A SPIRIT OF BY-GONE YEARS.

BY J. GOSLIN.

By heedless chance I turned mine eyes,
And by the moonbeam shook to see
A stern and stalwart ghost arise."

BURNS.

But

Jemmy Hawkins-could we awake him from his long sleep, to stand before us as he stood fifty years ago-would serve as a fair specimen of that comical, reckless, devil-may-care class, whose illluck would never allow to remain quiet for a single moment. He was about six feet two inches in height," in his stockin' feet," as he himself used to boast, with a singularly droll and humorous countenance; fine blue eyes, and a mouth for ever expanding into a laugh. Give Jemmy a bottle of usquebaugh to deal with as he wished, and you would open a fountain of fun and wit that would In the August number of this magazine there pour unceasingly while one drop of the "creature" appeared a very clever article, by Leitch Richie, remained to give force to its expulsion. entitled "The Ghost;" in which, not only the withal, there were many noble traits in his chapower, but the reality of a person's re-appearance racter, which a more refined and cultivated mind on this earth are questioned. Now, with the witch could scarcely surpass. He was the first to give of Endor before our eyes, we will not attempt to assistance to a friend, aye, or even to an enemy, say that such a thing has never been known; but when they needed it; and the cry of distress never we would observe that man is naturally so weak- struck on his ear without awaking an echo in his minded that even the "pictures of the imagina-heart, which died away only when the source tion," or of a disordered intellect, are often conwhence it had originated had been appeased. strued into flesh and blood; or, what is worse, the apparition of what were once so. This is an universal human weakness, and extends not only through all classes of society, from the throne to the cabin, but also through all places and ages, and is a doctrine handed down from generation to generation as carefully as if the belief therein were an article of salvation. That the mind, acting under its influence, is, as it were, loosed from all restraint, and liable to be carried off in the whirlwind of desperation, I will endeavour to show; but, first, I would preface the attempt by a few

observations.

Perhaps there never were any two successive generations of Irishmen so totally dissimilar in many of their customs and habits of life as the present one and its predecessor. One was an ardent, fiery, unhesitating spirit, ever ready to run "where danger led the way;" in whose sight the ups and downs" of life, though generally of some importance, appeared as mere molehills, easy to be passed over, and scarce worthy of observation. The other is a more thoughtful and sentimental being, endowed with the virtues, without many of the vices, of its predecessor. It passes on through life, leaning on the arm of temperance, and looking forward, with a sort of nervous uneasiness, at the obstacles which ever and anon start up in its path; picking its steps with the greatest care, as if fearful of being dirtied by the mire in which its fathers wallowed. Strange revolution! In truth, it appears as if all the boiling enthusiasm of man were compressed into the cylinder of the steam-engine, in lieu of a recompense for the invention; thus fulfilling the original law of nature, which ordains that the increase of one substance shall be equipoised by the deficiency of another. But still, the change seems hard to be borne, particularly by that venerable remnant who have "outlived their friends," and who sigh to think of the times of Curran and his contemporaries-those merry times-ere men's minds ran mad after steam and atmospheric projects, upsetting in their haste the bounds and landmarks wisely laid down by their fathers.

But, with all his good and bad qualities, he was of a superstitious turn of mind, dreading above all things each and all of those innumerable hosts of supernatural beings-fairies, ghosts, fetches, witches, good and bad spirits, &c., &c.—

which are said to hold intercourse with man. But to do justice to his memory, it is only fair to add that we consider this no disgrace. Man is naturally superstitious, and the stoutest heart that ever beat beneath shield or armour might quail with awe at the melancholy cry of the banshee, or the mysterious beatings of the death-watch. Even Burns, the immortal Burns, was not exempt from this; for we find him observing in his autobiography, it "had so strong an effect on my imagination, that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I sometimes keep a sharp look out in suspicious places; and though nobody can be more sceptical than I am in such matters, yet it often takes an effort of philosophy to shake off these idle terrors." Thus it is with many; they keep a "sharp look out," even where they dare not expect to see anything uncommon; and when they do call in philosophy's aid, are surprised to discover that they have been watching for what, above all other things, they would not wish to see.

One cold December night, a number of carmen were seated round a blazing fire in the kitchen of "Bulger's Inn," Kevin-street-the place where the carmen of Wicklow and Wexford usually

put up" when they came to Dublin with commodities for the market-Jemmy was one of the number; and, having transacted all his business, determined now to indulge himself during the few hours that remained, as early in the morning he should again face the "county of goat-suckers."* Volleys of fun and wit would now and then burst out, and the loud laugh silenced for the moment the hoarse voice of Boreas as he howled outside the window.

"Come, Bill," said Jemmy, to one of his companions, "show us the pistols that you've bought

* Goat-suckers; soubriquet of the county Wicklow people.

for the masther. I s'pose they're goold an' silver mounted?"

