destruction; the waves rolled mountains high, and dashed with wild

impetuosity upon the rocks, roaring in thunder as they approached

the shore. Gun after gun was fired, but at such a distance that we

despaired of being useful. We knew not how or whither to direct our

efforts, but stood close together, trying to resist the force of the

tempest, and endeavouring to catch any sound that might guide us to the

scene of distress, when the shriek of a female voice, borne distinctly

upon the blast, afforded dreadful assurance of shipwreck near at hand.

The cries were repeated with increased agony, and were louder or

fainter as the wind rose or fell.

With one accord we hurried down the rocks as fast as the irregular

crags over which we had to scramble would permit. As we descended, a

fearful scream of anguish met our ears, after which we heard no more.

All but the raging of the storm then died away, and by the time that we

reached the bottom of the cliff no sound of human woe mingled in the

gale.

A poor fisherman and his family lived at a little distance in a cavity

amongst the rocks, and thither we next directed our steps. I was the

first to gain this miserable hut, the door of which I found wide open,

swinging to and fro on its crazy hinges. We called aloud to Kelly, his

wife, and sons, but received no answer. M'Farlane, the old Scotchman,

proposed that we should go farther down along the shore to a little

creek, in which Kelly's boat was usually moored. When arrived at the

spot, there was no boat there. We hallooed again, but in vain; no

living being seemed within hearing; all was silent save the winds and

waves. As the tide was rapidly retiring we groped along the sands,

holding the lanthorn close to the ground, and searching, as carefully

as its uncertain glimmer would allow, for any vestige of the wreck,

which we concluded that day-light would but too fully exhibit.

While thus employed, Harold's foot struck against something soft which,

on examination, proved to be a small spaniel with a collar round its

neck. The poor animal was quite dead, and holding it up to the light,

we read the name of Henry Talbot. The shock of this discovery was

indescribable. A thousand vague, yet terrible surmises rushed upon my

imagination, and before we were able to retrace our path to Kelly's

hut, where we determined to wait the break of day, an oar over which I

stumbled, and which we found branded at one end with the letters D. K.

afforded awful conviction that a dreadful catastrophe had involved the

unfortunate fisherman, and perhaps others, in a watery grave.

We took up the oar on our shoulders, and on reaching Kelly's cabin,

which had been empty when we first visited it, we were not a little

surprised to find his wife lying flat without signs of life upon

the clay floor. We raised her, and perceiving that she was not dead,

placed her gently on the wretched trestle, which, covered with straw,

and a blanket, served for a bed in this lowly habitation; and taking

the candle from our lanthorn lighted a few dry sticks which were piled

in a corner. We then removed poor Norah to the fire, took off her old

water-soaked cloak, and began to rub her hands and feet with all our

strength. We discovered a bundle of rushes too, which having been

dipped in grease, serve the poor Irish in place of candles, and were

glad to avail ourselves of their feeble aid, not only for presenting

some sort of beacon to any vessel which might be nearing the rocks, but

also to assist our search for any thing with which to moisten the lips

of the dying woman.

At length I discovered a bottle which held a remainder drop of whisky,

and seizing on this treasure, we hastened to try its life-restoring

powers on our patient. While my brothers and I were thus busily

occupied, M'Farlane drew from the corner cupboard, in which I had

found the bottle, a small bit of soiled paper folded up, on which, when

opened, the following words appeared written in _printing_ characters,

apparently for the purpose of disguising the hand that traced them.

"Be sure not to fail us. You know the place, and the hour. A vessel

will lie to, off the Bay. Let nothing tempt you to betray him. A better

reward than money will crown fidelity. Finish the good work which you

have begun. I depend also on Norah and the boys. If we succeed in

getting _him_ safely out of the country, all will be well. She will see

him on board, which I am sorry for, as the weather is unpromising. We

must land at the Black Point, after doing our job. This goes by a sure

hand. Be prepared early; read, and burn.

"Yours, truly ----"

"Hah, hah!" cried M'Farlane. "I see plainly enough now how it is. Here

is a plot, and the plotters are taken in their own snare. A heavy

judgment from Heaven is come upon them."

I sprang towards him, and snatched the paper from his hand, anxious

to prevent him from getting hold of information not intended for him;

but he had read all the contents; and though there was neither name nor

date to apprise us of the actors, it was plain enough that Kelly and

his sons had been employed with their boat to convey some mysterious

personage from the coast; while it was equally manifest that the writer

of the billet, whoever he might be, and the female to whom he alluded,

designed to return, after executing their trust, and placing their

charge securely on board a vessel ready to steer, in all probability,

for France or America.

M'Farlane could never be induced to take part in any of our schemes,

and had lavished much useless advice to deter me and my brothers from

joining in what he called "the wicked folly of the times." He was hence

a person of whom we stood in some awe, and with whom we held very

little communion, considering him, as we did, no better than a spy; and

I felt exceedingly vexed and annoyed at his having been set on spelling

and putting together these few dark words, which told sufficient to

excite curiosity.

I turned and twisted the paper which had been crumpled up, and was

probably reserved for lighting Kelly's pipe, in performing which

office, the poor fellow seemed to think it would be time enough to

obey the injunctions of his correspondent by destroying it. The words

already noticed were written with pen and ink, but on minuter scrutiny,

I deciphered on the outside, scrawled with a pencil, and nearly

illegible, a sentence which was apparently designed as a postscript to

the note.

"Take care, and let not a syllable escape your lips _up the hill_. Many

matters now afloat, must be kept secret from _that quarter_."

What is the meaning, thought I to myself, of "up the hill?" and

it instantly flashed across my mind, that Glendruid was the place

indicated by this expression, and that I was one of those to be kept

in the dark respecting all proceedings. We who had toiled early and

late, sacrificed food and rest, frequently hazarded life and liberty;

and spent every shilling which we could command, were to be treated as

aliens, as enemies!

Is this gratitude? exclaimed I. I hastily resolved to separate myself

immediately from men thus undeserving of confidence; such treachery was

intolerable, and I longed for an opportunity of resenting it, though

caution would be necessary, lest I might injure my cause with Albinia

by renouncing all future league with her brothers. My resolution was

not the result of good feeling, it was only the effervescence of

sudden indignation, and events succeeded which prevented its practical

steadiness from being brought to the test.

During the short interval in which I was engaged by these reflections,

my brothers continued their efforts to revive the cold-stricken Norah.

After many fruitless efforts, they at length accomplished their object.

A few drops of the cordial whisky were swallowed, and in a little time

she opened her eyes, which she rolled wildly round, and starting from

her bed, shrieked aloud--

"Oh Dan a Vourneen, where are you? Where is Jack? Where is Timsey?"

Her eyes lighting on _our_ faces, not those of her husband and

children, she relapsed into another swoon, long and deep, from which we

had great difficulty in recovering her.

At last she sat up, and clasped her sun-burned hands together in an

agony of grief, rocking her body backwards and forwards to a piteous

wail, which the Irish call Ullagone; the dirge music in which they

mourn their dead. She gave no answer to our entreaties that she would

try and compose herself. In vain did we inquire what had happened, and

ask how we could possibly afford her any relief. She did not reply to

a single question, but rolling her tearless eyes in their sockets,

staring now at one of us, and then at another, but without appearing to

take notice of any, the hapless creature continued her melancholy howl,

beating her breast and tearing her hair.

At the expiration of an hour's ineffectual effort to obtain the

slightest information from Norah, we determined on removing her from a

scene so dreadful as that of her now lonely abode, leaving M'Farlane

behind to watch the fire till our return. Just as we were going to

take Norah from her cabin, the sagacious Scotchman bethought him

of an expedient which operated like magic on the wretched mourner.

He recollected the national superstition, and exclaimed, in an

expostulatory tone, "Oh then, is it like a fond wife or mother, to say,

that you'd let their ghosts roam for ever and ever, without rest or

quiet, rather than tell where we might look for the bodies, and bury

'em like Christians?"

This idea roused Norah's torpid senses. She started as if she had been

shot, and would have rushed out of the house, if we had not fastened

the door in the instant that she was about to dart through it.

"Yes, Norah," said the persevering Scot, "they will wander, and be

unhappy, if you do not tell all you know, and let us try and find them,

that they may be _waked_ properly, and buried with their people."

"God bless you; God bless you;" reiterated the frenzied Norah; "Go to

the Black Pint; och, 'tis the Black Pint."

"What took them to the Black Point at this unseasonable hour, and in

such a storm?"

"What else but the boat, gramachree," answered Norah.

"What were they doing in such weather as this?"

"Fishen, dear, fishen," was the poor creature's lying answer.

"No, that is impossible, Norah," said I; "you must not deceive those

who would befriend you. Dan Kelly knew too well when it was coming on

to blow hard. He would not venture his own life or that of his sons in

such a night as this. It is no fishing time. Tell what you can of the

affair and every help shall be given you."

"I knows nauthen, asthore. For the honour o' God, dear, ax me no more,

for I can't tell any thin but only that they war strugglen home agin

the tide, and were maken straight for Black Pint when a big wave (oh

then, oh then, oh then!) hised away the boat and capsized it. There's

no more to be tould, only my darlens is gone, holy Mary mark 'em to

glory, and 'tis I that's dissolit to day." Norah wept bitterly as she

uttered these words. I besought her to tell me who, beside her husband

and sons, had been buffeting the billows in the boat on that awful

night.

"How does your honour think I can tell! 'Tis enough for me, that them

that's gone, _is_ gone. Oh! cuishla machree, Timsey, my darlen of all

my darlens."

Mac Farlane, perceiving that I made no great way in my catechism,

brought forward the little dog, which had lain by in a dark corner

of the cabin, and carelessly turning it with his foot, said, in a

soliloquizing manner, "Poor little brute! you are more lucky than your

master. He is gone, to be sure, with the rest of 'em, and will be

without christian burial too, while you will be laid in the ground as

if you had a soul to be saved. I wonder, Mr. Albert, whether the party

in the boat were lost before they reached the ship, or whether they

ever were able to put the stranger on board." Norah had not till now

seen either the oar or the dead dog, and fell into the most extravagant

lamentations at sight of them. Terrified at finding M'Farlane, as she

now believed, in the secret, she fell on her knees, and in a tone of

the most earnest supplication entreated that he would not divulge a

single particular.

"Some of 'em may be alive yet. May be all wouldn't be drownded, and if

they war, the sperrets o' the dead, Misther Mickfaarlin, would never

laive you alone if you spaik. Oh! Sir, and the widdy's blessen on you,

don't be villeefyen them that's gone. Laive 'em quite any way, for

they've enough to trouble 'em without _that_."

"I wouldn't harm the dead, woman," said M'Farlane, "any more than you.

'Tis a pitiful case. Only tell his name, and her name who was with him,

and your fortune is as good as made. If you speak truth, my master will

send an account of it all to the castle o' Dublin, and you'll be sure

of a purse o' gold that will keep you in comfort for the rest o' your

life."

