ally cleared. Still the father of the prisoners remained between his two attendants nearly insensible. He was almost the last to depart. I followed him out. It was a dark and stormy night. The wind beat full against the miserable wretch, and made him totter as he went along. His attendants were addressing to him some words of consolation connected with religion, (for these people are, with all their crimes, not destitute of religious impressions,) but the old man only answered them with his moans. He said nothing articulate, but during all the way to the obscure cellar into which they led him, continued moaning as he went. It was not, I trust, a mere love of the excitement which arises from the contemplation of scenes in which the passions are brought out, that made me watch this scene of human misery. I may say without affectation, that I was, (as who would not have been?) profoundly moved by what I saw; and when I behel this forlorn and desolate man descend into his wretched abode, which was lighted by a feeble candle, and saw him fall upon his knees in helplessness, while his attendants gave way to sorrow, I could not restrain my

own tears.

most every offence was connected with the great agrarian organisation which prevails through the country. It must be acknowledged that, terrible as the misdeeds of the Tipperary peasantry must upon all hands be admitted to be, yet, in general, there was none of the meanness and turpitude observable in their enormities which characterise the crimes that are disclosed at an English assize. There were scarcely any examples of murder committed for mere gain. It seemed to be a point of honour with the malefactors to take blood, and to spurn at money. Almost every offence was committed in carrying a system into effect, and the victims who were sacrificed were considered by their immolators as offered up, upon a justifiable principle of necessary extermination. These are assuredly important facts, and after having contemplated these moral phenomena, it becomes a duty to inquire into the causes from which these marvellous atrocities derive their origin.

The scenes of misery did not stop here. Old John Russel pleaded guilty. He had two sons, lads of fifteen or sixteen, and, in the hope of saving them, acknowledged his crime at the bar; "Let them," he said, in the gaol where I saw him, "let them put me on the trap if they like, but let them spare the boys."

The first and leading feature in the disturbances and atrocities of Tipperary is, that they are of an old date, and have been for much more than half a century of uninterrupted continuance. Arthur Young travelled in Ireland in the years 1776, 1777, and 1778. His excellent book is entitled "A Tour in Ireland, with general Observations on the Present State of that Kingdom." He adverts particularly to the state of the peasantry in the South of Ireland, and it is well worthy of remark that the outrages which are now in daily commission, are of exactly the same character as the atrocities which were perpetrated by the Whiteboys (as the insurgents were called) in 1760. From the period at which these outrages commenced, the evil has continued in a rapidly progressive augmentation. Every expedient which legislative ingenuity could invent has been tried. All that the terrors of the law could accomplish, has been put into experiment without avail.

But I shall not proceed farther in the detail of these dreadful incidents. There were many other trials at the assizes, in which terrible disclosures of barbarity took place. For three weeks the two Judges were unremittingly employed in trying cases of dreadful atrocity, and in almost every instance the perpetrators of crimes the most detestable, were persons whose general moral conduct stood in a wonderful contrast with

their isolated acts of depravity. Al- Special commissioners and special

delegations of counsel have been almost annually despatched into the disturbed districts, and crime appears to have only undergone a pruning, while its roots remained untouched. Mr. Doherty is not the first Solicitor General of great abilities who has been despatched by Government for the purpose of awing the peasantry into their duty. The present Chief Justice of the King's Bench, upon filling Mr. Doherty's office, was sent upon the same painful errand, and after having been equally successful in procuring the conviction of malefactors, and brandished the naked sword of justice, with as puissant an arm, new atrocities have almost immediately afterwards broken forth, and furnished new occasions for the exercise of his commanding eloquence. It is reasonable to presume that the recent executions at Clonmel will not be attended with any more permanently useful consequences, and symptoms are already beginning to reappear, which, independently of the admonitions of experience, may well induce an apprehension that before much time shall go by, the law officers of the crown will have to go through the same terrible routine of prosecution. It is said, indeed, by many sanguine speculators on the public peace, that now, indeed, something effectual has been done, and that the gaol and the gibbet there have given a lesson that will not be speedily forgotten. How often has the same thing been said when the scaffold was strewed with the same heaps of the dead! How often have the prophets of tranquillity been falsified by the event! If the crimes which, ever since the year 1760, have been uninterruptedly committed, and have followed in such a rapid and tumultuous succession, had been only of occasional occurrence, it would be reasonable to conclude that the terrors of the law could repress them. But it is manifest that the system of atrocity does not depend upon causes merely ephemeral, and cannot, therefore, be under the operation of temporary

