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BEAUTIES OF BYRON
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$ebfeto& THE PURGATORY " 0F ~ SUIc1dEs7T...
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THE BALLAD POETRY OF IRELAND. Edited by ...
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* There is a well-authenticated anecdote...
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» Properly eile mo erojdhc, i, e." white...
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; you re , tho barber's son, of Radfoi s...
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Beauties Of Byron
BEAUTIES OF BYRON
so . xn . " CHILDE HABOLD . " The famous stanzas on the Battle of Waterloo im-Z * uteh ibbW those given in our last . These ? i-were re-published in this paper of the 28 tb . oi V . w—it is therefore unnecessary to repeat them { Inthe -reat battle Byron had a friend killed Jm * v / h < iwaiu >) , whose loss he celebrates in the fol-SaEs tu beautiful Hues :-There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee , And mine «« e nothing , bad I such to give ; Bat when I stood beneath the fresh green tree , Wch living waves "here thou didst cease to live , A d s ^ w around me the wide field revive With fruits fertUe P romise > and fte Spring Come forth her work of gladn-. ss to contrive , With ah hrf 'W * 1658 uirds u P on lhe win S » I ( J from all she brought to those she could not bring .
The tree will wither long before it faU ; The l " drives on ' tu 0 U o n mast and sail be torn ; The roof- tree s" * ' nwuldcrs on the hall In massy heaviness ; the ruined waU stands when its wind-worn battlements are gone ; The bars survive the captive they enthrall ; The day drags through though storms keep out the sun ; And thus the heart will break , yet brokenly Hve on : Even as a broken lnirror , which the glass In evtrv Iragment multiplies ; and makes A thousand images of one that was , The same , and stiU the more , the more it breaks ; And thus the heart will do which not forsakes , Living in shattered guise , aud still , aud cold , And bloodless , with its sleepless sorrow aches , Tet withers on till all without is old , SbBwing n » visible sign , for such things are untold .
The subject of Waterloo induces the following re flections on the fallen Gallic conqueror , who , it-must be remembered , was yet living , and , in spite of his hopeless exile , still caused considerable uneasiness to his vanquishers . Magnificent in thought and words is the poet's conception of the character of
NAPOLEON . There sunk the greatest , not tie worst oi men , Whose spirit antithetically mist One moment of the mightiest , and again On little objects with like firmness fist , Extreme in all things . ' hadst thou been betwixt , Thy throne bad stiU been thine , or never been ; Por daring made thy rise as fall : thou seek ' st Even now to re-assume the imperial mien And shake again the world , the Thunderer of the scene ! Conqueror and captive of the earth art thou ! She trembles at thee still , and thy wild name "Was ne ' er more bruited in men's minds than now That thou art nothing , save tlie jest of Fame , Who woo'd thee once , thy vassal , and became The flatterer of thy fierceness , till thou wert A "od uuto thyself ; nor less the same To tlvc astounded kingdoms all inert ,
Who detro'd thee for a time whate ' er thou didst assert . Oh more or less than man—in high or low , Batfliaj with nations , flying from the field—How making monarchs' necks thy footstool , now More than thy meanest soldier taught to yield : An empire thou couldst crush , command , rebuild , But govern not thy pstfiest passion , nor , However deeply in men ' s spirits skill'd , Look through thine own , nor curb the lust of war , Nor learn that tempted Fate will leave the loftiest star Yet welt thy suul hath brook'd the turning tide With that untaught innate philosophy , Which , be it wisdom , coldness , or deep pride , Is gall and wormwood to an enemy . When the whole host of hatred stood bard by , To watch and mock the shrinking , thou hast smiled With a sedate and all-enduriug eye;—When Fortune fled her spoil'd and favourite child , He stood unbow'd beneath the His upon him pil'd .
Sa ; er than in thy fortunes ; for m them Ambition steel'd thee on too far to shew That just habitual scorn , which could contemn Men and their thoughts ; 'twas wise to feel , not so To wear it ever on thy Bps and brow , And spurn the instruments thou wert to use Till they were turn'd unto thine overthrow ; lis but a worthless world to -win or loose ; So hath it proved to thee and all such lot who choose . If , like a tower upon a headlong lock , Thou hadst been made to stand or fall alone , Such scorn of man Lad lielp'd to brave the shock ; But man ' s thoughts were the steps which paved thy throne ,
Their admiration thy best weapon shone ; The part of Philip ' s son was thine , not then { Unless aside thy purple had been thrown ) , lake sura Diogenes to mock at men ; Por sceptred cynics Earth wt-re far too wide a den Bat quiet to quick bosoms is a hell , Aud ttitrc hath been thy bane ; there is a fire And iiuition of the soul which will not dweU la its own narrow being , but aspire Beyond the fitting medium of desire ; And , but once kindled , quenchless ever more , l ' rejs upuu high adventure , uor can tire Bur augiit of rest ; a fever at the core , fatal to him who bears , to all who ever bore .
This makes tlie madmen who have made men mad By their contagion , conquerors and kings , Founders of sects and systems , to whom add Sophists , Bards , Statesmen , all unquiet things Which slir too strongly the soul ' s secret springs , And are themselves the fools to those they fool ; Enried , yet how unenviable ! what stings Are theirs < One btcast laid open were a school Which would unteat-h mankind the lust to shine or rule Their breath is agitation , and their life A stjrm wlnrcou they ride , to sink at last , And yet so nurst and bigotied to Strife , That should their days , surviving perils past , Melt to calm twilight , they feel overcast
With sorroiv and supiueness , and so die ; Even as a flame unfed , which runs to waste "With its own flickering , or a sword laid by , Which eats into i ; self aud rusts iugloriously . He who ascends to mountain tops shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow ; He who surpasses or subdues mankind Must look down on the hate of those below . Though high almc the sun of glory glow , And far beneath the earth and ocean spread , Round bim are icy rocks , and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head , And thus reward the toils which to those summits led
$Ebfeto& The Purgatory " 0f ~ Suic1des7t...
$ ebfeto & THE PURGATORY " 0 F SUIc 1 dEs 7 T Prison iuinu : i > - 'J " ex Hooks . By Thomas Cooper , the Chartist . Loudon : J . How , 132 , FleeUtreet " .
