Mild indulgence, white-rob'd candour, Sweet, dove-eyeď virgin, whom, of yore, And, gifted by the sacred Nine, Pleas'd with the infant's gentle charms, Less bright were those which once could charm THE BITER BITTEN. As an humble companion to the highly humorous story of Condy Cullen and the Gauger, so well told by the author of the "Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry," in the 182d number of your Journal, I beg to send you the following anecdote of a gauger, who some years ago resided in a little village in the south of Ireland. Not far from the said village there lived one Paddy Casey, a decent, honest, simple poor man, who endeavoured by unremitSting industry to support in comfort a wife and large family, on little more than two acres of ground-an enterprise not always practicable, but particularly difficult when a rainy season set in, or the weather was unfavoursable for the particular kind of crops he endeavoured to grow on his land. On one occasion of this kind, his stack of barley, which the little farm had produced him, was malted to such a degree as to render it quite unsaleable, thus blasting the hopes which he had formed of a sufficiency of provision for the ensuing winter. Although nearly all his neighbours were engaged in the trade of illicit distillation, Paddy Casey had hitherto avoided it, from an unwillingness to run so great a risk ; but the case now stood thus-by success in such a speculation, he had the fairest hope of gain; by failing, he had nothing to lose. So he took the advice of his neighbours, and prepared his otherwise worthless corn for the still; and in course of time, had the good fortune to bear home his poteen in safety. Another difficulty was still to be surmounted, however, before he could count himself perfectly safe; and this was, to dispose of it. All the information he could gain on this point was, that in the neighbouring town there lived a grocer, who, dealing largely in illicit spirits, generally was the purchaser of all the neigh bourhood could supply. To him Paddy accordingly determined to go; and having borrowed an ass and car, and packed his little cargo securely under a load of straw, set out for his destination in the evening, calculating to reach it towards dusk, when he would have much better chance to escape notice. Fortune favoured our hero, and he reached the grocer's door without interruption, where he was introduced to this important personage-a pompous, burly little body, with a sinister expression of countenance, which plainly indicated he had within little of the finer feelings of humanity. "Your honour," said Paddy Casey, taking off his cau been most respectfully, "I'm a poor boy that was directed to your honour, to know if your honour 'ud take a dhrop of the rale home-made stuff from me-about twenty gal lons of it, your honour." "I don't think I ever dealt with you, honest mandid I?" said the grocer. "No, your honour," said Paddy; "but you did with my neighbours the Kearneys-'twas they sent me-and I've a sample of it here in the bottle. I never was in the thrade afore, and it would be a charity for your honour to buy it; for I dunna what I'll do with it if you don't." "Have you it under the straw ?" "I have, yer honour, shure enough; and here's the sample-never got the taste of water, no more nor the child unborn." Poor Paddy's eagerness to effect a sale did not escape the notice of the wily negociator, and he determined, accordingly, to take advantage of the simplicity and helplessness of his new customer. Having tasted the sample, and ascertained its strength and purity, he proceeded "Yes, it's pretty good-twenty gallons you say-why, honest man, the fact of the matter is, I'm not in need of any at present, as I've bargained already for as much as I want. But since you say you're in such a hobble, I don't mind if I put myself to a little inconvenience about it." 'Och, your honor," said Paddy, quite disappointed, "when was the likes of that sould undher four shillings ?" "But, my good fellow," said the grocer, you forget that I don't want your whiskey at all, and 'tis only as a compliment I'm taking it; so take it or leave it—I don't want the bargain if you don't.” "Oh, bedad, Sir," answered poor Paddy, "that 'ud never pay-say four shillings." "No," said the cunning trader, turning into his shop, take three, or try another market." 