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As council and advice to take,
Ere they the chilly north forsake;
Then one disdainful turned his eye
Upon a red-breast twittering nigh,
And thus began, with taunting scorn-
"Thou household imp, obscure forlorn,
Through the deep winter's dreary day,
Here, dull and shivering shalt thou stay,
Whilst we who make the world our home,
To softer climes impatient roam,
Where Summer, still on some green isle,
Rests, with her sweet and lovely smile.
Thus speeding, far and far away,
We leave behind the shortening day."

'Tis true, (the red-breast answered meek,)
No other scenes I ask, or seek;

To every change alike resigned,

I fear not the cold winter's wind.

When spring returns, the circling year
Shall find me still contented here;

But whilst my warm affections rest
Within the circle of my nest,

I learn to pity those that roam,

And love the more my humble home."

We cannot say that any of the productions in this volume, high as is their merit, have pleased us more than the following. The two leading ideas in the first part are most poetically expressed, and the application in the end is very effective. It is written by Mr. Hervey, whose Australia we recently reviewed, and is entitled 'The Convict Ship.'

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Morn on the waters !—and, purple and bright,
Bursts on the billows the flushing of light;

O'er the glad waves, like a child of the sun,

See the tall vessel goes gallantly on;

Full to the breeze she unbosoms her sail,

And her pennon streams onward, like hope, in the gale;
The winds come around her, in murmur and song,

And the surges rejoice, as they bear her along;
See! she looks up to the golden-edged clouds,
And the sailor sings gaily aloft in the shrouds :
Onward she glides, amid ripple and spray,
Over the waters,-away and away!
Bright as the visions of youth, ere they part,
Passing away, like a dream of the heart!
Who-as the beautiful pageant sweeps by,
Music around her, and sunshine on high-
Pauses to think, amid glitter and glow,
Oh! there are hearts that are breaking below!
Night on the waves !-and the moon is on high,
Hung, like a gem, on the brow of the sky,
Treading its depths in the power of her might,
And turning the clouds, as they pass her, to light!
Look to the waters !-asleep on their breast,

Seems not the ship like an island of rest?
Bright and alone on the shadowy main,

Like a heart-cherished home on some desolate plain!
Who-as she smiles in the silvery light,
Spreading her wings on the bosom of night,
Alone on the deep, as the moon in the sky,
A phantom of beauty-could deem, with a sigh',
That so lovely a thing is the mansion of sin,
And souls that are smitten lie bursting within?
Who-as he watches her silently gliding-
Remembers that wave after wave is dividing
Bosoms that sorrow and guilt could not sever,
Hearts which are parted and broken forever?
ATHENEUM VOL. 2. 2d series.

Or deems that he watches, afloat on the wave,
The death-bed of hope, or the young spirit's grave?
"Tis thus with our life, while it passes along,
Like a vessel at sea, amid sunshine and song!
Gaily we glide, in the gaze of the world,

With streamers afloat, and with canvass unfurled;
All gladness and glory, to wandering eyes,

Yet chartered by sorrow, and freighted with sighs ;-
Fading and false is the aspect it wears,

As the smiles we put on, just to cover our tears;

And the withering thoughts which the world cannot know,

Like heart-broken exiles, lie burning below;

Whilst the vessel drives on to that desolate shore
Where the dreams of our childhood are vanished and o'er!

TALES OF IRISH LIFE.

THE HESE tales are sixteen in number, and embellished with many excellent designs by Cruikshank, which form no small addition to their own intrinsic worth. But the principal feature in their character is, their moral tendency and attraction by novelty: it should, we imagine, be no slight constraint upon the will of any man of taste, to read one tale out of the sixteen without reading all; for while the reader is made to enter, as it were, into the prejudices, notions, and spirit of a people, of whose real character, Englishmen, notwithstanding the proximity of England to Ireland, comparatively speaking, know nothing, he is at the same time entertained with the narration of well known circumstances, wrought into story so happy and so agreeable, as even to gain the good opinion of the lover of novel writing and romance. How well the tales are also calculated to please and instruct the Irish, the following will, we are convinced, sufficiently testify. The short space to which we are limited, leaves us under the necessity of abridging it considerably.

