vicinity of Newry, he discovered twenty pieces of silver. Among them was one of the reign of an Alexander of Scotland; the others were of the reigns of Henry the Second and the Edwards of England, coined in Reginald's Tower, County of Waterford. A short antique Irish pipe was dug up, in 1828, by some labourers in the land of Crown Mount, near Newry. The head of the pipe is square, having a human face etched in front, the letter W on the reverse; the figure of a bird similarly marked on one side, and the figure of Death on the other. These figures are all rudely executed; and from various circumstances, one is led to consider the pipe a curious specimen of the mechanical art in ancient days. It is in the possession of Mr. Glenny. These cairns or piles of loose stones are generally supposed to mark the spot where the remains of some powerful chieftain were interred. The attachment and number of his followers may be estimated by the size and quantity of the stones, as each man is supposed to contribute but one. Sir Walter Scott says that similar cairns crown the summits of the Scottish hills, and that some. times urns, containing bones, ashes, and beads, are found beneath them. "On many a cairn's gray pyramid, few pounds weight, and have both, a few years since, been examined by the gentleman to whom I have alluded. He informed me, that though they contained the kind of grave or tomb that are generally inside such places, yet he could trace out no remains of bones, ashes, &c. as he has sometimes found in others which he has opened; and that there being no such remains, has led many to believe the tradition of the country to be correct, which says, that the inhabitants adjoining had collected on this hill, on a premeditated incursion into the County of Louth-that each man, to commemorate the event, on his going away cast a stone, and thus formed the larger cairn-that they then marched to Warrenpoint, and crossing the bay in small wicker frames covered with hides, landed on the other side, and driving before them the terrified inhabitants, plundered them of every thing valuable; but they having collected in a body, armed themselves, and pursued their plunderers to the shore, where they overtook them, loaded with spoil, and after a sharp engagement totally routed them. The few that remained after the conflict returned home, bringing with them the body of their fallen leader, who was slain in the encounter, and buried him on a hill a short distance from Tammery, where they had before collected, and there formed a cairn around his ashes. On their again reaching Tammery, each man cast another stone, which thus accounts for the second heap; and the reason of its being so small was, that nearly two-thirds of their number had been killed. It is said, they then remembered that St. Patrick, meeting them at that place on the eve of their intended excursion, and being unable to restrain them from their lawless pur- A civilian, accompanied by his family, in the tour of pose, denounced against them the fatal consequences that his district, took possession of a beautiful spot in the befel them; and having sent to him, he came, and stand-neighbourhood of Monghyr. According to the Eastern ing between the two cairns, preached to them repentance, custom, he was attended by a numerous train of depenand many of them were converted. He then took a dents, whose establishments, together with his own, occustone from each heap, and threw them into the adjoining pied a considerable space of ground. Amongst the parish, and said that in process of time there should be a domestic pets belonging to his family was a grey, blackhouse of prayer erected, and a burying-place formed, on faced monkey, with long arms and a long tail; which, on the places where they fell, which is said to be where the account of his mischievous propensities, was always kept chapel and burying-place of Drumgath now stand. A short chained to a post on which the hut which defended him time ago the cairn where it is said they had buried their from the inclemency of the weather was erected. One leader was opened; and in it was found a beautiful urn, morning the wife of the civilian, who frequently amused now in the possession of the Marquis of Downshire. It herself with watching the antics of this animal, observed contained several calcined bones, and a small vessel, called another monkey of the same species playing with the pria lachrymatory, having a quantity of earthy matter, sup-soner; she instantly sent round to the people in the camp posed to be the ashes of the heart. This latter vessel, in a short time after its exposure to the air, went to pieces. The urn was tastefully ornamented. The cairn is called Mullaghmore Cairn. Hilltown. J. R. ANECDOTES OF THE MONKEY. to inquire whose monkey (for there are frequently several attached to one household) had got loose, and to desire that it might be instantly chained up. She was told that no one had brought a monkey with them, and that the creature which she had seen must be a stranger from the woods. An interesting scene now took place between the new acquaintances. After much jabbering and chat In the townland of Mayo, the property of the late R. Martin, Esq. on a farm occupied by James Campbell, Mr. Glenny opened a cairn in July, 1826. On the removal of the small stones of which such monuments are exter-tering, the wild monkey arose to go; and, finding that nally formed, a large flag (supposed to weigh about two