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diff --git a/old/54584-h/54584-h.htm b/old/54584-h/54584-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 5a0c605..0000000 --- a/old/54584-h/54584-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1971 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 27, January 2, 1841, by Various. - </title> - - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - -<style type="text/css"> - -a { - text-decoration: none; -} - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -h1,h2,h3 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -hr { - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb { - width: 45%; - margin-left: 27.5%; - margin-right: 27.5%; -} - -p { - margin-top: 0.5em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; -} - -table { - margin: 1em auto 1em auto; - width: 40em; -} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - right: 4%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; -} - -.blockquote { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.center { - text-align: center; -} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.footnotes { - margin-top: 1em; - border: dashed 1px; -} - -.footnote { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - font-size: 0.9em; -} - -.footnote .label { - position: absolute; - right: 84%; - text-align: right; -} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: none; -} - -.gap4 { - margin-top: 4em; -} - -.poetry-container { - text-align: center; - margin: 1em; -} - -.poetry { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; -} - -.poetry .stanza { - margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; -} - -.poetry .verse { - text-indent: -3em; - padding-left: 3em; -} - -.poetry .indent1 { - text-indent: -2em; -} - -.right { - text-align: right; -} - -.smaller { - font-size: smaller; -} - -.smcap { - font-variant: small-caps; - font-style: normal; -} - -@media handheld { - -img { - max-width: 100%; - width: auto; - height: auto; -} - -.poetry { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; -} - -.blockquote { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%; -} -} - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 27, -January 2, 1841, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 27, January 2, 1841 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: April 20, 2017 [EBook #54584] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IRISH PENNY JOURNAL, JAN 2, 1841 *** - - - - -Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by JSTOR www.jstor.org) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> - -<h1>THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL.</h1> - -<table summary="Headline layout"> - <tr> - <td class="smcap">Number 27.</td> - <td class="center">SATURDAY, JANUARY 2, 1841.</td> - <td class="right smcap">Volume I.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="figcenter gap4" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/midwife.jpg" width="500" height="460" alt="Night, outside the cottage of the midwife Rose Moan; a man knocking at the door" /> -</div> - -<h2>THE IRISH MIDWIFE.—<span class="smcap">Part II.</span><br /> -<span class="smaller">BY WILLIAM CARLETON.</span></h2> - -<p>The village of Ballycomaisy was as pleasant a little place as -one might wish to see of a summer’s day. To be sure, like -all other Irish villages, it was remarkable for a superfluity of -“pigs, praties, and childre,” which being the stock in -trade of an Irish cabin, it is to be presumed that very few villages -either in Ireland or elsewhere could go on properly -without them. It consisted principally of one long street, -which you entered from the north-west side by one of those -old-fashioned bridges, the arches of which were much more -akin to the Gothic than the Roman. Most of the houses were -of mud, a few of stone, one or two of which had the honour -of being slated on the front side of the roof, and rustically -thatched on the back, where ostentation was not necessary. -There were two or three shops, a liberal sprinkling of public-houses, -a chapel a little out of the town, and an old dilapidated -market-house near the centre. A few little bye-streets -projected in a lateral direction from the main one, which was -terminated on the side opposite to the north-west by a pound, -through which, as usual, ran a shallow stream, that was -gathered into a little gutter as it crossed the road. A crazy -antiquated mill, all covered and cobwebbed with grey mealy -dust, stood about a couple of hundred yards out of the -town, to which two straggling rows of houses, that looked -like an abortive street, led you. This mill was surrounded by -a green common, which was again hemmed in by a fine river, -that ran round in a curving line from under the hunchbacked -arch of the bridge we mentioned at the beginning. Now, a -little behind, or rather above this mill, on the skirt of the -aforesaid common, stood a rather neat-looking whitish cabin, -with about half a rood of garden behind it. It was but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> -small, and consisted merely of a sleeping-room and kitchen. -On one side of the door there was a window, opening -on hinges; and on the outside, to the right as you entered -the house, there was placed a large stone, about four -feet high, backed by a sloping mound of earth, so graduated -as to allow a person to ascend the stone without any difficulty. -In this cabin lived Rose Moan, the Midwife; and we need -scarcely inform our readers that the stone in question was -her mounting-stone, by which she was enabled to place herself -on pillion or crupper, as the case happened, when called out -upon her usual avocation.</p> - -<p>Rose was what might be called a <i lang="ga">flahoolagh</i>, or portly woman, -with a good-humoured set of Milesian features; that -is to say, a pair of red, broad checks, a well-set nose, allowing -for the disposition to turn up, and two black twinkling eyes, -with a mellow expression that betokened good nature, and a -peculiar description of knowing <em>professional</em> humour that is -never to be met with in any <em>but</em> a Midwife. Rose was dressed -in a red flannel petticoat, a warm cotton sack or wrapper, -which pinned easily over a large bust, and a comfortable -woollen shawl. She always wore a long-bordered morning -cap, over which, while travelling, she pinned a second shawl -of Scotch plaid; and to protect her from the cold night air, -she enfolded her precious person in a deep blue cloak of the -true indigo tint. On her head, over cloak and shawl and -morning cap, was fixed a black “splush hat,” with the leaf -strapped down by her ears on each side, so that in point of -fact she cared little how it blew, and never once dreamed that -such a process as that of Raper or Mackintosh was necessary -to keep the liege subjects of these realms warm and waterproof, -nor that two systems should exist in Ireland so strongly -antithetical to each other as those of Raper and Father -Mathew.</p> - -<p>Having thus given a brief sketch of her local habitation -and personal appearance, we shall transfer our readers to -the house of a young new-married farmer named Keho, who -lived in a distant part of the parish. Keho was a comfortable -fellow, full of good nature and credulity; but his wife -happened to be one of the sharpest, meanest, most suspicious, -and miserable devils that ever was raised in good-humoured -Ireland. Her voice was as sharp and her heart as cold as -an icicle; and as for her tongue, it was incessant and interminable. -Were it not that her husband, who, though -good-natured, was fiery and resolute when provoked, exercised -a firm and salutary control over her, she would have -starved both him and her servants into perfect skeletons. -And what was still worse, with a temper that was vindictive -and tyrannical, she affected to be religious, and upon -those who did not know her, actually attempted to pass -herself off as a saint.</p> - -<p>One night, about ten or twelve months after his marriage, -honest Corny Keho came out to the barn, where slept -his two farm servants, named Phil Hannigan and Barny -Casey. He had been sitting by himself, composing his mind -for a calm night’s sleep, or probably for a curtain lecture, -by taking a contemplative whiff of the pipe, when the servant -wench, with a certain air of hurry, importance, and -authority, entered the kitchen, and informed him that Rose -Moan must immediately be sent for.</p> - -<p>“The misthress isn’t well, Masther, an’ the sooner she’s -sint for, the betther. So mind my words, sir, if you plaise, -an’ pack aff either Phil or Barny for Rose Moan, an’ I -hope I won’t have to ax it again—hem!”</p> - -<p>Dandy Keho—for so Corny was called, as being remarkable -for his slovenliness—started up hastily, and having -taken the pipe out of his mouth, was about to place it on -the hob; but reflecting that the whiff could not much retard -him in the delivery of his orders, he sallied out to the -barn, and knocked.</p> - -<p>“Who’s there? Lave that, wid you, unless you wish to -be shotted.” This was followed by a loud laugh from within.