"I'll tell nauthen but what you know," replied the sobbing Norah; "and

there's no use in axing me, for I'll die before I tells upon 'em. What

do I want of cumfurt now? If money would make tell-tales of any that

lived in this cabin, as poor as it is, would'nt we be riden in a coche

and six long ago fur spaiken plain, but though they're down in the salt

sai, I'll not fret 'em, I'll hould my tongue, and Misther Mickfaarlin,

if you war'nt a sassenah (no offence, Sir), you would'nt be the one to

turn the harts o'the dead frum me. Oh then! oh then! a wee-nough Dan,

and Tom, and Timsey asthore! If 'tis a thing that they braiks every

bone in my body, or cuts out my tongue, they'll get no good o' me, for

the sorra a word I'll spaik, no more than the dead himself."

No cunning of M'Farlane's could elicit farther, and though so strongly

prompted by curiosity, which triumphed over every other feeling, that

I had endeavoured myself to come at the bottom of the melancholy tale,

I admired the noble devotedness of this affectionate woman, upon whom

no sordid motive had the slightest influence. She would willingly

have laid down her life, rather than betray the cause to which she

had sworn fealty. Oh! how the generous heroism of poor Norah, and her

enthusiastic fidelity even to the shades of those who had been dear

to her, put to shame all who, without a spark of disinterested zeal,

first involved, and then abandoned a people, many of whom gave proofs

like this of the tenderest and most unselfish attachment. Norah,

suddenly recollecting that the removal of the dog might damp the spirit

of investigation, seized a spade which stood in the hut against the

wall, and turning up the clay floor within the hurdle which served as a

partition between the outer division of her hut, and the interior where

she slept, deposited the little animal, collar and all, filling the

hole, and stamping the ground with her feet to make all smooth as it

was before. In this labour of love towards the memory of the departed,

her grief seemed forgotten in her anxiety to conceal whatever might

injure any survivor whose cause her husband and children had espoused.

CHAPTER IV.

We succeeded at length in detaching Norah from the scene of her loss,

and having left her in the care of my sisters, we repaired again with

the dawn to the beach, which we diligently searched for miles along the

shore, and found covered with mounds of oar-weed-timber, rope ends,

and other indications of the last night's storm. A weather-beaten hat,

which bore no mark to ascertain who had been its owner, was all that we

picked up which told that human being had been on the seas that night.

The kindest attention was shewn at Glendruid to the unhappy Norah,

and as she continued to persist in pleading ignorance of every thing

beyond the misfortune which deprived her of all she loved on earth, she

was spared after the first examination. But the "hundred tongues of

rumour," were soon unbound.

In the course of the following day, a report was industriously

circulated that Albinia Talbot and Richard Lovett had gone off upon a

matrimonial adventure to Gretna Green. The two families affected to be

much displeased; and as their consternation was sincere, though not

proceeding from the alledged cause, they were enabled to act their part

with specious appearance. On pretence of being severely shocked by the

event, access was denied to visitors both at Painesville and Ferney, so

that all communication was suspended for the present moment. My father,

however, though not in the habit of calling at either house, conceived

himself called upon as a pastor to offer kind condolence, if he could

do no more, and on the third day after the reported elopement, he set

out on a ride over the mountain to try whether he might not be able to

mitigate the wrath which he heard had been excited against the young

people, and prevail with their respective families to forgive an act

which could not be recalled.

His road lay through Ballymaclashen, where there was a post office

at M'Carthy's public house, which he was to pass, and calling for

letters, he was presented with an enormous government packet, filled

with printed proclamations, which were forwarded to him from the

castle, with an official requisition to have them posted in the most

conspicuous situations. These printed papers, minutely described by

name, dress, and personal appearance, the very young man whom I knew to

be my brother Harold's dearest friend and ally, offering a large reward

for his apprehension, and stating that he was known to have taken

refuge in our mountains, from whence it was supposed that he meant to

escape across the seas. My father read the proclamation aloud at the

chapel door, as well as that of the church, and ordered the old sexton

to get some wafers and stick up the notices throughout this village.

Imagining that this new circumstance might throw some light on the

story of the Gretna fugitives, he hastened his steed and pushed forward

towards Ferney.

When arrived at Mr. Talbot's, he learned that on the preceding morning,

before daylight, the whole family had set off to Dublin in the greatest

speed to try and overtake their daughter. This intelligence was

received from a cowherd, who seemed the only person left about the

place, and my father having expressed his concern that any thing should

have occurred to give pain to his neighbours, added a hope that the

young gentlemen were all safe.

"We have been uneasy," said he, "lest any fatal accident had happened

on Tuesday night, when Mr. Henry's dog, you know, was found at

Glendruid. We all feared that he might have been in poor Dan Kelly's

boat, when he and his sons were drowned."

"Och no! for what I know they're all safe enough," answered the

cowherd: "Croppy follied Dick Lovett, who lost him as he was comen

home, and the dog was swamped, they say, among the rocks."

"Good day to you then," said my father; "I shall call and ask how the

family at Painesville are this morning."

"You may spare yourself that throuble, Sir," rejoined Bat Higgins; "all

the Lovetts are gone full cry afther the young couple to some place in

Scotland; I think where they say that a blacksmidth is all as one as

the clargy, and buckles the people as tight as the best of 'em."

As it was growing late, and the country had long been unquiet, my

father, fearful of alarming my mother by being out after sunset, turned

his horse into the homeward path, little pleased with the gruff,

unceremonious manners of the cowherd, and pondered the altered style of

the peasantry, and the mysterious departure of his neighbours, as he

rode along. In passing again through Ballymaclashen he found that the

proclamations were all torn down, in the short period of his absence.

He inquired, but could not learn who had shown such disrespect to

Government and to him; and observing a sullen uncivil deportment in

the people, who neither touched their hats, nor said a courteous word

as they had been wont to do, he thought it prudent to advance without

irritating them by farther interrogations; so, sighing as he ascended

the heathy barrier which lay between the village and his once cheerful

home, he ruminated, as he said, on his return, upon the evil days,

which it was God's will that he should encounter, and prayed for a

divine blessing to sustain him against whatever ills might be yet in

store.

As he wound down a rocky pathway, lying between gigantic stones,

loosely piled together so as to form a sort of rude wall on either

side, a man suddenly glided from behind, and seized his horse's bridle.

My father was unarmed, and supposing the person who stopped him to be

one of a gang, determined on his destruction, believed his last moment

to be at hand; but ere he had power to speak, the man, first looking

affectionately at him, and next casting a hasty glance all round, to

make sure that he was not observed, whispered softly the following

words, as rapidly as possible:

"Plase your Riverence, dont be angry to me for stoppen ye. 'Tis to do

ye a good turn, for myself does be in danger of limb and life while

I am spaiken; but sure 'twas you and yours that often kep me and mine

from starvation, when we were all lien down togither, in the agee,

and why would I see a hair of your Rivirence's head hurted if I could

help myself? These are bad times, and your sons ought to take care o'

themselves. May be they might be afther knowen more about the boat that

was racked the other night, and consarnen them papers too, in your

Rivirence's hand, than they ought to do for their own safety and yours.

Take the warnen, and God bless your Honour's Rivirence, and never tell

to man or mortial who tould you this much, though sure in the main time

I tould you nothen at all that would bring any one into throuble. I'd

scorn _that_ any how!"

So saying, the apparition vanished, and was out of sight in a moment.

My father, as may be concluded, returned home in great agitation. We

sat down to dinner, and immediately after the cloth was removed, he

detailed the particulars which I have related in the presence of my

mother and sisters; and making a solemn appeal to our sincerity,

calmly and affectingly called upon my brothers and me, by all that we

held most sacred, to reveal truly and without prevarication, all that

we knew respecting the events of Tuesday night. It happened, as I have

already stated, that though deeply implicated in other matters, we

were really ignorant of this sad story, and not thinking it necessary

to volunteer in answering to any thing beyond the scope of the precise

interrogatory, we replied with that degree of boldness and promptitude

which bespeaks truth, that we were not acquainted with a single

circumstance relating to the catastrophe of the storm, which was not

equally known to all the country, and as to the proclamations, we had

never heard of their contents till my father brought them home, and

could not afford any clue to the discovery of the person sought for.

When we had given this assurance, my mother, in tears, threw her arms

about our necks, and I shall never forget the thrilling tenderness with

which she exclaimed, "My beloved children, let the dangers by which

we are encompassed be a bond of union amongst us--let the warnings

of this day teach us wisdom--let domestic love bless our family

circle--and let us pray earnestly for the protection of Him who can

alone guard us through the perils which seem to beset our path. If

happiness and peace be in store for us, will they not be doubly enjoyed

in concert? If misfortune be our doom, what care or sorrow is not

alleviated by sympathy?"

Alas! I _suffered_ my mother's embrace. I did not repay it; and from

the cold demeanour of Harold and Charles, it appeared that her maternal

affection met with no kinder reception from them. We were metamorphosed

by the spirit of the _Times_, and pride would not permit even a tacit

acknowledgment that we had been in the wrong. A retractation of the

opinion which had been adopted in our school would have been considered

unpardonable weakness. My mother looked chilled to the heart. Her fond

love was repelled, and the returned tide seemed almost to deprive her

of breath. Yet she upbraided not, but shook her head in silence. My

father said something to which I paid little attention, and the group

dispersed as was their usual custom.

The stimulus of late events began to wear off. Day after day glided

by in gloomy stillness, rendered oppressive by the anxiety which was

common to us all. The dark reports in circulation--the mysterious

departure of the Talbots and Lovetts, perplexed us painfully. Yet,

at the present juncture, to have indulged curiosity by taking such

steps as might lead to information, was full of peril, and the

restraint which we found it necessary to impose upon ourselves

became intolerable. I had an additional torment to endure, which was

exclusively my own, and I suffered the most intense mortification which

wounded self-love could experience.

Jealousy was a strong feature of my character. I had attached myself

with enthusiasm to Albinia Talbot, and now felt roused like a lion

from its den, and could find no solace except in perpetually wandering

along the shore, and gazing on the ocean, as if I expected that the

waves of the sea would speak and divulge all that I desired to learn. A

sort of invincible attraction led me continually to the cliffs, there

to muse on the faithless Albinia. It was certain that, under other

circumstances than those in which I had been placed, she would not

have been the goddess of my adoration. Her beauty was dazzling, but it

wanted softness. She might have represented Bellona, and seemed formed

to command--to conquer--but with the gentle graces of female loveliness

Albinia had no relation. The limited circle however of my acquaintance

afforded very slender means of comparison, and imagination supplied

all that reality denied to decorate the object of my devotion with

perfections which only exist in the Poet's dream.

I made verses, and used to "mar every tree" with writing love-songs in

their bark. The name of Albinia had mounted on every breeze, and was

returned by the echoes of our caverned beach. I had never, it is true,

_told_ my love, and had therefore no right to conclude that it was

reciprocal; but youth is full of confidence and credulity. Albinia's

manners were abrupt, but then she was a _patriot_, and her mind was

engrossed by the wrongs of her country. "When the public ferment

subsides," thought I, "will be fit time for disclosing my sentiments. I

shall then,

'---------- tell my tale

Under the hawthorn in the vale,'

and no doubt be favourably received." In the mean time I excused

all the coldness, rudeness, and undutifulness of my own conduct

at home on the plea of this delirium of my brain. I dignified the

exclusive surrender of my affection to Miss Talbot by the character

of _concentration_, and rather piqued myself upon being savage to all

beside.

