, Guelph to the contrary, notwithstanding.

 

Europe.” He has done wrong to emit a proper
guide to the whereabouts of the “conscience.” P00‘
ple may be apt to Inistake it. There are some men,
in fact, who go the audacious lengthof supposing
that there is a “conscience” in Europe, outside the
holy alliance, and even venture on the hypothesis
that the people who live in, and Cultiwte. these
Duchies, ought to have a voice in determining their
own destiny, the solemn signature of the heavy
This an-
nexation is their act, it is thefree expression of their
sovereig-n will; and many men there are, irreverent
fellows to be sure, who regard the recognition of
that sovereign will by a king as the greatest
triumph of the present century. Vice la Republique
.Dem0cralique et universelle.

_.v..~,V\~.\ .\,. N\.\,v\.. ».;-V\.\,.~.V~,~ A..~-

AN FXILES L 0 VES AND LONGINGS.
I love the land that nursed me—- ‘
Her emerald ﬁelds and plains,
I love their memories, trust me-—
My mother's mellow strains;
I love the friends I parted;
The honest-—the true hearted;———
Those dear ones, long departed,
Now free from toils and pains.
11.
I love the hill and valley,
Where oft I laid my head,
’Neath hawthorn. birch and sally
Upon the daisy bed;
I love the cookoo cooing,
The lark, the morning wooing
His heavr-nward path pursuing
Through the___ethcr overhead.
III.
I love the village bustle
Where mirth and wit abound,
I love the breezy rustle
On consecrated mound;
I love the noble hurling,
Where, like the billows curling,
Surge sway and strain the sterling,
While plaudits ring around.
Iv.
I love through dews at dawning,
To wander o’er the lea,
And sit ’neath woodbine awning
Where works the busy bee.
I love the lowing cattle,
The homestead: pleasant rattle,
The children’s early prattle,
Their innocence and glee.
v.
I love to see young fre§dom’s
Flags wave above my home,
So I be there to speed ’em,
Where once I used to roam.
I lovethe vale and fountain,
Deep echoes in the mountain,
The torrents rush to mount on
Like curls upon the foam.
v1.
I love the cromleach holy,

And all its shrine enshrines,
Whose shadow lengthens slowly
As the evening sun declines.

I loverthe country dances,

The lovers’ stolen glances,

And other happy chances
Unknown to the divines.

FA THER 0’ 0'ALLAHAN’S LEO’-
TURE IN CLEVELAND.
CLEVELAND, April 14, 1860.
EDITOR Pna:NIx—-Our people of this city were en-

tertained on last Wednesday night with one of those’

rare treats——a good lecture. I say rare, because, in

' these days of Anglo Saxon progress, the mounte-

banks who vend lectures and Yankee notions, have
brought this interesting source of public instruction
into disrepute, and every ignorant cackler who pro-
poses to “ raise the wind” by the lecture trick, can
get hacks of the newspaper to puff and inﬂate him
into public notice, one humbug forming a crutch to
bolster up the other.

The lecture on this occasion not being one of the
pecuniary kind, l-uckily escaped the notice of the
literary‘ gentlemen of “our city press.” The sub-
ject, Ireland—its past-—its present-—its future.
The lecturer, the Rev.  O’CallahaQ,is a pure speci-
men of the genuine Irish priest; ardently devoted
to his sublime calling, proud of his race, proud of
his descent, proud of the ancient glories of his an-
cient land, which he, the scholar, can trace through
her historic lore in an eminent degree, until revelling,
as it were, in the grandeur of the past, he returns
back through the black pages of her desolation, to
the doleful present, looks into the hopeful future
with eyes of enthusiastic inspiration, and speaking
Words of fervid prophecy, points to the time when
her glorious restoration shall take place. He laid
open the rich mine of Irish history, throwing aside
the layers of Anglo Saxon ﬁlth with which it has
been hidden for long ages from the eyes of mankind,
until his audience withdrew, delighted and astonish-
ed; delighted to ﬁnd restored, the line of connection
between themselves and their great fathers, the
instincts of whose blood are felt amongthem to this
dav, in their irreconcilable hatred to subjugation;
and astonishment at the magnitude of the wicked-

TEEZE PHCEINIX.

