before he had yet attained the fiftieth year of his age; in the seventh year of his consecration; and the twenty-sixth of his labours on the mission.

"Such was the career of a man who was an ornament and a blessing to society. He combined in his character an assemblage of qualities seldom found united in the same person. A judgment of uncommon strength and discrimination, enlivened by that eminent faculty of creating and combining ideas, which constitutes genius, had given to his mind a superior degree of natural eloquence: while a course of long and indefatigable application to the acquirement of useful knowledge; and an ardent zeal for the glory of God, determined that eloquence to the most valuable ends. His mind could bend itself alternately to the most abstruse studies, and to the elegant pursuits of imagination and taste. His public discourses invariably bore the stamp of a great and original mind. Subjects which seemed the least susceptible of ornament, were rendered attractive by his genius surrounding them with illustrations sometimes borrowed from the most sublime works of nature,

and sometimes from the most exquisite productious of the fine arts, which he had beheld in their perfection during his residence in Italy: and all expressed in language so familiar, that the most simple mind was capable of conceiving it.

"Never perhaps was there a man under such circumstances, so totally divested of literary pride. He valued his faculties and acquirements merely as they were capable of being made useful to others: and it is well known to those who enjoyed an intimate intercourse with him, that from the time when he undertook the care of this great parish, he neglected almost en tirely the regular composition of his sermons conceiving that his time was demanded by more humble duties. He was a man above the influence of human respect. While he consumed a

greater portion of his revenues in the relief of the indigent, than almost any one in a like situation, had ever done; he scrupulously avoided all ostentation. He was never seen surrounded by those impostors who live on the credulity of others: but he gave charity, with the same wisdom and reflection that pervaded all his actions; effectually assisting those whom he found to be real objects; and often bestowing such sums as contributed to the permanent comforts of entire families. With all these great qualities he possessed a heart formed for the finest affections, overflowing with unaffected benevolence towards all his fellow creatures, and singularly ardent in its friendships. His manners bore that dignified simplicity peculiar to great minds which are placed above the want of those ar tificial ornaments so necessary to give dignity to the lesser characters: and he was accessible alike to all, in the spirit of this maxim of the Holy Ghosthave they made thee a ruler? be not lifted up: but be among them as one of themselves.-Ecclesiasticus 32. ch."

TO CON. CATSPAW,

Who writes the long winded Paragraphs Who writes the long winded Paragraphs for the Weekly Messenger.

DR. CON.

I cannot help thinking you are the most incorrigible man I ever yet undertook to lead from the paths of error: all the pains I have taken, all the time I have spent in writing letters of advice seem to be totally lost on you. Did I not warn you against panegyrising Mr. Scully and his squad, and you would not heed my caution? Did I not admonish you, not to be attributing oratorical talents to Doctor Drumgoole and his colleagues, and you did not attend to my instruction? Did I not recommend it strongly to you not to grapple with Watty Cox or Doctor Brennan, and you have shewn yourself manifestly heedless of my recommendation? You supposed when I first addressed you, 3S2

that

that I was only humbugging; but I am sure that you will now acknowledge that I meant well, and that if you had followed my advice it would have saved you a world of mental misery. "Its one that runneth in haste, and leapeth over a fence, may fall into a pit on the other side, which he doth not see so is the man that plungeth suddenly into any action before he hath considered the consequences thereof" thus have you acted-by so doing, have you brought down on your devoted head the indignation of the Dublin Catholics, and the immeasureable wrath of Watty and the Doctor. You wanted to "couch a lance with Watty," and sure, you fool, you are no more to him, than "I to Hercules :" and as for the Doctor, I very much fear he will ballad you out of Dublin. I was much pleased with the abuse you gave him in the letter you wrote for Robert Connolly, and I applaud highly such a style of argument; for what signifies a man attempting to argue by syllogism, when he has nothing to argue upon you called him a power of names, and all the fault I have to find with your letters, is, that you borrowed all your abuse from antient and modern plays and poems: whereas, if the Doctor went for to abuse any body, he would give it in as original a stile as you ever heard tatteration from a shoe boy or a coal porter: and as for Watty, he certainly gave you a touch of the Attic in that horrid letter he wrote. Such a letter! I assure you, it made my hair stand erect " like quills upon the fretful porcupine:" he is a shocking fellow! to go tell truth without disguise or reserve: he does not know a "thing or two" like yourself, for if he did, you know he might lacerate and stab in the dark, and shield himself behind the person of a Tipperary Lawyer, or a stupid Thomas-street printer: or if he was charged with a crime he would stoutly deny it; but you now see what a simpleton Watty Cox is, how he states