"Great souls," said I, "disdain the paltry interchange of mere civility

and benevolence. They soar above such tame observances, and refusing to

be bound by the slavish ties of kindred--love and hate _grandly_."

How little did I then know of that ennobling passion, which softens

and refines while it occupies the heart--or reflect that brutality

to parents, and neglect of sisters, evinced the spurious nature of

my attachment for Albinia! But could it be possible that this queen

of my homage--this theme of my muse--this idol of my devotion; she

who nerved my arm to anticipated deeds of glory--who absorbed my

thoughts by day, and stole upon my nightly visions, had eloped with the

unpoetical Richard Lovett, who had nothing but a handsome face and form

to recommend him; Lovett, who had never held a "descant to the moon,"

nor breathed a "sonnet to a lady's eye-brow." Unheedful of my feelings,

ungrateful for my worship, had Albinia laughed at my woes, and deceived

my penetration?

Fevered by these questions which I could not solve, I used to seek

the cooling zephyrs from the bay, and withdraw from the scrutinizing

observation of my father and mother, who were, I remarked, at this

time anxiously watching the post in expectation of letters; but I was

too much engrossed by my own affairs to make inquiry, or feel any

solicitude which did not come home to self.

It was just a fortnight after the fatal hurricane, when one grey

and lowering morning I sought my usual haunt, and hastened after

breakfast to leave the house, and brood over my misfortunes in the

solitude of my favourite cave, amongst the rocks. As I sat, more than

commonly depressed, "chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy," and

like all selfish natures believing that my lot was marked by peculiar

and unmerited severity--that I was decreed by fate, or providence, or

whatever power ruled the destinies of men, to suffer more than any of

my fellow beings; I wasted many precious moments in angry repinings,

while a volume of Homer, which I never opened, lay at my side, to

give me an air of occupation should I be surprised in my retreat. I

gazed vacantly on the sea, and know not how long my reverie might have

wrapped every sense in forgetfulness of passing time, if my attention

had not been caught by some unusual appearance floating on the surface

of the water. At first I took it for a mass of oar-weed, but as it

approached the shore a vague apprehension crossed my mind that it

was a human form; and, hastily descending the rocks, I watched with

breathless emotion till the tide washed it slowly into the creek,

directly beneath my feet. What language is capable of conveying, even

in the faintest degree, an idea of the horror which thrilled through my

frame at the sight of Albinia Talbot so changed, so disfigured, that

her dress alone proclaimed her identity!

I grew sick, and staggered unconsciously to a projecting point of the

cliff, for support. My head seemed to turn round, my sight failed me;

and fully a quarter of an hour elapsed before I recovered my senses

sufficiently to make farther examination. At last I ventured once more

to approach the body, round which the well known green habit, her

beautiful hair, and the tangled sea weed, interlaced, to form Albinia's

shroud. So terrible to the mind of man is the awful transformation

wrought by death, that a cold dew crept over me as I attempted to clear

away the sedge from features so lately lighted up by the fire of health

and animation. Good God, what a spectacle was unfolded to my view!

But I will arrest the shocking description, and not press on any other

memory than my own that appalling recollection which will only be

erased with my latest breath. As I took a half averted glance at the

deceased object of my affection, I perceived a ribbon which passed

round the neck, and to which some trinket appeared to be suspended. I

disengaged the band with desperate resolution, and pulling it from the

habit which adhered closely to poor Albinia's breast, drew out a small

flat enameled case, which opened with a spring. A ring, swivel-seal,

and little piece of folded paper, fell upon the ground. I hastily

collected these reliques, and retiring from the water's edge, hid

myself behind the rocks to examine them more attentively.

The ring was of gold, with a plait of hair, and the letter P. carefully

concealed within a simple hoop. The seal was of a beautiful Irish

amethyst, and finely engraved; its device, Hibernia dashing down a

crown with one hand, and receiving a dagger from heaven with the

other, while a harp, with some of its strings broken, stood by her. On

unfolding the paper which had on one side two or three monograms, and

an alphabet in cipher, I read on the other the following words, in

an unknown and apparently feigned hand writing: "I hope that you will

not be mad enough to think of seeing me on board the----. The weather

is threatening, and the sea-faring people expect a gale. I implore you

to beware of risking your safety. I send you the _key_. Give the ring

which accompanies it to Ladhor. You will forward the seal according to

our arrangement. Farewell. I trust that ere long we shall meet again.

Though clouds may occasionally obscure the horizon of our hopes, the

cause in which we are engaged must finally triumph."

The whole mystery appeared now unravelled. The possession of that seal

which I knew to be the one used in sealing the rebel despatches sent

to France, marked a _chief_, and I had no doubt that it was consigned

to Albinia's care by the person described in the late proclamation.

I discovered him also to be no other than the friend of my eldest

brother, by decyphering the name of Harold in the transposition of

the letters which formed Ladhor. It also seemed evident that the

necessity for rapid flight had prevented my brother from either meeting

or hearing from his friend, whom, by the bye, I had never seen, and

who it would appear, had in some accidental manner met with Albinia,

and entrusted her with these commissions, to be executed after his

departure.

Here, then, was the melancholy truth, and the Gretna-green expedition

was a mere feint, to cover the mournful reality, and prevent suspicion

from attaching to the families of Ferney and Painesville. Whether

Richard Lovett had been on board the boat or not, seemed uncertain,

but whoever accompanied the ill-fated Albinia had probably shared her

sorrowful fate. The object had plainly been to put a rebel leader

safely out of the reach of those emissaries who were endeavouring to

apprehend him, and those strenuous partizans in the cause of freedom

had lost their lives in accomplishing the enterprize.

My jealousy was now for ever hushed to sleep. Alas! had I not been

enabled to explain the conduct of her who had excited it, the sight

on which my eyes had rested, furnished an all-powerful remedy for the

passion which had been an inmate of my bosom. I have since learned by

experience, that the tenderest affection may survive, after the tomb

has closed upon those beings most dear to our souls; but the hand

of death, in common cases, deals gently with our sorrows, and casts

a veil over the objects of whom he deprives us ere yet the living

memory of the beloved form is impaired. No love could stand the test

by which mine was now tried; nor outlive the shock which it had just

sustained. No impression remained to mingle with my pity except that

of horror and amazement. I lingered for some time, unable to remove

myself from the scene which had nearly deprived me of power to exert a

muscle. At length I wrapped up the enamel-case, and its contents, in my

handkerchief, which, putting into my pocket, I resolved to keep secret.

If I spoke of finding these things, I should be obliged to bring them

forward at an inquest. I therefore determined to mention the body only,

without farther particulars, and at a distant day I might contrive

some unsuspected mode of conveying the ring, which was his property, to

Harold.

My next step was to place a great stone on the extremity of poor

Albinia's outer garment, to secure the corpse from being carried out

again to sea with the ebbing tide. After this precaution, I ran as

quickly as I could; pale and faint; to tell my story at the house.

My father lost no time in taking measures for the usual form of

inquiry, but no witnesses appeared to give additional information.

"Accidental death" was returned by the coroner; and poor Albinia's

earthly remains were attended to the grave by all the family of

Glendruid, who, in this act of tender feeling towards the dead,

forgot how little they had ever approved her living conduct. Norah

was a principal figure in the melancholy procession, and bewailed her

misfortunes afresh; but as nothing appeared to contradict the story of

a clandestine union, the rumour still maintained its ground, and it was

conjectured that the parties, desirous to elude pursuit, instead of

proceeding directly by land, intended to cross the bay, and make their

way through bye roads to Dublin.

The political ferment was daily increasing, and indications of

rebellion were continually alarming the well affected.

In about a week after the funeral of Albinia, a packet of letters

arrived one morning by the bare-footed messenger who acted as post-boy

at Glendruid. As my father had written to Mr. Talbot informing him of

all that had happened, directing his letter to Dublin, on the chance

of its reaching its destination, I thought it probable that the packet

just arrived might be from my Ferney friends, and loitered accordingly

in the room where we had breakfasted, hoping to hear some tidings of

the absentees.

None being communicated, however, I stole away as usual to the sea

side. My heart was dreadfully oppressed. Restless and aspiring by

nature, I had no means of gratifying either my activity or my ambition.

The transient dream of love which had filled my imagination, and

furnished materials for many an air-built castle, which served to

beguile the passing hours, had vanished. The blank which my mind

experienced was insupportable. I would willingly have done any thing

to change the scene, and give a new current to my thoughts. I envied

the weather-beaten ploughman who toiled for his daily bread, and would

gladly have engaged in the most laborious occupation which might detach

my memory from recent events. The spectre of Albinia, arrayed in all

the horrors of the deep, was present everywhere; and the particulars of

that frightful picture disturbed my sleep. I could not read; if I fixed

my eyes but for a moment on a book, I found them wandering; and if I

compelled myself to finish a page, I had no impression of its contents,

on which the outward sense had only been employed, while attention

strayed and resisted all control. Sadly and listlessly lounging in my

rocky recess, I heard M'Farlane's voice calling my name. I started up,

and advancing to meet him, was informed that my father and mother had

gone to the Glyn, whither they desired that I should follow.

I felt little satisfaction in obeying this summons, conscious as I was

of not meriting any agreeable communication at the meeting, and always

fearful of scrutiny into my conduct.

What misery is the portion of those who quit the path of duty! but

I made no such comment _then_, though I practically experienced its

truth, and writhed under its influence.

When I reached the rustic seat in the Glyn, where my parents awaited

my coming, a mingled sensation of sullenness and shame produced

awkwardness on my part, the pain of which I still remember. How

beautiful the youthful glow of artlessness and affection! I could not

look up, yet disdained to cast down my eyes, and attempting to brave

feelings which I could not escape, sent round a furtive unmeaning

glance, which dared not rest on any object, but spoke the perturbation

of my soul, while it affected the ease of indifference. My mother's

eyes were swollen with weeping, and my father's cheek was blanched with

inward corrosion of heart.

"Albert," said he, "sit down, and listen to a determination which

concerns you. Your mother and I have resolved on accepting the kind

offer of your uncle, who long since desired to have one of our sons

sent to Quebec; but we declined the proposal. There was a time in

which we fondly hoped to see our children provided for nearer home.

None of you wished to engage in commerce, and your happiness"--here my

poor father's voice faltered--"having ever been our dearest earthly

object, you were indulged at the expense of worldly prudence, and I

gratefully refused for you all, my brother's kind invitation. Your

uncle remonstrated; censured my weakness; and foretold that a day of

repentance would come. Such a day has arrived, but to propitiate a near

and dear relation who felt wounded by the rejection of his services,

appeared a difficult task. It was very doubtful too, whether in times

like these, he would incur the hazard of taking into his house a person

of your age, who might not be found easily trainable, and who might

also, perhaps, carry along with him the unwelcome contagion of that

fatal epidemic which is desolating Ireland. The matter, however, is

accomplished; your mother has succeeded; the lot falls on you, and

we shall lose no time in making the necessary preparations for your

departure to Liverpool, whence you are to embark for Canada. I do not

give you any option. You have ceased to be a child, it is true, but

you have acted too like a mischievous one to be allowed any farther

latitude. We have no fortune. Our sons must depend upon their own

exertions for independence. Though I fear that you care no longer for

our affection, you will nevertheless have our prayers; and may He who

alone can soften your heart make you sensible of your errors, and guide

you in the paths of virtue."

