"He lives, nor yet is past his manhood's prime, He suffered little change when he became the lord of Abbey. The habits which had been formed remained. His simple manners, his parsimonious disposition, and negligent dress, but ill accorded with his new situation; and he continued to pursue, in his laboratory, as a recreation, those mechanical employments at which he once toiled in the forge for a livelihood. But the greatest of men are subject to the vicissitudes of life; and even royalty itself has, more than once during the present age, been compelled to travel as a mendicant, and seek an asylum in a strange land. Some dark dispensation of a similar nature may have compelled the courtly Rushy-man to sojourn among the mountain peasants of Ireland. Even were he an outlaw, he might have trusted them with perfect security. The Irish are remarkable for their fidelity to the unfortunate. When Hamilton Rowan was making his escape to France, a paper was thrown into the boat in which he was rowed, from a vessel that passed by. It proved to be a government proclamation, offering a large reward for his appre COUNTRY CHAPEL. 25 hension. The men read the proclamation, and scrutinized their passenger; and when no more doubt remained of his identity, they were engaged in the most anxious deliberation as to the course to be pursued. They seemed about to yield to the temptation, when he exclaimed, You are right, boys. I am wholly in your power; but you are Irishmen !” A blush of shame tinged for a moment their weather-beaten cheeks; they flung the paper overboard, and rowed away from the Irish shore with all their might. The Scotch are not less chivalrous in this respect. The last prince of the house of Stuart was sheltered by a poor man, when he might have received £30,000 for betraying him. But he nobly resisted. With what painful interest, then, must we learn the fact that this very man was hung afterwards for stealing a cow! But I am afraid your attention has been too long diverted from the object of our trip over the hills, which was, you will remember, to hear a popular preacher in the chapel of C. This was a large building, occupying a picturesque situation on an eminence crowned by some young and flourishing trees. The chapel yard itself was adorned with evergreens, and kept in very neat order. As usual, the house was totally B destitute of seats. We endeavoured to get near the altar; but the pressure of the dense mass of people behind rendered the position very unconfortable. The Priest was rather a young man, tall and athletic, possessing a powerful voice, and a free and energetic manner of delivery. After the distribution of the consecrated wafer, he commenced his address to the people. It was not the exposition of a text, nor a comment on the Gospel of the day; but a fierce harangue on the conduct of one of his parishioners. "I was," said he, "at the assizes the other day. I sat near the judge; and there I saw one of my parishioners deliberately perjure himself, to save the horse-stealers that he had harboured in his house. But I will empty that abominable den of thieves. Could I avoid blushing, my friends, when the judge looked at me, and shook his head as much as to say, 'Is this the sort of people you have in your parish?' But that old perjurer (I see him there below at the door)— that old perjurer shall feel the consequences of his crime. You may rest assured of that." At this moment, an old man with a deep sepulchral voice was heard uttering, in Irish, an indignant contradiction of the statement of the Priest, at the same time advancing from the front door towards the altar. EXCOMMUNICATION. 27 "Put him out," exclaimed his reverence, in a voice of thunder, that seemed to strike terror into every heart. The people, however, did not obey, but mechanically opened a passage for the hoary sinner, who boldly advanced, and confronted his accuser at the steps of the altar. "Put him out, I say," reiterated Father M, with increased vehemence, clenching his hand, and stamping furiously on the boards. Still no one interfered; and the accused, an old man of very repulsive physiognomy, continued to growl out his denial of the charge. The Priest eyed him with an undefineable expression of rage in his countenance. There was profound silence for a moment: it was a moment of terrible suspense, like that which precedes the spring of the tiger. His reverence grew suddenly pale, and his whole frame was convulsively agitated. But the internal struggle was soon over. He hastily pulled the purple vestment over his head, and flung it on the altar, and as he rushed down the steps, the dense mass of people gave way on every side, like a receding wave, and the hoary perjurer "stood alone in the midst." Alas! how unlike the meek and lowly JESUS was his reverend accuser! This professed preacher of mercy and messenger of peace seized him by the neck, thrust him violently forward, and then gave him one tremendous push, which sent him sprawling at several yards' distance from the door, which he slapped with such force that the walls trembled to their foundation. And as the noise thus created died away amid the awful stillness, it fell on my ear like the knell of damnation; and indeed it seemed to "Thrill the deepest notes of woe" in every breast in that vast assembly. Meantime, Father Mascended the altar, resumed the sacred garment, and proceeded to utter the terrible curses of excommunication, which he prefaced by stating that he was not angry, and that his mind was perfectly composed. "Think you," said I to my friend, as we journeyed home, "think you that what the Priest has bound to-day is bound in heaven?” Certainly," was the reply. 66 "But was there not too much anger and violence, and too little of the dignity that becomes the priestly office? Can CHRIST be supposed to sanction such proceedings, conducted in a spirit so opposite to his own? Are there not cases where the authority of a Priest may be lawfully questioned? Remember Father Cousins, and others who have, like him, apostatized from the |