ted, that, in consequence of some very untoward mistakes, and occurrences of by no means ambiguous menace, apprehensions were awakened in the breasts of those to whom the country was intrusted, that their system was not so very near perfection as it had been considered. When it was learned that, among Protestants of sound principle and orderly habits, in the middle and inferior classes, emigration was extensive, and that very artfully contrived toils were spread to entangle the unreflecting, serious alarm arose lest the discontented Orangemen and their disaffected adversaries might form a junction; and then it was discovered by statesmen, who had been clamorous for measures which should bring the principles of both into combination, that such a result might take place under circumstances, and with consequences, by no means desirable. Fear, it was said, had invaded even the seat of Government, and thus it was accounted for, that inducements were held out to certain leaders among the lately discountenanced party, to renew their intercourse with the functionaries at "the Castle." Thus also it was explained why the measures adopted, in consequence of the July affray, were less decisive than might otherwise have been expected. The yeomanry were not disarmed,-condemnation was not pronounced on any party at the dictates of the journals, -the eloquent invectives of popular leaders were not admitted as conclusive evidence; and it was resolved, that as a proper preliminary to what should be done, an enquiry, in the first instance, should be held, in the neighbourhood of the place so fatally signalized, by the magistrates of the county, aided by competent and confidential agents of Government.

The little town of - was, all at once, raised to historic consequence by the preparations made for the enquiry to be held there. As if there was reason to apprehend an attempt to capture the senatorial personages to be assembled, a strong force of military was ordered for their protection, and the unwonted aspect of artillery wakening the sound which threatens earthquake, as it was paraded through the streets-then, with the consciousness of power in repose, stationary in the little rustic square,

grimly quiet-supplied village politicians with scope for wide and bewildering conjecture, and had assuredly, if a town could speak, put life into stones, and galvanized the peaceful village it affrighted, into the utterance of expressions like those in which the tiny heroine of the song renounces her identity.

"Ho! ho!" says the little woman, "this is none of I."

But, happily, the interest taken in the expected enquiry, superseded that of the dragoons and the cannon.

The hour of meeting was come. The court-house and the open space before it were thronged with the population of the town and the surrounding districts. Many had come also from the more remote parts of the country, seizing on the pretext for an idle day, or indulging what was not an idle curiosity. From time to time, a man in authority would pass through the crowd, -the police in attendance raising their little canes, or exerting strong arms, if the command failed of proper effect. "Make way there-make way for Mr-, make way for a magistrate," and so the magistrate passed on through the crowd, and a thousand eyes followed

as the door of the council chamber opened to receive him; but no modern glance, when it closed, could claim, except figuratively, the praise of "seeing through a deal board," a department of sharp-sightedness, in which all but the very sharp-witted must be deficient.

At length the signal for opening the court was given. All necessary preliminaries were adjusted, and the enquiry commenced. While it proceeded, the truth, as already narrated, became more and more clearly developed. Contradictory swearing certainly there was, but all doubt was in process of being removed from the minds of impartial men, that the Orange party were not the aggressors-the countenances of their adversaries were visibly altered-the witnesses they had brought forward were incapable of enduring cross-examination, and the testimony against them was unshaken. They were preparing to enter a protest against closing the enquiry, affirming that they had witnesses in reserve, and the court was about to be cleared, that the magistrates might more freely

deliberate on the course they should adopt, when a whisper was addressed to one on the bench, by a person who had for some time appeared very earnestly looking out from the window, more observant of the street than of the court or enquiry :

"We have, I believe," said a magistrate, distinguished for liberality of opinion, "the very man we want. We feared, if a warrant were issued, he might escape; but he has given up himself, it would seem, and although the proceeding is a little informal, yet, for the ends of justice, we trust that we shall not be refused the assistance of the police, to arrest a person now in the crowd without."

The request was complied withthe name of the man to be made prisoner communicated to the policethe court for a few moments partially deserted-and presently, followed by a crowd tumultuously forcing their way through the narrow door, between two guards, Peter Fairclough was placed before the bench. "Easy-easy, man," he was saying; "Do you think I want to quat you?" [This to the guards.] He then bowed with something of familiar respect to the Magistrates, and said "Well, gentlemen, what's your pleasure ?"

With all due formality his examination was commenced and continued; and without any reservation, he detailed the various proceedings relative to the unhappy procession, not concealing the resolution adopted at his " public," and not afraid, it would seem, to confess his part in the fatal affray. He was, after some time, taken in hand by a very liberal gentleman, but lost no character in the conflict of wits. A few questions and replies shall serve as a sample of this part of his examination.

Magistrate-" You confess that you planned a procession by which the peace of the country was likely to be disturbed?"

"No-It was to keep the peace we had our walk."

"Did you think that carrying flags and arms, and parading with music through the country, was the way to keep the peace?"

"I saw flags, and guns, and trumpets, in yon streets the day-I suppose it is not to make war you sent for them?"

A suppressed murmur interrupted the deep silence of the court. The

YOU XXX. NO. CLXXXVI.

Magistrate interpreted it as applause, and he seemed impatient. "Don't let him ruffle you," whispered a friend at his side. He restrained himself, and, after a brief pause, proceeded.