( Continued from the Star of October ISth . J The seventh book is by no means to our liking ; instead of continuing the discussion resumed in the Sixth book , the poet flies off to the collecting of the spirits of other suicides to take part in the ghostly debate . The reader will remember that in the first book is commenced the discussion on the state and destiny of mankind , which discussion is abruptly closedor " adjourned , " in order to allow of other spirits bein >; summoned to take part in the debate , the four following books are occupied with the " bringing up" of the spirits invited to the discussion , and in the sixth book the discussion is re-opened .
Wenaturallv expected to find the discussion continued in the seventh book ; but , instead of this , the poet takes another ghostly cruise to collect more speakers « r listeners for the grand debate . This is bad arrangement . The matter of this book too is decidedly inferior , although , nothing else could be expected , when such worthies as Sornosivs , Tigewjxus , Ps-IBO-MLS AltBITER . AriCIUS , VlIXEXEOTE , MoRDACXT , and Llmley arc the characters introduced : certainly these names are not very inspiring . As usual , the reflective passages in which the poetspeaks in propia persomia arc tlie best . The following : stanzas open the " book : "—
London ! how imaginable seems the strife Of thy huge crowds amid this solitude ! Instinct with hot , heart-feverous , throbbing life-Racers fur Mammon—day by dav renewed—Quick , motley actors in Mind ' s interlude—They flit before me ; or , again , 1 walk Wonder-lost less with glare and magnitude Of mindless things than human shapes that stalk Through thy vast wilderness of ways , and , sniuing , talk With their own wretchedness which hath estran-ed Them from their kind , but cannot stifle dreams ° That Beggary ' s rags sbaB , one day , be exchanged Por Grandeur ' s robes , and fortune ' s favouring beams Gild their last hours . These , these , amid thy streams Of populonsness , thy lavish shews of pride , And pomp , and equipage , were living themes "For healthiest thought that did my foBy chide Wlien J , along tby streets , a gazing ' venturer , hied .
Oh 1 if the heart doth crave for loneliness , Deep in thy crowded desart it may find Its drear wish realised . In Misery ' s dress—Their blighted visages to humankind A pregnant lesson , but their names enshrined , Perchance in secresy—how stealthily Such hermits of tlie heart glide on behind The bustling men of gain , or groups of glee That sweU thy blended throngs of thrift and gaiety ! Oft nave I followed such a stealthy form , To mark bis whereabout of rest or home , Until lie plunged into some haunt where swarm-In dingy dens , that shadow forth the gloom Of hearts within—what the World calls its " scum " Victims ofgilded fraud , and titled lust , And pensioned knavery ! "Will it e ' er come—The hour when Man shaU venture to be just , And dare to give true names unto bis fellow-dust ! Age after age iatli pazed the eager throng—As , now , 1 seem , again , to see it gaze-
$Ebfeto& The Purgatory " 0f ~ Suic1des7t...
Heedless of moral worth , or right or wrong , "While haughty Pomp unclosed its newest blaze Of tear-wrung splendour : sod , perchance , to praise Of garish shew , blame for grsat gold misspent Hath followed , as it follows now : yet , raise The trump of pageantry—and-ears are lent By thousands who lisp scorn for Time ' s old rabblement t Will knowledge , freedom , moral growth of man , Strip off these swaddling-bands of gauze—these chai n * Of gossamer ? This baby-talisman"Will it much longer charm the child of pains And sweat , to leave his bread-toil ? Oh ! there reigns-Of strength in Labour ' s millions , a young breath That gaunt Starvation quells not—but sustains ! Where , now , my memory wanders , may its wrath Jfe ' er burst!—Monarch;—adown thy stately palace-path I
I saw thee on the day thou wast a bride—And shouted , ' mid my joy-tears , with the crowd : — Thou wert a woman—and thou satt ' st beside Thyr bosom ' s choice—while happiness o ' erflowed Thy heart , and in thy f . ir young countenance glowed Beholding thine , what could I less than feel A sympathetic joy ! Aye , though a proud Worship of England ' s stern old Commonweal Was mine—for thee , that day , I breathed devotion leal . And many a heart , yielding , that festive day , To Nature's impulses of hope and joy , Confiding , blessed thee ! Queen ! if thou delay To help thy Poor—if thou , thyself , destroy Tlie promise of that time , and harsh alloy
Of blame with memory of our joy now blend—What marvel 1 Hopes , that do the heart upbuoy , Turned to despair by sufferings slighted , rend AH gentle feelings in their way to some dire end . When nest thou passeth by Whitehall , look up , I pray thee , and remember who felt there The fatal axe ! Aye , look!—nor be the dupe Of tinselled traitors who would thee ensnare To ease and grandeur , till—thy People's prayer For justice all too long delayed—they rise With that old heart the Stuart to despair Drove , first—and , then , to vengeance ! Hunger cries Taroughou thy realm— " Queen . ' from the fearful Pastbe wise ' . "
I know that teUers of plain truths are " Goths' * And " savages" in their esteem who haunt The halls of royalty—the pageant moths That flutter in thy beams—the sycophant , The beau , the corouetted mendicant : — "Set , speak 1 not from brutal nature;—nor Is thirst for violence fell habitant Of Labour ' s children's hearts . Queen 1 they who store Thy mind with such belief wrong grievously thy Poor ! ¦ Believe one born amid their daily toils And sighs—and , since , observant of the words And deeds of those who live on Labour's spoils : — Thy Poor , itis— and not their haughty lords—In whose hearts vibrate gentle Nature ' s chords Of tenderness for thee—ev'n while they groan With deepest wrongs . " We suffer by the hordes " Of selfish ones , " they say , " that hide the throne : " If she could jfotow our woes—we should not , vainly , moan I "
Lady ! ' tis thus the hunger-bitten ones Their simple , lingering trust in thee express : — Let : by heart answer , ' mid superb saloons And soldiered pomp—with truth and faithfulness—If thou deserv ' st this trust from comfortless And bread-pinched millions ! Wouldst thou read aright Thy glory 1 Seek to be the heritress Of love deserved—choosing , with noble slight Of gauds , to make the Poor ' s heart-smile thy sole delight . Alas ! in vain thus breathes a rebel thrall Fond wish that , now a thousand years have rolled , To Alfred's land it might , once more , befall That SUU of human glories to
behold—A monarch scorning blood-stained gauds and gold ,. To build the throne in a blest People ' s love ' . It may not he ! Custom , soul-numbing , cold , Her web hath round thee , from thy cradle wove : — Can heart of a born-thrall with pulse of Freedom move 1 Deadly , mind-blighting influences begird Tb . ee daily , hourly : 'tis thy lot . A gaol Is mine . Thus far , our lot how like 2—the herd Of titled , starred , and sworded things , that fail Not to enclose thee in their watchful pale . Are but thy chief and under-turnkeys . T hou By birth , for lift—and I , by force—this bale Of bondage prove . Rebel , or Queen , we bow Alike to circumstance : our mould to it we owe .