tons) was discovered, and underneath a grave, formed of four large stones, viz. head, foot, and sides, joined together in the strongest possible manner. In it were found a large quantity of calcined bones; also, an urn, tastefully though rudely ornamented, resting on a flag bedded in well-wrought clay. In the urn was a quantity of blackish stuff, supposed to be the heart. Mr. G. has opened several such, in some of which he found amulets-one surrounded, as he supposes, with Irish characters, and a quern tastefully ornamented. On the 28th and 29th of December, 1827, in the above townland, Mr. Glenny discovered six ancient urns, curiously ornamented, each containing a quantity of calcined bones. One of them contained a small vessel, supposed a lachrymatory—an earthen vessel, wherein the ents received the tears of those friends that attended the funerals of the deceased, and buried them with the departed friend or relation. Mr. Glenny has discovered ten within twelve months in the aforesaid townland and its vicinity. Five of them are in fine preservation. He also discovered a small tomb in form of a chest, eighteen inches long and twelve wide, in which were found boues, with arrow-heads chipped out of flint. These mementos of the olden times cannot fail of striking the attention of the curious observer. In 1827, as Mr. Glenny was exploring a cairn in the his friend did not accompany him, returned; and, taking him round the neck, urged him along: he went willingly the length of the chain, but then, prevented by stern necessity, he paused. In the course of a short time the strange monkey seemed to comprehend the cause of his friend's detention, and grasping the chain, endeavoured to break it; the attempt was unsuccessful; and, after several ineffectual efforts, both sat down in the attitude which the natives of India seem to have borrowed from these denizens of the woods, and making many gesticulations, appeared to wring their hands and weep in despair. Night closed upon the interview, but the next day it was renewed; and now the monkey community was increased to three. Desirous to know where these creatures came from, the lady made inquiries of the natives of the place; but they unanimously agreed in declaring, that there was not, to their knowledge, a monkey tope belonging to the same species within a hundred miles. The most eager desire was manifested by the new comers to release the prisoner from his bondage; at first, as upon the former occasion, the arts of persuasion were tried; force was next resorted to, and, in the end, doleful exclamations, jabbering of the most pathetic description, and tears. On the following day, four or five monkeys made their appearance; and many were the discussions which appeared to take place between them: they tried to drag the captive up a tice, but, the cruel chain still interposing, they seemed completely at their wits' end, uttering piercing lamenta- | vity and steadiness of the latter to direct it in its pursuits tions, or so roughly endeavouring to effect a release, as while the latter needs the fervour and energy of the former to endanger the life of their friend. Pleased with the af- to maintain and support it in its exertions. Instances fectionate solicitude displayed by these monkeys, and have occurred where each existing singly has arrived at sympathising in their disappointment, the lady, after distinction-as genius in some of our poets, (though many having amused herself for a considerable period by watch- of them have had both united, and where such union has ing their manœuvres, ordered one of the servants to let existed their fame has been the greater, as in the case of the monkey loose. The moment the party perceived that Milton;) learning in some of our historians or eminent his freedom was effected, their joy was unbounded; em- lawyers, where the same remark too holds good; and bracing him many times, they gamboled and capered both have existed together in some of our distinguished about with delight; and, finally, seizing the emancipated statesmen. On the whole, perhaps, it is not unfair to prisoner by the arm, ran off with him to the woods, and conclude, that when they exist singly, the attainment of were never seen again, not one of the same species ap- distinction is but probable and likely; but when they are pearing during the time the party remained in camp; united, it is certain and undoubted. In fact, genius withthus corroborating the evidence of the natives, who per- out learning may be compared to a ship elegantly con sisted in declaring, that grey, black-faced monkeys, with structed, but unprovided with a helm, or to some amazing long arms, were not inhabitants of the district. A cir- mechanical force without a directing power to control its cumstance, somewhat similar, and equally authentic, motions. It may, by its own innate might, strike out a which took place on the Madras side of India, related to bold and daring course in the regions of mind, and somethe writer by an officer of rank to whom it occurred, times arrive perhaps at its proposed end; but then, too may amuse those who take an interest in inquiring into frequently it is in danger of exhausting itself in boundless the habits and manners of a race which, together with the speculation, or being lost amid the very world of imagin conformation, seem to partake of the caprices and incon- ings which its own power had created. Learning, again, sistencies of man. Near to the bungalow