"Jist so, my darlint," replied Bill, pulling a brace of small duelling-pistols out of his capacious coat-pocket; "Jist so, ould boy. Did ye ever see such convaynient craytures in all yer life? Rale jewellin' pistols."

"Jewils did ye say, Bill? Tare-an-ouns, man alive, let us look at them."

Jemmy got the pistols in his hand; and, having never handled fire-arms before, took some time to examine them. Everything surprised him; and, having in vain endeavoured to think what the works could be intended for, handed them back to Bill, inquiring if the flint and the little thing (meaning the trigger) were any good, Bill then commenced a very grandiloquent lecture, in the course of which he described the whole process of loading and firing, and concluded by giving a "flash in the pan," which satisfied his audience as to the explosive powers of the weapons.

"Will any of yees save me?" he continued. "Bill Byrne, will ye waken? Terry Coogan, do ye remimber when I saved ye from the gauger and the sojers, that destroyed yer beautiful still? Ochone! ochone! will no one take part wid a poor man, the father o' sivin childher?""

Still this produced no effect on the sleepers; and Jemmy was about to make another attempt, when, perceiving some strange grimaces made by the object of his dread, he gave a shriek and dropped down, covering himself up with the bedclothes. He did not faint, although he might have coveted that boon, but the drops of perspiration rolled over his face with comparatively as much violence as the winter torrents rush down his native mountains. After half an hour's shaking and trembling he again uncovered his head, and again encountered the same gaze, somewhat more distinctly, He strove to speak, but his tongue adhered to the roof of his mouth as closely as if they had never been separated, and he fancied he felt himself whirling Twelve o'clock came and went, and they had round the room and lifted up in the bed without almost all separated, except the more intimate any effort on his part. Suddenly a thought struck friends of Bacchus, who were grappling with that him that made him bolder than before, and he imgentleman under the table, when Jemmy, who had mediately acted upon it. Putting his hand down been watching his opportunity, observed Bill also by the side of the bed, he felt for the pistols in quit his chair for a less elevated position. He the pocket of his coat, and soon pulled up one, crept noiselessly over, and putting his hand into with the powder-horn and two bullets, and coman inside coat-pocket of the sleeping man, drew menced loading. I went the powder, till the forth pistols, powder, and shot, with about half-a-barrel was more than half full, then followed the dozen bullets, which he deposited safely in his own; and then, after giving a look round the room, to see that he had not been observed, left them alone in their glory.

With many mental promises of practice in the science of gunnery, he sought his bed-room, which, with some difficulty, he found; and, after fondly looking at his ill-gotten goods, threw himself into the arms of Somnus, and was soon lulled in the embrace of that god.

Some time or other in the night he awoke, and not feeling inclined to go to sleep in haste, commenced ruminating on the next day's anticipated good luck. The wind still blew with violence against the windows, and by an occasional gleam of moonlight he could perceive the shadows of the waving trees in the yard dance merrily on the opposite side of the apartment; and, as he gazed with superstitious dread-

"Fantastic figures grew

Like life, but not like mortal life, to view." Feeling very uncomfortable, he turned away from these phantasmagorian scenes; but, alas! a far worse sight met his eyes; for, directly before him, there appeared, as if by magic, a face sufficiently frightful to cause every hair on Jemmy's head to make a perpendicular movement.

"Oh, milia murther!" he exclaimed, starting up, "what 'ill become o' me? Oh, boys jewel, will one o' yees gie me somethin', if it was only a dhrink o' wather, to hould the life in me?"

A grunt from his bed-fellow-for, be it known, that in order to save room, these carmen generally slept in one apartment, sometimes two or three in a bed-was the only answer he got to this touching appeal.

bullets; and, finally, a piece of his shirt, as wadding; in all, making a charge that extended to the muzzle. Fully satisfied with his work, and confident that it could not fail, he determined to give his spiritual visitor, if such it was, a chance of escaping.

"Who an' what are ye?" he asked, "that's throublin' me this way. I niver robbed nor wronged man nor mortal, nor chayted a livin' bein' out of a fardin's worth of what belonged to him-barrin' the horse that I stole from the docthor, an' a few pigs an' sheep from one or other o' the naybours; but how will you iver know about that? So I call on ye to spake afore I fire-what's throublin' ye or keepin' ye from restin'?"

There was no answer; but he perceived the figure raise its arms, as if about to grasp him. He paused for an instant, then pulled the trigger; alas! there was no report, not even a "flash in the pan," such as Bill had given. What was to be done? Was the same power influencing the pistol that made his teeth chatter, and caused him to feel so warm on such a cold night? What would he have given to be away out of that, though it were on the top of Douce Mountain, or Lugnaquillia, where he would

"Think the rough wind Less rude than the foe he'd leave frowning behind."