66 Maybe yer honour 'ud recommend me to some body else that wants the like" "You won't let me have it at three shillings then ?” asked the grocer angrily. "Och, sure, your honour couîdn't ask it for that ?" answered Paddy. "O, well," said the grocer, "since you wish to thry elsewhere, I'll not bar you, but you'll see if you'll do better. There's a gentleman up at the end of the town would be glad, I fancy, to get it; at least he looks out for it pretty sharp. You may try him if you like-he lives next the church-a green hall-door house, two stories high-you can't miss it." Say three and nine, and don't send me any farther," said Paddy. "No, no-have your own way I won't take it at all now." 66 Well, my blessing on you, any how, whay-up-ho," and turning his ass to the street, he proceeded in the direction pointed out to him, and reached it without much difficulty. On rapping, and demanding to see the master, the proprietor of the house with the green hall-door, a tall, good-humoured looking man, appeared, with a black cout, drab inexpressibles, and top boots. "Well, my man, what's your business with me?" said he. | waiter, who came forth with a grin, in anticipation of the Why, your honor," said Paddy, laughing slyly, "I was scene which he expected would ensue; he was disapould your honor kept a sharp look out for good poteen." pointed, however, on seeing the car and cargo still in "And that I do," said the gentleman, "sure enough- possession of the owner. I'll give you five guineas into your hand, if you bring me to where there's a gallon of it." "Whillelu!" thinks Paddy to himself, "I'm made up now entirely. If he'd give so much for a single gallon, and have all the throuble of going for it, sure he'll be offering me the world an' all when I bring it to the door with him." "Well, my man," said the gentleman, on observing his delighted silence, "what do you say?" "An' what 'ill you give me," said Paddy, "if I bring you to where there's twenty ?" "I'll give you what I said, upon my honour," answered the gentleman. "But what 'ill you give me if I bring the twenty to your very door to you?" said Paddy, slapping his brawny thigh with his open palm, as he reached the climax in the bargain. 66 Eh," said the gentleman-" what's that you say ?" "Twenty gallons of the best poteen you ever tasted that's what I say," repeated Paddy; "never got the taste of water, or the blast of a gauger's eye." "My good fellow," said the gentleman, looking a little bewildered," either some person has played a very great trick on you, or else you are about playing a particularly silly one on me, I'm thinking." "Oh, the never a thrick in it-there they are, snug under the sthraw," said Paddy; "an' sure, yer honor, here's the sample-thry it ;" and producing the bottle with the sample from beneath his coat, and the gentleman having put it to his lips, Paddy, in his eagerness to conclude what he thought so profitable a bargain, almost rammed the neck of it down his throat, giving him a tolerably fine sample of it before he could get it from his mouth, "Eh," said Paddy, chuckling with most irrepressible glee," isn't that the stuff!" Some time elapsed, however, before the gauger recovered sufficiently to give an answer, from the fit of coughing which seized him after this unexpected drench. "You vagabond thief," he exclaimed, on regaining his voice, "do you know who I am?-don't you know I'm the gauger ?" "Millia murder," ejaculated Paddy Casey, leaning up against the wall, quite stunned by this information; "what 'ill I do now at all, at all. Och, the worst of luck to you, grocer Reynolds, to go ruin a poor boy, with a houseful of childer, this-a-way." "I must seize this poteen, my man," said the gauger, restored to his usual good humour; "but, at the same time, I pity you very much, for I'm sure some trick has been played on you, to make you come into my clutches -I dare not let you go." "Oh, your honour," exclaimed Paddy, " I didn't mean you the least offince; and sure there was a thrick, or I wouldn't be the fool to come near you: 'twas all the doing of that Reynolds, the grocer, yer honour, who has ruinated me and my childher." So he told his story exactly as it happened, his extreme simplicity testing the truth of every part of it. "Ho, ho," said the gauger; so Mr. Reynolds deals in poteen-does he? this may turn out well for both of us. Now, my man, you see the trick he has played on you, and I suppose you would have no great objection to punish him for his heartlessness ?" "None whatever in life, yer honour: I'd walk to the world's end, with pebbles in my brogues, to have my revinge on him," vehemently exclaimed our hero. "You needn't go half so far to do it completely, then," answered the gauger; "follow the directions I'll give you, and play no trick, and you'll find it easy enough to have complete satisfaction of the scoundrel who could thus endeavour to injure a poor man." "So that gentleman wouldn't take your whiskey ?" said he. 