The somewhat dull dialogue in which the spirits of Messr 3 . MoRnAUXT , p £ TRosius , Apicius , andCo . engage , is interrupted by the appearance of the famed Robert Lk JIiahle , who makes his appearance to summon them to the grand debate . In the course of his address his opera devilship discourses not amiss , as witness the following : — I tell ye that on earth all natural iU Begins to yield to science : fell disease Is checked—and men shall soon begin to fill Tli' expansive measure of their days . The seas Already own the power of Mind : with ease ilea vault above tlie wave , fearing no rage
Of giant storms . On land , the very breeze That vital is , they hold in vassalage , And yoke , by viewless chains , unto the thought-winged sledge . Mindgbws and fulmines even in the clown ; And men from yoke conventional and old Shake themselves free : the crosier and the crown , The sword and gun , all men begin to hold For useless and pernicious things , and bold The very peasants be to laugh aloud At swollen names of gew-gaw shapes in gold . Think ye that changes such as these forbode No change for Hades , aud her kings and pomp-thrones proud ?
I-teH ye , Change hath come : judgment condign Haih fallen on the essences ot kings Who raged to hear deep sage and bard divine Tell , in prophetic strain , pomp-glisterings Should pass away , and spirit-liomagings Be paid to Mind and Goodness . Where the bow Of promise skietb . mystic symbollings Of monarch-splendour , forfeiture I saw Of thrones , white congregated ghost-kings shook with awe . ( To becontinued . )
The Ballad Poetry Of Ireland. Edited By ...
THE BALLAD POETRY OF IRELAND . Edited by Chakles Gavax Duffi . Dublin : Duffy , Anglesea-street . The contents of this work are less objectionable than , judging by its title , and the political reputation of Ak . Duffv , we had expected . As the proprietor of the Nation newspaper , Mr . Duffy is well known as the ardent and unscrupulous advocate of what is called " Irish Nationality . " We say " unscrupulous advocate , " for Air . Duffv , through his paper , has not scrupled to employ the most detestable means to effect the end himself , and the party associated with him have in view . In proof of this we only need remind our readers , that from the day the first number oftheAWoii appeared , to the present time , a
systematic hostility towards England , Englishmen , and all that is English , has been unceasingly preached up by the writers in that paper . From the days of fhe invasion by Sirosgbow , to the present time , every fact and every fable belonging to Irish history , or Irish tradition , calculated to tell against England , has been industriously raked up to excite the hatred of Irishmen against Englishmen . Week after week have we had served up the thousand times told tales of Wexford slaughters , Mullaghmast massacres , breaches of Limerick treaties , & c , which things occurred generations and generations ago , yet are now revived for the fiendish purpose of exciting animosity against the present generation of Englishmen . Nor have the writers in the Nation at all distinguished
between tne acts of the Norman oppressors of the Saxon people of England , and the people themselves . Even when denouncing present oppression , it is never the English Government as contradistinguished from the English people , on whom falls the weight of Irish denunciation ; it is always " England" and the " Saxon" who are the objects of ' * Young Ireland's " wrath . Of course this is quite consistent with the declared object of Mr . Duffv and his friends , that of separating Ireland from England . Everybody in England now understands perfectly well what "Irish nationality" means—it means Ireland independent , separate , and hostile . The blarney of that consummate charlatan O'Coxxeix— "the golden link of the crown" uniting the two countries , is understood by
every one in England to be unadulterated fudge . Once a Parliament in College-green , the " golden link" would soon be snapt . This would trouble us but little , provided another sort of link bound the two countries together—the link of common brotherhood—that , however , Mr . Duffv and Co . are doing their best lo render impossible . It must be admitted that Mr . Dcfft and his friends appear in a favourable IMitwhen contrasted with O'Coxnell : the former we believe to be honest in their professed desire to re-establish the nationality of Ireland , but 0 Cosselx . has no such desire ; his sole ambition is to maintain his rule as chief mountebank on his " conciliation stage , and plunder to their lastfarthing the wretched dupes who witness hisantics and applaud his ravings . His creed and his rule
is"Kbumbug'd thus the rabble choose to be , Why let them , since it brings the chink to me ; There ' s none so blind as those who will not see I " Mr . Doffv , on the other hand , we believe to be thoroughly in earnest in Ms hatred of England , and in his desire to make Ireland a " nation ; " he is therefore quite consistent in doing his utmost , whether by prose or poetry ^ fact or fiction , to inspire his countrymen with hatred of the land be regards as an enemyi Quite consistent too is he in
labouring to inspire them with the barbaric thirst for " glory , " in celebrating the victories of Iri 3 U ~ men from Clontarfto Fontenoy ,. No matter whether it was to serve Ireland or despotism : whether it waste beat baek the Danes * drive out the English * re- ^ stabUaa the tyrant Ciiajh , es , restore : the imbecile James , or extend the mfewaldespotism of tie FreneO Louis ; no matter whether the Irish fought as patriots slaves , or mercenaries , their " viotori . « a ^ ' ¦ bate been recited and held up for admiration audi imitation by the poets of tfe Ntttw ^ This is , sBiaU-i iu pursuit
The Ballad Poetry Of Ireland. Edited By ...
