bation of their Sovereign, and cheered and encouraged by the support and good wishes of the great majority of the people, they will succeed, by pursuing an enlarged and comprehensive line of policy, in carrying those salutary and beneficent measures which will be found to be most in accordance with the requirements of the times, and the true principles of the Constitution.

Of all the Agrarian disturbances which marked the history of Ulster during the reign of George III., the most serious was the insurrection of "The Hearts of Steel." These were bands of the peasantry who made nocturnal visits to the houses of landlords, or of such of their own class as did not choose to join their society, and by the terror of their presence in large numbers, forced those whom they visited to coincide in their terms. The attempt to enlarge farms, or rather to introduce a class of landholders who have been since denominated "middlemen," gave rise to this disaffection, which at one time threatened to ripen into open rebellion.

"The Hearts of Steel" were in the heyday of their strength when our story opens.

The principal towns of the northern counties were garrisoned with military for their suppression. The terror of their exploits had seized upon all peaceable subjects, and no night passed by without carrying with it a story of fresh outrage. It happened that while the country was in this unsettled state, a gentleman of large property in a northern county, who had been for years residing abroad, returned to the mansion which stood upon his estates in Ireland. The immediate cause of the visit of Sir Edmund H to his native land was his unsought election to a seat in the Irish Parliament. He had not, since he was a boy, been in Ireland, and when he did return he brought with him unfounded prejudices, and undigested plans, a limited knowledge of the people, and a great dependence upon his own talents as a landlord. With a mind thus constituted, he was not long in embracing the novel schemes lately introduced by the neighbouring proprietors; and from the representations of those of his own class whom he had met at a grand jury dinner, Sir Edmund resolved to exert the utmost of his influence for the suppression of The Hearts of Steel. For a few weeks after his arrival, however, no favourable opportunity offered for carrying his intentions into effect; for the midnight marauding had in a great measure ceased, and the district was comparatively quiet. This state of things was not of long continuance. There existed, upon a remote part of Sir Edmund's estate, a man called Bernard Riley, who derived his subsistence from the produce of a small farm of a few acres, assisted by his occasional earnings as a " DogBreaker," that is, a trainer of pointers and spaniels for the neighbouring sporting squires. This person had, in Sir Edmund's absence, long car

ried on a practice of poaching in his preserves, and even after the Baronet's return he found it a difficult matter to refrain from his former forays. His conduct was at length reported to Sir Edmund, and he resolved to eject Riley as soon as he legally could do so. The requisite processes of law were resorted to. The ejectment was served, and Bernard turned out of his cottage and farm. This was a proceeding on behalf of the newly arrived landlord, which could not but excite much speculation amongst the peasantry, and in a few days the current report assigned as the cause of Bernard Riley's ejectment was, that he had been a Heart of Steel.

On a dark and boisterous winter night, a short time after the event above narrated, a party of men set out across a bleak, level country, which had once been a turf bog, and directed their course towards the residence of Sir Edmund H. The moon had been risen for some hours, but the dense black clouds charged with vapour, either totally obscured her light, or so shaded it as to add to the oppressive gloom. After a short time spent in crossing the uneven ground, the turrets of Castle H- -became darkly visible, as they rose from a plantation of noble old oaks and elms, and a whispered order from a person who seemed their chief brought the party to a sudden halt. Almost as the band halted the clouds had blown off a little, and the moon cast a grey light down upon the scene. The night-walkers were a number of the lower order of the peasantry, and the fire-arms which they bore, and the manner in which their faces were blackened, showed that they were a detachment of the insurrectionists. " Now," said the leader, as the party halted, " let him that knows the groun' lade on."

"Barney Riley!" said two or three voices.

"Ah, then," replied the person addressed, "what must happen must, an' it's myself that knows every fut in the plantin' for miles. We'll make for the path at the back iv the house, an' when I bid ye wait till I go into the yard, ye mustn't move till I whistle for ye."

"Never fear," replied the leader, "we'll stan' to ye. But, Barney Riley, keep it in yer mind, that iv ye turn stag or cowardly, by the blissid Lady it's a dead man ye are this night."