</p> - -<p>“Boys, get up wid all haste: it’s the misthress. Phil, -saddle Hollowback and fly—(puff)—fly in a jiffy for Rose -Moan; an’ do you, Barny, clap a back-sugaun—(puff)—an -Sobersides, an’ be aff for the Misthress’s mother—(puff.)”</p> - -<p>Both were dressing themselves before he had concluded, -and in a very few minutes were off in different directions, -each according to the orders he had received. With Barny -we have nothing to do, unless to say that he lost little time -in bringing Mrs Keho’s mother to her aid; but as Phil is gone -for a much more important character, we beg our readers to -return with us to the cabin of Rose Moan, who is now fast -asleep; for it is twelve o’clock of a beautiful moonlight night, -in the pleasant month of August. Tap-tap. “Is Mrs Moan at -home?” In about half a minute her warm good-looking face, -enveloped in flannel, is protruded from the window.</p> - -<p>“Who’s that, <em>in God’s name</em>?” The words in italics were -added, lest the message might be one from the fairies.</p> - -<p>“I’m Dandy Keho’s servant—one of them, at any rate—an’ -my Misthress has got a stitch in her side—ha! ha! ha!”</p> - -<p>“Aisy, avick—so, she’s <em>down</em>, thin—aisy—I’ll be wid you -like a bow out of an arrow. Put your horse over to ‘the -stone,’ an’ have him ready. The Lord bring her over her -difficulties, any way, amin!”</p> - -<p>She then pulled in her head, and in about three or four -minutes sallied out, dressed as we have described her; and -having placed herself on the crupper, coolly put her right arm -round Phil’s body, and desired him to ride on with all possible -haste.</p> - -<p>“Push an, avouchal, push an—time’s precious at all times, -but on business like this every minute is worth a life. But -there’s always one comfort, that God is marciful. Push -forrid, avick.”</p> - -<p>“Never fear, Mrs Moan. If it’s in Hollowback, bedad -I’m the babe that’ll take it out of him. Come, ould Hack-ball, -trot out—you don’t know the message you’re an, nor -who you’re carryin’.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t your misthress—manin’ the Dandy’s wife—a daughter -of ould Fitzy Finnegan’s, the schrew of Glendhu?”</p> - -<p>“Faith, you may say that, Rose, as we all know to our -cost. Be me song, she does have us sometimes that you might -see through us; an’ only for the masther——but, dang it, no -matther—she’s down now, poor woman, an’ it’s not just the -time to be rakin’ up her failins.”</p> - -<p>“It is not, an’ God mark you to grace for sayin’ so. At a -time like this we must forget every thing, only to do the -best we can for our fellow-creatures. What are you lookin’ -at, avick?”</p> - -<p>Now, this question naturally arose from the fact that honest -Phil had been, during their short conversation, peering keenly -on each side of him, as if he expected an apparition to rise -from every furze-bush on the common. The truth is, he was -almost proverbial for his terror of ghosts and fairies, and all -supernatural visitants whatever; but upon this occasion his -fears arose to a painful height, in consequence of the popular -belief, that, when a midwife is sent for, the Good People -throw every possible obstruction in her way, either by laming -the horse, if she rides, or by disqualifying the guide from -performing his duty as such. Phil, however, felt ashamed to -avow his fears on these points, but still could not help unconsciously -turning the conversation to the very topic he -ought to have avoided.</p> - -<p>“What war you looking at, avick?”</p> - -<p>“Why, bedad, there appeared something there beyant, -like a man, only it was darker. But be this and be that—hem, -ehem!—if I could get my hands on him, whatsomever -he”——</p> - -<p>“Hushth, boy, hould your tongue: you don’t know but -it’s the very word you war goin’ to say might do us harm.”</p> - -<p>“—Whatsomever he is, that I’d give him a lift on Hollowback -if he happened to be any poor fellow that stood in need of it. -Oh! the sorra word I was goin’ to say against any thing or -any body.”</p> - -<p>“You’re right, dear. If you knew as much as I could tell -you—push an—you’d have a dhrop o’ sweat at the ind of -every hair on your head.”</p> - -<p>“Be my song, I’m tould you know a power o’ quare things, -Mrs Moan; an’ if all that’s said is thrue, you sartinly do.”</p> - -<p>Now, had Mrs Moan and her heroic guide passed through -the village of Ballycomaisy, the latter would not have felt -his fears so strong upon him. The road, however, along -which they were now going was a grass-grown <i lang="ga">bohreen</i>, that -led them from behind her cabin through a waste and lonely -part of the country; and as it was a saving of better than -two miles in point of distance, Mrs Moan would not hear of -their proceeding by any other direction. The tenor of her -conversation, however, was fast bringing Phil to the state -she so graphically and pithily described.</p> - -<p>“What’s your name?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Phil Hannigan, a son of fat Phil’s of Balnasaggart, an’ -a cousin to Paddy who lost a finger in the Gansy (Guernsey) -wars.”</p> - -<p>“I know. Well, Phil, in throth the hairs ’ud stand like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> -stalks o’ barley upon your head, if you heard all I could -mintion.”</p> - -<p>Phil instinctively put his hand up and pressed down his hat, -as if it had been disposed to fly from off his head.</p> - -<p>“Hem! ahem! Why, I’m tould it’s wonderful. But is it -thrue, Mrs Moan, that you have been brought <em>on business</em> to -some o’ the”—here Phil looked about him cautiously, and -lowered his voice to a whisper—“to some o’ the fairy women?”</p> - -<p>“Husth, man alive—what the sorra timpted you to call -them anything but the Good People? This day’s Thursday—God -stand betune us an’ harm. No, Phil, I name nobody. -But there was a woman, a midwife—mind, avick, that I don’t -say <em>who</em> she was—may be I know why too, an’ may be it would -be as much as my life is worth”——</p> - -<p>“Aisey, Mrs. Moan! God presarve us! what is that tall -thing there to the right!”—and he commenced the Lord’s -Prayer in Irish as fast as he could get out the words.</p> - -<p>“Why, don’t you see, boy, its a fir-tree, but sorra movin’ -it’s movin.”</p> - -<p>“Ay, faix, an’ so it is; bedad I thought it was gettin’ taller -an’ taller. Ay!—hut! it <em>is</em> only a tree.”</p> - -<p>“Well, dear, there was a woman, an’ she was called away -one night by a little gentleman dressed in green. I’ll tell you -the story some time—only this, that havin’ done her <em>duty</em>, an’ -tuck no payment, she was called out the same night to a neighbour’s -wife, an’ a purtier boy you couldn’t see than she left -behind her. But it seems she happened to touch one of his -eyes wid a hand that had a taste of <em>their</em> panado an it; an’ -as the child grew up, every one wondhered to hear him speak -of the multitudes o’ thim that he seen in all directions. Well, -my dear, he kept never sayin’ anything to them until one day -when he was in the fair of Ballycomaisy, that he saw them -whippin’ away meal and cotton and butther, an’ everything that -they thought serviceable to them; so you see he could hould in -no longer, an’ says he to a little fellow that was very active -an’ thievish among them, ‘Why duv you take what doesn’t -belong to you?’ says he. The little fellow looked up at him”—“God -be about us, Rose, what is that white thing goin’ along -the ditch to the left of us?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a sheep, don’t you see? Faix, I believe you’re cowardly -at night.”</p> - -<p>“Ay, faix, an’ so it is, but it looked very quare somehow.”</p> - -<p>“—An’ says he, ‘How do you know that?’ ‘Bekase I see -you all,’ says the other. ‘An’ which eye do you see us all -wid?’ says he again. ‘Why, wid the left,’ says the boy. -Wid that he gave a short whiff of a blast up into the eye, an’ -from that day not a stime the poor boy was never able to see -wid it. No, Phil, I didn’t say it was <em>myself</em>—I named <em>nobody</em>.”</p> - -<p>“An’, Mrs Moan, is it thrue that you can put the dughaughs -upon them that trate their wives badly?”</p> - -<p>“Whisht, Phil. When you marry, keep your timper—that’s -all.—You knew long Ned Donnelly?”</p> - -<p>“Ay, bedad, sure enough; there was quare things said -about”——“Push an, avick, push an; for who knows how -some of us is wanted? You have a good masther, I believe, -Phil? It’s poison the same Ned would give me if he could. -Push an, dear.”</p> - -<p>Phil felt that he had got his answer. The abrupt mystery -of her manner and her curt allusions left him little indeed to -guess at. In this way did the conversation continue, Phil feloniously -filching, as he thought, from her own lips, a corroboration -of the various knowledge and extraordinary powers -which she was believed to possess, and she ingeniously feeding -his credulity, merely by enigmatical hints and masked -allusions; for although she took care to affirm nothing directly -or personally of herself, yet did she contrive to answer -him in such a manner as to confirm every report that had gone -abroad of the strange purposes she could effect.</p> - -<p>“Phil, wasn’t there an uncle o’ yours up in the Mountain -Bar that didn’t live happily for some time wid his wife?”