HENRY AND ELIZA.

"Henry's application to a friend in Dublin procured him a situation in the counting-house of an extensive bleacher within twelve miles of Armagh. Flattering as the situation was, he could not but join in the regret which his mother testified that he should go to the North; for the Turks have not a stronger prejudice against the Persians than the catholics of Munster

have against the protestants of Ulster : and, in truth, it must be observed, the criminal hatred is reciprocal. Remote causes and the existing difference in religious sentiments have created in the two districts rival parties, who join opposition of opinion to the most malignant animosity. The Orangemen of the North and the Ribandmen of the South, whatever their partizans may say of either, at least equal one another in hatred, folly, and bigotry.

"Man is the slave of circumstances; and, however unwilling Henry might be to trust himself to the fury of the Orange North, he thought it well to comply with the appointment, flattering himself that his sedulous forbearance from party disputes and religious animosities would secure him from insult; and that, however the Northerns might despise and ridicule his faith, they still would be obliged to respect his forbearance from wilfully giving any offence. His mother, took every parental care to fortify the mind of her son against the attacks which she apprehended the proselyting ministers of a condemned creed would make upon his unprotected youth. She also instilled into his breast the most prominent objection to the established Church, at the same time not forgetting to remind him of the essential articles of her own, telling him that it availeth a man nothing to gain the whole world and lose his own soul.' Mrs. Fitzgerald, though she had Protestant friends whom she acknowledged to be the best and kindest, was still so far immersed in error that she adhered to

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the literal meaning of the creed of St. was as untameable as a mountain deer. Athanasius, charitably consigning all In the careful attention which had to the eternity of perdition who did been paid to Eliza's sisters, though not say their prayers in the same man- she was not quite forgotten, she was ner as herself. Henry's sister only partly neglected. She learned every whispered him not to forget to write thing according to her own mode, frequently, and that she prophesied he studied or read what books she pleaswould be married to a Protestant wife. "ed, and boasted of being a pupil of Innocent and unsophisticated youth! Nature;' and if a heart the most innowhat a pity that your generous bosoms cent and generous, and a form the should ever imbibe the malign preju- most lovely and perfect, were sufficient dice of age, or surrender the purity of to establish her claim, she was worthy benevolence to the icy coldness of big of the title. In all she said or did there oted animosity. was neither affectation nor malice; for it was remarked that she never gave displeasure, except in doing something innocently mischievous, her conduct being as far removed from inconsiderate levity as it was devoid of formal prudery. To heal, rather than to wound, she sported her wit; to amuse others, rather than to acquire applause, she promoted hilarity by the fascination of her manners and charms that • Heavens !' could not be resisted. exclaimed Henry, still adhering to his rigid principles, what a pity she is a Protestant!"

"Henry was twenty years of age (one year older than his sister) on the day when he entered into the employment of Mr. M'Arthur, of Ballymore bleach-green. Like the man with jaundiced eyes who saw every thing yellow, Henry thought he perceived in every countenance, at first, the striking lineaments of an Orangeman, notwithstanding the placid goodness of every face around him was in direct opposition to his observations. Mr. M'Arthur, though a man of business, was not without the cheerful levity of his countrymen: he certainly hated the Pope and Popery, but still he liked a good fellow, and he knew some very good fellows who were Papists; but he never troubled himself with thinking of any other thing than the cheapest and most expeditious way of whitening linen, and the price of it, or he would have discovered that a whole people, however numerous, are composed of individuals who are generally hated because they are not known. He had not been more fortunate in having many children, than he had been in settling most of them happily in his own neighbourhood; for, out of ten, two only remained at home, the other eight being married as respectably as he could wish, and all living within a circle of eight miles. One of those who remained at home was a son, George, who was now able to take care of his father's concerns, thereby affording the old man more leisure to visit his friends, or to enter tain them conjointly with his youngest daughter, Eliza, who, though fast approaching that age in which ladies regulate their features for compliments,

