the blest. This last display was too much for endurance. Poor Byron fell foul of the Laureate, and those who run may read. Dr. Southey, with the exception of Scott, is the most prolific poet of the day; and, like Sir Walter, he is one of the dullest too. The 'Curse of Kabama' has elicited many a d-n from its readers; and I should rather visit Lough-derg, than accompany the Doctor on his Pilgrimage to Waterloo.' The Tale before me has just been published, and is not calculated to add. to the Laureate's poetical reputation. It is, however, one of his best poems; and, though filled with mawkish sentiments, and abounding in puerile passages, it has some redeeming qualities. No. thing can be more simple than the plot; in fact the Tale is nothing more than Father Dobrizhoffer's prose turned into into Spencerean stanzas. The poem opens with an apostrophe to Dr.Jenner, the discoverer of the cow-pox, and then goes on: 'The hideous malady which lost its power When Jenner's art the dire contagion stay'd, Among Columbia's sons, in fatal hour, Across the wide Atlantic wave convey'd Its fiercest form of pestilence display'd: Where'er its deadly course the plague began [aid; Vainly the wretched sufferer look'd for Parent from child, and child from parent ran, [bonds of man. For tyrannous fear dissolved all natural A feeble nation of Guarani race, Thinn'd by perpetual wars, but unsubdued, Had taken up at length a resting place Where Mondai issuing from its solitude But thither had the horde for safety fled, And being there conceal'd in peace their lives they led.' The progress of the fatal malady is minutely detailed, and we are told that 'One pair alone survived the general fate, Left in such drear and mournful solitude, That death might seem a preferable state. Not more deprest the Arkite patriarch When landing first on Ararat he view'd, Like islands seen amid the boundless Alike to them, it seem'd in their despair, In this resignment to their hopeless case, The names of this pair were Oh! bliss for them when in that infant They now the unfolding faculties descry, trace The first faint speculation in that eye, For him, if born among their native tribe, As weening that therewith they should The water, or the aerial solitude; Or reptile that within the treacherous love, Now soften'd as their spirits were by They named the child Yeruti. On a day They in his tones of murmuring plea. Quiara falls a prey to the jaguar a The brother and sister grow up in their solitude. 'Love, duty, generous feeling, tender ness, Spring in the uncontaminated mind; Had liberal Nature to the boy assign'd. That all things tended still more close to They had no sad reflection to alloy Chance from the fellowship of human From their mother the boy and girl had heard of another world besides the wilderness they lived in ; and also of the pious missionaries, who had found their way to the residence of the South American Indians. These men, with beards on their faces,' the young people desired to see; and chance at length brought about the long-wished-for event. Receive their homage, to the immortal Paid in its just inheritance of fame. clined; [came, Little he deem'd when with his Indian band [way, He thro' the wilds set forth upon his A Poet then unborn, and in a land Which had proscribed his order, should one day Take up from thence his moralizing lay, And shape a song that, with no fiction drest, [pay, Should to his worth its grateful tribute And sinking deep in many an English breast, Foster that faith divine that keeps the heart at rest. Behold him on his way! the breviary Which from his girdle hangs, his only shield; That well-known habit is his panoply, That cross, the only weapon he will wield: By day he bears it for his staff afield, By night it is the pillar of his bed ; No other lodging these wild woods can yield [head Than earth's hard lap, and rustling overA canopy of deep and tangled boughs far spread.' The little party stop for the But he to humbler thoughts his heart in-night; and, whenever Dr. Southey sits down again to write for the 'Quarterly,' I would recommend his bearing the following reflections in his mind. His talk about From Gratz amid the Styrian hill he And Dobrizhoffer was the good man's honour'd name. It was his evil fortune to behold [void, cause, perhaps, he knows no better; or, perhaps, such leaven was necessary to please certain patrons of the Laureate's. The labours of his painful life destroy'd;erring creed' is pardonable, beHis flock which he had brought within the fold Dispersed; the work of ages render'd And all of good that Paraguay enjoy'd By blind and suicidal power o'erthrown. So he the years of his old age employ'd, A faithful chronicler in handing down Names which he loved, and things well worthy to be known. And now they heap dry reeds and broken wood; The spark is struck, the crackling fag. gots blaze, And cheer that unaccustomed solitude. Soon have they made their frugal meal of maize; In grateful adoration then they raise The evening by inn. How solemn in the wild That sweet accordant strain wherewith they praise The Queen of Angels, merciful and mild; Hail, holiest Mary! Maid, and Mother undefiled. Blame as thou mayest the Papist's