My mother could not utter a word, but she held her hand to me; I took,

and pressed it with some energy, but my sudden animation was caused by

the joy of seeing a prospect opened for quitting home. This was truly

emancipation, let it come in what form it might, as the breaking up

of Painesville and Ferney had destroyed the local interests, which

I had mistaken for a more comprehensive principle; and the tragical

termination of my romance with poor Albinia, had left a chasm

impossible to be described. I hated the idea of being a merchant, but

the distant evil merged in the present good. My fears for the future

were undefined, while the rapture of leaving Glendruid was certain.

Hope was soon busy in weaving a gay tissue of things to come. The deep

affront which had been conveyed in the paper discovered by Macfarlane,

rankled in my breast, and in fact had served to turn me from the party

who had acted with such dissimulation as disgusted my self-love, though

it had not the effect of converting me to better views.

My uncle was a stranger to me; I had never seen him, but he was

accounted a sensible man. No doubt he was a modern philosopher, or

if not, my eloquence would soon persuade him. America was a soil in

which the tree of liberty already flourished. I should breathe an

atmosphere of inspiration, I should detail with all the ardour of young

enthusiasm those scenes which I left behind, and paint with raptured

glow the noble struggle for freedom which was in progress. Unfettered,

unconstrained, I should revel in the wilds of intellectual expansion;

and if catching fire from the reflection of my own fervor, I were to

transgress the dull limits of _mere fact_, and embellish my story in a

good cause, there would be no troublesome truth-teller at hand to shake

his head at me. Listening crowds would admire, and my uncle, proud of

his nephew, would encourage the exhibition of my powers. My fame would

extend. It would soon be discovered that talents like mine were suited

to higher purposes than penning consignments of cotton and indigo; and

that my abilities were somewhat above the farrago of "sugars dull, rums

looking up, pimento flat, coffees lively, tobacco smart," and all the

vulgar gibberish of trade. I should first be my uncle's idol, next his

heir, and conclude by performing a conspicuous part when I returned on

the theatre of Europe.

These idle fantasies are tedious to record, but passed with such

rapidity through my mind, that after a short pause, during which my

silence was perhaps attributed to contrition for the past, I assured

my parents of my entire willingness to acquiesce in their plans; and

arrangements were immediately commenced.

Time, which had crept slothfully with me, now trimmed his wing. My days

were no longer spent in moping along the beach, nor my mind evaporized

in fertile reverie; I was employed from sun-rise to sun-set, in

examining maps, exploring Gazetteers, collecting whatever newspapers

and magazines I could find to aid my future exploits in oratory,

and making all the preparation within my slender means for my great

_Hegira_.

CHAPTER V.

At length the welcome day arrived, "big with the fate of Cato and of

Rome;" and on a brilliant dawn, the sun shining brightly as though in

harmony with all mankind, did I bid adieu to the home of my youth. I

was not so completely lost to every good feeling, as to take leave of

my mother without emotion. I could not forgive my father for being a

clergyman, nor my sisters for not adopting my political speculations,

but my mother, that kindest of mothers, was fading sensibly away. Her

sinking spirits and wasted form, bespoke a saddened soul; and when I

felt her tears bedew my cheek, something like affection glowed at my

heart, and I embraced her with a transient gleam of contrite tenderness.

Oh! could I have foreseen that I should never behold that face again,

perhaps my obdurate nature would have yielded to the softening

influence of maternal love; but I broke through the scene, and hurried

forward.

I was to cross the Bay, and embark in a little boat from the Black

Point of stormy memory. Though I traversed the waters in the same

direction which had been fatal to that unfortunate little band, not

one of whom it was supposed had survived to relate the terrors of a

night which had exchanged for them the warm realities of this busy

world for the "cold obstruction" of death, my mind was too elate for

reflection. Though I was bidding, perhaps, a last farewell to all that

I once loved, the buoyancy of my spirit was more subdued by dread of

any obstacle which might impede my flight than by thoughts so naturally

calculated to awaken sorrowful remembrance. I pressed onwards with

eager speed. Maria had slipped a packet into my hand as I pushed

from the shore, and my brief supplies being all comprised in a small

portmanteau and a bag, I was soon on board, and gazing with new-born

transports on the receding landscape.

Such was my anxiety to quit the scene of early days, that I did

not breathe freely till having shaken hands with my brothers, who

accompanied me to the opposite side, I saw them splash their oars

again, on their return to Glendruid. I then placed my luggage on the

shoulders of a bare-legged youth, whom curiosity to see the landing,

had attracted to the strand, and set out on foot for the little town,

from whence I hoped to find speedy conveyance to the capital.

I walked fifteen miles on that day, and Irish miles are not of the

shortest, nor the smoothest, but I felt as if they had been only so

many yards. Arrived at the wretched tenement, styled, through courtesy,

an inn, I asked for refreshment, and thought a tough fowl, with its

accompaniment of rancid bacon, both barbarously dressed, and worse

served up, the most delicious morsel I had ever tasted. Exhilarated

by my repast, I became more gladsome every moment, and sallying forth

into the miserable stable-yard of this obscure place, I collected

round me a set of raggamuffins, who are always to be found idle and

lounging in such situations, and beginning with a few of the favourite

watch-words of the time, delivered an harangue by way of experiment to

the delighted rabble.

I talked with loud voice; expounded political doctrines; praised free

trade, and free thinking; abused the Protestant ascendancy; assured

the people, who only wanted employment, that they were groaning under

a vicious administration; informed them, that though they were free

to go to mass every Sunday, and receive every rite of their Church

from the hands of their priests, they might, notwithstanding, rely

on the fact, that they were suffering martyrdom from persecution on

account of their faith, interspersing my oration with such palatable

incitements to exertion for the recovery of rights which had, I

maintained, been wrested from them by the hand of lawless strength,

that my audience became frantic with applause; but I own that I was

confounded by a practical illustration of my remarks on the shamefully

unequal distribution of property, which now awaited me, and furnished

the comment on my text. My new travelling cloak which I could ill

replace, had disappeared while I was addressing the mob. "Ungrateful

miscreants," said I to the landlord, "only imagine such an act, at the

very moment when I was wearing my lungs out in their cause!"

An old man, who had reached the inn on horseback, with his valise

behind him, and enormous spatterdashes buttoned up his legs, just as I

arrived, smiled complacently at me as he listened to this apostrophe,

and stepping up, said with a kind, yet sarcastic air:

"Young gentleman, you should be proud of your eloquence, which has

proved itself so fruitful. No doubt, as you have a coat, which in all

likelihood the thief had not, he thought that you might dispense with

your cloak, upon the principle of equalization which you had been

propounding. If you will do me the favour of drinking tea with me this

evening, I will try what I can do for the recovery of your property,

through the aid of a few maxims very different from those which you

would instil. I am a magistrate, and it is my duty to translate the

little words _meum_ and _tuum_ for the poorest as well as the richest,

who come within my jurisdiction."

I would fain have avoided the tea-drinking, but my cloak was not

to be relinquished without an effort, and fearing to offend my new

acquaintance by a rejection of his invitation, I accompanied him to a

little shabby room, with sand-sprinkled floor, where a coarse apparatus

of delft covered with all colours of the rainbow, was arranged on a

small oak table, while a kettle, black as soot, was singing merrily on

a turf fire.

As the reader may imagine, I was not asked to this _tête-à-tête_

for the pleasure or profit which Mr. Vicars (for that was his name)

expected to derive from my company. His benevolent purpose was to

admonish me upon the folly of my conduct, which he did with excellent

sense and discretion; and though his advice produced no beneficial

result at the time when he gave it, I have often thought of his counsel

since that accidental meeting. When the clock struck nine, I wished him

good night, alleging my intention of being early on the road the next

day, as a good excuse for retiring, and getting rid of a conversation

for which I had no taste. Mr. Vicar's took from his pocket a little

bible, and I have not forgotten what he said as he put it into my hand.

"Young man, you profess your love of independence. Here is a volume,

which if you will accept from me, and study with care, will secure

you in the possession of that peace which 'the world can neither give

nor take away.' Look round you at all the finest schemes of earthly

contrivance. They are all rendered abortive without the co-operation of

numbers. Of what use is the most ingenious invention, if people will

not use it; or the best theory, if men will not reduce it to practice?

There is the science of political economy, which is just beginning to

emerge from darkness; you will find much evil, if I mistake not, grow

hereafter out of the application of its principles, not because the

wisdom of Smith and Turgot is no longer wisdom, but because the very

best _human_ scheme ever devised, carries its own infirmity along with

it; and if England cannot prevail on all the countries of Europe to

accord with her view's, and join in her reforms, it is in vain for her

to set up for free trade. If she should do so, she will only succeed

so far as she is able to render the adoption of her principle general

over the countries in commercial relation with her; but the guide which

I give you, will pilot you through the roughest weather, and carry you

safely into port, though all around were one universal wreck; here is

the only real independence."

I thanked the worthy man for his good intentions, but declined his

gift, saying, that as I was born of pious parents, I concluded I should

find, when I opened my trunk, that spiritual food had been provided for

me.

"Then," resumed Mr. Vicars, "I have only to hope that you may inwardly

digest it, and so farewell."

My cloak was irretrievably gone, notwithstanding every effort made to

regain it, and I resolved not to harangue the people in a stable-yard

again on the equal partition of property, without better securing my

own.

Before I went to bed, I broke the seal of the packet which my sister

had given me at parting, but seeing that it contained a letter from my

mother, which I concluded was a lecture, accompanied only by a note in

Maria's hand-writing, I folded them up again, not feeling in a humour

for farther exhortation after the dose which I had received from the

stranger. The ardour of the morning had been damped, and I was not too

well pleased with the latter events of the day; however, a good night's

sleep, I thought, would restore my temper, but I had horrible dreams.

I saw Albinia's graceful form, her rowan berry wreath, and green habit

just as they appeared when she addressed our troop from the Cromlech;

I heard shouts of triumph, then a shriek of despair; now lights were

flickering along the cliffs, and Kelly's boat next appeared in the act

of sinking.

"Hang this web of tangled fancies, the fruit of that prosing man's

strong tea," said I, as at break of dawn, I rose from my uneasy

mattress.

A common country car, was the only vehicle I could procure, "_the

chay_" being in the hands of a wheelwright five miles off; so ordering

this humble conveyance to be tackled, and filled with straw, I desired

my luggage to be stowed to the best advantage, which done, the

machine was driven on by a stout mountaineer, who sometimes walked,

and sometimes sat on the shaft of his car, as circumstances invited.

I varied my journey too in like manner, and enjoyed anew the ethereal

atmosphere of liberty, when I found myself on the top of a high hill,

snuffing the "unchartered air," and free from all human bondage.

"What are the gaudy trappings of wealth but so many shackles imposed by

luxury! What the ceremonies of a court but fetters inflicted by tyrant

fashion to restrain the will, and destroy mental energy!"