of his darling " Bationality , " Mr . Duffv . and his party contemplate the restoring of the old Irish language in substitutioni of the English tongue now generally spoken , "with variations , " throughout Ireland . This surely is the sublime of absurdity . As well might George Washington have set about restoring the language of the aborigines of America , or as well might Joseph Mazzimi propose the restoration of the Latin tongue as the language of the people of Italy , as one of the means-for restoring the liberties of his country . Indeed , such a proposition would have much more of reason in it than has the proposition of Mr . Duffy and his friends ; the Latin tongue has been , and is yet to a great extent , the universal language of the educated
classes , but can the same be said of the Irish language ? No ! But this design is something more than absurd , it is wicked ; . it is an attempt to make civilization retrogress . The " confusion of tongues" is the worst curse under which mankind labour , it serves to make strangers and enemies of even those who , by their position , are neighbours , and should be brothers . The advance of civilization has , as regards a few nations , corrected this evil . The English , the Welsh , the Scotch , the Irish , and the North-Americans , now generally speak but one tongue . Mr . Duffv would isolate Ireland ; he would have his countrymen speak a language which no ^ other nation in the world could comprehend . Instead of this , if Mr . Duffy was a true patriot , he would
rather labour to make the nations of one language and one speech . We are convinced that universal freedom and universal brotherhood , and the consequent ending of senseless wars and brutal conquests , ia only attainable through the adoption of some language which shall be spoken by all nations . We care net whether it be the English , the French , the German , or any other language , so that there bo some one tongue agreed upon . Even Irish , if that was practicable , we would just as soon have it as any other ; but we suppose Mr . Duffv , even in his wildest dreams , does not anticipate more than the restoration of Irish as a local language . It needs not , however , the gift of prophecy to foretel , that even in that anticipation he will , happily for the human race , be disappointed . We have said that Mr . Duffy is honest . He is , we believe , honestly the exponent of his own prejudices , and the
champion of his own class . But what would he do for the working class ? His cry is , « ' Ireland for the Irish ;" that Is , the Irish aristocracy , the Irish middle-class , and the Irish priesthood , but not the Irish workingclass , the veritable people . There would be a parliament in College-green , a resident aristocracy , the Irish language restored , statues Of King Datiiy and King Dan , Brian Bonn and Smith O'Brien (!); a " national flag , " and plenty of the " glory" and " poetry " of " nationality ; " there would be all these under the new regime , yet the working classes would be as void of a country as they are now . Mr . Duffv and his friends would not even give the people a voice in tlie eheosing of the country ' s legislators—at least , if they would they have not the courage to avow their intentions ; and as to a radical reform of social arrangements , without which all other so-called reforms are but mockeries and delusions to the mass of the people , of such reform Mr . Duffy and his friends seem never
te have thought : they are too much occupied with gloating over the records of the barbaric past , to attend to the greatest of all questions which must inevitably agitate the future . In short , the one idea of Mr . Duffy appears to be " Ireland independent of England . " To that end he re-kindles the animosities of the past , excites race against race , and nation against nation . To that , end he courts the alliance of the ambitious and unscrupulous partisans of war and conquest in France and America , caring not who suffers in the contest he desires to see commenced , so that he can see England struck at , and , if possible , struck down . To that esd he would isolate Ireland from the other nations by reviving an extinct Ianguage , now happily laid in " the tomb of all the
Capulets . These things Mr . Duffv and his party would do , but they will fail . They may partially succeed for a time , but the very means they are at present employing will ultimately produce results very different to tfiose they contemplate . They arc diffusing knowledge , and in this they arc doing a mighty good . That knowledge they design shall mar instead of accelerate man's progress , but this design cannot but ultimately fail . Irishmen will by-and-bye learn that men of all nations are brothers , and that their only real and formidable enemies are men of their own country and name . With these impressions of Mr . Duffy , we expected on opening this little book to find it brimful of blood and thunder against the " Saxon , " We
knew what were the songs and ballads of the Nation , and we expected that the contents of this volume would be of a similar character . That the songs and ballads of the Nation are rich in genuine poetry we cheerfully acknowledge ; but their spirit and design is most objectionable and detestable . We are happy to say , that this volume of " Ballads" is not of the same character . True , there is a plentifuf allowance of the anti-Saxon spirit in many of the political ballads , but these speak the feelings of a bygone period which were then natural and justifiable —feelings which are unnatural and unjustifiable now . But this volume consists not merely of political ballads , there are some of a domestic character , full of sentiment and pathos which cannot fail to deeply impress the hearts of all who read them .
The collection before us consists entirely of ballads , and not of songs ; between which Mr . Duffy draws this distinction—that " by a ballad is to be understood a short lyrical narrative poem , and by a song , a lyrical poem of sentiment or passion . " Many of tlie ballads are very beautiful , the non-political the most so . The political ballads , indeed , are nearly all very inferior to those which have appeared in the Nation With the exception of the few translations from the ancient Irish , all the ballads are of very modern date . A well-written introduction , written by Mr . Duffy , precedes the ballads . Mr . D . cites the healthy and soul-invigorating influence of the songs and ballads of Burns upon the Scottish people as a proof of the good thatmay be accomplished by cultivating amongst
the people a taste for genuine poetry . " Every househoid in Scotland , from the peasant-farmer ' s upwards , as Lockhart proudly assures us , has its copy of Burns lying side by side with the family bible . The young men , nurtured upon this strong food , go forth to contend with the world ; and in every kingdom of the earth they are to be found filling posts of trust and honour , trustfully and honourably . " And again , speaking of Burns , Mr . Duffy says , " lie wooed poetry from the saloon and the library to become household among the poorest peasantry iu Europe , elevated the uncouth dialect of his native hills to be familiar to fifty millions of men among the most powerful and civilised of modern nations . And in this nationality lay his strength not alone among
his own people , but among all people . Ihs English songs are comparatively neglected ; nis Scotch songs , with their provincial and unpronounceable phraseology , are in the mouths of more men' than spoke his native tongue when he began to mould it into rustic verse . " We demur to the alleged fact that Bunxs's English songs arc " comparatively neglected , " but we admit , that even amongst the English , his Scotch songs , so far as they are understood , are the most popular . But it is impossible this should be because of their " nationality . " The fact is , the songs of Burns , whether Scotch or English , are more cosmopolitan than national—thev speak to the hearts of men of all
countries and climes , and hence their universal popularity . The most " national" song of Burks is his famous " Scot ' s wha hae wi' Wallace bled ; " jet that song is as popular in England as in Scotland . At every Chartist festival hofden in this country that song is invariably sung . Bruce and Edward are forgotten , Bannockburn is hardly remembered ; but as the song rings through the festival hall , all , without regard to country , join in the thrilling strain " Let us do or die . " Shakspeare wrote in English , and Burns in Scotch , but botli are the poets of the world . We shall best give our readers an idea of the poetical beauties of the volume by the following selections : —
WAKE OF WILLIAM ORR . 31 V DH . MIENNAN , f The case of William Orr involves one of the most ruthless acts of tyranny that preceded the insurrection of 1798 . Orr , who was a yjung Presbyetrian farmer of Antrim , and a man of great personal popularity , was tried and convicted in October , ' 97 , of administering the United Irish oath to a private soldier , named Whitly , But on the same day , four of his jury made affidavits stating that whisky bad been introduced into the jury room , and the verdict agreed to under the joint influence of drunkenness and intimidation . Next day Whitly , the crown witness , confessed that his evidence was false , or distorted in essential particulars . Under these strange circumstances , Orr was reprieved by government ; and
the reprieve twice renewed . But , ultimately , when the nation confidently awaited the commutation , of his sentence , he was ordered for execution . A storm of indignation followed this arbitrary and merciless decision . The most moderate men were outraged by its injustice ; the most timid were stung to resistance by its naked tyranny . Orr died with unshaken courage , exhorting his countrymen - 'to be true and faithful to each other , as be had been true to them . " His fortitude increased popular enthusiasm lo a passion . He was universally regarded as a martyr tojaberty ; and " Remember' Orr ! . " became the most popular and stimulating watch-wosd of the national party . His death was celebrated in innumerable elegies , of which these noble and affecting vesses are the best . 1
Here our murdered brother lies ! Wake him not with women ' s cries . Mourn the way that manhood ought ; Sit in silent trance of thought . Write bis merits oa your mind ; Morals pure and manners kind ; In his head as on a hill , Virtue plac ' u her citadel . Why cut off in palmy youth ? Truth he spoke , and acted truth . Countrymen , unite ! he cry * d ; < And died—for what his Saviour died
God of Peace , and God of Love , iet it not thy vengeance move , Let it not thy lightnings draw ; A nation guillo . tin'U bylaw .