But he was doomed-there was no escape, not even a moment's rest; for, turn which way be would, some fascinating power compelled him to look again at the dreaded visage.

After another half hour's restlessness, he again became composed, and ventured to examine the

"How dar' you, you villain, how dar' you strike a man down undher my roof? An' see there, there's more o' your doin's, you thief o' the worldmy beautiful lookin'-glass knocked into smithereens, an' I after payin' six guineas for it only th' other day."

pistol, when he perceived he had forgotten the priming, and immediately set it to rights. He raised it with trembling hands and fired, and then flung it from him with all his might, determined to be baulked no more. There was a tremendous crash, followed by a shriek of pain, but Jemmy heeded it not-the spirit was gone, and with a loud Jemmy scratched his head, and then ventured laugh he sunk down on the bed, and covered himto take a more accurate survey of the apartment, self up with the clothes. The uproar that followed and of the mischief which he had committed. At is indescribable-the doors of the various apart-his feet were scattered the fragments of a lookingments were burst open, and out rushed the inmates to discover the cause of the noise which had startled them from their sleep at such an hour of the night; and when Jemmy ventured to peep out, his eye fell on a strange sight, though not so fearful as the ghost. There were twenty or thirty persons in the room, old and young, male and female, all dressed in the best manner their haste and terror would permit them; wondering, lamenting, or condemning the author of the disturb

ance.

"Oh, the villains!" exclaimed the widow Bulger, the landlady," to make a target of my beautiful glass, that I paid my six guineas for only a fortnight ago!" and then followed a torrent of denunciations and threats.

Bill Byrne's first impulse was to try if his pockets had been picked; and missing the pistols, he seized his whip and went in search of the aggressor. The sight of a quantity of gunpowder on the floor beside Jemmy's bed, made him pause; and, fully satisfied that he had found the right person, he raised the whip, and with a loud whoop let it descend on the ghost-seer's side. Up jumped Jemmy, who as he did so received another blow across the shoulders that almost laid him prostrate. Explanations were unasked on either side. Bill handled the whip, while the other, armed with the powder-horn made a gallant defence, and seemed, by his superior strength and size, likely to gain the victory. Slash followed slash, and blow succeeded blow, with the rapidity of lightning; and in a few moments the spectators formed a ring round the combatants, and each began spurring on his respective favourite.

"Bravo Bill! that's it; across the shouldher. Now, Jemmy, mind yer eye, an' give him that in the lug. Hurra for the Byrnes! Who dar' say a word agin the Hawkins'. Now, Bill, once more for the goat-sucker, an' don't be afaird. Hurra! down goes the yalla-bellied jackdaw; he's kilt! hurra-a-a-a!"

Bill was not all out "kilt," but he was "flured," the blow had descended on the side of his head, which, though naturally a very tough part of his body, could not resist the giant force of the enraged, though guilty "goat-sucker;" and the victor stood over him, looking down with the utmost indifference, when the voice of Mrs. Bulger recalled him to his senses.

*The county of Wexford people were, and still are, called "Yellow-bellies; those of the town of Ferns, "Jackdaws," from the multitudes of that bird which formerly inhabited the ruins of the old castle.

glass, intermixed with portions of the gilt frame;
at one side Bill lay prostrate, and in a far corner,
three or four were dressing a man's head, which
was bleeding profusely. In vain he pleaded for
mercy, all his prayers and entreaties were laughed
at; and when he began describing the appearance
of the ghost, and the consequent proceedings, they
laughed him to silence. The man, too, whose head
was cut by the pistol when Jemmy flung it out of
his hand, was not backward in his threats of
vengeance; and it was only by the united efforts
of the more pacific, who kindly promised him
some pleasant months in Newgate, that his life was
spared. But he defeated them all; for ere the
sun rose the next morning, and when the household
was again buried in repose, he opened the win-
dow, and dropping down into the yard, easily
found his way from thence into the street. In
half an hour, he had crossed the Circular-road,
and with nothing but the stick in his hand, set off
for his own sweet mountains, leaving behind his
horse and cart, to find their way home as best they
could; and when he again ventured to cross the
threshold of "Bulger's Inn," he had the satisfac-
tion of learning that he was forgiven, though not
quite forgotten.

Dublin, August, 1844.

Heaven's sulphury flames diffuse their blasting glare

O'er the night-darken'd skies and deluged
ground-

Loud pealing thunders roll along the air,
And down to earth transmit their deaf'ning
sound.

Yet, gracious Lord, confiding in thy care,

Within my breast tranquillity is found:
To thy protecting power I raise my pray'r,
And hope thy mercy's arms will clasp me round.
No moment were I safe without thy shield;

My life might cease e'en with a zephyr's breath,
For it is frail as aught that paints the field;

But ne'er thine eye paternal slumbereth.
Then, though the tempest wrathful weapons wield,
Without thy word they cannot cause my death!