in which the without genius, or at least a moderate portion of it, is the officer resided, and which had been newly erected in a ship furnished with the helm, but in want of the sails by jungly district, a troop of monkeys were in the habit of which it can catch the breeze and bound over the deep. crossing the road daily, on their way to the neighbouring It may possess a large and comprehensive knowledge, and woods. On one of these occasions, a sepoy, perceiving a clear and perspicuous judgment resulting from this knowthe amusement which they afforded to his officer, caught ledge, but it will want that alacrity and agility of mind a young one, and brought it to the house, where it re- by which it is buoyed up and supported amid the turmoil mained fastened to one of the pillars of the verandah. of life. And thus, in order to realize great results, both The parents of this monkey were soon perceived to take must be joined. It is the junction of both that has preup a position on a ledge of rocks opposite, but at some duced our greatest statesmen and philosophers. A Burke distance, where they could obtain a view of their impri- and a Newton are the offspring of their union. Together, soned offspring, and there they sat all day, sometimes ap- they are the sources of every thing grand and noble in the parently absorbed in silent despair, at others breaking out achievements of mind. They create around them a lumi into paroxysms of grief. This lasted for a long time; days nous and phosphorescent atmosphere, from which have passed away without reconciling the parents to their loss; radiated those lucent streams of knowledge that have the same scene was enacted, the same sorrow evinced; enlightened the world. Yet notwithstanding this, it is by and, being of a compassionate disposition, the young offi- no means unusual to see men gifted with a very high order cer took pity upon the misery of the bereaved pair, and of mind, not only neglecting it, but even making what gave his captive liberty. Anticipating the contemplation ought to be an incentive, an excuse for want of industry of the greatest delight at the meeting, he looked out to upon their part, when they ought to recollect, that the the rock, whither the young monkey instantly repaired, noblest productions of nature are capable of being imbut, instead of the happy re-union which his faney had proved, and that even the finest diamond is not seen in painted, a catastrophe of the most tragic nature ensued. its full lustre and brilliancy, till the hand of art has rubbed Seizing the truant in their arms, the old monkeys tore it away its excrescences, and thus imparted a smoothness to pieces in an instant; thus destroying at once the plea- and polish to its external surface. W. R. surable sensations of the spectator, and perplexing him with vain conjectures whether, irritated by their previous distress, they had avenged themselves upon its cause; or whether, in the delirium of their joy, they had too roughly caressed the object of their lamentations. Having committed this strangely cruel act, the monkeys took their departure. GENIUS AND LEARNING. There are no two attributes or properties of the mind more essentially distinct than genius and learning; and yet no two from whose union such great and manifold advantages result. Wherever they exist singly, it is quite manifest how much each requires the assistance of the other. In fact, from their very nature it appears, that it is only when united that they can be productive of any lasting benefit. The very qualities which each possesses show them to be mutually dependent on each other. Genius, in the general acceptation of the word, is solely the gift of nature. It is that subtile contexture-that mystical organization-that harmonious adjustment and congroity of all the mental powers, by which is produced a loftiness of sentiment, and a capacity and amplitude of conception, that surpasses the range and limits of ordinary minds. Learning, on the contrary, is the product of labour, acquired by application and industry, and the result, not of any union or combination of intellectual agencies, or any peculiar refinement of the mind, but of the proper use, exercise, and cultivation of those faculties of perception of which we are all to a certain degree possessed. Thus, we see that the former wants the gra REAL AND AFFECTED SENSIBILITY. A very cursory observation of life must have impressed the inquirer with the striking difference between real and affected sensibility-it betrays itself in even the minutest point of conduct, and devotes the hypocrite to the contempt he so well merits. It must, however, be allowed, for the honour of human nature, that much of this indifference to the comfort of others is superinduced. Pity is an emotion which it is difficult to quench, and we have some scruples to overcome before we systematically substitute the base coin of pretended sympathy, for the sterling ore of genuine kindness; but the effort once made, the return to true feeling is next to impossible. It is so much more agreeable to make professions than exertions, so much less troublesome to force the tear than to open the heart, that love of ease to which human nature is so prone, comes in aid of our selfishness, and we become irretrievably impenetrable, while we may fancy ourselves, or at least wish to persuade others, that we abound in the milk of human kindness. It cannot be doubted that the reading of novels must, amongst