‘K.

ness that, not content with robbing them of their
material wealth, their liberty—~but would rob
them of their very ancestors. The proofs of his
argument were drawn, not from Irislnncn, for he
did not use one Irish authority, they were all
foreigners, even enemies, the Mclntoshes, VVares,
Camdens, &c., some of whom actually studied our
history in order to doubt and deface the record, until
in spasmodic nervousness they involuntarily admit-
ted the magniﬁcence of the structure they were
seeking to overturn.

In the course of his delivery, which extended over
two hours and a half, the Rev. gentleman completely
uprooted the commonly received theory, that it was
St. Patrick who introduced civilization into Ire-
land.

He proved beyond all possibility of doubt, from
the most authentic records of atiquity, that civiliza-
tion, literature and science existed in Ireland_ 750
years before the coming of Christ. The island being
colonised by the Phoenicians at that early date, and
they being complete masters of all the arts, science
and civilization then known to the world, brought
with them their knowledge and skill, and were con-
sequently as civilized in proportion to the parent
country, as the citizens of tne United States would
be in settling a new territory. One of the most
respectable proofs of a people’s origin, is their lan-
guage. The Gaelic consists of sixteen letters only,
and scholars, curious in research, after having com-_
pared them with those of every language known in
Europe, found nothing with which they could agree,
untill they tried them with those of the Scythian or
Phoenician language, and here the similarity was
almost complete, being neither more nor less than
the simple, original Phoenician characters, the lan-
guage from which are borrowed the purer portions
of the Greek and the Latin. St. Patrick brought
nothing to Ireland but the light of the Gospel, all
else is gratuitous nonsense to be coupled only with
the foolish snake stories, and the incontrovertible
evidence of the people’s mental cultivation, is to be
found in the readiness with which they accepted the
divine light of the Christian faith, and the immediate
ability and learning they brought to aid in its pro-
mulgation to other people. Preaching the faith to
barbarians, is always a slow and painful process,
requiring the fortitude of martyrs to continue it-, and
though St. Patrick might have made a barbarous
nation into christians, that he could have made them
into scholars and doctors is only pure nonsense. N o
sooner had.the Irish received the religion of Christ,
than they were ready to preach and teach itiito the
courts and colleges of the Pagan world. Some of
the oldest Latin manuscripts in existence were
written by Irishmen, and though the Romans used
twenty-two letters, the Irish in writing the Latin,
invariably used but their own sixteen. The Rev.
lecturer dwelt strongly on the fact, that, though
Irish scholars received the faith with avidity, the
stubborn resistance they offered to all innovation on
their literaay construction, showed the ﬁrm con-
sciousness with which they regarded its complete-
ness. After the fall of the Roman Empire, when
Europe was overrun with Wars and invasions, Ire-
land was the refuge of all who were in quest of
learning, even Camden admits that, “men ﬂocked to
Ireland for instruction, as people throng to a fair to
purchase.” To the latter expression the lecturer
took exception, as learning, there, was a free‘ gift,
and no purchase required.

That the arts and sciences ﬂourished equally with
literature in Ireland, the mouldering ruins that are
seen all over the Island, even at this day, give evi-
dence in their traceable proportions, that men of
mind had once lived there; and- the testimony of
continental travellers of forn‘er times, when these
ruins were in better condition-—as found recorded
still, in the continental countries of Europe——telling
of_the exquisite ﬁnish and design with which they
were adorned and constructed, prove clea-rlytliat
arts and science had gone hand in hand with lite-
rature in /Ireland since the remote ages of antiquity-
There is not much diﬂiculty in discerning between
the buildings or ruins refered to, and those of the
English time, as the latter have distinct peculiari-
ties, are invariably rude and tasteless constructions,
always built on rocks, precipices and out-of-the-way
places, where they could be best defended, like the
den of the skulking beast of prey, who feels no
safety but in comfortlcss solitude. VVhen we reﬂect
on the career of ruin run by English occupation in
Ireland—what a blasphemous mockery is this “Eng-
lisk Civilization.” It is like hogs in a garden, turn-
ing up the most precious plants, that they might
feed on the roots. People of merely material mind
may enquire what have we to do with antiquity and
the past ages? \Ve have every thing to do with
them; they are of the utmost importance to us; they
give us a national fame and character to reinstate
and defend, and if we shrink not from our natural