'Oh, wirra sthrue!" answered Paddy," sure he wasn't at home, or he would." I say, my good fellow, do you know who he was ?" "Oh, the sorra a know; but sure he must be a good fellow, anyhow, if he has such a regard for the potees Mr. Reynolds, dear, do take it from me at the three-and six, and earn my blessin', an' my wife's an' childer's, into the bargain. Dth, dth; sorra's on you for poteen, what throuble you're given me-three an' six, your honor." "No, no," answered the grocer; "since you missed your other customer, I'll not go back of my former offer. I'll give you the three for it; and now, at a word, make up your mind, take it or leave it, for my tae's coolin', and I can't stand higgling here with the likes of you all night." "Well, take it, yer honor," said Paddy; "anything sooner than bring it back. Musha, the next dhrop of poteen I make again, may it be my poison." "Here John," said the grocer, calling over his shopboy, and whispering him, "take this man's whiskey, and put it where you know." His orders were soon executed. Paddy, on pretence of seeing that he got fair play in the measuring, having made good his entry into the cellar, employed himself, in pursuance of the gauger's directions, in observing where it was placed. As soon as it was all regularly measured and put by, his account was made up and the amount paid, and the gate opened for his departure, when, much to the surprise and dismay of the grocer and his assistants, the passage was in a moment occupied by the gauger, and a party of soldiers under his directions, who were quickly in possession of every post in the concerns. "I'll thank you for the key of your cellar, Mr. Reynolds?" said the gauger coolly. "Oh, certainly, Sir," said the grocer, with an assumed composure; "but you'll allow me to say, I don't understand what you mean by disturbing my place in this manner, at such an hour of the night. It is quite incomprehensible, so it is." On this the gauger and Paddy exchanged looks, in a manner calculated very much to awaken the suspicions of grocer Reynolds, who at length discovered the hobble into which his practical joke had plunged him. From the arrangement of his cellar, however, he was pretty confident of security if he could only obtain Paddy's silence; he, accordingly, moved towards him. "What will you take and hold your tongue?" said he. "What will you give me, grocer Reynolds ?" answered Paddy. The grocer slipped a pound note into his hand; and scarcely had he done so when Paddy was seized by one of the soldiers and led into the cellar. "Where was this poteen placed?" said the gauger; but Paddy was most piously silent. The question was repeated, but still no answer, and a third time with like success; Paddy, all the time, shaking his head, and making signs, which the gauger at length understood. "Ho, ho," said he, "is that what you are at ?-here, men, remove those vessels in the corner." The command was obeyed, and forth came to light the hidden treasure so lately purchased by the facetious grocer. The seizure was of course made, amid the dismay and confusion of the grocer and his family, whom such a disclosure necessarily placed in the greatest danger. The vessel was removed; and Paddy, being set at liberty, demanded from the gauger his reward. The five guineas were laid in his hand, and he trudged home that night, the happiest man in the barony. Moreover, when he told his story, no one blamed him for the part he had acted; nor is it recorded, that he was himself ever wounded in conscience for enjoying the spoils of "a biter M.C. bitten." He then gave him a detail of his plan, which Paddy most joyfully proceeded to execute. Having returned to the grocer's, with a melancholy disconsolate air, Paddy once more demanded to see the Dublin: Printed and Published by P. Dixon Hardy, 3, Cecilia-street, whom all communications are to be addressed, ABBEY OF ST. MARY DE URSO, DROGHEDA. The "Old Abbey," anciently the Abbey of St. Mary de Urso, or Augustinian Convent, is situated on the north side of the river Boyne, in the town of Drogheda, immediately within West Gate. We have no authentic documents of its first foundation, but the general opinion ascribes its origin to St. Patrick; and the particulars are traditionally related as follows: In the year 443, St. Patrick, having founded the Abbey of Louth, and spent a portion of his time at Ard-Patrick, situated eastward of that town, determined to visit Tarah, then the residence of the Irish monarch; and his route lying through Tredagh, (Drogheda,) on his approach to that town, the fame of his sanctity flying before