checks. We have not merely wit nessed sudden inundations which, af ter a rapid desolation, have suddenly subsided; we behold a stream as deep as it is dark, which indicates, by its continuous current, that it is derived from an unfailing fountain, and which, however augmented by the contribution of other springs of bitterness, must be indebted for its main supply to some abundant and distant source. Where then is the well-head to be found? Where are we to seek for the origin of evils, which are of such a character that they carry with them the clearest evidence that their causes must be as enduring as themselves? It may at first view, and to any man who is not well acquainted with the moral feelings and habits of the great body of the population of Ireland, seem a paradoxical proposition that the laws which affect the Roman Catholics furnish a clue by which, however complicated the mazes may be which constitute the labyrinth of calamity, it will not be difficult to trace our way. It may be asked, with a great appearance of plausibility, (and io. deed it is often inquired,) what pos sible effect the exclusion of a few Roman Catholic gentlemen from Par liament, and of still fewer Roman Catholic barristers from the bench, can produce in deteriorating the mo ral habits of the people? This, however, is not the true view of the matter. The exclusion of Roman Catholics from office is one of the results of the penal code, but it is a sophism to suggest that it is the sum total of the law itself, and that the whole of it might be resolved into that single proposition. The just mode of presenting the question would be this: "What effect does the penal code produce by separat ing the higher and the lower orders from each other ?”

The law divides the Protestant proprietor from the Catholic tiller of the soil, and generates a feeling of tyrannical domination in the one, and of hatred and distrust in the oth er. The Irish peasant is not divided

from his landlord by the ordinary demarcations of society. Another bar rier is erected, and, as if the poor and the rich were not already sufficiently

which belong to the legal creed. It is not, therefore, wonderful that they should feel themselves a branded caste; that they should have a conseparated, religion is raised as an ad-sciousness that they belong to a deditional boundary between them. The based and inferior community; and operation of the feelings, which are the having no confidence in the upper consequence of this division, is strong- classes, and no reliance in the sectaer in the county of Tipperary than rian administration of the law, that elsewhere. It is a peculiarly Crom- they should establish a code of barwellian district, or, in other words, the barous legislation among themselves, holy warriors of the Protector chose and have recourse to what Lord Bait as their land of peculiar promise, con calls "the wild justice" of reand selected it as a favourite object venge. A change of system would of confiscation. The lower orders not perhaps produce immediate efhave good memories. There is fects upon the character of the peoscarce a peasant who, as he passes ple: but I believe that its results the road, will not point to the splen- would be much more speedy than is did mansions of the aristocracy, em- generally imagined. At all events, bowered in groves, or rising upon the experiment of conciliation is fertile elevations, and tell you the worth the trial. Every other expe name of the pious Corporal, or the dient has been resorted to, and has inspired Serjeant, from whom the wholly failed. It remains that the present proprietors derive a title legislature, after exhausting all other which, even at this day, appears to means of tranquillising Ireland, be of a modern origin. These remi- should, upon a mere chance of sucniscences are of a most injurious ten- cess, adopt the remedy which has at dency. But, after all, it is the system least the sanction of illustrious names of religious separation which nurtures for its recommendation. The union the passions of the peasantry with of the two great classes of the people these pernicious recollections. They in Ireland, in other words, the emanare not permitted to forget that Pro- cipation of the Roman Catholics, is testantisin is stamped upon every in- in this view not only recommended stitution in the country, and their by motives of policy, but of humaniown sunderance from the privileged ty; for who that has witnessed the class is perpetually brought to their scenes which I have (perhaps at too minds. Judges, sheriffs, magistrates, much length) detailed in these pages, Crown counsel, law officers,-all are can fail to feel that, if the demoralProtestant. The very sight of a court isation of the people arises from bad of justice reminds them of the de- government, the men who from feelgradations attached to their religion, ings of partisanship persevere in that by presenting them with the ocular system of misrule, will have to renproof of the advantages and honours der a terrible account?

