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not, it seems, square with the lordsjustices' designs, who were often heard to say that the more were in rebellion, the more lands should be forfeit to them.'" Therefore, in the midst of the deliberations of Parliament on the subject, a prorogation was determined on. The lords, understanding this, sent Castlehaven and Viscount Castelloe to join a deputation from the commons to the lords-justices, praying them not to prorogue, at least till the rebels-then few in numberwere reduced to obedience. But the address was slighted, and Parliament prorogued the next day, to the great surprise of both Houses and the "general dislike," says Castlehaven, "of all honest and knowing men."

risons throughout the kingdom to "kill and destroy the rebels." But those parties took little pains to distinguish rebels from loyal subjects. provided they were only Catholics, killing promiscuously men, women, and children. Reprisals followed on the part of the rebels. The nobility and gentry were between two fires. A contribution was levied upon them by the rebels, after the manner of the Scots in the North of England in 1640. But although to pay that contribution in England passed without reproach, in Ireland it was denounced by the lords-justices as treason. The English troopers insulted and openly threatened the most distinguished Irish families as favorers of the Rebellion. "This," says Castlehaven, " and the sight of their tenants, the harmless country people, without respect to age or sex, thus barbarously murdered, made the Catholic nobility and gentry at last resolved to stand upon their guard." Nevertheless, before openly raising the standard of revolt against the Irish government, which refused to protect them,. they made several efforts to get their petitions before Charles I. Sir John Read, a Scotchman, then going to England, undertook to forward petitions to the king; but, being arrested on suspicion at Drogheda, was taken to Dublin, and there put upon the rack by the lords-justices to endeavor to wring from him a confession of Charles I.'s complicity in the Rebellion. This Col. Mervin Touchett heard from Sir John Read himself. as he was brought out of the room where he was racked. But that unfortunate monarch knew not how to choose his friends or to be faithful to them when he found them. He referred the whole conduct of Irish affairs

The result was, as the lords justices no doubt intended, that the rebels were greatly encouraged, and at once began to show themselves in quarters hitherto peaceful. The members of Parliament retired to their country-houses in much anxiety after the prorogation. Lord Castlehaven went to his seat at Maddingstown. There he received a letter, signed by the Viscounts of Gormanstown and Netterville, and by the Barons of Slane, Lowth, and Dunsany, containing an enenclosure to the lords-justices which those noblemen desired him to forward to them, and, if possible, obtain an answer. This letter to the lords-justices, Castlehaven says, was very humble and submissive, asking only permission to send their petitions into England to represent their grievances to the king. The only reply of the lordsjustices was a warning to Castlehaven to receive no more letters from them.

Meanwhile, parties were sent out from Dublin and the various gar

to the English Parliament, thus increasing the discontent to the last pitch by making it plain to the whole Irish people that he abandoned the duty of protecting them, and had handed them over to the mercy of their worst enemies-the English Parliament. That Parliament at once passed a succession of wild votes and ordinances, indicating their intention of stopping short at nothing less than utter extirpation of the native race. Dec. 8, 1641, they declared they would never give consent to any toleration of the Popish religion in Ireland. In February following, when few of any estate were as yet engaged in the Rebellion, they passed an act assigning two million five hundred thousand acres of cultivated land, besides immense tracts of bogs, woods, and mountains, to English and Scotch adventurers for a small proportion of money on the grant. This money, the act stated, was to go to the reduction of the rebels; but, with a fine irony of providence upon the king's weak compliance, every penny of it was afterwards used to raise armies by the English rebels against him. "But the greatest discontent of all," says Castlehaven," was about the lordsjustices proroguing the Parliament -the only way the nation had to express its loyalty and prevent their being misrepresented to their sovereign, which, had it been permitted to sit for any reasonable time, would in all likelihood, without any great charge or trouble, have brought the rebels to justice."