</p> - -<p>“I believe so, Rose; but it was before my time, or any -way when I was only a young shaver.”</p> - -<p>“An’ did you ever hear how the reconcilement came betune -them?”</p> - -<p>“No, bedad,” replied Phil, “I never did; an’ that’s no -wondher, for it was a thing they never liked to spake of.”</p> - -<p>“Throth, it’s thrue for you, boy. Well, I brought about——Push -an, dear, push an.—They’re as happy a couple now -as breaks bread, any way, and that’s all they wanted.</p> - -<p>“I’d wager a thirteen it was you did that, Rose.”</p> - -<p>“Hut, gorsoon, hould your tongue. Sure they’re happy -now, I say, whosomever did it. I named nobody, nor I take -no pride to myself, Phil, out o’ sich things. Some people’s -gifted above others, an’ that’s all. But, Phil?”</p> - -<p>“Well, ma’am?”</p> - -<p>“How does the Dandy an’ his scald of a wife agree? for, -throth, I’m tould she’s nothing else.”</p> - -<p>“Faix, but middlin’ itself. As I tould you, she often has -us as empty as a paper lanthern, wid divil a thing but the light -of a good conscience inside of us. If we <em>pray</em> ourselves, begorra -she’ll take care we’ll have the <em>fastin’</em> at first cost; so -that you see, ma’am, we hould a devout situation undher her.”</p> - -<p>“An’ so that’s the way wid you?”</p> - -<p>“Ay, the downright thruth, an’ no mistake. Why, the -stirabout she makes would run nine miles along a deal boord, -an’ scald a man at the far end of it.”</p> - -<p>“Throth, Phil, I never like to go next or near sich women -or sich places, but for the sake o’ the innocent we must forget -the guilty. So push an, avick, push an. Who knows but -it’s life an’ death wid us? Have you ne’er a spur on?”</p> - -<p>“The divil a spur I tuck time to wait for.”</p> - -<p>“Well, afther all, it’s not right to let a messager come for -a woman like me, widout what is called the Midwife’s Spur—a -spur in the head—for it has long been said that one in the -head is worth two in the heel, an’ so indeed it is,—on business -like this, any way.”</p> - -<p>“Mrs Moan, do you know the Moriartys of Ballaghmore, -ma’am?”</p> - -<p>“Which o’ them, honey?”</p> - -<p>“Mick o’ the Esker Beg.”</p> - -<p>“To be sure I do. A well-favoured dacent family they are, -an’ full o’ the world too, the Lord spare it to them.”</p> - -<p>“Bedad, they are, ma’am, a well-favoured<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> family. Well, -ma’am, isn’t it odd, but somehow there’s neither man, woman, -nor child in the parish but gives you the good word above all -the women in it; but as for a midwife, why, I heard my -aunt say that if ever mother an’ child owended their lives to -another, she did her and the babby’s to you.”</p> - -<p>The reader may here perceive that Phil’s flattery must have -had some peculiar design in it, in connection with the Moriartys, -and such indeed was the fact. But we had better allow -him to explain matters himself.</p> - -<p>“Well, honey, sure that was but my duty; but God be -praised for all, for every thing depinds on the Man above. -She should call in one o’ those newfangled women who take -out their Dispatches from the Lying-in College in Dublin below; -for you see, Phil, there is sich a place there—an’ it -stands to raison that there should be a Fondlin’ Hospital beside -it, which there is too, they say; but, honey, what are -these poor ignorant cratures but <em>new lights</em>, every one o’ them, -that a dacent woman’s life isn’t safe wid?”</p> - -<p>“To be sure, Mrs Moan; an’ everyone knows they’re not -to be put in comparishment wid a woman like you, that knows -sich a power. But how does it happen, ma’am, that the -Moriartys does be spakin’ but middlin’ of you?”</p> - -<p>“Of me, avick?”</p> - -<p>“Ay, faix; I’m tould they spread the mouth at you sometimes, -espishily when the people does be talkin’ about all the -quare things you can do.”</p> - -<p>“Well, well, dear, let them have their laugh—they may -laugh that win, you know. Still one doesn’t like to be provoked—no -indeed.”</p> - -<p>“Faix, an’ Mick Moriarty has a purty daughther, Mrs -Moan, an’ a purty penny he can give her, by all accounts. -The nerra one o’ myself but would be glad to put my comedher -on her, if I knew how. I hope you find yourself aisey on your -sate, ma’am?”</p> - -<p>“I do, honey. Let them talk, Phil, let them talk; it may -come their turn yet—only I didn’t expect it from <em>them</em>. You! -but, avick, what chance would <em>you</em> have with Mick Moriarty’s -daughther?”</p> - -<p>“Ay, every chance an’ sartinty too, if some one that I -know, and that every one that knows her, respects, would -only give me a lift. There’s no use in comin’ about the bush, -Mrs Moan—bedad it’s yourself I mane. You could do it. -An’, whisper, betune you and me it would be only sarvin’ -them right, in regard of the way they spake of you—sayin’, -indeed, an’ galivantin’ to the world that you know no more -than another woman, an’ that ould Pol Doolin of Ballymagowan -knows oceans more than you do.”</p> - -<p>This was perhaps as artful a plot as could be laid for engaging -the assistance of Mrs Moan in Phil’s design upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> -Moriarty’s daughter. He knew perfectly well that she would -not, unless strongly influenced, lend herself to any thing of -the kind between two persons whose circumstances in life differed -so widely as those of a respectable farmer’s daughter -with a good portion, and a penniless labouring boy. With -great adroitness, therefore, he contrived to excite her prejudices -against them by the most successful arguments he could -possibly use, namely, a contempt for her imputed knowledge, -and praise of her rival. Still she was in the habit of acting -coolly, and less from impulse than from a shrewd knowledge -of the best way to sustain her own reputation, without undertaking -too much.</p> - -<p>“Well, honey, an’ so you wish me to assist you? Maybe -I could do it, and maybe—But push an, dear, move him an; -we’ll think of it, an’ spake more about it some other time. -I must think of what’s afore me now—so move, move, acushla; -push an.”</p> - -<p>Much conversation of the same nature took place between -them, in which each bore a somewhat characteristic part; for -to say truth, Phil was as knowing a “boy” as you might wish -to become acquainted with. In Rose, however, he had a -woman of no ordinary shrewdness to encounter; and the consequence -was, that each after a little more chat began to understand -the other a little too well to render the topic of the -Moriartys, to which Phil again reverted, so interesting as it -had been. Rose soon saw that Phil was only a <i lang="ga">plasthey</i>, or -sweetener, and only “soothered” her for his own purposes; -and Phil perceived that Rose understood his tactics too well -to render any further tampering with her vanity either safe or -successful.</p> - -<p>At length they arrived at Dandy Keho’s house, and in a -moment the Dandy himself took her in his arms, and, placing -her gently on the ground, shook hands with and cordially -welcomed her. It is very singular, but no less true, that the -moment a midwife enters the house of her patient, she always -uses the plural number, whether speaking in her own person -or in that of the former.</p> - -<p>“You’re welcome, Rose, an’ I’m proud an’ happy to see -you here, an’ it’ll make poor Bridget strong, an’ give her -courage, to know you’re near her.”</p> - -<p>“How are we, Dandy? how are we, avick?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, bedad, middlin’, wishin’ very much for you of coorse, -as I hear”——</p> - -<p>“Well, honey, go away now. I have some words to say -afore I go in, that’ll sarve us, maybe—a charm it is that has -great vartue in it.”</p> - -<p>The Dandy then withdrew to the barn, where the male portion -of the family were staying until the <i lang="la">ultimatum</i> should be -known. A good bottle of potteen, however, was circulating -among them, for every one knows that occasions of this nature -usually generate a festive and hospitable spirit.</p> - -<p>Rose now went round the house in the direction from east -to west, stopping for a short time at each of the windows, -which she marked with the sign of the cross five times; that -is to say, once at each corner and once in the middle. At -each corner also of the house she signed the cross, and repeated -the following words or charm:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent1">The four Evangels and the four Divines,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">God bless the moon an us when it shines.</div> -<div class="verse indent1">New moon,<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> true moon, God bless me,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">God bless this house an’ this family.</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Matthew, Mark, Luke, an’ John,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">God bless the bed that she lies on.</div> -<div class="verse indent1">God bless the manger where Christ was born,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">An’ lave Joy an’ comfort here in the morn.</div> -<div class="verse indent1">St Bridget an’ St Patrick, an’ the holy spouse,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Keep the fairies for ever far from this house. Amen.