him, induced many of the inhabitants, then Pagans, to go out to meet him; which they accordingly did, at a place still called Clough-Patrick, about two miles from Drogheda, on the Collon road. Here the holy man preached the tidings of salvation to them, standing on a large stone, which is yet preserved, and retains the impression of his knees and crozier, once believed to be miraculous, but which, it is now thought, was chiselled on its surface by some of his converts, to commemorate the event. After this, advancing to Drogheda, he here, (where the Abbey is situated,) finding a well, proceeded to baptize those who were desirous of receiving that rite; and subsequently founded, contiguous to it, this monastery, in which he placed some of his disciples; for it seems to have been his invariable practice, to settle some of his brethren as missionaries, in every promising situation where they might water the good seed he had sown, by their precept and example-and to this practice do we owe almost all the religious establishments in Ireland; and as baptism was then, as now, the seal of admission into the Christian church, these societies were, in all cases where practicable, planted near the wells first used; and hence the origin of holy wells, so abundant in Ireland. This well still gives name to Patrick's-well lane, but has been closed up some time since, and the water conducted by pipes to a pump erected in the rere of the Linen Hall. Saint Patrick's Convent, like all other similar erections then in Ireland, was constructed of wattles, as we have an account of one of the brotherhood being expelled for drawing a wattle out of the roof to defend himself against some persons who had assaulted him. The next notice we have of this convent is A. D. 738, in which year Cuan, the grandson of Bessan, and scribe of Trevet, called also "Cuannain O'Breffair, the remarkable scribe of Trevet," (a monastery in the County of Meath, three miles south-east of Tarah,) died here. also held of the king, at the yearly rent of ten shillings for all services; together with several rents, &c. arising from tenements in the town of Drogheda; and farther gave after his decease, the election of keeper of this Hospital to the good men of Drogheda; and ordered that the said keeper should not in any case be called prior, but custos, or guardian, and should at all times be removable for misbehaviour-witness Eugene, Archbishop of Armagh. The Cross Bearers, following the rule of St. Augustus, were afterwards introduced here, but at what period is uncertain. It is probable the original monastery of St. Patrick had gone to decay; for we find that in the year 1240 a convent of Minorites was erected on its site; and from a tomb of the Darcies of Platten being placed in the centre of the choir, it is supposed they were the re-edifiers; though some give that honor to the family of Plunket. The year 1300 is remarkable in the annals of this abbey; for we find that in that year Hamund the Butcher having slain his wife, took sanctuary in this church by night, and did there abjure the land; and in the same year, Richard Deblett, Robert Savage, and John Bole, having effected their escape out of the prison of the town, also took sanctuary here, and did likewise abjure the realm; and Thomas le Morson, having killed John de Myddleton, availed himself of this privilege, and here, secure from all danger of arrests, he also abjured the land; and it is also recorded, that during the same period, Martin of Termonfeighan, having slain Laurence de Hell in the dwelling house of the master of the Priory of St. Laurence, immediately took sanctuary in this church. These privileges of sanctuary were probably derived from the Jewish cities of refuge; and from the above instances it is evident, were greatly abused. The ceremony of abjuration was as follows: By the common law of England, if a person guilty of any felony, excepting sacrilege, fled to a church or churchyard for sanctuary, he might within forty days afterwards go clothed in sackcloth before the coroner, confess the full particulars of his guilt, and take an oath to abjure the kingdom for ever, and not to return without the king's license. Upon making his confession and taking this oath, he became ipso facto attainted of the felony; he had forty days from the day of his appearance before the coroner to prepare for his departure; and the coroner assigned him such port as he chose for his embarkation, to which he was bound to repair immediately, with a cross in his hand, and embark with all convenient speed. If he did not go immediately out of the kingdom, or afterwards returned to it, he was