erring creed, But not their salutary rite of even! The prayers that from a pious soul proceed, Tho' misdirected, reach the ear of Heaven. Us unto whom a purer faith is given, As our best birthright it behoves to hold The precious charge. But, oh, beware the leaven [cold! Which makes the heart of charity grow We own one Shepherd, we shall be at last one fold. Pour forth their hymn devout at close Feel it no aid that those who hold them dear, [pay, At the same hour the self-same homage Commending them to Heaven when far away? [chime That the sweet bells are heard in solemn Thro' all the happy towns of Paraguay, Where now their brethren in one peint [sublime? Join in the general prayer, with sympathy That to the glorious Mother of their Lord Whole Christendom that hour its homage pays? [cord of time From court and cottage that with one acAsceuds the universal strain of praise? Amid the crouded city's restless ways, One reverential thought pervades the throng; The traveller on his lonely road obeys The sacred hour, and as he fares along, In spirit hears and joins his household's even-song.' This is feelingly and prettily expressed. The Laureate and I will be friends by-and-by. The abode of the solitary family is found—the missionaries hear Mooma sing, in a wild unearthly strain. When now the Father issued from the wood Into that little glade in open sight, Like one entranced, beholding him she stood; Yet had she more of wonder than affright, Yet less of wonder than of dread delight, When thus the actual vision came in view; she knew; For instantly the maiden read aright Wherefore he came; his garb and beard [been true: All that her mother heard had then indeed Nor was the Father filled with less surprize; [tertain, He too strange fancies well might enWhen this so fair a creature met his eyes. He might have thought her not of mortal strain; Rather, as bards of yore were wont to A nymph divine of Mondai's secret stream; [feign, Or haply of Diana's woodland train : For in her beauty Mooma such might Which seem'd to be for beasts a fitting lair, Thus to behold a maid so gentle and so fair. Across her shoulders was a hammock flung, By night it was the maiden's bed, by day Her only garment. Round her as it hung, In short unequal folds of loose array, The open meshes, when she moves, display [dering eyes, Her form. She stood with fix'd and wonAnd trembling like a leaf upon the spray, Even for excess of joy, with eager cries She call'd her mother forth to share that glad surprize. At that unwonted call with quickened When in St. Joachin's the news was told That Dobrizhoffer from his quest that hour Drew nigh: the glad Guaranies young and old Throng thro' the gate, rejoicing to behold His face again; and all with heartfelt glee Welcome the Pastor to his peaceful fold, Where so beloved amid his flock was he That this return was like a day of jubilee. Not more prodigious than that little town Seem'd to these comers, were the pomp and power To us, of ancient Rome in her renown; Nor the elder Babylon, or e'er that hour When her high gardens, and her cloud[fell; capt tower, And her broad walls before the Persian Nor those dread fanes on Nile's forsaken shore [tell, Whose ruins yet their pristine grandeur Wherein the demon gods themselves might deign to dwell. But if, all humble as it was, that scene Possess'd a poor and uninstructed mind With awe, the thoughtful spirit, well I So well they knew to mould the ductile mind By whom the scheme of that wise order was combined.' The mother and her two children felt quite happy among their countrymen, and gladly embraced the saving truths of Christianity. The sudden change, however, soon af. fected their constitutions, and the good Father had the mortification to see his three converts die one after another. Such is the Tale of Paraguay.' Of the poetry my readers will form their own judgment, for I have furnished them with sufficient extracts. The Church,' I am sure, will not feel obliged to the Laureate; and I have some expectations myself that he will yet die a good Catholic. In the hope that he may do so, I recommend him' Butler's Catechism,' wherein he may learn that Catholics do not adore either the relics of Saints or the Virgin Mary. No won der the Doctor abuses Popery while he knows so little of its doctrine! ABSENTEEISM. MR. CONWAY, of the Dublin And his whole care fulcourse of life de- Evening Post,' has begun making clares That for their good he holds them thus in thrall, Their Father and their Friend, Priest, Ruler, all in all. Food, raiment, shelter, safety, he provides: No forecast, no anxieties have they ; The Jesuit governs, and instructs and guides: Their part it is to honour and obey Like children under wise parental sway. All thoughts and wishes are to him con fest; And when at length in life's last weary day In sure and certain hope they sink to rest, By him their eyes are closed, by him their burial blest. Deem not their lives of happiness devoid, Tho' thus the years their course obscurely fill; In rural and in household arts employ'd, And many a pleasing task of pliant skill, For emulation here unmix'd with ill, Sufficient scope was given. Each has assigned His proper part, which yet