The Ballad Poetry Of Ireland. Edited By ...
Hapless nation I . rent , and torn , Thou wert early taught to mourn . Warfare of Bi & hundred years ! Epochs marked with blood and tears Hunted through thy native grounds , Or flung reward to human bounds ; Each one pull'd and tore his share , Heedless of thy deep despair . Hapless nation—hapless land . Heap of uncementiug sand ! Crumbled by a foreign weight ; And by worse—domestic bate . God © f mercy ! God of peace ! Make the mad confusion cease ; O ' er the mental chaos move , Through it speak the light of love .
Monstrous and unhappy sight ! Brothers' blood will not unite ; Holy oil and holy water , Mix , and fill the world with slaughter W ho is she with aspect wild ? The widow'd mother with her child , Shild new stirring in the womb ! Husband waiting for the tomb ! Angel of this sacred place ,. Calm her soul and whisper peace , Cord , or axe , or Guillotin , Make the sentence—not the sin .
Here we watch our brother ' s sleep ; W ' atch with us , but do not weep ; Watch with us thro * dead of night , But expect the morning light . Conquer fortune—persevere!—Lo ! it breaks , the morning clear ! The cheerful cock awakes the skies , The day is come—arise J—arise ! [ Dr . Drennan , the author of this ballad , was one of the ablest writer * among the United Irishmen . His Letters of Ortltaia contributed powerfully to enlist Ulster in " the
Union . ' His songs and ballads , which were chiefly directed to the same object , are vigorous and graceful beyond any political poetry of the period . His song commencing "When Erin first rose from the dark swelling flood , " which fixed upon Ireland tho title of the "Emerald Isle , " Moore esteems among the most perfect of modern songs . A little volume of his poems was published in 1815 , but is now very scarce . In 1794 , he was brought to trial for his political principles ; but then , or throughout a long and honoured life , he never abandoned ihem . l
In his selection of" Irish" ballads Mr . Ddpfv very properly gives specimens of the Orange ballads . The famous " Battle of tlie Boyne" is very poor ; " Oliver ' s Advice" is much superior . We give a few of the verses of this last as the ballad is a literary curiosity in this country ;—
OLIVER'S ADVICE . AN CHANGE BALLAD , BY COLONEL BLACKER . The night is gathering gloomily , the day is closing fast—The tempest flaps his raven wings in loud and angry blast ; The thunder clouds are driving athwart the lurid sky-But , "put your trust in God , my boys , aud keep your powder dry . " * There was a day when loyalty was hail'd with honour due , Our banner the protection wav'd to all the good and
true—And gallant hearts beneath its folds were link'd in honour ' s tie—We put our trust in God , my boys , and kept our powder dry . When treason bared her bloody arm , and madden ' d round the land , For kings , and laws , and order fair , we dreir the ready brand ; Our gathering spell was William ' s name—our word was " do or die , " And still we put our trust in God , and kept our powder dry . The ballad goes on to lament the change that has taken place in "loyal" men being discountenanced , and " traitors" appointed to rule the land . This was written in 1834 , when the Whigs were in the ascendant , and that party were beginning to caress O'Coskkll : —•
They come , whose deeds incarnadin'd the Sidney s Silver wave—• They come , who to the foreign foe the hail of welcome gave ; He comes , the open rebel fierce—he comes the Jesuit sly ; But put your trust in God , my boys , and keep your powder dry . They come , whose counsels wrapp'd the land in foul rebellious flame , Their hearts unchastenad by remorse , their cheeks unting'd by shame . Be still , be still , indignant heart—be tearless , too , each eye , And put your trust in God , my boys , and keep your powder dry ,
We pass over some of the most " ultra-religious " verses , in which it is difficult to decide whether " God , " " Great William , " or that old imbecile bigot the " Earl of Roden , " has the greatcstsharc of praise ; the following arc the two concluding verses : — Then cheer , ye hearts of loyalty , nor sink in dark despair , Our banner shall again unfold its glories to the air , The storm that raves the wildest , the soonest passes by ; Then put your trust in God , my boys , aud keep your poivderdry . For "happy homes , " for "altars free , " we grasp the ready sword , For freedom , truth , and for our God ' s unniutilated word . These , these the war-cry of our march , our hope the Lord on high ! Then put your trust in God , my boys ,. and keep your powder dry . Much more to our taste arc the-following simple , but beautiful and pathetic lines : —
THE PATRIOT MOTHER . A BALLAD OF ' !) 8 . " Come , toll us the name of the rebclly crew , Who lifted the pike on the Curragb with you ; Come , tell us their treason , and then you'll be free , Or , by heavens , you shall swing from the high gallows tree . " " Alamia . ' Alanna ! the shadow of shame Has never yet fallen upon one of your name ; And oh ! may the food from my bosom you drew ,
In your veins turn to poison , it you turn untrue . " The foul words—oh ! let them not blacken your touguo . That would prove to your friends and your country a wrong , Or the curse of a mother , so bitter and dread , With the wrath of the Lord—may they fall on your head i " I have no one but you in the whole world wide , Yet false to your pledge you'd ne ' er stand at my side ; If a traitor you liv'd , you'd be farther away Yroui my heart than , if true , you were wrapp'd in the clay .
