Graham's school was in want of scholars, to supply which the poor were waited on, to solicit the attendance of their children: some who were immediately dependent on Mr. Graham sent theirs for a short time, but were soon withdrawn by the priest's directions, as the establishment required the reading of the Bible-a necessary part of the course of educution.

Ballyburn, for a whole year, continued the scene of rancorous animosity and dangerous prejudices. Father Kehoe preached against innovating sectarians, and the Methodist parson exposed the superstition of popery. Mr. Graham, stimulated by opposition, was unremitting in his endeavours to obtain proselytes; and he was aided by his sisters, who accompanied Bibles and religious tracts with presents that secured an acceptance of both. Sophia was more successful than any of them: her appearance and angelic countenance ensured her a willing audience from all she addressed; and, when she boasted a victory over prejudice and ignorance, it was only the pity of a steadfast papist, who was lamenting that one so good and lovely should be damned, which she mistook for conviction. The young are all enthusiasts Sophia, deploring the errors of the Catholics, only wished to be instrumental in their conversion: for this purpose, she missed no opportunity of conversing with them on religious topics (the only thing she understood); and, as those she spoke to only lamented her infatuated credulity, she enjoyed an apparent triumph where there was no opposition. But the Misses Graham did not fare so well; for, in place of confiding ignorance, they found the Catholics sturdy defenders of their creed; and those who suppose they are deficient in theological information should converse with them to be convinced how

erroneous that opinion is. On this occasion inquiry was forced upon them: Father Kehoe's preaching, like an unsatisfactory beverage, only increased their thirst for knowledge. The " Catholic Christian Instructor" was now read by all; "De Feller's Philosophical Catechism," translated into English, was in every man's hand in the village; and when the Misses Graham commenced a religious disputation they were generally defeated; for nothing can be more difficult than to argue with the lower order of the Irish, as they never answer a question but by asking another; and, as a child may puzzle a philosopher, there is no wonder that the shrewd papists of Ballyburn often confounded the Misses Graham. Watt Murphy joined the exertions of his fraternity; and so de sirous was he to disseminate knowledge, that he papered his snuff and tobacco in

religious tracts, and, in an emergency, once tore up a large Bible. His brethren applauded his zeal, and flattered themselves that the number of religious books disposed of by Watt must be ultimately beneficial; and they lived upon the hope, that, though their district school had then but a few pupils, yet, when the truths spread by Watt were properly understood, scholars would increase; but in this they were disappointed.'

The Catholics soon opened schools of their own, and Graham desisted from labouring where no profit en

sued.

Good feelings were beginning to return after the religious storm, and Graham and his sisters desisted from labour

ing where no profit ensued. The priest showed a settled content within by his exterior appearance, and "Turncoat Watt" was more sanctified than ever. An union between him and one of the Miss Grahams was spoken of, but no two could agree which of the ladies was to be the happy woman. Mr. Graham himself, it was whispered, had an eye to Sophia, who was now of age, and had a large fortune at her disposal; and, as religious people never forget temporalities, it was not probable that Graham would lose such valuable appendages of life as a beauteous wife and a splendid fortune. These conjectures were soon shown to be erroneous; for one morning the village was thrown into confusion: some laughed, and others wept with indignation, when it was ascertained that "Turncoat Watt" had carried off the lovely Sophia, and made her his wife, and himself the lord of her purse and person. Watt was a sanctified hypocrite, and affected piety to ingratiate himself into the favour of Sophia; and no sooner did he acquire an intimacy with the phraseology of his new religion than he applied his knowledge to forward his designs. The pious, kind, and lovely Sophia, fell a victim to the villain's arts: he courted her in the language of religion, and persuaded her to wed him by theological arguments. But no sooner did Watt incur the displeasure of his patrons, and secure all he could desire, than his real character appeared: he renounced the belief which he lately professed with so much apparent zeal, and turned again to old popery! The Catholics rejoiced at the recovery of the strayed lamb, and Watt's house soon became the rendezvous of priests and monks. The arts of practised argument were too powerful for the tender mind of the yielding Sophia: deserted by her friends, who reproached her conduct, she listened to her new acquaint

ance, and became a papist. She now shows the zeal of a convert, and none can be more attentive to the duties of her new religion.