</div> -<div class="verse">Glora yea, Glora yea, Glora yea yeelish,</div> -<div class="verse">Glora n’ahir, Glora n’vac, Glora n’spirid neev. Amen.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>These are the veritable words of the charm, which she uttered -in the manner and with the forms aforesaid. Having -concluded them, she then entered into the house, where we -leave her for a time with our best wishes.</p> - -<p>In the barn the company were very merry, Dandy himself -being as pleasant as any of them, unless when his brow became -shaded by the very natural anxiety for the welfare of -his wife and child, which from time to time returned upon him. -Stories were told, songs sung, and jokes passed, all full of -good nature and not a little fun, some of it at the expense of -the Dandy himself, who laughed at and took it all in good part. -An occasional <i lang="fr">bulletin</i> came out through a servant maid, that -matters were just the same way; a piece of intelligence which -damped Keho’s mirth considerably. At length he himself was -sent for by the Midwife, who wished to speak with him at -the door.</p> - -<p>“I hope there’s nothing like danger, Rose?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all, honey; but the truth is, we want a seventh -son who isn’t left-handed.”</p> - -<p>“A seventh son! Why, what do you want him for?”</p> - -<p>“Why, dear, just to give her three shakes in his arms;—it -never fails.”</p> - -<p>“Bedad, an’ that’s fortunate; for there’s Mickey M’Sorley -of the Broad Bog’s a seventh son, an’ he’s not two gunshots -from this.”</p> - -<p>“Well, aroon, hurry off one or two o’ the boys for him, and -tell Phil, if he makes haste, that I’ll have a word to say to -him afore I go.” This intimation to Phil put feathers to his -heels; for from the moment that he and Barny started, he -did not once cease to go at the top of his speed. It followed -as a matter of course that honest Mickey M’Sorley dressed -himself and was back at Keho’s house before the family -believed it possible the parties could have been there. This -ceremony of getting a seventh son to shake the sick woman, -in cases where difficulty or danger may be apprehended, is one -which frequently occurs in remote parts of the country. To -be sure, it is only a form, the man merely taking her in his -arms, and moving her gently three times. The writer of -this, when young, saw it performed with his own eyes, as the -saying is; but in his case the man was not a seventh son, for -no such person could be procured. When this difficulty arises, -any man who has the character of being lucky, provided he -is not married to a red-haired wife, may be called in to give -the three shakes. In other and more dangerous cases Rose -would send out persons to gather half a dozen heads of blasted -barley; and having stripped them of the black fine powder -with which they were covered, she would administer it in -a little new milk, and this was always attended by the best -effects. It is somewhat surprising that the whole Faculty -should have adopted this singular medicine in cases of similar -difficulty, for in truth it is that which is now administered -under the more scientific name of <em>Ergot of rye</em>.</p> - -<p>In the case before us, the seventh son sustained his reputation -for good luck. In about three quarters of an hour -Dandy was called in “to kiss a strange young gintleman that -wanted to see him.” This was an agreeable ceremony to -Dandy, as it always is, to catch the first glimpse of one’s own -first-born. On entering he found Rose sitting beside the bed -in all the pomp of authority and pride of success, bearing the -infant in her arms, and dandling it up and down, more from -habit than any necessity that then existed for doing so.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said she, “here we are all safe and sound, God -willin’; an’ if you’re not the father of as purty a young man -as ever I laid eyes on, I’m not here. Corny Keho, come an’ -kiss your son, I say.”</p> - -<p>Corny advanced, somewhat puzzled whether to laugh or -cry, and taking the child up with a smile, he kissed it five -times—for that is the mystic number—and as he placed it -once more in Rose’s arms, there was a solitary tear on its -cheek.</p> - -<p>“Arra, go an’ kiss your wife, man alive, an’ tell her to -have a good heart, an’ to be as kind to all her fellow-creatures -as God has been to her this night. It isn’t upon this world -the heart ought to be fixed, for we see how small a thing an’ -how short a time can take us out of it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, bedad,” said Dandy, who had now recovered the -touch of feeling excited by the child, “it would be too bad if -I’d grudge her a smack.” He accordingly stooped, and -kissed her; but, truth to confess, he did it with a very cool -and business-like air. “I know,” he proceeded, “that she’ll -have a heart like a jyant, now that the son is come.”</p> - -<p>“To be sure she will, an’ she must; or if not, <em>I’ll</em> play the -sorra, an’ break things. Well, well, let her get strength a -bit first, an’ rest and quiet; an’ in the mean time get the -groanin’-malt ready, until every one in the house drinks the -health of the stranger. My sowl to happiness, but he’s a born -beauty. The nerra Keho of you all ever was the aiquails of -what he’ll be yet, plaise God. Troth, Corny, he has daddy’s -nose upon him, any how. Ay, you may laugh; but, faix, it’s -thrue. You may take with him, you may own to him, any -where. Arra, look at that! My soul to happiness, if one -egg’s liker another! Eh, my posey! Where was it, alanna? -Ay, you’re there, my duck o’ diamonds! Troth, you’ll be the -flower o’ the flock, so you will. An’ now, Mrs Keho, honey, -we’ll lave you to yourself awhile, till we thrate these poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> -cratures of sarvints; the likes o’ them oughtn’t to be overlooked; -an’ indeed they did feel a great dale itself, poor things, -about you; an’ moreover they’ll be longin’ of coorse to see the -darlin’ here.”</p> - -<p>Mrs Keho’s mother and Rose superintended the birth-treat -between them. It is unnecessary to say that the young men -and girls had their own sly fun upon the occasion; and now -that Dandy’s apprehension of danger was over, he joined in -their mirth with as much glee as any of them. This being -over, they all retired to rest; and honest Mickey M’Sorley -went home very <em>hearty</em>,<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> in consequence of Dandy’s grateful -sense of the aid he had rendered his wife. The next morning -Rose, after dressing the infant and performing all the usual -duties that one expected from her, took her leave in these -words:—</p> - -<p>“Now, Mrs Keho, God bless you an’ yours, and take care -of yourself. I’ll see you agin on Sunday next, when it’s to be -christened. Until then, throw out no dirty wather before sunrise -or afther sunset; an’ when Father Molloy is goin’ to -christen it, let Corny tell him not to forget to christen it -<em>against the fairies</em>, an’ thin it’ll be safe. Good bye, ma’am; -an’ look you to her, Mrs Finnegan,” said she, addressing her -patient’s mother, “an’ <i lang="ga">banaght lath</i> till I see all again.”</p> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> This term in Ireland means “handsome”—“good-looking.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> If it did not happen to be new moon, the words were “good moon,” &c.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Tipsy.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<h2 class="gap4">THE MINSTREL’S WALK.<br /> -<span class="smaller">BY J. U. U.</span></h2> - -<p class="center">(To the old Irish air of “Bidh mid a gol sa poga na mban.”)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Green hills of the west, where I carolled along</div> -<div class="verse">In the Mayday of life with my harp and my song,</div> -<div class="verse">Though the winter of time o’er my spirit hath rolled,</div> -<div class="verse">And the breast of the minstrel is weary and cold;</div> -<div class="verse">Though no more by those famous old haunts shall I stray,</div> -<div class="verse">Once the themes of my song, and the guides of my way,</div> -<div class="verse">That each had its story, and true-hearted friend,</div> -<div class="verse">Before I forget ye, life’s journey shall end!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh, ’twas joy in the prime of life’s morning to go</div> -<div class="verse">On the tracks of Clan Connell, led on by Hugh Roe,</div> -<div class="verse">O’er the hill of Keiscorran, renowned Ballimote,</div> -<div class="verse">By the Boyle, or by Newport, all passes of note,</div> -<div class="verse">Where the foe their vain armaments haughtily kept;</div> -<div class="verse">But the foot of th’ avenger went by while they slept:</div> -<div class="verse">The hills told no tale, but the night-cloud was red,</div> -<div class="verse">And the friends of the Sassenagh quaked at their tread.