mission and duty, but press bravely on to its fulﬁl-

mcnt——the national fame and character which We
shall have reinstated, will spread their glory over
our name and race forever. VVe_ shall not be as a
people commencing an unmarked career, without
any distinct character to guide our course in the
chances of a new possession——we shall be simply
taking possession of our rightful inheritance, as
heirs to the Egreatncss of great ancestors; and, oh
God of destinies——to think of so great a prize within
our grasp-—shall we not clutch it! Q
But, to return to the lecture. The Rev. gentle-
man took a review of the fearful period of the Penal
Laws, when the brutal power of -a cowardly enemy
was let loose on the people, ‘without check or bar-
rier, moral or physical, and urged on by the malig-
nity of hatred, and the love of plunder, he continued

"still, even when there was no more plunder to,
be gained, with that love to torture, which impuni- -
.ty imparts to a coward. The record of these ‘times

makes one’s blood-‘run cold, in contemplating the
depravity of man. '

The lecturer then took a. View of the present day,
which did not much improve the "picture; when he
came to consider the immediate prospects of. the
future, he fell into the mistake common to those who:
are nnacquainted with the internal working. of the
national mind of Ireland at the present day, in as
much as that he seemed to base all of Ireland's hope
on Louis Napoleon. We should remember the stern
and solemn warnings of John Mitchell from Paris,
uttered in the very shadow of the Gallic Eagle,
when he said—the‘Em.peror will ﬁght—-but it will
be ‘for France—for France only. N ow, Irishmen
should also ﬁght for Ireland—for Ireland only.
But, if one cause can give strength to the other, it
becomes avital necessity, an advantage ordained
by Heaven itself, to wipe out the Anglo-Saxon
abomination for ever. You will see by this, that
the Rev. E. O’Callahan does not take his political
doctrine from the Right Rev. Doctor Cullen, as he
has no preference for a seven years’ famine, to a
French army of liberation in Ireland; n_or from the
Rev. Doctor Cahill -in considering it “the darkest
day that Ireland could see, the one on which Eng-

land would be worsted by France.”
P. K. W.

HOME S'C'E]‘.'E'S'.
ran crosunr. COURT-HOUSE.

TIPPERARY has been long distinguished by a ﬁerce spirit,
which manifests itself" ﬁtfully in the “ wild justice of revenge.”
It seems indigenous there, or if not, it thrives there beyond ex‘
ample. Nor does it appear likely it will ever be completely
laid. ’Tis not my purpose here so discuss its propriety, ﬁtness,
or necessity. It is a ﬁxed institution thereabouts, and seems to
have had its source in far and dark times. It ‘was on the sweet
face of Tipperary, the hungry fanatics that followed Cromwell’s
banner, ﬁxed their polluting gaze. “Soldiers!” said the bold
blasphemer, stretching out his iron truncheon from the bceast
of Sleive-na mban—“ Soldiers, this is a country worth ﬁghting
for.” His soldiers were just the men to whose greedy ears the
promise of booty was never addressed in vain. They did
ﬁght, and they clutched the rich reward. They were quax tered
in Tipperary, where the Norman lords had long before intro-
duced the beneﬁcent relation of landlord and tenant. Most of
these lords were driven from their inheritance, wherewith the
meanest camp-followers of Cromwell were invested. They were
in general, the garbage o£.the ﬁlthiest ha.unts'iu the great cities
of England. They acknowledged no obligation of law, or jus
tice, or decency. They trampled on the tenantry as if they were
very dogs. Nothing was sacred from their pollution. The home-
stead, the church, the altar—-nothing checked their passions or
stayed their lusts.