"Will you be so good as to state, for the information of the court, what object you proposed to yourself in holding the late processions?"

"To do as our forbears did, and to show that we are loyal and true to the King and to one another."..

"Would you not think it a better proof of loyalty to comply with the wishes of Government, and to obey the Proclamation?"

"'Tis very hard to know what Government wants us to do."

"

Why?-its wishes were very plainly expressed."

"There are such alterations that the like o huz does not know; but if we did what we were asked to do a day agone, we might be tried and transported for it the morrow's morn."

"But-the Proclamation-did you not know that it prohibited you from meeting?"

"The Proclamation?-Is it the great prent paper that the wee chaps in the streets wanted to pelt with mud, and we would not let them?"

The Magistrate deigned no replyother voices, however, answered, and Peter gained his object-a moment's time for reflection.

"I do not know," he resumed, "that we minded you; but if we did, we thought it was only in play-likejust to have something doing, and we would not think that we would be clean right in not taking example by the Government itself."

This Peter said, with some little relaxation of muscle, which it was possible to mistake for a smile; and his interrogator, forgetting for a moment his dignified indifference, commanded him to explain what he

it better to do what was done these hundred years, for we heerd the Judge say, that it was not* by the

"Did you not consider it wrong to create bad feeling and occasion danger in the country?"

"We thought that the danger would be worse if we did not show ourselves men."

"Did you not feel that you might be assaulted during your procession?"

"We thought if we were afraid to walk, the time would soon come when we would be murdered in our beds."

"Can you not depend on the protection of the Government?"

"People say that, in the parts of Ireland, where our sort do not walk, the protection of the Government is not worth much."

Peter's examiner was again a little embarrassed, and thought it better to discontinue his unsatisfactory task. He, however, esteemed it advisable not to have his questions terminate abruptly, and thought it better to conclude by a few matter-of-form enquiries. Peter felt his advantage, and kept it.

"How long did the firing at the

bridge continue ?" "Till they run." "Till who run?" "The rebels."

"You should not call your fellow

subjects rebels."

"Your father still called them so. I heerd tell that your honour's self used whiles speak words of the sort." "Well, we should all use better language now."

"I wish they deserved better."

The enquiry terminated, and in the judgment of a majority on the bench, the Orangemen were acquitted. A report, conformable to such an impression, was made to the Government. It was at the same time urged, in private communications, that many circumstances ought to be taken into account, by which the odium of recent transactions would be materially lessened-that, in all cases, men are known to be much more tardy in their relinquishment of customs, than they are slow to acquiesce in a change of law-that

the celebration of the Anniversary of the Boyne had acquired almost the dignity of a religious observancethat sound policy would recommend extreme caution in the measures which should be adopted to ensure the discontinuance of such processions as, having long been favoured by successive governments, were now prohibited that the agency of popular individuals among the gentry should be relied on rather than the menace and severity of lawthat, in short, the Orangemen ought to be soothed and persuaded-that with this view no other public meetings, by which the spirit of the law was offended, should be sanctioned -and that such other just and wise exertions should be made by the Executive, as would furnish an answer to the objections often urged by the poor Orangemen, arising from an impression that they were proscribed and persecuted while within the law, and a violent and dangerous party tolerated in excesses by which law was outraged. Various suggestions to this effect were respectfully submitted in private and in public communications; but, at the Castle, "a change came o'er the spirit of their dream," and new devices were to be tried. The evidence taken on the enquiry would not allow of measures which should be of great notoriety and very extreme; but the "Patriots" might be propitiated by such inequality as should not attract public attention-and, accordingly, the Protestants in the affray were prosecuted at the public expense; and, though acquitted, were defended at their own, while many of their assailants were suffered to remain at large, and no warrants issued (at least executed) for their arrest. This partial justice was spoken of much, it told with mournful effect, in the next year's emigration. Protestants removed their families, and carried with them their disgusts, to Canada. Roman Catholics and Ribbonmen became their successors. Government thus were instrumental in supplying discontent to the Colonies, in preparing disaffection at home. They sent some refractory, but attached, subjects out of the land. "They have taken worse in their stead."

THIS is a mere catchpenny. That it is a genuine work of Mr Moore's, we cannot affect to disbelieve; but it does not exhibit a single one of his characteristics. It has neither the warmth of the voluptuary, the pungency of the satirist, the fierceness of sedition, nor the sting of treason. The truth we suspect to be, that Mr Moore is growing old, and the peculiar qualities for which he was remarkable, were not of that kind that could be mellowed or improved by age or experience. In fact, it required not only the ardour of youth to call them forth, but the gayety and volatility of youth could alone furnish an excuse for the manner in which they were exhibited to the world. We confess ourselves to have been so old fashioned as not to have been reconciled by any disguise, however fashionable, to obscenity and lewdness; and youth is not the season in which these propensities will expose themselves, unless they predominate to a degree that sets at nought the restraints of reason and conscience, and altogether overpowers that sense of minute and ingenuous modesty, which oughtever to belong to a young man. We therefore never felt the full force of that species of reasoning by which the