STANZAS WRITTEN FOR MUSIC.

LADY, why thus turn away

Youth and beauty's sunny glance? Why, where all around are gay,

Tread'st not thou the lightsome dance? Are thy thoughts on music bent,

Is't for that thy young cheeks glow? Would'st thou hence the minstrel went ? Lady, no! lady, no!

Hark! I hear a deep-drawn sigh!

Wildly throbs thy snowy breast! Lo! a tear-drop pearls thine eyeIs it Pity's pilgrim guest!

Yet that sigh what does it there?
Wherefore does that tear-drop flow?
Is it sorrow claims thy care?
Lady, no lady, no!

Near thee stands a youthful form,
Looking thoughts no words may speak;
Glances bright, and blushes warm,

Light his eye, and rose his cheek;
For he sings of" Love's young dream,"
O'er his lyre as bends he low;
Would'st thou have him change the theme?
Lady, no! lady, no!

GLEANINGS AT CONSTANTINOPLE.

THE
HERE is no European capital
so beautifully situated as Con-
stantinople. Encompassed by seas,
swarming with life, and by a region
of eminent fertility, nature seems to
have secured it against any want of
the necessaries of life; and from the
mildness of its climate, the loveliness
of its varied scenery, the abundance
of its streams, and the noble expanse
and depth of its sheltered harbour,
to have peculiarly fitted it for the
purposes of social existence and in-
ternational enterprise.

Like ancient Rome, Constantinople crowns the summit of seven hills, or rather acclivities, which are readily discernible as the eye traces its longitudinal expanse from the northern side of the harbour. Towards the south, it discovers the Mysian Olympos, clad in eternal snow, and immediately opposed to it, the Argauthonis, glorying in its forest of oaks and boe trees. Immediately behind Scutari, lies the double-peaked Damatris, (from an adjacent vil lage now called Bolgarlu.) An hour spent in ascending to its summit is richly compensated by a finer prospect than you can elsewhere enjoy, of the delightful environs of this capital. Following the sinuous course of the Bosphorus from its very mouth, the view spreads across the thickly-studded towers of Constantinople to the expanding plains of the Propontis, where it encounters the Prince's and Marmaric Isles, and thence stretches to the far-distant mouth of the Hellespont.

The celebrated "Mountain of Giants," rises immediately from the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus, near its uppermost narrowing, opposite to Berjukdere. The foot of this mountain was formerly adorned by the temple of Jupiter Urios, from whence the heathens proceeded to explore the "Camp of Hercules" on its summit. The gigantic site of this encampment is still an object of pil

grimage to the pious Moslem, who, by the way, has transformed it into the "tomb of the prophet Joshua!"

The Koran lays down seven seas as the basis of Mohammedan hydrography, and therefore right dear to the eye of its disciple, are the seven great reservoirs of the Propontis, the Bosphorus, the Pontus, the Palus Mæotis, the Hellespont, the Egean, and the Mediterranean. Whilst on this subject, I cannot refrain from observing that the fertile imagination of the East has baptised the seven great oceans of his globe with the names of so many colours. In his geographical nomenclature, there fore, the Archipelago and Mediter ranean become the White, the Pontus or Euxine the Black, the Caspian the Green, the Arabian gulph the Red, the Persian the Blue, the Chinese the Yellow, and the Atlantic, the Brown, or daik seas.

For extent and depth, there is probably no harbour in the world superior to Coustantinople. Is breadth, between the point of the Seraglio and Topchaua is not less than five hundred fathoms; its length exceeds four thousand; and its depth is so great, that the largest vessels may cast anchor close to its marge. By means of a constant current, ua ture has provided for an immediate removal of those fetid and insalu brious disgorgings, which are the inevitable concomitants of populous cities. The entrance to this magnificent harbour is somewhat impeded by the conflicting streams, which join, and issue at its mouth, but when once it is effected, the mariner may defy the virulence of wind and

waves.

Here, again, I must have my own way, and remind you, that the wealth, which this harbour formerly boasted, both upon the surface of its waters as well as below them, induced the ancients to call it Chrysokeras, or the "Golden Horn."