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">By the plains of Rath Croghan, fields famous of yore,</div> -<div class="verse">Though stronghold and seat of the kingly no more,</div> -<div class="verse">By Tulsk and Tomona, hill, valley, and plain,</div> -<div class="verse">To grey Ballintubber, O’Connors’ domain;</div> -<div class="verse">While ages rolled backwards in lengthened array,</div> -<div class="verse">In song and old story, the long summer day;</div> -<div class="verse">And cloud-like the glories of Connaught rolled by,</div> -<div class="verse">Till they sank in the horrors of grim Athenry!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Through the heaths of Kiltullagh, kind, simple, though rude,</div> -<div class="verse">To Aeluin’s bright waters, where Willesborough stood,</div> -<div class="verse">Ballinlough then spoke welcome from many a door,</div> -<div class="verse">Where smiles lit kind faces that now smile no more;</div> -<div class="verse">Then away to the Moyne, o’er the moors of Mayo,</div> -<div class="verse">Still onward, still welcomed by high and by low,</div> -<div class="verse">Blake, Burke, and O’Malley, Lynch, Kirwan, and Browne,</div> -<div class="verse">By forest, lake, mountain, through village and town.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then kind were the voices that greeted my way,</div> -<div class="verse">’Twas <i lang="ga">Cead mille failte</i> at closing of day,</div> -<div class="verse">When young hearts beat lightly, and labour was done,</div> -<div class="verse">For joy tracked my steps, as light follows the sun;</div> -<div class="verse">I had tales for the hamlet, and news for the hall,</div> -<div class="verse">And the tune of old times, ever welcome to all,</div> -<div class="verse">The praise of thy glory, dear land of the west;</div> -<div class="verse">But thy praises are still, and thy kind bosoms rest!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">My blessing rest with you, dear friends, though no more</div> -<div class="verse">Shall the poor and the weary rejoice at your door;</div> -<div class="verse">Though like stars to your homes I have seen you depart,</div> -<div class="verse">Still ye live, O ye live in each vein of my heart.</div> -<div class="verse">Still the light of your looks on my darkness is thrown,</div> -<div class="verse">Still your voices breathe round me when weary and lone;</div> -<div class="verse">Like shades ye come back with each feeling old strain,</div> -<div class="verse">But the world shall ne’er look on your equals again.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="gap4">The difference between a rich man and a poor man is this—the -former eats when he pleases, the latter when he can get -it.—<cite>Sir W. Raleigh.</cite></p> - -<h2 class="gap4">APOLOGUES AND FABLES FROM FOREIGN LANGUAGES.</h2> - -<p class="center">(<i>Translated for the Irish Penny Journal.</i>)</p> - -<h3>No. VI.—THE REMORSE OF A NIGHT.</h3> - -<p>The last night of the year was about to expire; the winds, -after a day of storminess, had subsided into slumber; the -white earth lay outspread, like a shrouded map, under the -moon; and innumerable stars arose out from the remotest -abysses of heaven, twinkling as brightly as though they had -but then begun their existence, and were never to suffer impairment. -Eleven o’clock had tolled from the tower of an -ancient Gothic church; and as the vibrations died away on -the transparent air, an Old Man drew nigh to the window of -a dark room in the desolate dwelling of which he had long -been the solitary tenant, and cast his dull despairful eyes upwards -towards the immoveable firmament, and from thence -down on the blank waste of the earth, and then breathed a -groaning prayer, that those eyes might never survey that firmament -or that earth again. Wretched was he, in truth, -that Old Man, beyond all parallel and beyond all consolation—for -his grave lay open for him, as it seemed, by his side; it -was thinly covered over, not by the flowers of Youth, but by -the snows of Age; and when, heartsick of the sight, he looked -away from it into himself, he saw that the sole fruits that he -had gathered from a long and eventful life were sins, regrets, -and maladies—a decayed body, a plague-smitten soul, a bosom -full of bitterness, and an old age full of remorse. The -beautiful days of his youth now came again before him like -ghosts, and resummoned to his remembrance the cheerful -morning upon which his venerable father had first placed -him upon the great Cross-road of Life—a road which, trodden -on the right hand, conducts the pilgrim along the noonday -path of Virtue into a spacious, joyous land, abounding -in sunbeams, harvests, and angelic spirits, but which, followed -on the left, betrays him through lampless and miry ways, into -the rueful wildernesses of Vice, where serpents for ever swarm, -and pestilence chokes the atmosphere, and to quench his burning -thirst the sluggish black rivers yield him but slime and -poison.</p> - -<p>Alas! the serpents were now coiled about him—the poison -was rilling through his heart! Alas for him! he knew too -well which road he had chosen—where he was—and what he -must undergo—for eternity—for eternity!</p> - -<p>With an anguish, with an agony, with a despair, that language -cannot even faintly pourtray, he uplifted his withered -arms towards heaven, clasped his hands, and cried aloud, -O! give me back, give me back my youth! O! my father, -lead me once more to the Cross-road, that I may once more -choose, and this time choose with foreknowledge!</p> - -<p>But his cries wasted themselves idly upon the frozen air, -for his father was no more, and his youth was no more—both -had alike long, long ago evanished, never to reappear. He -knew this, and he wept—yes, that miserable old man wept; -but his tears relieved him not; they were like drops of hot -lava, for they trickled from a burning brain.</p> - -<p>He looked forth, and he saw flitting lights—wills-o’-the-wisp—dancing -over the morasses and becoming extinguished -in the burial-grounds; and he said, Such were my riotous -days of folly! He again looked forth, and he beheld a star -fall from heaven to earth, and there melt away in blackness -that left no trace behind, and he said, I am that star!—and -with that woeful thought were torn open anew the leprous -wounds in his bosom which the serpents that clung around -him would never suffer to be healed.</p> - -<p>His morbid imagination, wandering abroad till it touched -on the confines of frenzy, showed him figures of sleep-walkers -traversing like shadows the roofs of the houses:—the chimneys -widened into furnaces vomiting forth flames and monsters—the -windmills lifted up their giant arms, and threatened to -crush him—and a forgotten spectre, left behind in a deserted -charnel-house, glared on him with a horrible expression of -malignity, and then mocked his terror by assuming his -features.</p> - -<p>On a sudden there flowed out upon the air a deep, rich, and -solemn stream of music. It came from the steeple of the old -Gothic church, as the bells announced the birth of the new -year, for it was now the twelfth hour. Its cadences fell with -a thrilling distinctness upon the ear and the heart of the Old -Man; and every tone in the melody, through the agency of -that mysterious power which sound possesses of re-assembling -within the forsaken halls of the soul images long departed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> -brought before his mind some past scene of his life, vivid as a -panoramic picture. Again he looked round upon the lucid -horizon and over the frosted earth; and he thought on the -opportunities he had forfeited—the warnings he had slighted—the -examples he had scoffed at. He thought upon the friends -of his youth, and how they, better and more fortunate than -he, were now good men, at peace with themselves—teachers -of wisdom to others, fathers of blessed families, torchlights -for the world—and he exclaimed, Oh! and I also, had I but -willed it, I also might, like them, have seen with tearless -eyes, with tranquil heart, this night depart into eternity! -Oh, my dear father—my dear, dear mother! I, even I, might -have been now happy, had I but hearkened to your affectionate -admonitions—had I but chosen to profit by the blessings which -on every returning New Year’s Morn like this your tenderness -led you to invoke on my head!</p> - -<p>Amid these feverish reminiscences of his youth, it appeared -to him as though the spectre which had assumed his features -in the charnel-house gradually approached nearer and nearer -to him—losing, however, as it advanced, one trait after another -of its spectral character—till at length, as if under the -dominion of that supernatural influence which on the last -night of the old year is popularly said to compel even the -Dead to undergo a change of form, it took the appearance of -a living young man—the same young man that he had himself -been fifty years before.</p> - -<p>He was unable to gaze any longer: he covered his face -with his hands; and, as the blistering tears gushed from his -eyes, he sank down, powerless and trembling, on his knees—and -again he cried out, as if his heart would break, O! come -back to me, lost days of my youth!—come back, come back -to me once more!