"Nabacklish!" was Barney's "reply, as he grasped his musket, and springing over the sunken fence, led the way into the wood. The tangled branches of the brushwood, and the darkness of the space beneath the trees, with the inequality of the ground, rendered their progress here much slower than in the open country, so that a considerable time had elapsed before they emerged into the field adjoining the part which Barney had pointed out as their rendezvous. Arrived here, they entered the circular plantation, which occupied the site of the ancient rath, and secreting themselves amongst the trees, the dog-breaker left the party, and proceeded stealthily towards the house. As long as his course lay through the open croft Barney stopped frequently, and seemed to listen intently for the slightest sound, but no noise being heard, he at length entered the dark shadow of a long range of trees, and gained the door of the stable-yard. As soon, however, as an incautious footstep echoed amongst the buildings, the growl of a watch-dog told him that he would be unable to make his entrance in silence.

"Wheesht, Cæsar Alana! wheesht wid ye!" he exclaimed, as he mounted upon the bars of the gate, and the animal within immediately ceased its growl, and commenced to whine for joy. Barney now found little

difficulty in entering the yard, and immediately applied himself to the removing of the window of a dairy, which communicated with the main body of the castle. In order to reach this window he was necessitated to gain the roof of a smaller house, and as in a "glimpse of the moon," her light fell brightly upon the wet slates upon which he stood, he had every moment to cease his work, fearing that he had become an object of attention to some one about the building. At length his exertions ended, and raising the window noiselessly from its place, he placed it on the roof beside him, and thrust himself into the interior of the house. For a moment after his entrance he stood upon the damp flags in deep silence, but no voice saluting his ear, he seized a pistol out of his breast, and prepared to proceed.

On the night upon which these scenes had occurred, a limited party had been assembled in one of the drawing-rooms of Castle H—; Sir Edmund and his lady, their daughter, and the commandant of a small garrison which had been allowed to remain at the castle, in consideration of the disturbed nature of the times. The evening had been spent in quiet hilarity, and they had each retired about an hour before the forcible entrance of the dog-breaker. Katherine H, on reaching her room, had dismissed her maid, and sat down to read the last novel of the period, thinking probably more of her late companion than of the hero of the tale. While she was sitting, thus half listlessly, she imagined that she heard a footstep in the hall, to which her room adjoined. She listened again. The footstep was repeated. She started up, seized her candle, and, opening the door of her room, demanded, "Who is there?” "Speak not, or you die. The Hearts of Steel !" was the reply. Katherine heard no more. She uttered a loud shriek, and fell against the doorpost.

"A Dhioul! I am caught like a grouse in a net,” exclaimed the dogbreaker, for it was he on his way to the hall door to admit his accomplices; and next moment there was the noise of footsteps on the stairs. The dog-breaker presented the pistol at the young lady and fired. One faint groan, and she rolled back upon the carpet. "Murder! Murder!!" shrieked two or three voices upon the stairs, and the ruffian making one desperate bound, drove the ponderous hall-door off its hinge, and sprung into the lawn. In a moment the young soldier was in the hall, and started with his men half-dressed in the pursuit. Barney in his flight passed the rendezvous, and as he neared it he exclaimed, "Fly, Boys! For the sake iv the Holy Mother, fly; for the red-coats are at my heels." The Hearts of Steel obeyed him, and, with many a muttered curse, started by the way they had come. Meantime the soldiers had not once lost sight of Barney, and when the remaining ruffians joined him, they redoubled their efforts to overtake him. For two miles they continued their flight, until they gained the bank of a mountain-torrent, which was swollen by the late rains. Here they were for a moment at a stand, but immediately adopting a custom often used in the mountainous regions of Ireland, they formed into a line, and each man seizing his neighbour's hand, the foremost plunged into the stream. They had reckoned, however, without considering the impetuosity of the torrent. The flood rushed along, the whole strength of the stream rolling in the centre, and immediately below the spot where they had entered, the river bounded over three successive cascades, which were called by the peasantry "The Salmon Leap." For a few moments the marauders held together by a

desperate effort of strength, but as they approached the centre of the stream their hold gave way before the strength of the great volume of water, and in a second they were each struggling single-handed with the stream. The light of the moon, as it fell upon the face of the river, showed to the soldiers who were congregated upon the brink, the heads of the group above the surface, as they wrestled in vain with the overwhelming water, which bore them still nearer to the top of the cascade. At length, a number who were driven into the margin of the stream escaped to the bank, and two, one of whom was the dog-breaker, disappeared with a scream over the cataract. Those who gained the hither bank of the river were immediately made prisoners by the soldiers, and those who made the opposite rampart escaped into a neighbouring wood.

The sequel is easily told. Katherine's wound was not mortal; she had escaped with a broken arm, and lived to be united to the young soldier who had made so gallant a pursuit of the marauders. Next morning the fallen river left high and dry the bodies of the dog-breaker and his companion. The prisoners were brought to their trial and convicted, and another month witnessed the execution of THE HEARTS OF STEEL.