loose productions of Mr Moore's pen

have been defended, and for which, we would wish to believe, he is now ashamed. They might, we think, much more naturally have been excused as the deliramenta of an exhausted debauchee, than the offspring of that ardour in early life, which is so rarely disconnected with those virtuous emotions by which the open profession and the wild rejoicings of profligacy would have been prevented. But this, at all events, will be admitted, that the powers which he then exhibited were not such as can now be defended upon any other plea than that of boyhood and inexperience. They were the productions of Little Tommy Moore. The very name carried with

it something like a deprecation of the moral castigation which might be apprehended. It is true, they struck at the foundation of domestic and per sonal purity. They were seductive, contaminating, and licentious. The plainest precepts of religion were laughingly set at nought; the soundest deductions of reason were sportingly disregarded. But then they were the emanations of a spirit so brilliantly thoughtless, and so seemingly gay, and withal as yet so unschooled by the world, that, by common consent, a species of license was procured for them, in virtue of which they not only obtained a welcome admission into those circles where Master Tommy was caressed, but also disarmed the severity of many, by whom, under other circumstances, he would have been sternly reprehended.

Youth, however, has passed away; and we have no reason to be assured that old age has brought with it either wisdom or repentance. On the contrary, the same mischief which his early writings were calculated to do morality, by kindling impure desires, his later writings seem calculated, if not intended, to work against the institutions of the country, by encouraging insane political hallucinations. If this is not as it should be, we are

perfectly ready to acknowledge that

as might have been expected. His politics are, in fact, in all respects, upon a level with his morality. They derive their origin from the same source; and the spirit to whose service he devoted himself from the first dawn of boyhood, no matter how varied his occupations may have been, can have no cause to accuse him of having served her with a divided allegiance.

"The Life and Death of Lord Edward Fitzgerald!" What can have been his motive for undertaking such a work! Every thing of importance connected with that unhappy person may be summed up in one sentence; namely, that he lived a fomentor of, and died a victim to treason. He was totally devoid of any talents that could have raised him from an humble station, and owed his misfortunes to the circumstance of his belonging to a distinguished family, by whom he was brought up without a sufficient knowledge of his duty either as a subject or a Christian.

Poor Lord Edward! Had he been "trained in the way he should go," although he never could, under any circumstances, have been great, yet he might sometimes have been useful, and he would always have been respectable. He had feeling enough, if properly directed, to compensate for a very scanty measure of understanding. It has been wisely remarked, by some writer whose name we cannot at present call to mind, that instinct and intellect are generally found in the inverse ratio of each other; a beneficent providence thus extending a species of guardianship over animated nature, in proportion as creatures, whether brute or human, are unable to take care of themselves. We are therefore of opinion, that had this unhappy young nobleman been left altogether to the better instincts of his nature, and had his ingenuous mind been undebauched by the leprous liberalism which seems to have polluted the very fountain of his being, society would have recognised in him in him a fearless and gallant defender of those institutions which contribute to its advancement, while they guarantee its stability. He would have loathed the vulgar ale-house politics, by which he seems to have been intoxicated; and if he could not have appreciated, in their height or in their depth, the principles of a sound political philosophy, they would have had a sufficient attraction for whatever was amiable or generous within him, to prevent the disgraceful and ruinous connexion which he formed with reckless and unprincipled demagogues, whose characters were well calculated to inspire that quick disgust which would have operated as an antisceptic to the contagion of their principles.

But his bringing up was not of a kind that favoured the developement of his better nature. Patriotism in Ireland is a species of nickname which a wise man would be studious to avoid, lest his sanity

should be called in question. It has been identified with a brawling hostility to every thing English, and a braggadocio vehemence for every thing peculiarly Irish. The lower classes in that country are, to an extraordinary degree, quick and sensitive; and no people in the world are more readily excited by any thing that appears to reflect upon their national degradation. Their passions are easily set on fire by any representations calculated to exhibit, in an exaggerated point of view, the spirit of English domination; while they are slow to appreciate, or even to admit, the benefits derived from a connexion which, by identifying them with a great and powerful nation, has imparted to them the full benefit of wise and equal laws, and secured them at once from the evils of domestic anarchy or foreign subjugation.

Now the real patriot, he who in sincerity should seek his country's good, would have endeavoured to impress on his countrymen the benefits to be derived from the continuance, and the dangers to be apprehended from the abrupt termination of a connexion between two such countries as Great Britain and Ireland. He would have made it his business to shew, that whatever of sacrifice such a connexion involved had been already made, while time and wisdom were only wanting to bring to light the blessings of which it was pregnant. He might expect, by so doing, to encounter much prejudice, and to be liable to much misrepresentation. But his sense of duty would be paramount to every other consideration, and no desire of filthy popularity could allure him from the straightforward and steady pursuit of what his reason and conscience would tell him was required by the best interests of his country.

Unfortunately, however, the real patriots were as scanty as the pseudo-patriots were abundant. The Irish have never wanted those who would inflame their passions, while there has always been a grievous lack of those who would enlighten or correct their judgments. And the time was peculiarly unfavourable for the calm and dispassionate consideration of the great question which then engaged the attention of public