Thus did I reason while crossing the barren waste that lay over the

broad heath-covered height, which my rustic charioteer assured me was

the nearest short-cut to the great city. The morning was balmy, and

the air breathed into my heart. The perfume of Nature was delicious;

the song of innumerable birds exhilarated every sense, and I was

in such harmony with all terrestrial things, that happiness seemed

scarcely capable of increase. The pure, invigorating breezes, which

played around my head, appeared to minister a flattering unction to

my pride, in giving fresh activity, and imparting added clearness to

every faculty of my understanding. The vexations of the preceding day

were forgotten, and the world seemed to lie before me glittering in the

brightest perspective. I could have addressed a senate, led an army, or

done any thing that depended on strength and elasticity, in that hour

of inspiration.

But the path was rough, the way was wearisome, my horse grew tired; a

few biscuits and water from the spring, afforded but scanty sustenance,

and by the evening, as we descended to the beaten track of men, and

saw the wide mail coach road stretching before us, the poor peasant,

whose uncultivated intellect I had deplored, in comparing his untutored

phrase with my own glow of fluent language, had now his moment of

triumph. Calm and untired, he plodded over the craggy declivity;

smoking his pipe with as little excitement as had accompanied his

setting out, while my sand had run down, and I was exhausted with

fatigue. Unused to refinements of any kind, my poor driver knew no

want beyond what the simplest accommodation might remove, while I had

already learned that I was _not_ travelling on a bowling-green, and

that I _was_ travelling in a carriage without springs.

As I approached the high-way, I began to feel something like a sense

of shame creeping over me while I contemplated the possibility of

meeting any one in my own condition of life. "It is never ungenteel

to walk," thought I, and therefore, weary as I am, I will keep at a

little distance from my unsightly equipage, and enter the little town

at which we are to halt, on foot. Along the king's high road then, I

made the best speed that I was able to do, lowered as was the tone of

my spirits since first meeting the morning gale on the mountain top. My

philosophy, too, had taken a more humble level, and much of my boldness

had evaporated.

Proceeding slowly, and with fallen crest, I heard a rumbling noise,

and turning round espied a rattling, tattered, post-chaise advance.

As it gained upon me, I heard my name roared from one of its broken

windows, and stop! stop! shouted from another. Two young men stepped

out--a joyous shake hands ensued. They belonged to our mountain muster,

and were going up to College examinations. A few minutes settled

the transfer of my luggage, and placed me between them. This was a

delightful omen, in my mind, of prosperous fortune. All were pleased

with the unexpected meeting, and the poor bony beasts that drew us were

the only dissentients to the new arrangement. Their opposition was

overruled however, and away we went.

Four delectable days were passed in Dublin, with these young men and

their associates; but the sinews of pleasure, like those of war, reside

in the purse, and mine was too ill provided for longer dalliance. I was

obliged to sail most reluctantly, but not till I had laid in a store

of sedition, bought all the cheap prints of the day, and established

correspondences, by which I was to learn all the news from Ireland.

On reaching Liverpool, which was a new world to me, I went in quest

of the gentleman to whom I was consigned. I found him in a princely

residence surrounded by all that wealth could purchase. Mr. Arnold

received me with most friendly hospitality. He was a man of high

character in his dealings, and regarded all things in this sublunary

sphere with more or less respect as they were connected with commerce,

which in his opinion was the _summum bonum_ of earth. Considering, as

he did, the Hibernian disturbances with the most profound contempt,

he was more amused than shocked by details of our civil warfare;

and seemed greatly diverted by my pompous accounts of marching and

countermarching, attack, and defence. Any attempt at interrupting the

established order of Church and State, was, in his eyes, the grossest

absurdity, and to be put down, _vi et armis_, by the strong hand of

power. He never troubled himself with history, and therefore was not

aware of former revolution, or at least despised the Irish so entirely

that he did not apprehend any resistance which millions of them could

make. I used to burn with anger at hearing him say, "Sir, I would hang

them every one, or, if I could, I would tie a stone to the Island and

sink it like a dog in the sea."

Numbers of people were flocking, about this time, to Liverpool for

refuge. Some, through fear of the rebels, and many from dread of being

considered such themselves, and treated accordingly. Mr. Arnold was a

single man, and of convivial habits. His custom was to give the whole

morning to business, and relax at four o'clock, with a few friends, at

an excellent dinner, of which several of my countrymen were happy to

partake, and pay for "solid pudding with empty praise;" and the most

exaggerated descriptions of "hair-breadth scapes, and fights of flood

and field," to the great diversion of their host. Some of these men had

been obliged to fly with nothing more than the clothes on their backs,

but such was the kind feeling excited for the refugees that they were

received with the most liberal hospitality, not only by the wealthy

traders, but into a society, which at that period could boast of being

distinguished for literary taste, talents, and acquirement.

It was wonderful to observe the fascination in which a company,

composed of highly gifted and enlightened individuals, were often held

by the dramatizing mountebanks, who came in droves amongst them; one of

whom I particularly recollect, a coarse and vulgar man, but a master

in the art of producing _effect_. His eye was quick as the lightning's

flash, and could discern, with such celerity, the various expressions

of countenance around, that he felt, with the rapidity of intuition,

who, how, and when he was moving by his eloquence.

I remember his affecting a numerous audience one day by a story which

furnished a good specimen of his manner. It was of a boy who had

suffered death for treason. The particulars of his trial and execution

were similar to other details, of which the orator had recounted so

many, that attention ceased to hang upon his words, and he began to

feel that eyes and ears were dropping off. When, suddenly rising from

his chair, and pointing as if to the fatal tree, he exclaimed,

"Behold, my friends! see the accursed agents of despotism bearing that

child to an ignominious death! Look at the little ruffled collar which

plays to the breeze on that innocent neck which is presently to feel

the hangman's murderous gripe--and sigh over your fallen country!"

The "little ruffled shirt collar" achieved the desired end, and not a

cheek in the room remained unbedewed, so well did this man understand

the power of minute and incidental circumstances in working on the

human soul.

Like grammar rules, which are amassed in the memory long before they

are understood or applied, my observations were made, because I had

leisure to look on, but without affording any salutary deductions till

a far subsequent period. My youth, and the retirement in which I had

lived, gave me perhaps an awkward air, and though treated with the

utmost good nature, I was not brought forward, which wounded my vanity,

and afforded me much more time than I wished, for meditation upon many

subjects, though I had not then sense enough to turn the remarks which

forced themselves on my view to my own advantage.

One conversation however struck me, and inspired caution, absurd and

wrong-headed as I was. A question was asked, in my presence, of the

orator to whom I have just alluded, whether, in case that a certain

insurrectionary attempt, instead of failing, had succeeded, the persons

who had been principals in the design would have been rewarded with the

chief situations, civil and military, under a new order of government.

The answer imparted a new light to my mind.

"Pooh, pooh! Not at all. They _thought_ so, and therefore worked hard

in the cause; but they would neither have become consuls nor dictators

I promise you. They were not half bold enough for popular esteem.

These half-measure men are very useful; nay, indeed, necessary, in

the commencement of a general revolution. While events are doubtful

they serve to tranquillize the timid and restrain the impetuous, but

when matters are ripe for action, these fair and softly folks are

sacrificed, as a forlorn hope, to make way for those who come after,

and rush to the battle when a breach is effected. When the _people_

are in commotion no gradual reform will satisfy. The mob, including

all violent men of whatever class, do not desire to have grievances

redressed; and are disappointed, like Lydia Languish in the play,

when, instead of the dear ladder of ropes, chaise and four, and Gretna

Green--the consent of parents and friends leaves nothing in prospect

but a peaceable hum-drum marriage. Calm tempers, rational purposes,

and moral systems, are very well for _beginners_ and are valuable

instruments. They cajole the unwary, and gain time for the desperate;

but the advocates of tame projects will always be sent overboard as

soon as they have performed their part. In fact they are nothing more

than stepping-stones, and when the factions have, through their aid,

safely forded the river, they are voted to be impediments to the free

flow of the stream, and removed accordingly."

I was deeply attentive to this exposé, and forcibly impressed with

the baseness of men who could requite the services of unsuspecting

adherents with cold blooded treachery, using their best friends merely

as scaffolding, to be thrown aside on the completion of the building.

The scrap of paper found by Macfarlane in Kelly's cottage recurred

to my mind, and brought home (comparing small things with greater) a

parallel to my remembrance in the conduct of the Talbots and Lovetts

towards me and my brothers.

"All men who will not go to every length, are looked upon, I perceive,"

said I, "as mere tools, and thus do the cunning repay their partizans."

Disgusted and depressed, I sat ruminating at my fire side instead of

retiring to rest. The truth was, that, piqued by the want of attention

which I had experienced, I was out of humour, and mistook my chagrin

for a fit of moral philosophy. In this mood I took my mother's letter,

which, till then, remained unopened, broke the seal, and read as

follows:

"Albert, I am going, with a sorrowful heart, to address to you the

last lines which you will perhaps ever receive from my pen. I write

them for your sake, not my own. My days are drawing to a close, and if

you do not destroy this paper, the words which it contains, deriving

a sacredness of character from death, may hereafter inspire you with

feelings which, while here, I have little hope to see impressed on your

heart. Oh! Albert! my once dearly loved, I cannot tear you from this

bosom, nor forget that you are my child!

"Though I shall not live to witness a change, I do not despair of its

taking place, and if it be permitted to a departed spirit, after its

separation, still to mingle in the dearest concerns of earth, mine

will hover round my Albert's head, and mark every repentant throe

which shall agitate his breast; for repentance will yet have its

day, and a time will come, when, throwing off the coils which now

entangle, you will think for yourself and _be free_. Your soul abhors

restraint; yet you have only changed masters, in abandoning the mild

legitimate control of your natural protectors for the despotic sway

of self-constituted authority, and this you call liberty, and are the

dupe of a sound, while in reality you are held under coercion the most

enthralling.

"It is the cant of your party, that the world was benighted till now,

and is at present emerging into day, from the obscurity of ignorance

and barbarism. It is part of the same silly creed that man is capable

of "infinite perfectibility," and is in the high road to attain it. It

is not so; history supplies us with materials for a juster decision.

Man, born to evil thoughts, and following mischief with a tendency

inherent in an imperfect nature, will devise unholy schemes, and

exercise selfish views in all periods of the world's existence; and one

age is often employed in little more than overturning the institutions

of that which preceded. In private life, the miser hoards; his son is

probably a spendthrift; the third generation, perhaps, suffering by

the errors of profusion, takes to amassing again, and so on. Nations

are but larger families, still composed of men, imperfect, erring men;

some better, some wiser, than the rest, but all liable to mistake,

because all seeing through a glass darkly, and all unable to produce

any plan in which evil is not a constituent ingredient. One government

is established on the basis of wisdom and virtue, while another is

grounded on the brutal law of force. The former becomes corrupt through

confidence in its stability; establishments foster indolence; indolence

produces luxury, and luxury enervates and debases the species; the

latter, resting securely in its power, casts its galling fetters on

all who are so unfortunate as to be subject to its domination, and the

demons of prerogative and infraction stay not their merciless career

till despair inspires resistance, and the yoke is thrown off.