condemned to be hanged, unless he happened to be a clerk, in which case he was allowed be. nefit of clergy. By the statute 21 James I. cap. 28, all privileges of sanctuary, and abjuration consequent upon it, were entirely abolished. But to return to our annals-In the year 1330 the river Boyne overflowed its banks, and did considerable injury to this monastery; and in 1359 a general chapter of the order was held in it; and we are told that the Brandons did afterwards repair this house, which was the head of a wardenship. Cardinal Papero, the pope's legate, held a synod here A. D. 1152; and shortly after, "Amlave, the abbott, was expelled for his sacrilegious crimes. He was afterwards chosen abbott of Maghbile, now Moville, in the County of Down; and in the year 1170, in conjunction with Eochadha, king of Ulidea, and some of his people, drove the abbott and monks of Saul out of the abbey, which had been built by themselves, and plundered them of their books, vestments, and other furniture, with their herds, flocks, and all their goods whatsoever. But this wicked action did not pass ur punished; for on the same Thursday in the ensuing year, Lochadha and his followers fell by the hand of a much inferior enemy; and the king, being desperately wounded, was on the Thursday after murdered by his own brother at Down, the place where this wicked deed was conceived and concluded upon. In 1519, the Observantine friars reformed this monasBut these ecclesiastical historians, tender of the charac- tery; and on the 20th of March, 31st Henry VIII. Richter of the church, do not tell us what was the fate of Am-ard Molane, the last guardian, surrendered it, with all its lave." What a melancholy picture does this extract present of the state of society at that time! In 1377, the prior, John Amwell, together with John Messyngham and Allan Carge, both brothers of this house, and Stephen Hameton, the chaplain, were indicted for assaulting and wounding William Ashe, of the town of Drogheda, and robbing him of a knife, value six pence, but were acquitted by the jury. possessions, into the king's hands, who granted it to the mayor and corporation of Drogheda. About the year 1206, Ursus de Suamel, with the con- The only parts remaining of this once extensive abbey sent of Christiana his wife, founded, without the west gate, are the tower, the chancel-arch, and a smaller Guthie the Hospital of St. Mary de Urso, for the maintenance of arch to the west, now forming part of the gable of a stable, the poor and sick, for the support of which he granted with a few fragments of walls in the adjoining yards and all his possessions in Ireland, viz.-the ground on which enclosures. The church was very extensive, the area of the Hospital was erected, containing forty acres, and the the nave measuring 150 feet by 30. The tower is not as lands of Kilnier, the Hospital paying thereout to the king lofty as Magdalene's, before described; but the arch is conhalf an ounce of gold yearly, in lieu of all rent and ser-siderably wider, and spans the lane called Abbey-lane vices; that parcel of land in the mountains which he which is now conducted under it through the nave. CURIOUS ANECDOTE OF A RAT. The following story, having reference to the before-mentioned ruin, is fully accredited by many residing in the neighbourhood: Some years since, a man who on Saturday night had sacrificed rather freely to Bacchus, found himself on Sunday morning comfortably reclining on a heap of litter under the tower of the old abbey. After rubbing his eyes, and satisfying himself he was really awake, he began to bestir himself; but it being still early, and not feeling quite recovered, the rising sun also shining gloriously on his bed of straw, he thought it better to have another doze, and accordingly again composed himself to rest. However, in a short time, casting his eyes about, he pereeived a rat coming from a hole opposite, having a guinea in his mouth, which he carefully deposited in such a situation as that the beams of the sun falling full upon it showed it off in all its pristine beauty. This process was repeated until he had arranged upwards of twenty before Paddy's astonished gaze. After contemplating his treasure with as much satisfaction as any other miser, he commenced removing them again; but our hero, after one or two had disappeared, thinking, perhaps, he would never again have such another golden opportunity, took the liberty, when the owner's back was turned, of sweeping the remainder into his hat, which he pressed most affectionately to his bosom, and ran for his life. But the rat, who did not wish to lose so simply the fruits of a long