facts fearless of the consequences. It was an unlucky essay of yours that extorted that letter from him, for you might have gone on insinuating about Union Stars, and Irish Magazines, and assassins; and the big pawnbroker, and the big Beggarman, and all your other loyal acquaintances, would give you dinners, and suppers, and new cloths, for writing Watty and his Magazine out of Dublin: but his simplicity has unfortunately been an overmatch for your ingenuity. You thought the Tipperary and Kerry Lawyers, and the bothering Docter, and Jack Squintum, and pistol Jackanapes, and all the other Phelim O'Hara's, would have made your fortune; but you see they only wanted to take their turn out of you, or squeeze you dry like a spunge and then fling you away; for they allowed poor Robert Connolly to lie in Goal six days for a debt of thirty pounds, and suffered you and the big Pawnbroker, to be hawking bills and notes, to Attorneys and Beggarmen every where in Dublin, to relieve poor Connolly from his distresses. I leave it to you, was this good treatment to yourself and Robert? After risking your character with the Citizens of Dublin, as a man of truth, of candour, and principle: and Connolly exposing himself to the chance of a place in the pillory; to desert you both for a sum of thirty pounds! fie upon them! they have completely outwitted you; but if you had known as much of them as I do, they never could have practised any deception on you: and I am sure, after your late experience of them, I need not caution you how to act in future. I hope if you ever engage in their service again, you will take care to be paid before hand; do, and my blessing be about you! I was sure and certain that the Doctor and Watty had so fretted you, that you died of a broken heart; for I met Doctor Drumgoole yesterday in Westmore. land-street, and he had a fine new black

but I afterwards heard that you and Jack Squintum, and Pistol Jackanapes, were to dine that day with him: and his every day coat was so bedaubed with snuff, that he put on his Committee frock to entertain his company. Will you now take a little bit of advice from me? (mayhap the last I shall ever give you)-Don't be entering into Catholic quarrels; for it cannot be material to you what their fate may be, as you cannot be involved in it, not being one. I grant, if you are employed by their enemies, you have succeeded amazingly for your patrons, and deserve well of the Big Beggarman and his fraternity. Don't oppose yourself to Catholic talents hereafter; for, although you might have done very well as squibber to the Messenger, and had obtained with many persons a character for ingenuity, yet when comparisons, were made by judges, between your Bob Connolly letters, Doctor Brennan's, and N. L's, not to mention others, the difference between your plagiarisms, and the native talent displayed by them, was visible enough to establish your litterary fame. So you see what it is for squibbers like you and myself, to write on without fear or wit; " a close mouth makes a wise head," and conceals ignorance to boot. Bob Conolly's last letter to Doctor Brenan, says "you are sick of him," I can easily credit that, for I guessed when you rejected my first admonition, you would be mortally sickened by some honest Catholic before you would be quiet. I conclude now, hoping, that as example is more powerful than precept, experience has taught you that, which my friendly advice could not.

THE INFORMER'S CATECHISM

Q. Who made you?
A. The Major.

Q. What did he make you? A. He made me a loyal man, toơ support the Constitution, and able to support myself without working. Q. How did he make you?

A. He told me, I ought, would, should, and must be hanged, and that unless I did what he bid me, the devil would have my soul, and my body should rot on a gibbet.

Q. What did you feel when he told you that?

A. I felt as if I was already in hell without being hanged, and I told him my soul and body were entirely at his service.

Q. What makes a good informer?

A. Not to fear God or the Devil; and to fear, love, reverence, and honor the Major.

Q. What's the chief duty of an informer?

A. An informer should be as ready with his soul as a soldier is with his hody on the day of battle-he should feel remorse of conscience as a soldier feels cowardice, a disgrace to his character-he should swear whatever his Major desired, and like a soldier ask no question but do his duty.

Q. What are the three sins crying to the C- for vengeance?

A. Wearing any green colour-singing Erin go bragh-and abusing the Major. Q What are the cardinal virtues of the C-?

A. Robbing disaffected houses swearing away the lives of suspected characters and honesty towards the Major.

Q. What are the seven C- deadly sins?

A. Croppyism-Popery-Love of Ireland-abuse of the Major-claiming blood money-going to Masscontrition for guilt.

Q. What are the ten commandments of the Major?

1. I am the great Major, you shall have no other master than me. 2. Remember

2. Remember that you go not to Mass on a Sabbath or other day.

3. Speak well of Jemmy O'Brien. 4. Never say the Major owed him blood-money.

5. Thou shalt swear whatever you are desired.

6. Thou shalt not make unto thyself a property of spoons, watches, or pictures, taken from the disaffected; but give them to the Major.

7. Honour the Major more than father or mother, that you may get a long day when you are going to be hanged.

8. Never say you bore false witness against a Croppy.

9. Thou shalt steal all that is not

too hot or too heavy, if you suspect he is diaffected who owns them.

10. Thou shalt not conceal whatever thou hast stolen from a Croppy, be it a silver spoon, or a trinket, a silver candle-stick or a cup; but let the Major see is it worthy his condescending acceptance.