females particularly, tend greatly to this hardening of the heart. The perusal of romances serves not merely to pervert but to enfeeble the mind, and we accordingly find that those who indulge in such studies, either fly from, or are unequal to bear the pressure of, real calamity. If it falls upon themselves, their pusilanimity is contemptible-if it overtakes others, their defection is notorious. They cannot endure, their feelings are so acute, the screams of pain, or the disgust of a sick chamber. If a limb is to be amputated, the sufferer is handed over by the sentimentalist to the vulgar pity of the surgeon's apprentice, or the nurse-tender; nor does he return till all is safe and tranquil, and he can earn the cheap fame of sympathy, founded on a few hackneyed inquiries or an ciently respectable to do credit to the zeal and perseverance of both pastor and parishioners. "See," said he, "here is the space we have enclosed for a cemetery; and there, in front, I have planted a grove of ash and other trees; do you see those four tall ash placed apart from each other?-I mean to be buried in that spot, should I die in the parish. How do you like my chapel? And, more than all, what think you of the inimitable economy of space with which I have placed the vestry-room under the altar? Sir, I pride myself not a little upon my architectural skill; and I like you so well, that I'll show you (what I have shown to very few) the plan of a cottage that I purpose erecting for my residence, should Plutus ever smile on me so far as to give me the requisite means. FOUR-MILE-WATER. On the morning that succeeded the social evening we described in a former chapter of our " Rides," (No. 138,) Father R introduced the subject of the architectural antiquities of his neighbourhood. Plan of Father John's intended residence. "There's my cottage, Sir. It isn't so bad for a mere amateur-there's a dash of the antique about it, which I am sure you must like. I threw off the sketch in a few minutes, when the fancy inspired me; and I promise you the internal arrangements would be quite as commodious as the exterior is simple and pleasing. Among the rest, I purpose arriving at the glory of a BOUDOIR-only think, a BOUDOIR in the wilds of this parish, which is nearly unpronounceable by civilized lips! There, Sir, I shall have my books, my drawings, my mathematical instruments, and, peradventure, a few of the more scientific implements of the cuisine, for the benefit of those dear and chosen friends who are equally skilled with myself in gastronomical science. You may perhaps be admitted to a few of these select, exclusive orgies, provided you approve your. self au fait in the projection of some exquisite boulli, some inimitable pâté, or some scientific vol-au-vent, or anything, in short, which may render you worthy of such an envied distinction." "With one or two exceptions," said he, "this district is rather bare of such remains, and those which we have are evidently of the rudest construction, which marks them as the fabrics of a period when security from depredation was one of the principal objects which the chieftain, or proprietor, proposed to himself in constructing his residence. Of Castle Donovan, I think, my honest friend, you already know satis superque; a few miles to the north-east lies the ruin of Toher, once of considerable size and strength, but now chiefly remarkable from the luxuriant clusters of ivy that festoon the walls of the castle to its very summit. It would be richly worth your while, as I think you are somewhat of a botanist, to ride I could not avoid smiling at the enthusiasm with which half a mile out of your way to look at the ivy at Toher-my host affected to speak of the cuisine; as he really was it is really gigantic. Loudon, in his Encyclopedia of as sincere a votary of temperance in the use of the good Agriculture, (a work which I constantly study,) observes, things of the table, as any one I ever have met. He soon that the humidity and mildness of the atmosphere pro- reverted to the subject of his intended cottage. duce in the south of this kingdom a luxuriance and rapi- Now, Sir, if I go to the expense of erecting this edidity of growth in vegetation, to which no other part of fice, I shall surround it with a garden in the antique the empire affords any parallel; and this, he says, ap- mode: my parterres, my flowers, my evergreen hedges, pears in the most remarkable manner in the ivy and other my arbours, my verdant walls,' and my velvet alleys, evergreens, with which the kingdom abounds. He is shall be all in the style so enchantingly described and requite right; but of all the magnificent masses of ivy I commended by the Abbé, the Comte, and the Chevalier, in have seen, I think the prodigious growth of that ever- that sweet old work on arboriculture by Du Bois. Don't green at Toher the most remarkable for picturesque rich-laugh, as if I were guilty of any very great extravagance ness and vigour. I have planted ivy to the walls of the parish chapel, although only on the northern and eastern exposures; it will not generate damp, unless it grows upon the sides of the building exposed to the humidity of our atmosphere-namely, the south and west." While his reverence spoke, we were slowly sauntering towards the chapel, on the erection of which, in spite of the poverty of the parishioners, Father John justly piqued himself not a little. It was built at three onsets, the parish being unable to accomplish