life of industry and toil, pursued the plunderer, and coming up with him, mounted on his back, and immediately fastened on his neck. Paddy, thus assailed, but unwilling to give up his prize, roared most lustily for assistance, which attracting the attention of some persons going to early service in a neighbouring chapel, they came to his relief, and delivered him from his enemy, who fell, like any other hero, gallantly defending his property. R. A, "THE SACRED HARP OF IRELAND." This little selection of sacred songs rendered into Irish verse,affords another proof of the anxiety evinced at the present moment, to meet the prejudices of our people in favour of their native language. The rendering, or translation is by different hands, under the direction or superintendence of Miss Alexander, of Ardbracan palace, county Meath. It is, indeed, gratifying to observe individuals, moving in the higher walks of life, sacrificing their ease and convenience, and devoting their wealth to such benevolent objects as those in which we have reason to know this amiable lady has been for years engaged. Her efforts in favour of the juvenile Deaf and Dumb have done much towards alleviating the condition of very many of that hopeless class of our fellow-beings; and her present efforts to communicate instruction through a medium by which alone many in various parts of our island could receive it, deserves the highest commendation. Of the translations we confess ourselves incompetent to express more than a merely superficial opinion. The language used appears Emooth and intelligible-though there are in some of the pieces occasional breaches of grammar, the nominative For instance in place of the genitive. This, however, was a fault to be expected in rendering English verse into Irish, as there exists a very great difference in the mode of expression in the one language from the idiom of the other; on the whole, we can recommend the little work to lovers of the Irish language-and as a specimen, select Bishop Heber's beautiful lines on the Death of a Friend, of which we also subjoin the English, that all our readers may have an opportunity of judging of the correctness of the translation, which will be found to be nearly literal; the expression in the first line-"Thou art gone to the grave"-alone being changed to what will be much better understood by the Irish peasantry-"Thou art laid in the grave." We should, perhaps, have mentioned, that the preface, by Miss Alexander, is in the Irish language; and we give the lady the fullest credit for sincerity, when • See No. 45, of the Collection. "THOU ART GONE TO THE GRAVE." 'Sa n'uajtij tá tý sínte! 's ní deunfam do ċaoinead Gió buairead is siníit a beit timċjoll do tomba Do Shlánujżteoir ċuaid ċum do sliże do díread 'Sir treoir duit 'sa dorċadas lóċran a żráda. 'Sa n'uaim tá té sínte; ní feicmid ¿ŕ fearda, 'S ni jub'ilmid do cuideaċt gcam-sliġtib an traogail; Aċt Críosd 4g fuireaċ lé do žábáil čum reasda, 'So d'eug seisean eugad gaċ peacać gan baożal. Sa n'uajti tá tý sínte ! ó'n gcollain 'nois gluasaċt Do spiorad lag, b’féidir, fa brón sul do tréigis; Aċt dealraig an solus ó neamh air do dŕsact Sé biñċeól an treraiß an fuaim &n do ċualais. 'Sa n'uaini tá té sínte ! 'sní deunfam do čaoinead, O da Dia duit n'fear coiide, 's na treoraide grár; 'Se tuz ¿ŕ, 'sé żab ¿ŕ, 'sé deunfas d'aiseacad, 'Sa n'eug ni bfuil gat, 6 fuair an Slánuiżteoir bás. e. o'c. Thy Saviour has pass'd thro' its portals before thee, It is a singular fact, that the inhabitants of a town not 50 miles from Dublin were all astonished one morning to find they were minus their cats. Not a feline animal, of any age or sex, was to be found. All the neighbours condoled with each other, for a similar cat-astrophe had befallen the sage grimalkins of every house. In a few days, however, some few of the wanderers returned, bearing manifest traces of having been recently engaged in a hard fought field, where "Those who lost the fatal day Stood, few and faint, but fearless still." The wounds of most were in front, a proof of their gallant bearing. Their skins were lacerated-their ears and legs bore marks of many a hard struggle-great, indeed, was the mutilation the warriors had sustained. The only instance of poltroonery, I feel ashamed to state, was that of my own cat, who returned sans queue; this mutilation having fled from the engagement. en arriere affording a strong presumption of the sufferer A field some distance from the town was found strewed with the carcases of those who "Bravely fought, and fearless died." Of the truth of this statement I assure you that you need not entertain the slightest doubt. |