"Reform is wanting in both these instances; but, alas! it is always

attempted by the young, the bold, the impetuous, and generally

unprincipled; hence it is that improvement is not progressive. Bad

passions mingle in, if they do not entirely actuate, new schemes. One

man of more impudence or more courage than his fellows assumes to lead,

and the multitude, who abhorred the wholesome restraint of the laws,

follow the usurper with willing and slavish submission till fresh

chains are forged more oppressive than those which had been discarded.

"Even admitting, what is far from being true, that all innovations were

the fruit of genuine patriotism, and that common sense, which perceives

error, the inventor of new projects is still prone to mistake, as the

sparks fly upward. Old prejudices are assailed by youthful theories,

in which imagination, which is more active than judgment, and feeling,

which is more prompt than discretion, achieve the victory. Whatever

are the evils of any given state of society, they operate on those

individuals who compose it sufficiently to prevent the reformer from

being always competent to rectify the abuses of which he complains; and

here is another reason why old errors are so commonly only exchanged

for new.

"Providence has so ordered, however, that in the _great_ scheme all

works together for good: discussion sharpens sagacity, opposition

provokes research, heresy kindles devotion, war leads to peace, as

storms purify and tranquillize the physical elements; but this is not

_our_ doing: this consequence is the ordinance of Him who overrules

our follies, our eccentricities, our vices; and, giving them free scope

within a limited space, precludes them from affecting the balance of

the universe by straying beyond the bounds originally prescribed to

the exercise of their activity. As the miser is not more benevolent

because another gives in charity what his avarice heaped together,

neither is an atheist, nor a rebel, a virtuous member of society

because the unbelief of the one, and the insubordination of the other,

increases the piety or the loyalty of a looker-on. The good of which we

are permitted to be the humble instruments comes from _example_; that

which the Almighty works out of our vices proceeds from _contrast_. The

effect of the former is to sanctify the _means_ as well as the end, and

bless him who teaches virtue to those around; that of the latter is to

sacrifice the _vehicle_, though God may not suffer the brand which it

rolls flaming along to consume aught but itself.

"Consider these things, my son. The world is not of yesterday. What

you and your companions are fanning as the sparkling scintillations

of genius, now lighting on our globe for the first time to illumine

its surface, are only the dying embers of a former age, revived but to

perplex mankind with fitful glare. Quit your philanthropic delusions,

and be assured, that however paradoxical such a maxim may sound in your

ears, it is _true_, that he best loves _all_, who loves well a _few_;

wide generalities are thin and diluted, whether in religion, politics,

or affection, and the charities which profess to be universal are too

frequently the offspring of laxity and indifference. It is the sunshine

of domestic love which pours its gladdening ray to distant regions; it

is the strong nerve of godlike _duty_ which braces resolution for grand

and comprehensive enterprize. My Albert, begin at _home_. Happiness and

independence may be yours, if you do not reject the means of obtaining

them.

"Farewell, my child. Despise not the words of truth because they are

breathed by my voice addressed to you by my pen. Neither shall I long

remain to molest you: a killing blight has passed over my soul, and

scattered the sweet blossoms of hope. But it is good for me to be

afflicted. Before I was troubled I went wrong.

"May the Almighty bless you, my Albert; and should you ever discover

that there is soothing in a mother's heart, ere mine has ceased to

beat, knock, and it shall be opened to you.

"MIRANDA FITZMAURICE."

CHAPTER VI.

A soul not entirely dead to all good feeling would have been touched

by this letter. Mine was affected, but not in the degree required for

any permanent good. I folded it up, resolving that I would answer it

affectionately, and lay a foundation for better times to come. The

morning, however, brought other occupation, and the letter was put into

my trunk.

Mr. Arnold took me to breakfast with a gentleman who lived at Bootle,

not far from Liverpool, and who had a son just preparing to sail for

America. It was soon arranged that the young man and I should go

together in the Washington, which was to weigh anchor in a few days;

and my shipmate, whose name was Clarke, was invited by Mr. Arnold to

return, and dine at his house with us. This youth was about my own

age, and we had not interchanged many sentences before I discovered, to

my infinite satisfaction, that he was Irish, and a rebel. We cemented

a league of the closest amity, mutually attracted by these sympathies,

and became inseparable.

I now made the _amende honorable_ to my powers of oratory for the

abstinence which they had suffered since my arrival in England, by

opening their sluices copiously on my new associate, who, I found,

had drank more deeply by far than I had myself done at the poisoned

stream, and was quite _au fait_ in all the new doctrines. We discoursed

of the persecuted people, of selfishness, and pride, tenacity to old

systems, blind prejudices against improvement; abused the old and the

experienced as incumbrances and impediments; talked of the clergy, who

made traffic of superstition, and kept mind in bondage to serve their

secular purposes; of learning as a dead weight on the active energies;

and agreed that a democracy and an altar "to the unknown god" comprised

our highest ideas of government and religion. All were decreed to be

knaves or dunces who dissented from our opinions, and were scoffed at

accordingly. Precious specimen of that toleration which we boasted!

The ship in which we were to sail was delayed, but I rejoiced in any

circumstances which protracted my stay in Liverpool, where I found many

congenial spirits. Clarke introduced me to several of his acquaintances

who were of our own stamp, and political sympathy being quite a

sufficient bond to friendship, we became as intimate as brothers in

a fortnight's intercourse. How gregarious are bad principles! Is it

because vice is cowardly, and dares not stand alone, while virtue,

in its boldness, finds independence? My mother's letter occasionally

disturbed my peace, but each day weakened the impression, and increased

the difficulty of an answer, which was at length postponed _sine die_.

The hour of departure arrived. Mr. Arnold had taken no interest in

my choice of companions. His attentions, though full of kindness and

civility, were rather of a mercantile than friendly character. He had

accepted me like a bill; I was indorsed and negotiated in form; _now_

shipped, invoiced, consigned, and exported like a parcel of hardware.

Accompanying me to the wharf, he recommended me to the captain's care,

shook hands, wished me a pleasant passage, and, with all the alacrity

of a haberdasher, whipped off to his counting-house.

A favouring breeze filled our sails, and we were soon launched on the

broad Atlantic. In Europe if you praise a man, you are asked whether

you have ever had a money-dealing with him. In India, on like occasion,

the inquiry is, "Have you taken a voyage in his company?" To the former

interrogatory I should have had no experience to assist my reply, my

pecuniary transactions affording me small insight into human character;

but I now learned that the Indian test was no bad criterion, and ere

many hours elapsed after I left the river Mersey, I began to find that

the _concentration_ of a trading vessel brings many qualities into

a focus, which had previously been too widely diffused to make one

sensible of their existence.

Clarke, who had a keen look out after comfort in the most comfortable

sense of that snuggest of English words, had made the most careful

provision for mitigating the _desagrémens_ incident to our situation.

There was nothing wanted to complete his arrangements for the

voyage. Captain Conroy was to supply my necessities by agreement

with Mr. Arnold, but my friend Clarke, with a telescopic prescience

of ship's fare, had laid in a store of luxuries which, adding the

force of contrast to what of its own nature required none to render

it abominable, certainly blackened my salt beef into as unpalatable

a morsel as I had ever eaten. Clarke had brought new laid eggs,

potted cream, sweetmeats of every description, and all varieties of

pickles and _sauces piquantes_, while his well-fed goat chewed the cud

contentedly below, and poultry of various sorts gabbled in their coops.

Had my purse been better furnished I should not have profited in this

manner by its abundance, for I was a reckless swain, and when politics

did not engross my mind, it was given to poetry and romance, while

the _de quoi vivre_ seldom presented itself to my attention till urged

by necessity; and as we are said to "take no note of time but from

its loss," so I never thought of food till I was hungry. Thus, till I

saw the delicate cates which were displayed by my messmate, I did not

recollect that such things were, and the second thought which crossed

my mind was, that they would be common property. "It would be so, were

they mine, and of course it will be so, as matters stand," quoth I to

myself; but I reckoned without my host, and received my first practical

lesson on the difference between savings and doings.

I had hitherto seen Clarke either at his father's house or at the

hospitable board of Mr. Arnold; but now that he drew upon his own

resources, I found the case considerably altered. We talked politics,

indeed, as usual, but my companion suppressed the tirades against

worldliness, and calculation, with which he used to interlard his

discourse; and muttered a hint that charity begins at home, and that

liberality might be carried too far, upon a request for a little

goat's milk for a sick sailor. In short, a more narrow minded niggardly

being could not exist than Clarke, and I was glad to have discovered

his character _au fond_, before we touched _terra firma_.

During the voyage, I pleased myself afresh, with visions of the scene

upon which I was soon to enter. My vexations in Liverpool did not

extinguish my hope of being thought a shining light at Quebec. Vanity

is an elastic quality and will bear many rebuffs. She, with ever ready

unguents, poured soothing on the bitter waters of disappointment,

and whispered that though I failed in Boeotia, I should flourish

at Athens. Though Liverpool might be absorbed by vulgar traffic, the

glorious field of America was in prospect, and _there_ I should be more

justly appreciated.

Youth stands many a shock ere it is discouraged, and ignorance is

not easily foiled in its anticipations. I was all elate, and when

we entered the St. Laurence upbraided time with taking a nap, so

slowly did it appear to travel, till we cast anchor. My uncle, whose

physiognomy impressed me very favourably, gave me the kindest

reception. In high spirits at finding myself on shore, I accompanied

him to his house, which was pleasantly situated, and was speedily made

acquainted with the map of the interior; but I must confess that I

felt my vivacity somewhat checked at the sight of a room not more than

twelve or fourteen feet square, furnished with a deal writing-desk

painted oak colour, shelves divided into compartments alphabetically

numbered, and a few rush-bottom chairs.

This I was informed was to be my _sanctum_, and I certainly did not

fall in love with it, neither did I feel much overjoyed at hearing,

that on the following day I was to be regularly installed in office,

and introduced to ledgers and letter-books. My uncle's dinner hour was

three o'clock, and as I went to prepare for our primitive repast, I

laid my little plan for making a figure in our first _tête-à-tête_, and

securing his good opinion. I meditated what I should say, and resolved

to give him a highly interesting account of our Irish proceedings; but

when the bell rang, I was excessively mortified to find that a West

Indian Captain was to be of our party.

Nothing could be more _mal-a-propos_. Since we were not to be alone, a

few cheerful people would have been second best, but the number three,

which is at all times and in all places considered unlucky in point of

society, was peculiarly so upon the present occasion. I was totally

excluded, and sat silently listening to the most tiresome discussion

respecting freights and cargoes, unenlivened by a single remark in

which I could participate. Captain Thompson was a square built stump

of a man, who seemed to care very little about modes of government,

provided that the carrying trade were not injured. He talked

incessantly of crops and colonies, and my uncle, though evidently a

man of superior intellect, seemed not averse to indulge his guest, by

allowing him to start his own topics and dwell upon them as long as he

liked.

When Marplot took his departure it was bedtime. Candles were called

for, and as my uncle bid me good night, he added, "Albert, I fear

that this was a dull day for you, but I could not avoid asking Captain

Thompson. He is a worthy man, and sails to-morrow, so I had no other

opportunity of shewing him some civility." I was glad to hear that I

should see no more of the Captain, and retired to my chamber with a

heavy heart.