Their excesses—a ruined sister, a dishonored wife, a murdered
pa.rent—-it was of which “the wild justice of revenge” was born.
And it is the repetition of these excesses in a modiﬁed form
that has perpetuated it. Whenever a landlord is utterly regard-
less of the obligations of humanity. when he tramples on all
sense of decency, when he blackens the hearthstone and tumbles
the roof-tree, when neither sickness, nor sorrow, nor death, nor
ruin, can stay his desolating hand, a swift and sure messenger,
by night or day, sped with aim, as sure as the stroke of death
lays him low. Oh I it is a terrible practice this, and yet it is
done in the shadow of the gallows ; and who shall say it is
without warrant ?_ Who shall blame him, in whose soul, ruin,
and shame, and agony, have silenced the appeals of mercy and
of justice. A disquisition on this subject would be out of place.
It will be better illustrated by an example. The one I select is
of terrible import. It is associated_,with a memqyy that made
an indellible impression on me. I was _at school at Doctor
Bell-’s, in Clonmel, and found my way into the Court House.
Two men were on their trial for murder. John Doherty, late
Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, was their prosecutor. He
was a man of commanding presence, digniﬁed demeanor, and
lofty capacity. They were defended by Messrs. Hatchel and
Shiel, It was the ﬁrst time I was ever in a court,a nd the ﬁrst time
I saw Shiel, long the object of my idolatry. My disappointment
was extreme. He appeared to be acting a subordinate part.
His senior was a jolly-looking, athletic, commanding man, who
did all the work, and seemed responsible for everything. My
object, in going to the Court, was to see Shi'el. My object, when
there, was to watch the prisoners; they stood up against the
bars. One was very tall and very muscular. He had a green
massive he-ad‘ his hair cropped close, his eyes large, and blue,
and his nose booked and prominent. He stood grasping two
cold iron bars, all (lay, with his look ﬁxed on the witnesses, as
they swore. In that place, such scenes were familiar. Yet
nothing could be more terrible. That, man, in the dock, living
and breathing, and it may be hoping, is dead, absolutely dead;
his death is compassed as surely as if he were laid out in his cof-
ﬁn. Yet there he stands, as if grappling with the fate which he
could no more avert, than he could break the cold iron bars he
clutched. And why was be there ? '

The history is short and frightful. A slave-driver, named

173
Chadwick, was agent to an estate near Clonoulty. a place long
famous for irreverence to Saxon mastery and Saxon laws. The
estate skirted a bog, and at the other side 1-use low, irregular
hills, covered with brushwood. The very outline of the scene
was suggestive of turbulence. Chadwick took great delight in
grinding the faces of the poor. The interests either of mercy or
justice never, never pt ompted him. He was blind, and deaf,

n.

‘and callous, to every pleading of humanity. In the year 1825,

the typhus fever made sad havoc in thvatpart of the country.
A poor family, on whom Chadwick had long pantcd to puthis
heel, were seized with it. The father and mother were taken
off; so was a young lad, their son. While the destroyer was
thus making sure work of it. Chadwick was plying his means of
destruction equally zealously, and with surer gripe. There
remained but two young women, one of them delerious, and the
other barely convalescent, when Chadwick had his appliances of
evil completed. Ejectment inhand, and attended  the Sheriff
and his posse, he arrived onthe ground. He had his under-
st-rappers with him,men bred up in brutality. and incited to
the most hardened villiannies by thesorry example of “their
betters ” It was a poor, miserable cabin, in which lay the ‘déu.
t-ions woman, watchedand cared for by her sister, who ’rocked
to and fro, beside the straw on which ‘she lay, in wistful agony.

‘She was almost as unconscious as her’ charge ; and being com-

manded by Chadwic’k’s ruﬁians, she removed, withont"aifui1r-
mur, the sick woman out ‘on the dunghill. ‘Everything the hut
contained was thrown out, and it was then” set ﬁre ‘to. In.,the
middle of that ghastly spectacle, the Woman ‘died, Chadwick
"looking on at a safe distance. , P , ‘ I V‘

‘ A young man, a_farmer’s son, who lived some mi,'les,from the
scene, chanced that way, as Chadwick turned away his horse’s
head. He saw the ‘smouldering ruin and the corpse, and kneel-
ing beside the latter, he swore he would‘, at all risks, revenge
her fate. That oath, sworn in a scene of ghastlyihorror, was
kept in a scene of blood.” In broad’ day Chadwick was shot
down not many rods from where he had begun to “ameliorate,”
as above described. ' ‘ J