" Oh I deeper and darker the mourning would be , Por your falsehood so base , than your death proud and free , Beaver , far dearer than , ever to me , My darling , you'll be on the brave gallows tree . " 'Tis holy , agra , from the bravest and best—Go ! go ! from my heart , and be join'd by the rest , Alama , machree ! 0 , alannartMichree ! Sure a ' stag' f aud a traitor you never will be . " There's no look of a traitor upon tho young brow That ' s raised to the tempters so haughtily now ; No traitor e ' er held up the firm head so high—No traitor e ' er sbow'd such a proud flashing eye . On the high gallows tree 1 . on the brave gallows tvee ! Where smil'd leaves and blossoms , his sad doom met he ; But it never hove blossom so pure or so fair , As the heart of the martyr that hangs from it there . Here is a beautiful ballad combining tho poetical with the descriptive : —
GOUGAUNE EARRA .. BY J .. J . A . CALLAHAN . [ " The lake of Gougaune Bavra , in th * west-end of the county Cork , is the parent of the River Lee . "J There is a green island in , lone Gougaune-Barra , Where Alina of song rushes forth as an arrow ; In deep-valued Desmond—a thousand wild fountains Come down to that lake , from , their home in the moun . tains . There grews the wild ash ,, and a time-stricken willow Looks chidingly down on . the mirth of the billow :
As , like some gay chilcythat sad monitor scorning , It lightly laughs back to-the laugh of the morning . and iis zone of dark hills—oh t to see them all brigbtning , Whea the tempest flings out its red banner of lightning , And the waters rush down , ' mid the thunder ' s deep rattle lake clans from tbeir hills at the voice of the battle ; And brightly the fire-crested billows are gleaming , And wildly , from Mullagh , the eagles are screaming . Oh ! . where is the dwelling , in valley or highland , So meet for a bard as this lone little island .
How oft , when tne summer SUU rested Oil Clttrfl , And lit the dark heath on the hills of Ivera , Have I sought thee , sweet spot , from my home . By the ocean , And trod all thy wilds with a minstrel's devotion . And thought of thy bards , when assembling togethM , In the cleft of thy rocks , or the depth of the-heather ? They fied from the Saxon's dark bondage and slaughter , And waked their last song by the rush oi thy water . High son ' s of the lyre , oh ! how proud was the feeling , To think , while alone through that solitude stealing , Though loftier minstrels Green Erin can number , I only awoke your wild harp from its slumber ; The songs even echo forgot ou her mountains , ' And mingled once more with the voice of those foun tains ,
* There Is A Well-Authenticated Anecdote...
* There is a well-authenticated anecdote of Cromwell . On a certain occasion , when his troops were about crossing a mer to attack the enemy , he concluded an , address , couched m the usual fanatic terms in use among them , with these words- «< put your trust in God . ; but mind to keep your powder dry , " t" Slag . " an informer .
* There Is A Well-Authenticated Anecdote...
Ana gletn'd eaeh grey legend that darkly wag sleeping Where the mist and the rain where their beauty or creeping . Least bard of the hills ! were ft mine to inherit The fire of thy harp , and wing of thy spirit ; With the wrongs which , liko thee , to our country has bound me , Did your mantle of song fling its radiance around me . Still , stiU , on those wilds mi ght young Liberty rally , And send her strong shouts over mountain and valley ; The star of the west mi ght yet rise in its glory , And tho land that was darkest be brightest in story . I , too , shall be gene—but my mime shall be spoken When Erin awakes , and her fetters are broken ; Some minstrel shall come , in the summer-eve ' s gleaming , When freedom ' s young light on his spirit is beaming , And bend o ' er my grave with a tear of emotion : Where calm Avon-Buce seeks the kisses of ocean , Or plant a wild wreath , from the banks of that river , O ' er the heart , and the harp , that are sleeping for ever .
It is our opinion that the following ballad is the most truly- beautiful in the book ; the man who can read it with an unmoistened eye is not to be envied : —
LAMENT OF THE IRISH EMIGRANT BY THE HON . MBS . PBICE BLACKWOOD . I'm 3 ittin' on the stile , Alary , Where we sat side by side On the bright May mornin' long ago , When first you were my bride : The corn was springin' fresh and green , And the lark sang loud and high—And tho red was on your lip , Mary , And the love-light iu your eye . The place is little changed , Mary , The day is bright as then , The lark ' s loud song is in my car , And the corn is green again ; But I miss the soft clasp of your hand , And your breath , warm on my cheek , And I still keep list ' nin' for the words , You never more Will speak . 'Tis but a step down yonder lane ,
And the little church stands near , The church wiure we were wed , Mary , I see the spire from here . But the grave . yard lies between , 3 fary , And my step might break your rest—For I ' ve laid you , darling ! down to sleep With your baby on your breast , I ' m very lonely now , Mary , For the poor make no new friends , But , oh ! they love the better still , The few our father sends ! And you were all i had , Mary , My bkssin' and my pride ; There ' s iiothiu' lelt to care for now , Since my poor Mary died . Your ' s was the good , brave heart , Mary , That still kept hoping on , When the trust in God had left my soul ,
Ana my arm ' s young strength was gone ; There was comfort ever on your lip , And the kind look on your brow—I bless you , Mary , for that same , Though you cannot hear me now . I thank you for the patient smile When your heart was fit to break , When the huuger-paiu was gnawin' there , And you hid it , tor my sake ! I bless you for the pleasant word , When your heart was sad and sore- * Oh ! I ' m thankful you are gone , Mary , Where grief can't reach you more . '
I ' m biddin'you a long farewell , My Mary—kind aud true ! But I'll not forget you , darling ! In the land I ' m goin' to ; They say there ' s bread and work for all , And the sun shines always there—But I'll not forget old Ireland , Were it fifty times as fair ! And often in those grand old woods I'll sit , and shut my eyes , And my heart will travel back again To the place where Mary lies : And I'll think I see the little stile Where we sat side by side : And the springin' corn , and the bright > Iay morn , When first you were my bride .