Q. What means the word loyal man? A. To be always ready to rob, murder, swear, and burn in defence of

the Constitution.

Q. What means the word Constitution?

A. It means something belonging to a loyal man; but I'll ask the Major what it is.

Q. What colour do you imagine is that thing they call the Constitution? A. Orange colour to be sure. Q. What do you consider to be high treason?

A. To make game of the Major, or to be a Croppy.

Q. What is a Croppy?

A. A fellow with short hair, and a pike on his shoulder.

Q. What is perjury?

A. I never heard of such a man in

my life. I believe he is a French

General.

A. Oh please God I won't be taken short, I hope after I make a little money to go to my duty, and drop the business entirely. Please God I'll die a good Roman yet-God-almighty is stronger than the Devil.

COMPARATIVE CONDITION OF
AMERICA AND IRELAND.

The tonnage of shipping built in America, from the year 1801 to 1807 inclusive, amounted to no less than 774,992 tous, while the whole exist. ing vessels belonging to Ireland at the same period, amounted to no more than 111,614 tons. Thus it appears that United America in the short space of six years, built seven times as much shipping as all Ireland could actually produce in fifty years, the probable age of any ship in the country.

ries of American Independence, that It was prophecied by the adversa. she could not exist if she presumed to dissolve the Union between her and the swered the British prophets, for Ame. parent country. Experience has anrica is the most prosperous nation on the earth, in consequence of her independence, and Ireland the most wretched by the converse.

be adduced, to prove the necessity of No greater argument than this could a Repeal of the Union. We have Act of 1799 is termed, ten years, been united to England, as the vile which the hired wretches who betrayed the most prosperous change in our and sold us, promised should produce appears but abridged trade, heavy taxcommerce and tranquillity: now nothing ation, a starving populace, and a turbulent peasantry. America, by being regulated by other men, and other measures, displays another character. She is the first commercial nation, or at least the second in the world. She is a stranger to taxation, her people enjoy abundance and the most perfect

ON

ON THE COMMON PEOPLE.
(From Rosseau's Emilius.)

It is the populace which compose the bulk of mankind: those which are not in this class are so few in number, that they are hardly worth notice. Man is the same creature in every state; therefore that which is the most numerous ought to be most respected. To a man capable of reflection, all civil distinctions are nothing he observes the same passions, the same feelings in the clown and the man of quality, the principal difference between them consists in the language they speak; in a little refinement of expression but if there be any real distinction, it is certainly to the disadvantage of the least sincere. The common people appear as they really are, and they are not amiable: if those in high-life were equally undisguised, their appearance would make us shudder with horror.

There is, say our philosophers, an equal allotment of happiness and misery to every rank of men; a maxim as dangerous as it is absurd. If all mankind are equally happy, it would be ridiculous to give ourselves any trou ble to promote their felicity. Let each remain in his situation: let the slave endure the lash, the lame his infirmity, and let the beggar perish, since they would gain nothing by a change of situation. The same philosophers enumerate the pangs of the rich, and expatiate on the vanity of their pleasures; was there ever so palpable a sophism the pangs of the rich man are not essential to riches, but to the abuse of them. If he were even more wretched than the poor, he would deserve no compassion, because he is the creator of his own misery, and happiness was in his power. But the sufferings of the indigent are the natural consequences of his state; he feels the weight of his hard lot; no length of time, no habit can ever render him insensible of fatigue and hunger; neither wisdom nor good humour can an

nihilate evils which are inseparable from his situation. What avails it in Epic. tetus to foresee that his master is going to break his leg? Doth that prevent the evil! on the contrary, his foreknowledge adds greatly to his misfortune. If the populace were really as wise as we suppose them stupid, how could they act otherwise than they do? Study this order of men, and you will find that in another language they will utter as much wit and more good sense than yourself. Learn therefore to the common people compose the most respect your species. Remember that considerable part of mankind; and that if all the kings and philosophers were to be taken away, the chasm would be imperceptible, and things would go on just as well without them.

REVIEW OF SWADDLING

PREACHERS.

If none but an Appelles should paint Alexander, and none but a Phidias should exhibit him in statuary, with what a trembling hand must the man attempt the task of pourtraying his superior a man whose conquests in spiritual matters, are as unbounded as those of the prophane Macedonian were in earthly extent! I say, who, unless a person adjudged by his conscience to have got the grace or power of doing no ill, can with confidence undertake to depict that holy vessel of election that Arc of the Covenantthat Goliah of Methodism-that Antipopery Sampson-that blessed and ever adorable Mr. Cooper the Swaddler?

The Apostles of our Lord were all called from a sphere of life unhonoured on account of its poverty. It is remarkable that all the apostles of Methodism resemble the apostles in this circumstance at least. From the coblers bulk to the brothel, (Lord be praised!) have we seen issue the thunder of Evangelical truth, and from the mouths of bawds, pimps, and procuresses, have we had the solacing manna-shower

of