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"Hospitality is the characteristic of the Irish: profusion in the South, that banishes economy; economy in the North, with plenty, devoid of profusion. Social meetings in Munster are frequent and extravagant: in Ulster they are also frequent, but never prodigal. The one borders on unostentation, the other on elegance; and both of them arising from the peculiar habits and feelings of the people: those in the South priding themselves on their ancestors, whose improvidence they emulate; whilst those in the North being dependent on trade, wisely refuse to squander in riot that which had been procured by patient industry. M'Arthur's house was frequently the scene of family meetings, in which a polished,though not fashionable,society gave charms to life,that those who never knew how much pleasure every shade of society admits of would consider a monotonous round of money-getting. Here Henry was admitted by that delicate kindness which feels for bashful modesty; and whenever he became embarrassed by any political discussion, which, in mixed companies, is

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unavoidable, Eliza was sure to extri-
cate him by some ingenious sophism
or some good-humoured apology.
This generous interfence, so unexpect-
ed, caused him to examine more close
ly into the virtues of this pleasing
creature, and to doubt the truth of his
cherished dogmas respecting salvation.
'Impossible,' he says to himself, that
one so good and truly amiable should
be consigned to unmitigated suffering.'
"The counting-house was frequently
undisturbed by the entrance of any one
on business in this secluded part of
the country: at such times Henry and
young M'Arthur were in the habit of
relaxing their attention from folios and
ledgers, and indulging themselves in
conversation. George M'Arthur had
been regularly initiated into the Con-
stitutional Society of Orangemen, as it
is designated by themselves. Bred to
business, his leisure afforded few op-
portunities for reading; and the little
he did read was of that select sort
which improved the absurd prejudices

young

which had been infused into his
mind by his companions. Whoever
thinks wrong, will think, also, incon-
sistently: George considered a Papist
as deficient in courage as he thought
him sanguinary and cruel. The histo-
ry of Derry he had frequently read in
Hume and Leland; the late rebellion
and the massacre of 1641 he never
could separate from Popish intolerance
and inhumanity; yet he never could
think but that Irishmen were the most
hospitable and brave on the globe;
but, when he descended from generals
to particulars, he could give his Catho-
lic countrymen no credit for bravery.
Against them he instanced Derry,
Boyne, and Aughram, forgetful of Lim-
erick, the Shannon, and Wexford.
He dwelt with animated satisfaction
on the patient and heroic courage of
Walker, but never heard of the con-
duct of the Catholic Bishop of Clon-
mel when that town was besieged by
Cromwell. He ridiculed the supersti-
tion of Catholic idolatry, but was a
firm believer in the river ghosts of his
own country. With sentiments like
these, he expected to see in Henry a
kind of Popish monster; nor could he
conceal his astonishment when he

found him a rational being. To atone for his erroneous suspicions, he made Henry his companion of a Sunday; and when they sometimes indulged themselves a little too late from home, he confessed that Henry was as bold, boisterous, and as good-humoured, as any Orangeman. A few trials convinced him that his companion could be a friend, and a few arguments showed him that a Papist was not quite as absurd as he considered him. Prejudice began to subside; and, like a falling body, the farther it descends, the quicker is the acceleration. In a short time George had very little prejudice at all.