Graham, soon after this marriage, quitted the country, and his sisters concealed themselves in Dublin from the

ridicule cast on them by the rudeness of wit and the malice of the thoughtless. Watt became a favourite in Ballyburn, and often relates the good fortune he had in incurring the anger of Father Kehoe ; while all lament that Sophia was subjected to the rude embrace of an indecent clown,' although this amiable victim of hypocrisy, still the religious enthusiast, rejoices that her marriage with Watt introduced her to an infallible creed.

This short detail of Ballyburn affairs

I will show the success which attends all

endeavours to convert the peasantry of Ireland; for an attentive observer of the Irish Catholics will be compelled to acknowledge for truth the philosophical remarks of Johnson, who said: A man who is converted from Protestantism to Popery may be sincere. He parts with nothing; he is only superadding to what he already had. But to convert from Popery to Protestantism gives up so much of what he has held as sacred as any thing

that he retains-there is so much laceration of mind in such a conversion-that it can hardly be sincere and lasting.'

In the tale of The Robber,' the author has, contrary to his usual judgment, omitted an opportunity of illustrating Irish life; for, had he made, as he could have done, the hardships which alienated Redmond from society arise from local circum

stances, and not from military tyranny, he would have rendered the tale more national, and perhaps more instructive. As it is, however, the Robber' is ably portrayed.

Of the illustrations we can scarcely speak as they deserve. To say, with the triteness of modern criticism, that they are in George Cruikshank's best style, is not saying enough; for some of them, at least, are, in our opinion, superior to any thing which that celebrated artist has ever done. Protestant Bill returning from Parade' has no equal,not even in the 'Points of Humour.' In this, as in the other emartist has surpassed his author. Nobellishments of these volumes, the thing is superfluous-nothing wanting. The Irish Loyalist' is indicated in every thing around. The look of supercilious contempt-the arrogant attitude-the air of military authority-the gaudy trappings-the tail- the boots the helmet-are finely contrasted with the poverty of the horse; while the sword dangling satire. The yeoman and his horse at the wrong side completes the appear so ridiculous, that we can readily excuse the laughing villagers who mock the doughty hero as he rides along.

Every man in Ireland can appreciate the truth of Mr. Cruikshank's pencil, for every one of them knows that the original of the picture is to be found disturbing the harmony of nearly every village in that kingdom.

VOL. I.-No. I.

G

this vessel was fixed upon for the purpose, in preference to many others by far superior to her, we are at a loss to decide; but imagine it must have proceeded from one of those errors which have so peculiarly marked the projector of these dis

coveries.

In Captain Lyon's last voyage to Repulse Bay, he commanded the Hecla, a roomy ship, possessed of every comfort, and containing every convenience; so much so, that Captain Parry has made choice of her in preference to his old ship, the Fury, now under the command of Captain Hoppner, and both employed in a joint expedition to Lancaster Sound. If Captain Lyon was deprived of his ship merely to gratify Captain Parry, we must consider it both ungenerous and unjust, for in their public capacity we conceive the scale of their merit is equal, and that the one certainly deserves as much encouragement as the other. A few questions might here be very naturally proposed. Was there a necessity for exploring the route purposed by Captain Lyon, and does that, necessity still exist? or is it intended that the party under Dr. Richardson, and that highly meritorious young officer, Mr. Kendall, should travel over it?

For ourselves we answer, that there was a necessity, and that it still exists; nor can we learn, from the best information, that Dr. Richardson's party will pass to the eastward of Point Turn-again. Why then not fit out a more eligible vessel, and give the brave fellows a chance of accomplishing their purpose? This might be done with but little expense; for the same provisions and stores now lying useless at the Victualling Depot would answer every purpose. The officers of the Griper have sustained a considerable loss; and they remained some time in London, expecting again to be employed. Upon Mr. Toms, the midshipman, it has fallen very heavily, and he is suffer ing for circumstances over which he could have no control. This gentleman has passed his examination for lieutenant, we believe, about six years, and his whole time of servitude exceeds that of several of our more