so great an undertaking in a single year; and its size and appearance were suffi in this: remember that my garden plot is small, that I am a tolerable hand at spade, shovel, and pruning-knife myself, and that the gossoon about the house can do wonders when working along with so finished a proficient as I am. I shall have multum in parvo. But when do you start for Four Mile Water? I am going to the parish of Durrus to-day, and I shall feel glad to accompany you." Our horses were accordingly saddled for the excursion to Four-Mile-Water, to which, the preceding evening, I had spoken of proceeding on this day. Mr. R-s conversation beguiled the hours of my ride through this bare and uncultivated district, which swells into brown, wild moorland eminences, few of which ascend to the dignity of hills. After riding leisurely for more than three hours, the bay of Dunmanus broke upon our sight-a noble sheet of water, fully thirteen miles in length from its inland extremity to the harbour's mouth; the hills that border its shore are bolder, higher, and far more abrupt than any of those through which we had travelled. The parish church of Durrus, and the neat and compact glebe-house of Mr. Alcock, the Protestant rector, occupy a rising ground overhanging the upper end of the bay, where the water narrows to a point. The thatched, whitewashed cottage of Mr. Quin, the parish priest, embosomed in its snug and thriving orchard, stands further inland among verdant meadows. At the distance of some miles along the bay, are visible the ancient castles of Dunbeacon and Dunmanus, almost verging on the water's edge; they were formerly inhabited by hardy buccaneers, who retired to enjoy the profits of their dangerous and stormy occupation on these desolate shores. As one gazes on their roofless walls, the mind irresistibly reverts to the wild wassail, the rude licence, of which these abodes have been formerly the scene; and one painfully contrasts the riotous festivity of other days with the death-like stillness that now prevails in the long-deserted edifices. On the north-west side of the bay stands FourMile-Water, the demesne of the Rev. Mr. Evanson, an unbeneficed Protestant clergyman, whose character, as I learned from my companion, is exceedingly amiable and popular. Mr. Evanson inhabits a modern house, erected some forty or fifty years since, near the site of the ancient tenement that forms the subject of our first engraving. Both are immersed in groves of lofty trees, and a wild, shady walk leads from the dwelling-house to the seashore, which is less than a quarter of a mile distant. Antiquarian as I am," said Mr. R little of this ancient ruin, save what Smith tells us in his History of Cork-namely, that it was once a place of some strength, and was built by a branch of the M'Carthys. The M'Carthys lost that, along with other possessions, in the great civil war; and their descendants struggled on, for no inconsiderable part of a century, in the doubtful class entitled 'decayed gentry. I well recollect the last of them who lingered in this neighbourhood. He was an old, patriarchal-looking man, with snow-white hair. He inhabited a cottage near Dunbeacon. He was as finely formed and athletic a fellow as I ever saw. The peasants around regarded him with no small feelings of respect and affection, to which his excellent qualities appeared to entitle him well. He died at the age of ninety, in the year-let me see-1795, I think; and he possessed to the very last the buoyancy of spirits and the warmth of affection that more properly belong to youth. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulged in a sigh at the fallen fortunes of his house, but it was not a sigh of bitterness. When he died, there was less of the customary tumult of wakes, and more of deep and genuine feeling exhibited among the people than, at that time, was usual on such occasions. His virtues and benevolence had made an impression on all." 66 "I know "Pray,” said I," was not he the interesting old man on whose death you once made verses ?" "He was," replied Mr. R— looking downwards with the becoming diffidence of authorship. "Will you do me the favour to repeat them?" said I. He instantly commenced the recitation in a tone of unaffected feeling. "I saw an old man laid within his shroud- “His few thin hairs were snow-white, and his brow "Yet why lament? why weep? His hour has comeThe Christian has been gathered to his God. We weep not when the summer flowers fadeWe weep not when the leaves of autumn fall, And strew with russet brown the forest gladeWe weep not when the full-eared corn bends Its golden load beneath the reaper's sickle: For the sweet flowers will blow again in springIn Spring the trees will ope their soft green budsIn Spring the corn will push its tender shoots. "Old man! hast thou no Spring? O yes, thou hast ! THY Spring is heaven-bright, glorious, and unfading! Hence thou hast gone, from hearts that loved thee well Hence thou hast gone, from those whose infant hours "We weep-for sorrowing nature claims a tear; In happier worlds, that death has broken here. Involuntary tears rose in the eyes of Father John, as the lines he repeated recalled to his memory the ancient friend of his early days. I was stupid enough to try to change the subject. "No," said Father John, "we will speak of poor M'Carthy. I earnestly hope," he added, looking upward, "to meet him where we never will be separated. It is good for us, my young friend, to speak