"Eliza, like the fabled fawn, grew bold by degrees. She first visited the office only when her brother was there; but, as she became familiar with Henry, she never looked to see whether he was there or not. Her departure was always preceded by the ink falling on the ledger, the spoiling of the office knife, or the approach of her father; but, when the old man was gone to Armagh or Belfast, office business was frequently suspended. Her brother, though older and very steady, was obliged to join the sport. The young are guilty of indiscretions which fastidious age will condemn, but which venerable wisdom must laugh at. Eliza could dance and sing, and George and Henry were obliged to join her. Moore's Melodies were her favourites; for she was accustomed to say, They will teach patriotism and liberality to the women, and the men must learn from the ladies. Hepry in obedience to her mandate was obliged to sing, perhaps at one o'clock in the day, that song beginning with

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Come send round the wine, and leave points of belief,' &c.; the last stanza of which he was obliged to repeat:

From the heretic girl of my soul shall I fly,

To seek somewhere else a more orthodox kiss?

No! perish the hearts and the laws that would try

Truth, valour, or love, by a standard like this.

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ness never created her for any happiness less than Heaven!

"Ballymony was the scene of happy industry for two years, when some speculation made it necessary that George M'Arthur should proceed to New York, as supercargo, with an extensive shipment of linen cloth. Henry was to occupy his confidential situation until his return. George bade him take care of Eliza, who showed, on his departure, more real fondness than he thought one so volatile was capable of. The vessel sailed from Belfast, and in three days doubled the Land's End; but on the fourth day, an unexpected storm springing up, they were driven far to the westward. At night the wind changed, but the storm continued unabated: at daylight the south islands of Arran were perceptible to the naked eye, and, as they were furiously driven towards Loop Head, the vessel struck. Order was preserved whilst exertion could be useful; but, when the increase of water in the hold showed the near approach of shipwreck, each betook himself to the most expeditious way of saving his life. The boat was overloaded by the sailors-left the ship-and sunk for ever! The few who remained on board, among whom was George, clung to the shrouds and rigging. The grasp of the fingers was stronger than the mind; for the hold continued when they became delirious. From this situation they were rescued by the humanity of some fishermen, who saw the wreck from shore, but in such a state that they knew not of their deliverance. George was taken to the cabin of a poor man, who, like all his countrymen, adhered to the hospitable custom of his forefathers, by keeping a bed for a stranger; for, however distressed, and however unclean from poverty, the Irish peasant may be, a stranger will be sure to find, in almost every cabin, a clean bed and bedclothes. George continued for several days in a high fever; and the poor woman, to whose care he was intrusted, considering wine an antidote for all diseases, proceeded to Mrs. Fitzgerald, in the hopes of procuring some. The widow, hearing that the stranger's ap

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pearance indicated something above the idea of a common sailor, and apprehending injudicious treatment, sent her daughter to see what the unfortunate youth might be in want of; for a physician did not live within twenty miles of Nutgrove. Lucy continued her attendance for several days, during which the intermission of the fever gave George a sight of his guardian, who, when he was able to rise, insisted on his accompanying her to Nutgrove, where better accommodation might facilitate the recovery of his health.

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"Lucy was unremitting in her attention; and, as loveliness is never more agreeable than when administering to our comfort, George was deeply in love with his unknown nurse before he was able to inquire to whose kindness he was indebted for his rescue from death. A mutual surprise took place on the discovery that he was in the house of Henry's mother; but, as the generous impulse of youth never descends to calculate consequences, George had sworn to his own heart to marry Miss Fitzgerald, without reflecting on the double opposition of friends and religion. Lucy was the reverse of his sister in manners; accustomed only to the company of her mother, she had all the gravity of age in her address; whilst a thousand Cupids, dancing in her lovely eyes, showed that her heart was not callous to tender impressions. The recovery of George was now rapid: he walked first in the garden, next in the orchard, and then in the avenue, but never would be satisfied unless Lucy accompanied him; although he could not feel the soft pressure of her arm without a sudden thrill through his whole frame. On these occasions he had frequent opportunities of speaking, but he had not courage to confess the passion he felt, notwithstanding his thousand determinations to that effect.

"In answer to a letter which he despatched to his father, assuring him of his safety, George received one in return, desiring every exertion to save as much of the property as possible, as a particular part of it was not insured. On inquiry of the coast surveyors, he was informed that scarcely any of the

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