REVIEWS.

British History, chronologically arranged. By JOHN WADE. Second Edition. Parts 1, 2, and 3. London: Effingham Wilson.

THE unanimous verdict of the press has been pronounced in favour of the plan, arrangement, and general execution, of this valuable work, which has already taken its place among our popular and standard histories. The present is the second edition, and the chronological order into which the details are thrown renders the work unequalled as a book of easy reference. Indeed, it may well be styled an accurate, comprehensive, and most useful literary and historical "Ready Reckoner." It is distinguished equally for its perspicuity, accuracy, and impartiality; and much labour, industry, and research, must have been expended in its production. Mr Wade remarks with great truth, that history, as it has been written, comprises the lives and deeds of monarchs and rulers, rather than the records of nations; and that the fore-ground is crowded with sovereigns and princes, to the almost entire exclusion of often more important characters, events, and occurrences. His aim has been different; and, by following it out carefully, and in strict accordance with the rules which he had laid down for his guidance, he has been enabled to avoid the defects which too frequently disfigure our common histories. Beginning with the British and Roman periods of our annals, and ending with the accession of Queen Victoria, the work includes not only every historical event of interest that has been recorded, but also every important fact necessary to be known, in the departments of religion, legislation, finance, commerce, science, manners, morals, literature, agriculture, manufactures, statistics, &c. The work thus furnishes a complete and accessible record of whatever relates to the political, commercial, intellectual, and social progress of Great Britain, since the

VOL. I. NO. VI.

3 H

earliest period of authentic history to the present time. The introductory notices to the respective reigns are concisely and ably written; and, on the whole, we can, with the utmost confidence, recommend this publication as a safe, accurate, and impartial Dictionary of British History and Chronology.

The History of the British Empire in India. By EDWARD THORNTON, Esq. Part III. London: W. H. Allen & Co.

THE two first numbers of this truly valuable work were noticed in our last. The present part gives an account of some of the British operations in Bengal, during the years 1756-1757, chiefly under Lord Clive. Mr Thornton seems master of his subject, and the publication must prove interesting, not only to persons connected with India, but to all who wish to possess a complete, well-written, and impartial history of our magnificent Empire in the East.

66

Jest and Earnest. London: Hugh Cunningham, 1841.

TWENTY papers, being sketches of manners and society, of the most agreeable reading, will be found in this neat volume, which will form an excellent parlour-window book in summer, and an entertaining fireside companion in winter. It is just such a book, in short, as one would wish to take into the garden arbour to enliven a half-hour's leisure withal, or carry to the hill-side when going for a solitary walk on a fine summer day. The author possesses a light and happy style of his own, and treats of grave and gay subjects with equal skill and readiness. In the Retrospective Glance at the Manners and Customs of the Nineteenth Century," there is much good-humoured satire, agreeably expressed. The article entitled "Entertainment on the Road" furnishes the reader with a diverting account of a vagabond by act of Parliament, in other words, a strolling-player. Among the best of the papers are," Unredeemed Pledges;"" On the Art of Keeping up Appearances;" "A Lounge in Regent Street;"" Five Minutes," which contains a good deal of truth; "Fashion and Taste;" and "Pen and Ink Portraits." The volume is illustrated with an appropriate title-page, designed by R. J. Homerton, and engraved on wood by Orrin Smith, in his best manner.

Regulus, the noblest Roman of them all. A Tragedy, in Five Acts. By JACOB JONES, Esq., Barrister-at-Law. London: Miller.

We know not if Mr Jones be one of the Syncretics who fancy that the whole business of a man's life is to perpetrate bad tragedies, and go about puffing themselves as the most eminent of dramatists, at the same time denouncing managers as the most hard-hearted of tyrants, who refuse to allow them a chance of acquiring Shaksperian fame, by ruthlessly rejecting their tragical effusions as often as any are offered for representation. We hope he is not, for he possesses talents of a higher order than the Herauds, Tomlines, Stephens, and the other ranting members of the Suffolk Street Club of embryo Shirleys, Massingers, and Ben Jonsons, can boast of. Nevertheless, we think that we can detect something in the Preface to " Regulus" which savours somewhat strongly of Syncretism.

"The Theatre shares with the Pulpit the teaching of mankind.

"No sermon that was ever delivered from the pulpit could more eloquently enforce the commandment, Thou shalt do no murder,' than the representation of Macbeth. "