upon these subjects; by keeping before us the evanescence of life, they teach us so to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." LAYING A GHOST. The following ghost-story, by the talented author of the "Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry," although published some time since in a more extended form, in a Magazine which we then conducted, will be new to many of our readers. We now insert it as a kind of commentary on "The Haunted Chamber," which appeared in the 164th number of our Journal. In the town of Ballydioch, lived, about eighty years ago, one of those old, drinking, swearing squires, who was said to have been enrolled a member of that blessed confraternity, called the Hell-fire Club. The gentleman, to be sure, was not only a very jolly, but a very jolly-looking personage; being, as most toping squires usually are, of a high complexion, with a nose richly chased, and ornamented with rubies, carbuncles, and a considerable variety of those star-like gems, which shine in the glowing firmament of a good fellow's face. This jovial gentleman was said by many to have sold himself to the devil; although it was asserted by others that no such sale had taken place; and it was ironically added by the humorous vicar of the parish, that the bargain had been actually completed, but that the deeds could not be drawn up for want of a conveyancer; this, however, could not be true, as it was well known that there resided three lawyers within the limits of the parish. Others said, that Counsellor Pliant had drawn up the document, but refused to take any fee from the old boy, he having it in his power to throw so many briefs in his way, under the character of an attorney. Not a few were of opinion, that Satan absolutely declined having any thing to do with the squire in the way of purchase; but whether because he was a bad bargain at best, or whether the old gentleman thought that by waiting for a short time, he was sure to have the reversion of him in the course of nature, we cannot say. Certain it was, however, that a connexion of an intimate nature was sup To some of our modern readers it may, perhaps, appear incredible that such a club as this should have existed in the land of saints such was actually the case, however; and that in the recollection of many still living. posed to subsist between them, otherwise the terms in | of the club, although we must certainly grant that on that which the squire was spoken of by the people were any occasion he was the soul of the company. thing but significant, when they called him "the devil's own ould chap"-" the devil's own boy"--and so on, ringing changes upon such phrases as implied a very kind understanding between them. Now it so happened, that Squire Warnock had an old servant, who had grown grey and wicked in his service. There was no man in the parish, of any degree, who could drink down the squire-but Nogher; no man who had so many wicked jests, or who could give them such wicked turns as Warnock-but Nogher; or none who could outswear or outstrip him in framing new-coined oaths--but Nogher. On the latter point they were both unrivalled; and, indeed, it might be asserted of them, that if the oaths were taken away from what they said, both would be men of exceedingly few words in conversation. There was once a challenge to swear sent to them by Squire Trillywagger and his huntsman, the execrations to take place in the blasphemy-room of the Hell-fire Club, of which Trillywagger was also a member. The challenge of course was accepted; but Warnock and Nogher both swore nearly twenty minutes after Trillywagger and the huntsman were exhausted, or only able to double back upon the same oaths. Both, however, died: Nogher at the end of spring and a drunken fit; and the squire in the middle of autumn and an oath. Nogher was but a servant, and not of sufficient importance to appear after death, but Warnock's body was scarcely in the clay, when he was seen by the servants walking through the rooms in his usual dress, and by the neighbours riding about, night after night, on his favourite hunter Skewball, with the identical tin-boots, and flame-coloured suit upon him, in which he was in the habit of attending the Hell-fire Club. Indeed, it required no witch to tell them that he would appear after his death, for when the coffin was put into the hearse, the united strength of the undertaker's six black horses could scarcely move it an inch. Now among all who were present, none made more desperate efforts to get into the heart of the little knot that justled each other in the corner, than the apothecary -who being distantly related to him, had supplied him with medicine in his illness, and expected him to be remembered by him in his will. He caught the village doctor by the wig, which came with him, leaving the head that wore it bald as the addle egg of an ostrich, to which in configuration and brains, it bore a strong resemblance. The doctor caught the exciseman, as the best shield against illicit spirits, but the exciseman not being disposed to engauge with him, dived into the thick of the scrambling party, and threw Captain Culverin to the outside, who caught Surgeon Surfeit, who caught Bob Ruby, who caught the Apothecary, who, in his second clutch, caught the Doctor by the nose, which, in order to hold his gripe, he almost twisted off his face. In this struggle for safety, the Apothecary bethought him of the window, through which he darted