</p> - -<p>And the supplication of the Penitent was not made in vain, -for they came back to him, those days of his youth, but not -yet lost! He started from his bed—the blue moonbeams -were shining in through the windows—the midnight chimes -were announcing the beginning of a new year. Yes!—all had -been but an appalling dream—all, except his sins and transgressions: -these, alas! were but too real, for conscience, -even in sleep, is a faithful monitor. But he was still young—he -had not grown old in iniquity—and with tears of repentance -he thanked God for having, even by means of so terrific -a vision, awakened in his heart a feeling of horror for the -criminal career he had been pursuing, and for having revealed -to him in that glimpse of a land full of sunbeams, harvests, -and angelic spirits, the blissful goal in which, if he pleased, -the path of his existence might yet terminate.</p> - -<p>Youthful reader! on which of these two paths art thou? -On the right-hand path? Go forward, then, with the blessing -of thy Maker, and fear nothing! On the left-hand path? -If so, pause: be forewarned—turn while yet thou mayest—retrace -thy steps—make a happier choice! I will pray that -the terrors of this ghastly Dream may not hereafter be arrayed -in judgment against thee! Alas for thee, if the time ever -come when thou shalt call aloud in thy despair, Come back, -ye precious days of my youth!—unlike the dreamer, <em>thou</em> wilt -but be mocked by the barren echo of thine own lamentation—the -precious days of thy youth will never, never come back to -thee!</p> - -<p class="right">M.</p> - -<h2 class="gap4">TEETOTALLERS AND TOPERS.</h2> - -<p>It is not a little curious, and perhaps not a little amusing in -its way, to mark the feelings with which these two very different -classes contemplate each other. The introduction of -teetotallism was a thing for which the toper was wholly -unprepared. It was a thing of which, <i lang="la">a priori</i>, he could have -formed no conception—a thing of which he never dreamt. -It therefore took him quite by surprise; and when it came, -his opinion of it was, and to this good hour is, that it is one -of the most absurd and monstrous ideas that ever entered -into the human head.</p> - -<p>That a class of men should arise who would forswear the -use of those exhilarating stimulants in which he himself so -much delighted—that there should ever appear on the face -of the earth such an ass as the man who would refuse a glass -of generous liquor when offered him, is to him a thing surpassing -belief; and in fact he does not, or rather will not, -believe in it. He insists upon it that it is all humbug, -and that its professors, the professors of teetotallism, may -say what they please, but that they can and do take their -drink as freely as he does; the only real difference being, that -they take theirs secretly. No evidence whatever will convince -him that it is otherwise, or at least will induce him to admit -that it is so. He is, in short, determined not to believe in so -monstrous a doctrine. But should conviction at any time be -too strong for him, he then falls back on the consolatory belief -that it cannot long prevail—that it will not, can not -stand. An association whose rules should enjoin every member -always to walk backwards instead of forwards, or which -should enjoin any other equally ridiculous absurdity, might -live and prosper; but teetotallism, the abstaining from the -dear potations—no, no, <em>that</em> cannot stand any time—ridiculous, -impossible—not in the nature of things.</p> - -<p>As might be expected, the toper entertains a most cordial -hatred of the teetotaller; he abhors him, and detests his -principles—he in fact cannot hear him spoken of with any degree -of patience. Oh, what a triumph to him when he catches -a teetotaller tripping! With what delight he treasures up -anecdotes of backsliding on the part of the professors of abstinence! -And of such anecdotes he has a large store; for -he is constantly on the look-out for them, and is not very particular -on the score of authenticity. With what glee he relates -these anecdotes to his club! and with what glee his club -listens to the edifying and refreshing relation! They will -chuckle over a story of this kind for a month. Nor, in the -matter of anecdote, is the teetotaller a whit behind his unregenerated -brother. The two parties, in fact, carry on a war -of anecdote against each other—the teetotaller’s being stories of -ruin and misery resulting from dissipation—the toper’s, facetious -little tales of hypocrisy and backsliding. Both collect -their anecdotes with great industry, and propagate them with -great zeal and diligence.</p> - -<p>The toper’s attitude, as regards the teetotaller, is of course -a hostile one. But it is not a bold one. There is nothing of -defiance in it, although he sometimes affects it. For although -he hates the teetotaller, he also stands in awe of him; being -oppressed with an awkward consciousness that the latter has -the right side of the argument, and the weight of general -opinion is on his side—that, in short, the teetotaller is right -and he is wrong.</p> - -<p>This consciousness gives to his hostility a sneaking and -timid character, and induces him to confine himself in the -matter of retaliation to the facetious joke and sly insinuation. -On more open warfare he dare not venture. The teetotaller -is thus the assailing party: he takes and keeps the field -manfully, and with bold front and loud voice dares the toper -to the combat. The latter, in conscious weakness, shrinks -at the sound, as do the small animals of the forest when they -hear the roar of the lion; and getting out of his way as fast -as he can, retires to his fastnesses, the drinking-shops, and -hedges himself round with bottles and quart-pots.</p> - -<p>The toper always carefully eschews any thing like direct -and open personal contact with the enemy, in the shape of -discussions on the merits of the question of abstinence. -There is, in fact, nothing he so much abominates as any attempt -at reasoning on the subject, where such reasoning has for -its object to show the advantages of temperance or intemperance. -The toper thus at all times prefers keeping out of the -teetotaller’s way, and, although professing the most entire -disregard of him, will at any time go a mile about to avoid -him. He has an instinctive dislike of him, and this because -he is a living personified reflection on himself.</p> - -<p>Turning now to the teetotaller, we find two or three -things in his conduct, too, with reference to the toper, that -are rather curious in their way. In the first place, it is curious -to mark the deep interest he takes in what may be called the -tippling statistics of his neighbourhood; and the amount of -knowledge which he contrives to acquire on this subject is -really amazing. He knows all the topers in his vicinity, and -keeps a sharp eye on their proceedings. He knows every one -of their haunts too—knows the different degrees of dissipation -to which each has attained, and could almost tell on any -given day what quantity each drank on the preceding night. -In short, so vigilantly does he watch all the outgoings and -incomings of these marked men, and yet without seeming to -notice them, that they can hardly swallow a single <em>cropper</em> -without his knowing it. The whole thing, in fact, is a sort -of private study of his own, and one to which he devotes a -great deal of quiet observation and secret reflection: he takes -a deep interest in it, and hence the proficiency he makes out -in the knowledge of its details.</p> - -<p>But our teetotaller not only knows all the professed, undisguised -topers of his locality; he knows—much more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> -striking proof of his vigilance—every man also whose habits, -although not yet sufficiently intemperate to attract the attention -of any one but a teetotaller, exhibit signs and -symptoms of becoming gradually worse. The tippling progress -of these persons he watches with the deepest interest, -and keeps himself accurately informed regarding the extent -and frequency of their debauches. The teetotaller, in short, -keeps a vigilant eye over the entire drinking system of his -neighbourhood, and professes an astonishing knowledge of -what every one is doing in this way. If the teetotaller’s -residence be in a small town, his surveillance then embraces -its whole extent, and hardly can a single bumper be swallowed -within its limits, of which he does not, somehow or other, -obtain notice.</p> - -<p>Abhorring dissipation itself, the teetotaller naturally extends -that abhorrence to its signs and symptoms. On flushed -and pimpled faces he looks with aversion and distrust, but on -a red nose with absolute horror. We once saw a curious instance -of this:—A gentleman with a highly illumed proboscis -one evening entered a teetotal coffee-room in which we -happened to be seated. The nose—for we sink the gentleman, -its owner, altogether, as an unnecessary incumbrance—passed, -although with deliberate movement, like a fiery meteor, -up the entire length of the room, exciting in its progress the -utmost horror and dismay amongst the teetotallers with whom -the apartment was thronged. The sensation, in fact, created -by the red nose was immense, although not noisy in its expression.