Having said thus much in favour of Captain Lyon, we now come to speak of the performance before us; and here justice demands the avowal that it is far from meeting our unqualified approbation. It is unnecessarily spun out-whether for the benefit of the gallant officer, or the advantage of his publisher, must rest between themselves. The whole might have been included in a shilling pamphlet, with the chart alone (for the plates are of no real utility); and then it would have been universally read by all classes of society, particularly by those who feel most interested in the events-the generality of tradesmen. The dangers and difficulties were doubtless very great, and much credit ought to be given to the adventurous band. Yet when we hear a British seaman, and that seaman a commander, gravely telling us of his being absent from his bed three nights, it certainly excites considerable surprise. If the worthy captain never underwent greater hardships, he has earned his epaulettes most cheaply: and if, in his future career, he does not expect to meet with many such troubles, we would advise him to lay up in ordinary as soon as possible; but, seriously, we regret that he has been led to make several of the statements which appear. They are only calculated to raise a smile or a doubt in a brother tar: but we will not be too severe-the captain himself possesses our admiration, although personally a stranger. It is his book we are criticising, and not the man. What our friends of Dublin will think of the following passage we do not know: it smells very strongly of a bull:'Soon after dark a large brig passed close under our stern, but the heavy gale prevented our mutual hails being heard.'

The Griper sailed from Stromness on the 3d of July, and arrived off Cape Chidley on the 6th of August, after encountering some severe weather. On the 1st of September, having entered the Welcome,' and with

out being able to rely upon their compasses, they shoaled their water, and, unable exactly to ascertain their situation, Captain Lyon says

'I rounded to at seven A.M. and tried to bring up with the starboard anchor, and seventy fathoms chain; but the stiff breeze and heavy sea caused this to part in half an hour, and we again made sail to the north-eastward; but, finding we came suddenly to seven fathoms, and that the ship could not possibly work out again, as she would not face the sea or keep steerage way on her, I most reluctantly brought her up with three bowers and a stream in succession, yet not before we had shoaled to five and a half. This was be

tween eight and nine A. M. the ship pitching bows under, and a tremendous sea running. At noon the starboard boweranchor parted, but the others held.'

The tide, which rises upon this coast from twelve to fifteen feet, was falling, and consequently great apprehensions were excited for the safety of the ship; and, after speaking highly of the good conduct of both officers and men, Captain L. continues :

At three P. M. the tide had fallen to twenty-two feet, (only six more than we drew,) and the ship, having been lifted by a tremendous sea, struck with great violence the whole length of her keel. This we naturally conceived was the forerunner of her total wreck, and we stood in readiness to take the boats, and endeavour to hang under her lee. She continued to strike with sufficient force to have burst any less-fortified vessel, at intervals of a few minutes, whenever an unusually heavy sea passed us: and, as the water was so shallow, these might almost be called breakers rather than waves; for each, in passing, burst with great force over our gangways; and, as every sea' topped,' our decks were continually and frequently deeply flooded. All hands took a little refreshment, for some had scarcely been below for twentyfour hours, and I had not been in bed for

three nights. Although few or none of us had any idea that we should survive the gale, we did not think that our comforts should be entirely neglected; and an order was therefore given to the men to put on their best and warmest clothing, to enable them to support life as long as possible.

'Every man, therefore, brought his bag on deck, and dressed himself; and in the fine athletic forms which stood exposed before me I did not see one muscle quiver, nor the slightest sign of alarm.'

verance, they all sat down in groups, After offering up prayers for deliand, sheltered from the wash of the sea by whatever they could find, they endeavoured to obtain a little sleep.

Never, perhaps, was witnessed a finer scene than on the deck of my little ship, when all hope of life had left us. Noble as allowed to be in cases of danger, yet I did the character of the British sailor is always not believe it to be possible that amongst forty-one persons not one repining word should have been uttered.

'At about six P. M. the rudder, which had already received some very heavy blows, rose, and broke up the after-lockers, and this was the last severe shock which the ship received. We found by the well that she made no water, and by dark she struck no more.'