This m_an’s name was Patrick Grace. He acted on impulses,
in themselves the most chivalrous and noble. He thoughtall
others were similarly inﬂuenced. He did not disguiseghimgelf
in the least. He knew that amau named» Philip Mara. logked
on his act, and recognized him. His own concience and con.
victions justiﬁed him ; and, for the rest,,he had no care. Mara,
however had, or feigned, religious scruples. He became a
“stag,” and swift vengeance overtook Grace. _ He was t,1-19¢
convicted, hanged—hanged at0Holy Cross, within sight of his
father’s door. His execution was witnessed by thousands. The
scene, the cause, the ruins, imparted a. character of terror and
owe to the proceeding. Grace was young, beloved, handsome,
generous, and brave. He died penitently—but like a man,
As his spirit winged its way aloft, one deep utterance of agony
burst from ﬁve thousand hearts. He was regarded by that vast
assemblage, not as a culprit, but a hero. He shared among
those, most dear to him, several little, souvenirs. His glqves
he gave to a farmer named Russell, who drew them on. and said
aloud, he would wear them night and day, “ till Paddy Grace
was avenged.”

The body, when cut down, was thrown on a cart, like carrion,
and, amid the clatter of a troop of horse,,brought back, at a ra-
pid pace, to Cashel, to be disposed of as blin d‘ old “ George III.,
King Defender of the Faith,” should direct. He did directiin
this instance, that the body of his subject should be dissected
for the beneﬁt of science.

Philip Mara, it was, who enabled his Majesty to make this
beneﬁcent disposition of the body. What became of him, my
history can not relate. He was removed somewhere out of the
reach of vengeance. Thus baﬂled, this vengeance took a new
direction. The “ stag’s” brothers-—there were three of them-..
all masons. were devoted to destruction in the sanguinary
councils of the avengers. They were then engaged in building a
police barrack, near the spot where Chadwick fell. The people,
thereabouts, regarded it as a sort of grim memorial of their hero
ma.rtyr’s fate. It had, perhaps, another object, no less loath-
some to them, namely, to check what the government regarded
as their lawless turbulence. It may be, it is true, that the broth-
ers were innocent of the. slightest participation in the conduct of

ever paused to consider these nice distinctions, when stung by
shame and madness, and a sense of outrage and wrong it And,
moreover, the continuance of the Mama at their work, wa
taken as a sort of deﬁance of the popular indignation, to
they were, by no means, strangers.

The combination formed to take vengeance on them was ‘wide-
ly spread and well known ; yet was it kept a profound secret.
The task of despatching the Maras was allotted to men compa-
ratively strangers, while it was necessary, that some, to whom
they were known, should be present, to point them out among
the other workmen. Eight men watched them in a grove, near
where they worked, during a whole day, and fell upon them as
they separated from the others. Three shots were ﬁred at them,
but all three missed, and the Maras ﬂed. One tookshelter in a
house hard by. He was pursued, the door was burst in, and he
was put to death with circumstances of peculiar vengeance.

‘The Government and magistrates wereappalled. The foreign
garrison thrilled to its inmost core. They knew how wide-
spread was the conspiracy, and yet felt that it was safe in the
ﬁdelity of the pe0ple—“guilty” ﬁdelity they of course thought;
but neither philosophy nor religion has ﬁxed the character-
istics that make ﬁdelity guilty. The government offered a re.
ward of £2,000 for the conviction of the “murderers.” They
added to-'this a free pardon for any one engaged in the crime
who became an approver. Yet a whole year passed before they
discovered the least clue to the perpetrators of the terrible
deed; while they, on their part, pursued their usual avocationg
with complete unconcern. At last chance, and not treachery,
-furnished an approver. His name was Fitzgerald. Very young,
very reckless, very unscrupulous, and yet not void of generous
impulses and noble attributes, he had no occupation but the
desperate business of breaking, and evading, the law. He was
strong, handsome, intelligent, and courageous. These qualiﬂ-
cations are dear to the peasantry; and. he was as much an ob-
ject of love as of dread. He lived at the expense of the penu-
rious, on whom he often levied subsidies, which he as often
sharodwith the poor. He was prosecuted for one of these
exactions, and a bill of indictment for highway robbery, for
which his life was the forfeit, was found against him. For this
life he bartercd his conscience and his comrades. Two men,
named Lacy and Walsh; two brothers, named Keogh, and a,
servant in their house. Kate Costello. Russel, already mentioned;
his wife, his two sons, daughter. and servant maid, were arrested
on his informations. Kate Costello was taken, on his advice,

as a. witness to corroborate him; for he said she was sent by

the, “stag,” or the sentiments that inspired him; but who has i

which '