</p> - -<p>It was indicated merely by an extensive and earnest whispering, -by a shuffling of feet, and a general fidgetty sort of -movement, giving, though in an unobtrusive form, a very vivid -idea of the presence of some exceedingly disagreeable object. -The whole room, in short, was shocked by the red nose, -although they refrained from expressing that feeling by any -more marked demonstration than those we have mentioned. -The red nose seemed for some time unconscious of the effects -it was producing, but the detection of a number of horror-stricken -faces peering eagerly over the edges and round the -corners of boxes, to get a glimpse of the detestable object, -betrayed the real state of the case. The red nose, however, -evinced no emotion on making the discovery, but passed quietly -into an unoccupied box, took up a paper, and ordered a -glass of lemonade. The landlord looked queer at the nose -as he tabled the order, but of course said nothing.</p> - -<p>Now, we thought at the time, how different would have been -the reception of the gentleman with the red nose by a club of -topers! In such case, his nose, in place of being looked on -with horror, would have been viewed with respect. It would -have been a passport to the highest favour of the jolly fraternity, -and would have at once admitted its owner to their confidence -and good-fellowship. We do not know, indeed, that -its entrance would not have been hailed by a shout of acclamation; -for, viewed as one of the chief insignia of a boon companion, -it was truly a splendid nose.</p> - -<p class="right">C.</p> - -<h2 class="gap4">MORAL EVIL MAN’S OWN CREATION.</h2> - -<p>Man brings upon himself a thousand calamities, as consequences -of his artifices and pride, and then, overlooking his -own follies, gravely investigates the origin of what he calls -evil:—</p> - -<p>He compromises every natural pleasure to acquire fame -among transient beings, who forget him nightly in sleep, and -eternally in death; and seeks to render his name celebrated -among posterity, though it has no identity with his person, -and though posterity and himself can have no contemporaneous -feeling.</p> - -<p>He deprives himself and all around him of every passing -enjoyment, to accumulate wealth that he may purchase other -men’s labour, in the vain hope of adding happiness to his own.</p> - -<p>He omits to make effective laws to protect the poor against -the oppressions of the rich, and then wears out his existence -under the fear of becoming poor, and being the victim of his -own neglect and injustice.</p> - -<p>He arms himself with murderous weapons; and on the -slightest instigation, and for hire, practises murder as a -science, follows this science as a regular profession, and -honours its chiefs above benefactors and philosophers, in proportion -to the quantity of blood they have shed, or the mischiefs -they have perpetrated.</p> - -<p>He disguises the most worthless of the people in showy -liveries, and then excites them to murder men whom they -never saw, by the fear of being killed if they do not kill.</p> - -<p>He revels in luxury and gluttony, and then complains of -the diseases which result from repletion.</p> - -<p>He tries in all things to counteract or improve the provisions -of nature, and then afflicts himself at his disappointments.</p> - -<p>He multiplies the chances against his own life and health by -his numerous artifices, and then wonders at their fatal results.</p> - -<p>He shuts his eyes against the volume of truth as presented -by Nature, and, vainly considering that all was made for -him, founds on this false assumption various doubts in regard -to the justice of eternal causation.</p> - -<p>He interdicts the enjoyment of all other creatures, and regarding -the world as his property, in mere wantonness destroys -myriads on whom have been bestowed beauties and perfections.</p> - -<p>He forgets that to live and let live is a maxim of universal -justice, extending not only to his fellow creatures, but to inferior -ones, to whom his moral obligations are greater, because -they are more in his power.</p> - -<p>He afflicts himself that he cannot live for ever, though his -forefathers have successively died to make room for him.</p> - -<p>He repines at the thought of losing that life, the use of which -he so often perverts: and though he began to exist but yesterday, -thinks the world was made for him, and that he ought -to continue to enjoy it for ever.</p> - -<p>He desires to govern others, but, regardless of their dependence -upon his benevolence, is commonly gratified in displaying -the power entrusted to him by a tyrannical abuse of it.</p> - -<p>He makes laws, which, in the hands of mercenary lawyers, -serve as snares to unwary poverty—but as shields to crafty -wealth.</p> - -<p>He acknowledges the importance of educating youth, yet -teaches them any thing but their social duties in the political -state in which they live.</p> - -<p>He passes his days in questioning the providence of Nature, -in ascribing evil to supernatural causes, in feverish expectation -of results contrary to the necessary harmony of the world.</p> - -<p class="gap4"><span class="smcap">The Labour of Study.</span>—It is impossible for any man -to be a determined student without endangering his health. -Man was made to be active. The hunter who roams through -the forest, or climbs the rocks of the Alps, is the man who is -hardy, and in the most robust health. The sailor who has -been rocked by a thousand storms, and who labours day and -night, is a hardy man, unless dissipation has broken his constitution. -Any man of active habits is likely to enjoy good -health, if he does not too frequently over-exert himself. But -the student’s habits are all unnatural, and by them nature is -continually cramped and restrained. Men err in nothing -more than in the estimate which they make of human labour. -The hero of the world is the man that makes a bustle—the -man that makes the road smoke under his chaise-and-four—the -man that raises a dust about him—the man that ravages -or devastates empires. But what is the real labour of this -man, compared with that of a silent sufferer? He lives on -his projects: he encounters, perhaps, rough roads, incommodious -inns, bad food, storms and perils; but what are -these? His project, his point, the thing that has laid hold on -his heart—glory—a name—consequence—pleasure—wealth—these -render the man callous to the pains and efforts of the -body. I have been in both states, and therefore understand -them; and I know that men form this false estimate. Besides, -there is something in bustle, and stir, and activity, that -supports itself. At one period I preached and read five times -on a Sunday, and rode sixteen miles. But what did it cost -me? Nothing! Yet most men would have looked on, while -I was rattling from village to village, with all the dogs barking -at my heels, and would have called me a hero; whereas, if -they were to look at me now, they would call me an idle, -lounging fellow. “He gets into his study (they would say)—he -walks from end to end—he scribbles on a scrap of paper—he -throws it away and scribbles on another—he sits down—scribbles -again—walks about!” They cannot see that here -is an exhaustion of the spirit which, at night, will leave me -worn to the extremity of endurance. They cannot see the -numberless efforts of mind which are crossed and stifled, and -recoil on the spirits like the fruitless efforts of a traveller to -get firm footing among the ashes on the steep sides of Mount -Etna.—<cite>Rev. John Todd—Student’s Guide.</cite></p> - -<p class="gap4"><span class="smcap">Necessity of a Steadfast Character.</span>—The man who -is perpetually hesitating which of two things he will do first,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> -will do neither. The man who resolves, but suffers his resolution -to be changed by the first counter-suggestion of a -friend—who fluctuates from opinion to opinion, from plan to -plan—and veers, like a weathercock, to every point of the -compass, with every breath of caprice that blows—can never -accomplish anything great or useful. Instead of being progressive -in anything, he will be at best stationary, and more -probably retrograde, in all. It is only the man who first -consults wisely, then resolves firmly, and then executes his -purpose with inflexible perseverance, undismayed by those -petty difficulties which daunt a weaker spirit—that can advance -to eminence in any line. Let us take, by way of illustration, -the case of a student. He commences the study of -the dead languages; but presently a friend comes, and tells -him that he is wasting his time, and that, instead of obsolete -words, he had much better employ himself in acquiring new -ideas. He changes his plan, and sets to work at the mathematics. -Then comes another friend, who asks him, with -a grave and sapient face, whether he intends to become a -professor in a college; because, if he does not, he is misemploying -his time; and that, for the business of life, common -mathematics is quite enough of mathematical science. -He throws up his Euclid, and addresses himself to some -other study, which in its turn is again relinquished, on some -equally wise suggestion: and thus life is spent in changing -his plans. You cannot but perceive the folly of this course; -and the worse effect of it is, the fixing on your mind a habit -of indecision, sufficient of itself to blast the fairest prospects. -No—take your course wisely, but firmly: and having taken -it, hold upon it with heroic resolution; and the Alps and -Pyrenees will sink before you—the whole empire of learning -will lie at your feet; while those who set out with you, but -stopped to change their plans, are yet employed in the very -profitable business of changing their plans. Let your motto -be <em>Perseverance</em>. Practise upon it, and you will be convinced -of its value by the distinguished eminence to which it will -conduct you.