Thus all hopes of redress or safety being at an end-a villanous government in Dublin intent only upon confiscation, a furious Parliament in London breathing vengeance against the whole Irish race, and a king so embroiled in his Eng

lish quarrels that he could do nothing to help his Irish subjects, even had he wished it-what was left those loyal, gallant, and devoted men but to draw the sword for their own safety? The Rebellion by degrees spread over the whole kingdom. "And now," says Castlehaven, "there's no more looking back; for all were in arms and full of indignation." A council of the leading Catholic nobles, military officers, and gentry met at Kilkenny, and formed themselves into an association under the title of the Confederate Catholics of Ireland. Four generals were appointed for the respective provinces of the kingdom Preston for Leinster, Barry for Munster, Owen Roe O'Neale for Ulster, and Burke for Connaught. Thus war was declared.

When the Rebellion first broke out in the North, Lord Castlehaven had immediately repaired to Dublin and offered his services to the lords-justices. They were declined with the reply that “his religion was an obstacle." After the prorogation of Parliament, as we have seen, he retired to his house in the country. Then, coming again to Dublin to meet a charge of corresponding with the rebels which had been brought against him, he was arrested by order of the lordsjustices, and, after twenty weeks of imprisonment in the sheriff's house, was committed to the Castle. "This startled me a little," says Castlehaven-as it well might do; for the state prisoner's exit from the Castle in Dublin in those days was usually made in the same way as from the Tower in London, namely, by the block-" and brought into my thoughts the proceedings against the Earl of Strafford, who, confiding in his own innocence, was voted out of his life by an unprece

dented bill of attainder." Therefore, hearing nothing while in prison but rejoicings at the king's misfortunes, who at last had been forced to take up arms by the English rebels, and knowing the lords-justices to be of the Parliament faction, and the lord-lieutenant, the Marquis of Ormond, being desperately sick of a fever, not without suspicion of poison, and his petition to be sent to England, to be tried there by his peers, being refused, he determined to make his

escape, shrewdly concluding, as he says, that "innocence was a scurvy plea in an angry time."

Arriving at Kilkenny, he joined the confederacy, as has been related.

From this time the war of the Confederate Catholics was carried on with varying success until the cessation of 1646, and then until the peace of 1648, when the Confederates united, but too late, with the Marquis of Ormond to stop the march of Cromwell.


SHE sang of Love-the love whose fires
Burn with a pure and gentle flame,

No passion lights of wild desires

Red with the lurid glow of shame.

She sang of angels, and their wings.

Seemed rustling through each soft refrain;
Gladness and sorrow, kindred things
She wove in many a tender strain.

She sang of Heaven and of God,

Of Bethlehem's star and Calvary's way,
Gethsemane-the bloody sod,

Death, darkness, resurrection-day.

She sang of Mary-Mother blest,

Her sweetest carols were of thee!

Close folded to thy loving breast

How fair her home in heaven must be !


I WAS very stupid in my youth, and am still far from being sharp. I could not master knotty questions like other boys; so this natural deficiency had to be supplemented by some plan that would facilitate the acquisition of knowledge. The advantage to be derived from a garrulous preceptor, whose mind was stored with all sorts of learning without dogmatisin or hard formularies, were fully appreciated by my parents. John O'Neil was a very old man when I was a boy, and he was just the person qualified to impart an astonishing quantity of all sorts of facts, and perhaps fancies. I hold him in affectionate remembrance though he be dead over twenty-five years, and rests near the remains of his favorite hero, O'Connell, in Glasnevin Cemetery. When he became the chief architect of my intellectual structure, I thought him the most learned man in the world. On account of my dulness, he adopted the method of sermonizing to me instead of giving me unintelligible lessons to be learned out of books. I took a great fancy I took a great fancy to him, because I found him exceedingly interesting, and he evinced a strong liking for me because I was docile. We became inseparable companions, notwithstanding the great discrepancy in our years. His tall, erect, lank figure and lantern jaw were to me the physiological signs of profundity, firmness, and power, and his white head was the symbol of wisdom. Our tastes well, I had no tastes save such as he chose to awaken in me, and