This place was named the Bay of God's Mercy.' They proceeded after this up the Welcome; but on another occasion, suspecting danger when off the Wager, the anchors were again let go, but unfortunately were left behind. The cables parted; and the worthy captain had no other resource but to return to England, where we him; but hope it will not be long beare sorry at being compelled to leave fore he is again afloat, and prosecuting his intended plan of crossing the Melville Peninsula from Repulse Bay. Government cannot find a better officer or a more worthy man.

RORY O'ROURKE, ESQ. TO DANIEL O'CONNELL, ESQ. MY DEAR O'CONNELL, I have news for you! The Catholic Association is to be suppressed; the collection of rent' is to be prohibited; and your Committees of Finance, Grievance, &c. are to be deprived of their seats.

When first I heard of the intentions of government, my appetite (a very unusual thing) quite forsook me; and, though an untouched rump-steak lay invitingly before me, I could not taste a morsel. In vain did Mrs. O'Rourke help me to alluring tid-bits, and adjust the position of my plate. It would not do her winning endear

ments, for once, failed of success; for I was too full of honest indignation to swallow animal food.

True, I have frequently complained of many of your proceedings; and always thought that some of your associates had better be saying their prayers than making speeches. But still I saw in your body a refuge for the helpless and a shield for the persecuted; and, having all along regarded the rent as the fulcrum which was to support public opinion in its endeavours to lift the country into its proper station, it was with unmingled regret that I heard of the proposal for putting down the Catholic Association; and some time elapsed before I could recover, being a passionate man, from the effects of my anger. A bottle of old port, however, restored me to a proper tone of feeling; and, during the evening, I derived a certain portion of tranquillity by supposing it impossible for ministers, in this year of 1825, to persuade the representatives of a people pretending to be free to pass a Bill of Pains and Penalties.'The more I reflected on the proposed law, the more certain I felt of its miscarriage; and, with the pardonable extravagance of an Irishman, on the day of Mr. Goulburn's motion I uncorked six smuggled bottles of John Jameson's real malt, and drank success to the 'rent.'

How wofully have I been disappointed! How excessive has been my anguish! Not so much for the anticipated dispersion of the Association, or the cessation of the rent, as for the mournful conviction the success of this bill brought me, that collective wisdom, like collected verdigrise, is something worse than useless; and that, where deliberative assemblies are most numerous, they are least rational. Despotism-absolute despotism-after all, is most eligible; for then there is a chance of justice but, where the decision depends upon the majority, the result is easily anticipated; the greater number, in all bodies of men, being generally in the wrong. Let me, therefore, my dear friend, conjure you to say no more about reform in Parliament, for an amplification of members would only increase the

evil. Return to Dublin, call an Aggregate Meeting, and resolve to make George the Fourth as absolute in Ireland as he is in Hanover, and then you will be certain of emancipation.

I was never more serious in my life. Look at the four nights' debate on this bill-and nearly every member that has spoken in the present Parliament delivered his sentiments on the occasion-and tell me if ever legislators presumed to make laws for a country of which they were more ignorant than those who voted for bringing in Mr. Goulburn's bill. To examine them all, speech by speech, would be an useless and tiresome task; but let us select one or two passages, indicative of the candour and coincidence of opinion that prevailed among the advocates of the measure :—

And here he (Mr. Plunkett) would beg leave to say, that, amongst the persons who were most active in effecting this restoration of order and tranquillity, and in convincing the people of the advantages which were derived from an equal administration of laws were the Catholic priests of Ireland-not the Catholic Association, who arrogated to themselves all the merit, who wished to run away with all the praise that was due to the nobility, clergy, and gentry of the country. The Roman Catholic clergy had, without any dictation from that body, preached to the people the principles of religion and of peace. He said this in justice to that most useful and most calumniated body of men.'

So far Mr. Plunkett; now hear Mr. Dawson, the Under Secretary of State for the Home Department :

'Much as he objected to the practices of the Association, they would, he believed, be comparatively harmless but for the sanction which they received from the Catholic priesthood. Most of the evils under which Ireland suffered were, in his opinion, to be attributed to the influence of that priesthood. He regretted that he was obliged to make this avowal; but he felt himself bound, by every principle of justice to himself and to his country, to declare fearlessly, and without hesitation, what appeared to him to be the truth. It was his misfor