We fully agree with Mr . Duffy , that some of Griffin's simpJe ballads are gushes of feeling that smite the heart like the cry of a woman . Such is his " Gilk Muchree , " a strain of the noblest sentiment in the simplest language : —
GILLE MACHREE . BY gebald griffin . Author of " The Collegians , " ic . [ Gerald Griffin stands in the first rank of Irish novelists . If the natural bent of his genius had not been crossed by weak counsel and baffled hopes , he might have become our greatest native poet . Poetry was his first inspiration , and he loved it to tho last ; but it was a passion only , it never became an art to him . While he was still a boy drifting in his boat on the Shannon , and planning a career of great achievements , he had already designed a series of tragedies , to . which it is now certain his powers were fully adequate . But a life of feverish anxieties , of slavish drudgery for London booksellers and London newspapers , of killing uncertainty and disappointments , aggravated .
by his own anxious and sensitive nature , left him no leisure for the development of his great designs . After toiling for ten years he retreated from the world , took refuge in the society of Christian Brothers , and devoted himself to works of morality and education , till a fever fell upon him . in 1810 , of which he died in the prime of his powers . Since his death one of the tragedies designed in his boyhood , and completed among tho tumult of his distracting engagements , was produced on the London stage , and pronounced to be "the greatest drama of our times . " His poems have been since collected in a volume , and attained to instant popularity . These were but fragments of his projected works . But they afford sure indications that if it had been his fate to live at home , iu peace , honour , and enjoyment , his attainment to the first place among our dramatic poets , was easy and certain . ]
GtUe machree , * Sit down by me , We now are joined and ne ' er shall sever ; This hearth ' s our own Our hearts are one And peace is ours for ever ! When I was poor , Your father ' s door Was closed against your constant lover ; With care and pain , I tried in vain My fortunes to recover . I said , " To other lands I'll roam , Where Fate may smile on me , love ;" I said , " FareweU , my own old home ' . " And I said , " Farewell to thee , love !" Sing Qilk machree , tc .
I might have said , My mountain maid , Come Hve with me , your own true lover ; I know a spot , A silent cot , Your friends can ne ' er discover , Where gently flows the waveless tide By one small garden only ; Where the heron waves his wings so wide , And the linnet sings so lonely ! . Sing Gitte machree , < t-c .
I might have said , My mountain maid , A father ' s right was never given True hearts to curse With tyrant force That have been blest in heaven . But then , I said , " In after years , When thoughts of home shall fiudliev ! My love may mourn with secvet'teuvs Her friends , thus left behind her . " Sing Gille machree , < fcc .
Oh , no , 1 said , My own dear maid , For me , though all forlorn , for ever , That heart of thine ShaU ne ' er repine O ' er slighted duty—never . Prom home and thee though wandering fai A dreary-fate be mine , love ; I'd rather live in endless war , Thanbuy my peace with thine , love . Sing Gille machree ,. ike .
Far , far away , By night and day , I toiled to win a golden treasure ; And golden gains Repaid my pains In fair and shining measure . I sought again my native land , Thy father welcomedme , love ; I poured my gold into his hand , Aud my guerdon found in thee , Iovo ; Sing GUI * machree Sit down by me , We now are joined , and ne ' er shall sever ; This hearth ' s our own , Our hearts are one , And paaee is ours for ever .
In conclusion we should . state that this volume of " Ballad Poetry" is one of a series of monthly volumes now issuing under tlie title of " Duffy ' s Library of Ireland . " The volumes are published monthly , and sold for a shilling . This volume , is the only one of the series we have seen . It ia beautifully printed , and deserves , what it will doubtless have , , a-very extensive circulation . Protesting against Mt .. I > ufby ' s " nationality " -mania , we neYertnelesa warmly recommend this work to our readers ,
» Properly Eile Mo Erojdhc, I, E." White...
» Properly eile mo erojdhc , i , e . " whiteness of roy heart "
» Properly Eile Mo Erojdhc, I, E." White...
A Sckne !—A young man , visiting Nottinghan the pleasures of tfie Jate lair , having a taste for t trlcals , saw a board outside one of the strol theatres . During the day , he applied to them ger to give him permission to take a part in the pi assuring him that he was quite competent . Pen sion was granted accordingly , and when the t came for his appearance , he strutted forth and c menced , " I am the King of Bohemia ! " " You '
; You Re , Tho Barber's Son, Of Radfoi S...
; you re , tho barber ' s son , of Radfoi shouted one of the audience ( who proved to be an acquaintance of his Majesty ) , and , amidst roars laughter , the Bohemian monarch made his exit , tenng threats of vengeance . ' A Nice Point . —The Bishop of Exeter has gi it as his opinion that a clergyman speculating railways conies under the statute against " deal tor gain or profit . " As the statute only says deal —and railway speculation involves rather shuffl than dealing—some of the reverend Stags maint that they do not violate the Act of Parliament Punch .
JOXATIIAX OUTIUVALLED . —J . SM 5 OF WlOUT . —1 inhabitants of the eastern part of our island hf loiliT DGen . celebrated for their sagacity , and 1 natives of Saint Helen ' s have recently discovers successful method of catching rabbits in the nigl which certainly by no means diminishes their p : viously acquired celebrity . It appears tliathavi secured a number of the crustacean sneeies , wlii are vulgarly denominated in the island " King Crabs they affix about an inch of candle to their bacl and send them crawling into the rabbits * burrow the _ animals being alarmed at the appearance their enlightened visitors , make a speedy exit , a are immediately captured by the invaders . T plan is far preferable to the old method which practiced on the southern coast . The Nitton ecnt
men scatter a quantity of snufFat the mouth of thi holes , covering it with green parsley , of which t game is remarkably fond . On partaking of the dc cious herbage , they are seized with such a fit sneezing that they invariably beat their brains c against the rocks , but are by these violent lliea rendered unfit for market . —Hampshire Indvpcnden Rather Difficult . —A member of the Vermo Legislature rising to reply to a very frothy ai ignorant orator on the other side , said— " M Speaker , I can't reply to thtit ' ore speech , for always wrenches me terribly to kick at nothing . " A Shocking Saist !—St . Goderic , according to tl Romish Calendar , was a severe anchorite reclusi he wore an iron shirt next his shin , and wore 01 three by constant use , Ho mingled ashes with h flour , and kept it for months before he ato it .