left free to will; comments on Macculloch's evidence before the parliamentary committee; and, I must say, that the said editor, Conway, appears as ignorant on the subject of Absenteeism, as any Irish editor need be. Í would recommend him to peruse an article on that question in the 'Dublin and London Magazine,' for August, ere he makes any further comment. I shall return to this subject. LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. THE trial of Daniel O'Connell, Esq. in the High Court of Reason, is now in the press. It will, I understand, be ready in a few days. The celebrated WATTY Cox is specially engaged as Irish reporter to this Gazette. The First Chapter of Accidents, Offences, &c. will appear next week. LONDON J. Robins and Co. Ivy Lane. Paternoster Row; J. Robins, jun. and Co. 38, Lower Ormond Quay, Dublin ; and all Booksellers, &c. No. 29. CAPTAIN ROCK IN LONDON, PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK. CHAPTER XXIII. OUTLAWED. deserved to be stung. Yet, if Ray-inspired the poor man at first with It is a trite remark that great events often take their rise from trivial occurrences. With me this was peculiarly the case; for the rencounter with White precipitated me on authority even before my father died. But, not to anticipate, let me continue my narrative. dent. Still the character of his The following picture, from an acute observer, will justify my assertion: The landlord of an Irish estate, inhabit THE progress of these memoirs has now brought me to that period when the scenes of my eventful life may be said to have commenced. Ere I enter upon the singular details which compose it, let me pause upon the threshold; and, like a dying prophet, survey at one glance the past and future. Alas! what was then to me the future has now Tim O'Leary, as I have already become the past; and, as I look stated, was tenant to Major White; upon the long perspective of years but, having seven or eight years of 'gone by,' and think of my coun. his lease unexpired, he considered try's wrongs-of my family's down-himself in some measure indepenfall-of the sufferings of my friends and the insults of my enemies-I almost blush for my late resolves. Am I not an apostate to the genuine cause of Rockism? Are not my peaceful counsels treason against the majesty of the name I bear?These questions I dare not answer at this moment; for I have just been reading the History of Ireland.' 'Alas! poor country-almost ashamed to know thyself!' can. not weep for thy wrongs. feelings are too intense for tears; and all the blood which age has left me now madly boils through every vein. England, guilty as thou hast been, I can scarcely curse thee; for, honest unlimited submission: speaking a Irishmen, the fault was your own. language that is despised; professing a reYou have always been divided;ligion that is abhorred, and being disarmed, and, consequently, a prey to every speculating villain who visited your shores. Once, twice, thrice, ay, a thousand times, independence was within your grasp; but, like the bones in Ovid, you no sooner acquired strength than you began to slay each other. Let moralists say what they may, our own follies are a palliation of the cruelties inflicted on us; for the man who had it in his power to free himself from a venomous reptile, and would not, My ed by Roman Catholics, is a sort of despot, long series of oppressions, aided by many the poor find themselves in many cases Landlords that have resided much abroad there are severe instances of a car riage towards the poor, which is quite un known in England. Nay, I have heard anecdotes of the lives of the people being made free with without any apprehension of the justice of a jury. But let it not be imagined that is common; formerly it happened every day, but law gains ground...........The execution of the law lies very much in the terror; but, secing his child safe, and being accustomed, like all Catholics, to confide in the protection of Heaven, he quickly resumed his wonted composure, and insisted on my stopping to partake of part of a jar of potheen. Sit down, old woman,' said he to his wife: God is stronger than the devil any how; and, since Lucy is safe, what have we to fear? The ould stocken has got a few yallow boys in it, and the bit o' land is ours for seven years at any rate, and agen then God knows what King reigns. Sit down, Lucy alannah, by the young Captain, who, I hope, will make a betther man than his father, though he's not a bad one neather.' Lucy blushed, and complied. I had often heard of her beauty, but until this evening she never appeared to me particularly handsome. She was about the middle size, elegantly formed, and possessed a most bewitching pair of ancles. Her eyes were blue, and her auburn hair fell down in ringlets of Nature's colouring upon her neck and hands of justices of the peace, many of whom are drawn from the most illiberal class in the kingdom. If a poor man lodges a complaint against a gentleman, or any animal that chooses to call itself a gentle. man, and the justice issues out a summons for his appearance, it is a fixed affront, and he will infallibly be called out. Where manners are a conspiracy against law, to whom are the oppressed people to have recourse?......They know their situation too well to think of it; they can have no defence but by means of protection from one gentleman against another, who probably protects his vassal as he would the sheep he intends to eat. The colours of this picture are not charged. To assert that all these cases are common would be an exaggeration; but to say that an unfeeling landlord will do all this with impunity is to keep strictly to truth: and what is liberty but a farce and a jest, if its blessings are received as the favour of kindness and humanity, instead of being the inheritance of RIGHT?'