head foremost into the garden, which was only about eighteen feet beneath it; he was instantly followed by the Doctor, who was followed by the Exciseman, who was followed by all the rest, and so rapidly did they succeed each other in their descent, that a very handsome pyramid was soon erected, of which the Apothecary, Doctor, and Exciseman, formed the base. The next morning the port and claret which they had been drinking, probably struck by a similar terror, had also disappeared; the story took wind, or rather the wind took the story to every quarter of the parish. For seve ral nights afterwards, experiments were made by parties of fellows, who vowed that nothing should drive them from the room. A certain species of courage, however, is often very valorous in the absence of an enemy. Every succeeding set improved upon the rapidity with which their predecessors had escaped by the window; some contusions were received, and some collar-bones broken, and one man declared that on getting through the window, he had received a most ungenerous visitation from the squire's tin-boot, which he said was applied to him in a part which he could not defend—with a vigour, toe, that spoke very feelingly for the bodily strength of the spirit, and compelled himself to suffer in the flesh. The spirit, however, soon began to visit every room in the house, as well as that which was appropriated to the use of the Hell-fire Club. For three weeks the clanking of chains could be heard every night; and a strong smell of brimstone perfumed the house--an odour which the common people considered to be a very proper one, as coming from a departed member of the club. The parson was now called upon, but the spirit snapped its fingers in his face with defiance, and perfumed him to such a degree with foetid vapour, that he never returned to grapple with it again. About ten days after his interment, half-a-dozen of the members of the Hell-fire Club were one winter's evening drinking in the inn of the town where the squire had lived; for this was the house in which they always assembled. They were, of course, stout, dare-devil fellows, who feared nothing like some of our whiskered and moustached heroes, who walk about with all their courage on the outside, now that there is no particular use for it any where else, or who are so ready to exercise it upon landlords, and waiters, and mail-coach guards, simply to keep it in action, lest when a pressing occasion for it should occur, they might find it unserviceable. At all events, these brimstone gentlemen who could stand fire so well, were sitting, as I have said, engaged in a conversation, whose ingredients were indecency, noise, laughter, and oaths. Over near the door was the chair formerly occupied by the squire; for it had been put aside until a successor with proper qualifications should be elected to fill it. Some jest or other from one of the candidates had produced a roar of laughter, which was certainly loud and long enough, though not so loud but that the well-known laugh of the departed squire could be heard to join in it with his usual glee. They paused, and looked towards his chair, where, to their infinite terror, he sat shaking his sides at the smutty joke of the last speaker. We said they were men of courage, like the whiskered At length, when all had failed, the Rev. Father Lavheroes of modern days; but for all that they exhibited rock was sent for, to free the house of such an unwelcome symptoms of fear, as strong as could be displayed by the inhabitant. For some time before he came, it had estamost common-place cravens. Their courage, in fact, had blished itself in the cellar, where the wine and spirits would not time to shape itself into proper attitude against the have been accessible to mere mortals, had they been disdanger; so, in the mean time, they became panic-struck, posed to try their flavour. As this display of his power and crowded up one behind another in that corner of the was considered very important, the Protestant clergyman, room which was farthest from their old friend and associ- the Presbyterian minister, and the Methodist preacher, all ate, Bob Warnock. Never did any man, after a decided attended to see themselves outdone, together with the reverse in his circumstances, experience a greater aban- principal inhabitants of the town. Now Father Lavrock donment of old friends, than did the squire upon this was a right pleasant fellow, fond of a joke, and, withal, an occasion. Every man turned his back to him, a strong intelligent man; and having been educated in France, he proof that he must have been brought low indeed, since, was well aware of the tricks that are too often played by full of flesh and blood, impiety and claret, he had jested ghosts and hobgoblins, so he at once attended the cal among them-the jolliest of the jolly, and the wickedest He and Father Cruiskeen, his curate, having arrived, they where all were wicked. There he sat, no longer the life I were shown into the parlour, where the company were The Presbyterian minister was next called upon, but the spirit was near tweaking him by the nose; so overwhelming was the odour on this occasion, that he retreated with an alacrity very surprising in a man of his years, leaving the squire to the full enjoyment of his power. After him was the Methodist preacher brought to wrestle with it, but it received him with greater contempt, if possible, than that with which it had treated the other two. |