It is amazing how we deceive ourselves at a distance from the objects

of our contemplation! But as we go on doing so to the end of our lives,

it was no great wonder that my fancy had been engaged, at between

eighteen and nineteen, in drawing pictures very unlike the truth. I

was now in that land of strangers which, till the present moment, had

been a region of imagination. The vague rapture which I had painted to

myself in the novelty of a foreign clime had dissolved in air, and I

found nothing to stimulate curiosity, or justify an excitement, which

was now followed by the antagonist feeling of chill and dislike. The

notions of young people are seldom of a negative kind, because while

life is in its spring, pain has not taught them that its mere absence

is a pleasure. All their ideas of good are positive, and therefore

the more vivid anticipation, the more certain is disappointment. In

this sanguine temperament, I suppose that I expected to see the goddess

of liberty seated on a triumphal car, and the Canadians running about

_delirious_ with freedom.

Whatever were the phantoms raised by my enthusiasm, the reality bore

no resemblance to them; and I was surprised by the common-place manner

in which the inhabitants of Quebec appeared to be employed in pursuing

vulgar interests like other men. I read my mother's letter again, and

passed a miserable night.

On meeting next morning, my uncle accosted me with much good nature,

and after breakfast, conducting me to a very well furnished library,

said, "Here, Albert, you will find a tolerable collection of the best

standard works in all the European languages, and you need not forget

your Greek and Latin, as I have got a capital edition of the Classics.

I do not desire that you should, in becoming a merchant, cease to be a

gentleman. You shall therefore have free ingress here, as often as you

like to look in upon your old friends."

"They would be new acquaintances, not old friends, Sir," answered I. "I

have read very little of late, and scarcely know any of these authors

who adorn your book shelves."

"And pray," said my uncle, "may I beg to ask what you _do_ know. I

should have thought that you were at _home_ in literary matters. Your

parents inform me that you had been designed for a learned profession."

"Why, Sir," replied I, "history and the belles lettres are very well

when one has leisure for them, but matters have been ripening into

action with us in Ireland. The march of mind has been making rapid

progress, and is performing wonders amongst our brave and gifted

people. It is not easy, as I am sure you will acknowledge, to sit down

amid a heap of musty volumes, filled with antiquated learning, when

the living energies of a nation invite our sympathies. The truth is,

that politics have occupied my head and heart so entirely that I have

thought of little else."

"The subject is one of deep interest and importance," answered my

uncle; "though I am at a loss to know what a boy at your age, who

is not in the army, can have to do with active measures, as much as

it puzzles me to imagine how any but statesmen or journalists find

employment in the science of government. All indeed may read the

newspapers, and whoever considers the features of the present time with

attention, has cause for inquietude. The age we live in is big with

event, and many of its presages are alarming to a sober mind. But, my

young friend, what have _you_ to do with national affairs, and where

did you discover that men may jump into political knowledge without

reading, though remember I do not say in '_musty volumes_.' I do not

advocate mildew. I love a clean cover."

I felt a little annoyed by this half satirical, half jocular, mode

of treatment, but throwing back my head and shoulders, with what I

intended should be a dignified air, and express confidence in my

strength, I replied, "The reign of authority you know, Sir, is past,

and the enfranchised mind, disdaining to be held in thrall by the

shackles of prescription, has burst the fetters which retained it in

captivity. Mysteries are abolished. We are not imposed on by sounds--we

must have sense; we have banished the cumbrous machinery of learning,

which, like the heavy horse of Prussia, served only to impede, not

assist the operations of a campaign--precedent is out of date, monopoly

is abolished. The unchartered intellect ranges at liberty, and we have

thrown open the barriers; words no longer deceive--we study _things_;

freedom has provided _short cuts_ through the wearisome wastes of

religion and morals--utility is our test; and men may worship the Deity

as they please. Priestcraft is exposed, the altars of superstition are

razed to the dust, and the temple of nature is held to be our only

sanctuary. Religion is thus stripped of her mask, while morals have

undergone a similar reform. The jargon of the old school is declared to

be obsolete, and the absurd doctrine of restraint is superseded. The

master spirits of France have also carried the genius of reform into

the social compact, and simplified our political views. The rubbish of

antiquity is shovelled away. We no longer require folios of worm-eaten

erudition to teach us, but justice, with her even scales, is accessible

to all. It is the folly of learning which has obscured her decisions,

and rendered that which is plain and straight forward crooked and

complicated. We do not now inquire how our ancestors understood such

and such points, for the mists of darkness are clearing away, and the

human mind, borne upward by conscious strength, will rise into the

glorious sunshine of liberty and become a law unto itself. What has a

Cæsar or an Alexander to do with us? What need have we to wade through

the jargon of the economists, and break down the soaring spirit to the

low level of sordid calculation? Why should we revive the old fashioned

stuff of national resources, balance of power, and such useless

nonsense? Reason, Heaven descended, has resumed her sway, and man dares

to be free."

A hearty fit of laughter, accompanied by "well done, bravo," somewhat

disconcerted me, and my uncle's reply when his merriment would

allow him to speak, was not encouraging. "Come," said he, seeing

me look confused, "I must remember that ridicule is not the test

of truth, though we have heard the contrary. We will be serious.

My idea of judgment is, that it depends on comparison, and facts

are requisite to this process. I confess myself a sceptic as to the

merit of many new inventions, and cannot avoid auguring ill of their

consequences. Believe me, nephew, that some of the opinions which,

unhappily for yourself, you have adopted, lead to every species of

disorganization--but do not suppose that I mean to say, of either

things or people, that they must necessarily be good _because_ they are

old. Let youthful genius bud forth and blossom. I love to see young

intellect aspiring, and would do all in my power to assist its flight.

Fancy, too, has its charms, and the flowers of eloquence are worthy of

cultivation; but the wisdom of experience may be allowed its place,

though these lighter graces have their play. Nature performs all things

in season, and the swelling pride of spring is as lovely in its own

time as the ripened stores of autumn at a later period--but beware of

what you are doing. These raw politicians will effect much harm, but no

good. Only that you tell me you are no reader, I might ask whether you

are acquainted with a verse in a certain volume which warns us against

breaking yokes of wood and making in their stead yokes of iron?

"If you doubt," said I, "that the son of a clergyman has read the

bible, may I not hope that it is because you approve that liberty of

conscience which I uphold?"

"I uphold liberty of conscience, my young friend, _perhaps_, as much as

you do," answered Mr. Fitzmaurice. "Let _conscience_ be the supplicant,

and I could trust freedom in her hands. 'In all that may become a man,'

I would protect the exercise of free will, but your schemes are founded

upon license, not liberty, and so far from imparting power, would soon

circumscribe its energies within a straightened compass. One of _your_

freemen would require shackles to be placed on many, ere scope and

verge sufficient could be found for his restless activities. I tell

you, young man, that you must surrender a part of your natural liberty

to preserve the rest, in every civilized state of society. Your modern

republicans are playing a sad game."

"But, Sir, surely there is no magic in the word 'King:' kings may be

fools, and where there is no monarchy of mind, idols of wood and stone

are more convenient and less costly than those of flesh and blood." I

spoke with vehemence, and met with a rebuke which my flippancy well

deserved.

"Nephew, I cannot waste my time in talking nonsense. When you take the

trouble of qualifying yourself for debate, I shall be happy to enter

upon an argument with you. In the meantime you must excuse me if I

decline what I consider 'vain jangling,' and assure you that I should

no more dream of taking your present opinion on law and politics, than

on a cargo of sugars; you must study the one, and the other, before I

abide by your counsel."

My uncle spoke well, and delivered his sentiments with a calm force

which overawed me. There was neither foaming at the mouth nor any of

the gesticulations to which I had been accustomed in our harangues of

the "_Slat house_," where the principal orators were Mr. Talbot and

Mr. Lovett. I felt abashed, yet trying to rally, I ventured to add

something about intellect being given for individual exertion, and that

grateful for the boon we should employ our own, and not trust to other

people.

"I am not apt," replied my uncle, "to look for gratitude as the fruit

of pertness; and as for authority, I shall take leave to prefer

_my_ oracles to yours. You refer to Paine and Volney; I have other

standards, and I believe were the measure of our obsequiousness

weighed, you might be found as implicit a subject to _your_ rulers, as

I am to mine; but come, Sir, _tret_ and _tare_ must have its day, and

my political, poetical, and oratorical nephew must be nailed to the

desk for the next three hours."

Though not an angry frown was scowled upon me, I felt that there was a

sober firmness in the manner of these half playful words, which left

me no option; so, like a sheep to the slaughter, I was led away, and

ordered to my post.

The conversation which I have detailed put the finishing stroke to

all my castle-building, and brought my palmy hopes to the dust. My

favourite creeds had not only been opposed, but in such a way as forbid

any farther trial on my part to sustain them. The contempt with which

my opinions were treated, irritated my temper, and galled my spirit,

beyond expression. There was a something like pity in my uncle's eye

under which I writhed and fretted a thousand times more than if I had

been met with ferocious conflict, and been called upon to summon all

my strength. I was humbled; my self-love was wounded, and a sullen

despondency succeeded my presumptuous elevation.

Deprived of my old companions, and cut off from my former pursuits,

I was denied the blessing of solitude, in which I might have mourned

my fate without spectators. A few feet of that rocky precipice at

Glendruid from which I used to chide the heavy hours, and wish that

every sail would bear me away, seemed now the Paradise of memory, and

the whole world would I have given to transport myself once more to the

craggy cliffs of my birth-place.

I was immured in an apartment or office in which six other desks ranged

with mine, and as many clerks, who seemed not to possess a single idea

beyond the bounds of their occupation, were seated in rank and file, as

I took my station. While busied at home in forwarding insurrection, I

used to associate familiarly with the neighbouring peasants, and never

felt the dignity of a gentleman compromised in such intercourse. There

was nothing lowering to pride in such communion, because the _end_

appeared to ennoble the means, and the grandeur of the purpose in which

all were concerned, gave a character to the actors which did not belong

to them in a private capacity.

So I argued at least, but _these_ men were mere accountants; little

better than machines of wood, and divested of every pretension to

the distinguishing type of gentleman. I could not bear to hold the

slightest fellowship with them, and after a cold salutation, which was

answered by each with, "Good morrow, Sir," I was accustomed to take my

seat close to a window which looked out upon an immense paved yard,

surrounded by storehouses. A monstrous watchdog was sole tenant of

this inclosure, and the entrance or departure through its gateway, of

sledges filled with merchandise, the only variety which its dismal area

presented.

What a scene to be contrasted daily with the magnificent expanse of

ocean over which my eye was used to wander from my native shores! How

different my present prison from the rocky caves in which I was wont to

contemplate the sea's ebb and flow, soothed by the curlieu's wild wail,

and refreshed by the fragrant breezes wafted from the heath-covered

hills, or the gardens of the deep! The towers of La Trappe would have

been a welcome prospect to my imagination in comparison with the

destiny upon which I had fallen. "In that desert region of eternal

silence," said I, "thought would at least be free, and my wretchedness

would be allowed repose."

Tears which had ceased to flow from tenderness of heart, now nightly

moistened my pillow. I was without resource; the stimulus of activity

no longer braced my nerves, and the excitement of vanity had ceased to

operate on my spirits. I found my boasted patriotism beginning to flag

for want of sympathy; and I had so long depended upon its animating

influences, that I could not force my mind into any new occupation.