MOB MELODIES . ( From the Tyne Mercury . ) " For the patience with which they endured their suffe ings , the people deserved all praise and admiration . "— S Robert Peel ' s Speech , 1813 . " If any man should take viands to satisfy bis prcscl hunger , this is no felony or larceny . "—Lord Bacon ' s La Tracts . Tune— "Miss Bailey ' s Ghost . " In days of old , as we are told , as long as they were able The man was deck'd in most respect who lived most COH fortable . But now , alas ! it comes to pass they ' ve ta ' en to prab starvation , And those who die most quietly get " praise and adm ration , " " Praise and admiration ! Praise and admiration !" Yea , those who die most quietly , get " Praise and adm ration !"
'Tis sure amiss when stuff like this for doctrine sage : taken , Be it our plan to praise the man , so well ' yclept Lor Bacon ! He knew his trade ; and thus he said , as plain as wori could make it , " If Beef enow don't come to you , then go to it—and tal it !" Go to it—and take it , go to it—and take it . " " If Beef enow don't come to you , e ' en go to it—and tal it !"
To make good laws deserves applause ; anil of all thinf in nature We may well rest the very best is a wise legislator ! But all their Acts must look to Facts , if they have at good in ; And lawyers still , for " Preamble , " must give us Bei and Pudding , Must give us Beef and Pudding—give us Beef an Pudding—The lawyers still , for " Preamble , " must give us Beef an Pudding . A Briton ' s maw won't live on law , or no such wine ration ; We don ' t get on—not e ' en with constitutional starvatioi And comfort small we see at all in such unholy Ler
sirs , Tho' folks observe that we so starve by " Act of Parli ment , ' Sirs , " Act of Parliament , " sirs ! " Act of Parliament sirs . ' Tho'folks observe , that we so starve , by "Act of Parli ment , " Sirs . For statutes sage if you ' ve a rage , turn over without mu mur , Until you fall on bluff King Hal , * ' the Protestant Bi former ;" "No fasts for me , " exclaimed he , determined still to cu on ; By day or night my men shall fight on " Beef , Pork Veal , and Mutton !" "Beef , Pork , Veal , and Mutton ! " "Beef , Pork Veal , and Mutton !" By day or night , my men shall fight on " Beef , Pork Veal , and Mutton . "'
Then let ' s cry " Tuts ! " when grumbling guts for benefit ! are taken , And make it our plan to praise the man , so well " yclept Lord Bacon , He knew the law ; and here's his saw , as plain as words can make it" If beef enow don ' t come to you , e ' en go to it , and—take it !" "Go to it , and—take it ! go to it , and—take it !" " If beef enow don't come to you , e'en go to it , and—take it !"
Calf Skis . —A young fop , who had just begun to shave for a beard , stepped into a barber ' s shop , and . after a grand swagger , desired to he shaved . The barber went through the usual movement , and the young sprig jumped up with a flourish , exclaiming " Maw foinc fellow , what ' s your charge 1 " " Oh , no charge , " was the reply . " No charge ! how ' s that ?' " Why , we are always thankful when we can get sofd calfskin to whet our razors on . " " Odds and Even . "— -A sailor having purchased some medicine of a doctor , demanded the price . " Why , " said the doctor . " I cannot charge you less than seven and sixpence . " "Well , I'll tell you what , " replied the sailor , " take off the odds , and I'll pay you the even . " "Well , " returned the doctor ,
" we won't quarrel about trifles . ' The sailor laic down sixpence , and was walking off , when the doctor reminded him of his mistake . " No mistake at all , sir ; six is even and seven is odd all the world over ; so I wish you a good day . " "Get you gone , " said the doctor , " I ' ve made fourpence out of you yet . " A Yankee Dun . —A gentleman from New York ; who had been in Boston far tho purpose of collecting some money due to him in that city , was about re < turning , when he found that one bill of one hundred dollars had been overlooked . His - landlord , whe knew the debtor , thought it a " doubtful case ; " but added , that if it was collectable at all , a tall , rawboned Yankee , then dunning a lodger in another pari of the house , would " annoy it out of the man . ' Calling him up , therefore , he introduced him to tin creditor , who showed him tho account . "Walt ' square , 'taint much use tvyiti' I guess . I know tha .
critter . You might as well try to squeeze lie out a Bunker-hill monument as to c'lectadebt o' him . Bui anyhow , what do you give me s ' posin I do try ? ,: " Well , sir , the bill is one hundred dollars . I'll giv you—yes , I'll give you half , if you can collect it . " Greed ! " replied the collector ; there's no harm ii : tryin ' , any way . " Some weeks after the credita chanced to be in Boston ; and . in walking up Tre mont-street , happened to encounter his enterprisini friend . "Look ' e here ! " said the Yankee , "I hai considerable luck with that bill of your'n . You se I stuck to him like a dog to a root ; but for the firs week or so 'twant no use—not a bit ! If he wasn at home , he was short ; and if he was at heme , could get no satisfaction . By-and-bye , says I , afte going sixteen times , I'll fix you ; so I sot down on tli door-step , and sot all day and part of the evenin ' , an began airly next day ; but about ten o ' cleck he gii in . He paid me my half , and I gin him up the note !
Irish Evidence . — "Pray , my goodman , " said judge to an Irishman , who was a witness on a tria " what did pass between you and the prisoner : " 0 , then , plase yOUV lordship , " says Pat , " surei sees Phelim a top of the wall . 'Paddy , ' sayslw ' What ? ' says I ; ' Here , ' sayshe ; ' Where ? ' says 'Whist f says he ; 'Hush ' . ' says I ; and that ' s ai plase yer lordship . " M 0 N 8 TR 0 US . — Tll 6 John o ' Groat Journal has a account of a large take of whales amounting to 1541 bythe . Zetlanders . The paper , however , fails to si whether any " gnashing ot teeth " accompanied nmch . " wailing . " - ^— Joe ifiller .
The Political Tom Thujib . —The greatest lit " , man in Europe has arrived in Enghtnd . in the shea of Monsieur Thiers , ex-Premier ol France , rank publican , and editor of the Nationnel . This visit ; M . Thiers we regard as a crying evil . Of course ,, will be lionised through our dockyards , have honon paid him at Drayton , and—be received'by John B 3 in any shape but that of his real one-, namely , 11 bitterest . pulitveal enemy we possess on the contines Realty these repeated French visits assume an aiii . suspicion , more serious than pleasant . The facti our coast being so bare is unbearable , and Joe Mi < warns . Sir R . Peel . that . precaution comes too 11 ¦ wlisa the mischief Is ^ accomplished . —
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Citation
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Northern Star (1837-1852), Oct. 25, 1845, page 3, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/ns/issues/ns2_25101845/page/3/
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