---, Young's Tour, Dub. Edit. vol. u. p. 40-41.' cheeks, which, though lovely, wanted that delicate whiteness which interested me so much in Susan. Lucy's rosy cheeks indicated health; and, as the painters say, every thing was in perfect keeping with the tacit promise of her countenance. Her manners were of that gentle kind which gradually wins esteem; and, before I had been an hour in her company, I found myself under the influence of a vague affection, quite undefined, but yet strong enough to persuade me that it was an incipient passion of an honourable species. My vanity whispered that she would not prove unkind; and I was beginning to feel myself very agreeably situated by her side, when Owen, my foster-brother, entered. Run, run!' cried he. Any place,' he returned.'Major White, and all his men, are afther looken for you at home, and are comen this way as sure as you live, for I heard them whispering all about it.' The thing was too probable to admit of a doubt, and too serious to be trifled with. I therefore instantly arose, and was on the point of departure, when Lucy requested to be my companion. Here,' said she, I dare not stav. Who will protect me? who will save me from the villain?' 6 I will,' said I, placing my left arm round her waist, while Tim grasped my right. Decimus' was all he uttered; but in the squeeze he gave my hand there was all the force of mute eloquence. Words could not have said as much; and, as 1 returned his pressure, I resolved not to betray his confidence. There was no time for lamentation; for O'Leary's only son, Patta boy of fourteen-spied the onemy at the bottom of the boughereen. At this alarming intelligence Lucy's mother gave her a parting kiss, and, with all the rapidity of persons in danger, we slipped through the garden gate, and quickly descended into the dale, the scene of my late rencounter with the Major. To my sur. prise Owen did not accompany us: he had come as far as the garden, but whether he stopped there or not I could not tell. For him, however, I could have no apprehension, for I knew his usual adroitness was sufficient to extricate him out of any conceivable difficulty; yet, situated as I was with regard to Lucy, I wished he had been with us. In the hope that he might join us in a few minutes we paused; and, while my ear was stretched to catch every distant sound, we heard the report of a pistol evidently discharged in the neighbourhood of O'Leary's house. Lucy started, and then involuntarily threw herself into my arms. In an instant the first shot was answered by a dozen others in succession; and, ere the last one was fired, my fair charge had exclaimed Oh, my father!' and sunk upon the ground. My situation was now by no means an enviable one;-scarcely two thousand yards from our pursuers Lucy helpless-and myself unarmed. It was probable that White's party would scour the valley; and, though it was possible that in case of such an event I might make my escape, Lucy must have inevitably fallen into their power. The bare apprehension of such a thing gave me inconceivable alarm; and, though I had resolved to protect her with my life, still I could not think, but with horror, of Lucy falling into the hands of her persecutor. Flight was now my only resource; and, by gently agitating my fair burden, I succeeded in restoring her to herself. A rustling among the bushes behind us proved a new cause of alarm; but the presence of Owen quickly dissipated our fears. I have done for him, the ould rascal!' said he. • Done for whom?' I inquired. For the blaggard Major,' he replied. Good God! I cried,, sure it was'nt you, Owen, who fired the first shot?' 'Arrah, who else would it be?' replied my foster-brother, with an imperturbable countenance. Wretch!' I exclaimed, how dare you take upon yourself to interfere in my quarrel?' Och, masha,' said Owen, 'will you not be afther hearing all about it? Faith sure it was'nt your quarrel at all at all, but all my own, astore; and sure ent I flesh and blud like another Christian? Didn't I owe the Major an ould grudge for what he done, the big onld blagguard, to my poor sisther, Kate-the very first of her family that ever disgraced a M.Pharland? I had it in for him; and so doing a little for your sake, and a great deal for my own sweet self, I gave him a supper of lead, which, like carrots, as they say, will never come through him; though it done that already, for I'm sure it went a mile beont him, for I pult the bit of trigger with all the veins in my heart.' And so, Owen,' said I, with determined coolness, 'you have become an assassin ?' |