hence there came to be very soon a great similitude in our respective inclinations. I was like a ball of wax, a sheet of paper, or any other original impressionable thing you may name, in his hands for ten years, after which very probably I began to harden, though I was not conscious of the process. However, the large fund of knowledge that he imparted to me crystallized, as it were, and became fixed in my possession as firmly as if it had been elaborately achieved by a severe mental training. After I went to college he was still my friend, and rejoiced in my subsequent successes, and followed me with a jealous eye and a sort of parental anxiety in my foreign travels, and even in death he did not forget me, for he made me the custodian of his great heaps of literary productions, all in manuscript, embracing sketches, diaries, notes of travel, learned fragments on scientific and scholastic topics, essays, tales, letters, the beginnings and the endings and the middles of books on history, politics, and polemics, pieces of pamphlets and speeches, with a miscellaneous lot of poetry in all measures. was a great, good man, who never had what is called an aim in life, but he certainly had an aim after life; and yet no one could esteem the importance of this pilgrimage more than he did. He would frequently boast of being heterodox on that point. "You will hear," he would remark, "people depreciating this life as a matter of little concern. Don't allow their sophis


try to have much weight with you. The prevalent opinions which are flippantly spoken thereon will not stand the test of sound Christian reasoning. That part of human existence which finds its scene and scope of exertion in this life is filled with eternal potentialities. You have heard it said that man wants but little here below. Where else does he want it? Here is where he wants everything. Then do not hesitate to ask, but be careful not to ask amiss. When the battle is over, it will be too late to make requisitions for auxiliaries. If you conquer, assistance will not be wanted; if you are defeated, assistance cannot reach you. The fight cannot be renewed; the victory or defeat will be final. This life is immense. You cannot think too much of it, cannot estimate it too highly. A minute has almost an infinite value. Man wants much here, and wants it all the time." I thought his language at that time fantastical; now I regard it as profound. From a survey of his own aimless career, it is evident he did not reduce the good of earthly existence of which he spoke to any sort of money value. Those elements and forces of life to which he attached sach deep significance and importance could not have their equivalent in currency, nor in comforts, nor in real estate, nor even in fame. My old preceptor had spent most of his youth in travelling, and the picturesque meanderings of the Rhine furnished subjects for many of his later recollections.

of countless heroes and the crowds
of humanity that came and went
through the course of a hundred
generations- some leaving their
mark, and others erasing it again;
some leaving a smile behind them
on the face of the country, and
others a scar. He loved to talk
about the beautiful city of Bonn,
where he had spent some years, it
being the most attractive place, he
said, from Strasbourg to the sea-
for learning was cheap there, and so
were victuals-the only things he
found indispensable to a happy life.
He would glide into a monologue
of dramatic glow and fervor in re-
citing how he procured access to
the extensive library of its new uni-
versity, and, crawling up a step-lad-
der, would perch himself on top
like a Hun, who, after a sleep of a
thousand years, had resurrected
himself, gathered his bones from
the plains of Chalons, and having
procured a second-hand suit of mo-
dern clothes from a Jew in Cologne,
traced with eager avidity the vicis-
situdes of war and empire since the
days of Attila. It was there, no
doubt, he discovered the materials
of this curious paper, which I found
among his literary remains. Wheth-
er he gathered the materials him-
self, or merely transcribed the work
of some previous writer, I am unable
to determine. Without laying any
claim to critical acumen, I must
confess it appears to me to be a
meritorious piece, and I picked it
out, because I thought it unique
and brief, for submission to the

more I recall now with a melancholy regret the many pleasant evenings I enjoyed listening to his narratives of travel on that historic river, and in imagination sat with him on the Drachenfels' crest, looking down upon scenes made memorable by the lives and struggles

extensive experience and more impartial judgment of THE CATHOLIC WORLD'S readers. Having entire control of these productions of my friend and preceptor, I took the liberty of substituting modern phraseology for what was antique, and of putting the sketch

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