—<cite>Wirt’s Essays.</cite></p> - -<p class="gap4"><span class="smcap">Ill Temper.</span>—Mankind are ignorant enough, both in the -mass, about general interests, and individually, about the -things which belong to their peace; but of all mortals none -perhaps are so awfully self-deluded as the unamiable. They -do not, any more than others, sin for the sake of sinning; but -the amount of woe caused by their selfish unconsciousness is -such as may well make their weakness an equivalent for other -men’s gravest crimes. There are great diversities of hiding-places -for their consciences—many mansions in the dim prison -of discontent; but it may be doubted whether, in the hour -when all shall be uncovered to the eternal day, there will be -revealed a lower deep than the hell which they have made. -They perhaps are the only order of evil ones who suffer hell -without seeing and knowing that it is hell. But they are under -a heavier curse even than this; they inflict torments, second -only to their own, with an unconsciousness almost worthy -of spirits of light. While they complacently conclude themselves -the victims of others, or pronounce that they are too -singular, or too refined, for common appreciation, they are -putting in motion an enginery of torture whose aspect will -one day blast their minds’ sight. The dumb groans of their -victims will sooner or later return upon their ears from the -heights of the heaven to which the sorrows of men daily ascend. -The spirit sinks under the prospect of the retribution of the -unamiable; if there be indeed an eternal record—an impress -on some one or other human spirit—of every chilling frown, -of every querulous tone, of every bitter jest, of every insulting -word—of all abuses of that tremendous power which mind has -over mind. The throbbing pulses, the quivering nerves, the -wrung hearts, that surround the unamiable—what “a cloud -of witnesses” is here! and what plea shall avail against them? -The terror of innocents who should know no fear—the vindictive -emotions of dependents who dare not complain—the -faintness of heart of life-long companions—the anguish of -those who love—the unholy exultation of those who hate—what -an array of judges is here! and where can an appeal be -lodged against their sentence? Is pride of singularity a rational -plea? Is super-refinement, or circumstance from God, -or uncongeniality in man, a sufficient ground of appeal, when -the refinement of one is a grace granted for the luxury of all, -when circumstance is given to be conquered, and uncongeniality -is appointed for discipline? The sensualist has brutified -the seraphic nature with which he was endowed—the depredator -has intercepted the rewards of toil, marred the image -of justice, and dimmed the lustre of faith in men’s minds—the -imperial tyrant has invoked a whirlwind to lay waste, -for an hour of God’s eternal year, some region of society. -But the unamiable—the domestic torturer—has heaped wrong -on wrong and woe on woe, through the whole portion of -time that was given him, until it would be rash to say that -there are any others more guilty than he. If there be hope -or solace for the domestic torturer, it is that there may have -been tempers about him the opposite of his own. It is matter -of humiliating gratitude that there were some which he could -not ruin, and that he was the medium of discipline by which -they were exercised in forbearance, in divine forgiveness and -love. If there be solace in such an occasional result, let it -be made the most of by those who need it; for it is the only -possible alleviation to their remorse. Let them accept it as -the free gift of a mercy which they have insulted, and a long-suffering -which they have defied.—<cite>From Deerbrook, a Tale, by -Harriet Martineau.</cite></p> - -<p class="gap4"><span class="smcap">Slander and Vindication.</span>—Vindication in some cases -partakes of the same qualities that Homer ascribes to prayer. -Slander, “strong, and sound of wing, flies through the world, -afflicting men;” but Vindication, lame, wrinkled, and imbecile, -for ever seeking its object, and never obtaining it, follows -after, only to make the person in whose behalf it is employed -more completely the scorn of mankind. The charge against -him is heard by thousands, the vindication by few. Wherever -Vindication comes, is not the first thing it tells of the -unhappy subject of it, that his character has been tarnished, -his integrity suspected—that base motives and vile actions -have been imputed to him—that he has been scoffed at by -some, reviled by others, and looked at askance by all? Yes; -the worst thing I would wish to my worst enemy is, that his -character should be the subject of vindication. And what is the -well-known disposition of mankind in this particular? All -love the scandal. It constitutes a tale that seizes upon the -curiosity of our species; it has something deep and obscure, and -mysterious in it; it has been whispered from man to man, and -communicated by winks, and nods, and shrugs, the shaking -of the head, and the speaking motion of the finger. But -Vindication is poor, and dry, and cold, and repulsive. It -rests in detections and distinctions, explanations to be given to -the meaning of a hundred phrases, and the setting right whatever -belongs to the circumstances of time and place. What bystander -will bend himself to the drudgery of thoroughly appreciating -it? Add to which, that all men are endowed with the -levelling principle, as with an instinct. Scandal includes in it, -as an element, that change of fortune which is required by the -critic from the writer of an epic poem or a tragedy. The -person respecting whom a scandal is propagated is of sufficient -importance, at least in the eyes of the propagator and -the listener, to be made a subject for censure. He is found, -or he is erected into, an adequate centre of attack; he is first -set up as a statue to be gazed at, that he may afterwards be -thrown down and broken to pieces, crumbled into dust, and -made the prey of all the winds of heaven.—<cite>Godwin’s -Mandeville.</cite></p> - -<p class="gap4">The weather is not a safe topic of discourse; your company -may be hippish; nor is health; your associate may be a hypochondriac; -nor is money; you may be suspected as a borrower.—<cite>Zimmerman.</cite></p> - -<p class="gap4">When all is done, human life is at the best but like a froward -child, that must be played with and humoured a little -to keep it quiet till it falls asleep, and then the care is over.—<cite>Sir -W. Temple.</cite></p> - -<p class="gap4">Time runs on, and when youth and beauty vanish, a fine -lady who had never entertained a thought into which an -admirer did not enter, finds in herself a lamentable void.</p> - -<p class="gap4">The poorest of all family goods are indolent females. If -a wife knows nothing of domestic duties beyond the parlour -or the boudoir, she is a dangerous partner in these times of -pecuniary uncertainty.</p> - -<p class="gap4">Friendship, love, and piety, ought to be handled with a sort -of mysterious secrecy; they ought to be spoken of only in the -rare moments of perfect confidence—to be mutually understood -in silence. Many things are too delicate to be thought—many -more to be spoken.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>Printed and published every Saturday by <span class="smcap">Gunn</span> and <span class="smcap">Cameron</span>, at the Office -of the General Advertiser, No. 6, Church Lane, College Green, Dublin.—Agents:—<span class="smcap">R. -Groombridge</span>, Panyer Alley, Paternoster Row, London; -<span class="smcap">Simms</span> and <span class="smcap">Dinham</span>, Exchange Street, Manchester; <span class="smcap">C. Davies</span>, North -John Street, Liverpool; <span class="smcap">J. Drake</span>, Birmingham; <span class="smcap">Slocombe & Simms</span>, -Leeds; <span class="smcap">Fraser</span> and <span class="smcap">Crawford</span>, George Street, Edinburgh; and -<span class="smcap">David Robertson</span>, Trongate, Glasgow.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. -27, January 2, 1841, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IRISH PENNY JOURNAL, JAN 2, 1841 *** - -***** This file should be named 54584-h.htm or 54584-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/5/8/54584/ - -Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by JSTOR www.jstor.org) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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