Those only who have felt the horrors of vacuity can enter into the

sufferings which I endured. There is something more repugnant to the

mind in being despised than hated, and more painful in the absence of

every excitement than the presence of great misfortune. A thousand

times did I form the resolution of snapping my chain, but whither

should I fly; how subsist? To return home would have been, if possible,

worse than to remain at Quebec, and I could not expect to be received,

laden with the weight of my uncle's displeasure. The only alternative

was an endeavour to submit to my fate.

At first the effort was intolerable, and for some time attended

with little success; but time was beginning to familiarize me to my

situation, and I plodded for some hours of every day at my unwelcome

task, more like an automaton than a sentient being, when all my former

energy was revived by an accidental circumstance.

CHAPTER VII.

It may easily be imagined that with my feelings I had not much

inclination for the society of my uncle. I did not, it is true, dare to

offend, but I tried as much as possible to avoid him; and have often

wondered since at the kindness of his forbearance. When the business of

the day was over, it was my only comfort to take long walks, in which

I enjoyed the luxury of ruminating unmolested on the events of my past

life. I had been several months in America, when I asked permission to

avail myself of two or three holidays in the counting-house, to visit

the celebrated falls of La Chaudière. Leave was granted; and I set out

by myself, carrying a small basket, containing such refreshment as

might enable me to take the longest advantage of my _furlough_.

Having left the boat in which I was conveyed up the river, at a

convenient distance, I quickly gained the deepest recesses of the dark

massy woods that surround that beautiful cataract, to see which was

my ostensible motive for this excursion; my real object was to give a

free course to my sorrows, and obtain a short interval of undisturbed

leisure, to consider whether there existed any practicable mode of

relieving them. The grandeur of the pines, and the solemn cadence of

the waters soothed my mind, and brought consolation, without suggesting

a remedy for my unhappiness. In the depth of this leafy seclusion, I

poured out my complaints, without dread of interruption, and repined

aloud at the severity of my lot.

"Why," murmured I, "am I gifted with talents which must remain

unexercised? Why endowed with activity which is to lie dormant? Why

have birth, habits, and education, formed me for higher things, while

I am condemned to the vulgar cares of loss and gain, in which I have

no interest, and obliged to confine my understanding to the sordid

purposes of accumulating wealth, which is to line the coffers of

another, and not even reward my labours by enriching me?"

Tired at length by self-directed questions such as these, which I could

not answer to my satisfaction, I lay down under the shelter of a hut

formed with stakes and covered with branches, which had been probably

raised by some artist, who perhaps remained at the Chaudière, to take

sketches, beyond the necessary time for seeing the water-fall.

Here I fell asleep, and dreamed of home. I thought that I had landed

in the Bay, and had toiled my way over the cliffs to Kelly's cottage,

where I found my mother pale and weeping, as she gazed on the ocean,

and exclaimed, "Better is it to shed tears over the grave of those we

love, than mourn the living!" The voice which seemed to pronounce these

words was so faithfully echoed by memory, that I started up, and broke

into a passionate invocation to my country: "Oh, my dear native skies!

beloved Island of the emerald's hue! nursery of freedom, land of the

generous and the brave, when shall I revisit your coasts? Glendruid,

thou lovely scene of infant joys, shall I ever look upon thy rocky

shore again?"

As I uttered these words, a slight rustling amongst the leaves behind

me caught my ear; but ere I had time to turn round, my arm was seized

with an eager grasp, and my eyes were met by those of Henry Talbot. No

language could convey the rapture and astonishment of this unexpected

meeting. A second figure, which had been concealed by the thick foliage

from my view, now advanced, and I perceived a youthful stranger, of the

most prepossessing appearance.

Such was the agitation caused by this sudden, this unlooked for

rencounter, that Talbot and I stood mute and breathless from emotion,

and during some minutes were incapable of speaking. Such was the

impetuosity of my feelings, that I was quite overwhelmed, and for a

short space resisted the evidence of my senses, determined rather

to believe that a vision had appeared to my disordered fancy than

that what I saw could indeed be true. At length we recovered from our

surprise, and mutual inquiry quickly followed.

I now learned that the stranger who accompanied my Captain of the

Mountain Muster, was the person for whose apprehension so much

diligence had been employed, and such large rewards offered. So

critical was his escape, that the violence of that storm under which

he embarked, alone prevented the activity of his pursuers from being

successful, and Kelly, whose secret services had often been useful,

confiding in his skill, volunteered in conveying the fugitive to a

vessel which lay off the bay hovering on the coast to receive him.

Talbot had no design of accompanying the stranger's flight, but the

melancholy catastrophe which occurred on the return of the boat towards

the land, altered his purpose. He swam on shore, and aware of the

consequences which would ensue from investigation, resolved to make his

way to Dublin, travelling by night, and lying in concealment all day.

From thence he easily contrived, with the aid of people who were ready

to abet every scheme that favoured the cause of rebellion, to procure a

passage on board an American trader, and it so chanced that the young

man who now stood before me, did not arrive till after Talbot had

reached Quebec.

Ferney had been for some weeks the place of this young man's retreat

before he left Ireland. He had suffered the greatest bodily fatigue,

as well as agonizing uneasiness of mind, and even after he had taken

refuge in the mountains, could not venture to rest his weary limbs

in the same cavern for two successive nights. The last preceding his

departure, had been passed in the rock-surrounded cottage of poor

Kelly, and the following witnessed that sad catastrophe which it was

supposed had engulphed its inhabitants, together with Albinia Talbot,

who would not be deterred from the enterprize, her youngest brother,

and Richard Lovett, in the depths of ocean!

The two friends whom it was my fortune to meet this day, were now

preparing to return secretly to Ireland, and were to leave Quebec on

the next day. They obtained from me a promise of the most profound

silence respecting our interview. We agreed to correspond, and I

engaged their warmest interest in endeavouring to procure my liberation

from a profession which was irksome to me beyond measure. The young

stranger was deeply affected at sight of the seal and ring which I

restored to him along with the case in which I found them.

The impression made by this interesting youth upon my mind was

indelible. Brief as was my acquaintance with that ill fated, but

highly gifted being, the memory of it will never be effaced from my

heart, and even now, when my whole character has undergone a change,

I recollect him with the same vivid enthusiasm which this romantic

meeting inspired. He and I appeared to be drawn towards each other by

some mutual attraction, which brought us at once into contact, while

I observed that towards Talbot there was an involuntary restraint of

manner which seemed to say, "leagued as we are by similar fortunes, and

bound as I am in chains of gratitude, we cannot unite in the bonds of

friendship, so different are the materials of which we are formed."

Truth had placed her throne on that countenance, which wore a noble

expression of mildness and sincerity. A natural grace marked every

movement, while candour and moderation characterized every word which

flowed from the lips of one, who in this transient glimpse, when I

beheld him for the first moment in my life, infused into my soul such

assurance of his worth, that I would have followed him to the limits

of creation, and trusted more implicitly to a "yes" or "no" pronounced

by his lips, than to all the oaths which could have been sworn upon a

thousand altars. "Here," said I to myself, "is the effect of integrity.

Here is the triumph of a _single_ heart over all the arts and ingenuity

of dissimulation."

I did not wonder now at my brother's devotion to such a leader, whose

judgment only led him astray. My leave of absence drew to a close,

and every moment was so precious to the fugitives as well as so

dangerous while we lingered together, that taking a hasty farewell we

parted, with a promise to meet if possible at night on the heights of

Montmorenci. I regained my boat in a state of spirits very unlike that

in which I had left it. My mind was filled with bright hopes, and my

uncle, mistaking my cheerfulness for the effect of beautiful scenery

and healthful recreation, rejoiced benevolently in the indulgence which

he had granted, while I encouraged the error that I might profit by it

again.

The vessel in which my friends were to sail was delayed for some days

by contrary winds. During this interval of anxiety they dared not

appear abroad in day-light; but we held a nightly congress, and I gave

myself much credit for the skill with which, as I imagined, I evaded

all suspicion in my various contrivances for quitting our house after

the doors and windows were barred and bolted, but I deceived myself, as

I had often done before.

At length the parting scene approached, and my feelings were not to

be envied when I bid farewell for ever to one who had taken complete

possession of my mind, and who professed the warmest attachment to me

not only for Harold's sake but my own. He promised to see my family

when he conveyed the ring to my brother, and I gazed on the sail which

bore him away till it was lost in distance.

An aching void now succeeded, I became absent and abstracted, blotted

the letters which I was desired to copy, made mistakes in the accounts

which I was ordered to look over, and manifested in every way how far

my thoughts were wandering from the work of my hands. One day I had

been more careless than usual, and after committing several shameful

blunders, was going as usual to ruminate in a solitary walk, when

my uncle entered the room, and with an air of gravity which marked

displeasure, addressed me in the following words:

"Albert, your nightly meetings with two young Irishmen on the heights

of Montmorenci, are known to me. I am not a spy, but it is my duty

to watch over your conduct while you remain under my charge. Take

my advice. The choice is placed before you, between honourable

independence and destruction. The puny attempts of an undisciplined

rabble, and their hot-headed leaders, will recoil upon the agitators

who will not subvert the Empire, but be crushed themselves in ruin.

Begin your reforms in the right way, each with himself, and you will

find work enough to do, I promise you. We have more talent than

principle, now-a-days; virtue is becoming a mere theatrical quality;

modern patriotism is a scenic display; our liberality consists in

profusion of words; and feelings are cultivated for the sake of a

passive impression, not for practical use. The noble exertions, and

still nobler privations arising from self-denial, which elevate man

in the scale of existence, are rarely to be found, and will be more

scarce, I fear, every day. The present fermentation will be suppressed,

but there is a secret adversary silently, yet busily, at work in the

minds of men, which will carry on its operations unseen, till all the

mass is leavened, if the enemy be not exposed before the mischief is

completed. Seek contentment and respectability where they may be found.

I am going, if you will, to make trial of your ability in rather a

delicate business, and send you to Delaware, where I have reason to

think that a man who has possessed himself of some property belonging

to me, is hiding at present. He has stolen papers of great importance,

and if on my explaining the particulars of your mission, you have a

mind to undertake it, and acquit yourself satisfactorily, I shall be

glad to reward your zeal. Perform the journey promptly and diligently,

and it may be the earnest of future advantage to you. To-morrow morning

every thing will be ready, and you will be provided with all the

necessary instructions for your guidance."

I had taken leave of my friends, and as some time must elapse before

I could benefit by their exertions to release me, I was glad of this

temporary diversion to my thoughts, and with my usual self-conceit

resolved immediately on making a great character for cleverness and

dispatch, which might bring pecuniary recompense, and thus set me free.

The person who had absconded, and taken some deeds of consequence

belonging to my uncle away with him, owed him also a large sum of

money. If successful in recovering the booty, I might be presented

with part of it for my pains. Overjoyed with this prospect, fancy set

her loom again at work, and soon wove a golden tissue, which reanimated

my hopes.

END OF VOL. II.

J. B. Nichols, and Son, 25, Parliament-street.

* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained

except in obvious cases of typographical errors.

A Table of Contents was not included in the original text. This has

been added.