'But if we should fail,' observed the jailer, 'I trust you will act the part of a man.' 'I hope at all events that I will act the part of a Christian,' returned O'Donovan. 'I certainly would rather live; but I'm not afeared of death, and if it comes, I trust I will meet it humbly but firmly.' 'I believe,' said the sheriff, 'you need entertain little apprehension of death; I'm inclined to think that that part of your sentence is not likely to be put in execution. I have heard as much.' 'He is a gentleman,' replied the sheriff, 'by nature a gentleman; and a very uncommon one too. I defy a man to doubt a word that comes out of his lips; all he says is impressed with the stamp of truth itself, and by hn's he never committed the felony he's in for. Keep him as comfortable as you can,' They then separated. The love of life is the first and strongest principle in our nature, and what man is there except some unhappy wretch pressed down by long and galling mise 'I think, sir, by your manner, that you have,' return-ry to the uttermost depths of despair, who, knowing ed Connor; but I beg you to tell me without goin' about. Don't be afeared, sir, that I'm too wake to hear either good news or bad.' The sheriff made no reply; but placed in his hands the official document which remitted to him the awful penalty of his life. Connor read it over slowly, and the other kept his eye fixed keenly upon his countenance, in order to observe his bearing under circumstances that are often known to test human fortitude as severely as death itself. He could, however, perceive no change; not even the unsteadiness of a nerve or muscle was visible, nor the slightest fluctuation in the hue of his complexion. 'I feel grateful to the lord lieutenant for his mercy to me,' said he, handing him back the letter, as I do to the friends who interceded for me; I never will or can forget their goodness. Oh never, never!' 'I believe it,' said the sheriff: 'but there's one thing that I am anxious to press upon your attention; and it's this, that no further mitigation of your punishment is to be expected from government; so that you must make up your mind to leave your friends and your country for life, as you now know.' I expect nothing more,' returned Connor, 'except this, that the hand of God may yet bring the guilt of the burning home to the man that committed it, and prove my innocence. I'm now not without some hope that such a thing may be brought about some how. I thank you, Misther Sheriff, for your kindness in coming to me with this good news so soon; all I can say is, that I thank you from my heart. I am bound to say, too, that any civility and comfort that could be shown was afforded me ever since I came here, an' I feel it, an' I am grateful for it.' Both were deeply impressed by the firm tone of manly sincerity and earnestness with which he spoke, blended as it was by a melancholy which gave, at the same time a character of elevation and pathos to all he said. They then shook hands with him, after chatting for some time on indifferent subjects, the jailer promising to make his situation while he should remain in prison as easy as the regulations would allow him; or who knows,' he added, smiling, 'but we might make them a little casier.' that life was forfeited, whether justly or not matters little, to the laws of his country, will not feel the mercy which bids him live with a corresponding sense of gratitude! The son of the pious mother acted as if she were still his guide and monitress. He knelt down and poured out his gratitude to that great Being who had the first claim upon it, and whose blessing he fervently invoked upon the heads of those true friends by whose exertions and influence he now felt that life was restored to him. Of his life while he remained in this country there is little more to be said than what is usually known to occur in the case of other convicts similarly circumstanced, if we except his separation from the few persons who were dear to him. He saw his father the next day, and the old man felt almost disappointed on discovering that he was deprived of the pleasure which he proposed to himself of being the bearer of such glad tidings to him. Those who visited him, however, noticed, with a good deal of surprise that he appeared as if labouring under some secret anxiety, which, however, no tact or address on their part could induce him to disclose. Many of them, actuated by the best motives, asked him in distinct terms why he appeared to be troubled; but the only reply they received was a good-humoured remark that it was not to be expected he could leave for ever all that was dear to him on earth with a very cheerful spirit. It was at this period that his old friend Nogher M Cormick came to pay him a visit; it being the last time, as he said, that he would ever have an opportunity of seeing his face. Nogher, whose moral impressions were by no means so correct as Connor's, asked him, with a face of dry, peculiar mystery, if he had any particular wish unfulfilled; or if there remained behind him any individual against whom he entertained a spirit of enmity. If there were he begged him to make no scruple in entrusting to him a full statement of his wishes on the subject, adding that he might rest assured of having them accomplished. 'One thing you may be certain of, Nogher,' said he, to the affectionate fellow, that I have no sacrets to tell; so don't let that go abroad upon me. I have hard to-day, he added, "that the vessel we are to go in "That's a fine young fellow,' said he to the sheriff, will sail on this day week. My father was here this after they had left him.' mornin'; but I hadn't hard it then. Will you, Nogher, tell my mother privately that she musn't come to see me on the day I appointed with my father. From the state of health she's in I'm tould she couldn't bear it. Tell her, then, not to come till the day before I sail; an' that I will expect to see her early on that day. And Nogher, as you know more about this unhappy business than any one else, except the O'Briens and ourselves, will you give this little packet to my mother? There's three or four locks of my hair in it: one of them is for Una; and desire my mother to see Una, and to get a link of her hair to wear next my heart. My poor father-now that he finds he must part with me-is so distracted and distressed, that I couldn't trust him with this message. I want it to be kept a sacret to every one but you, my mother, and Una; but my poor father would be apt to mention it in some fit of grief.' 'But is there nothin' else on your mind, Connor?' "There's no heavy guilt on my mind, Nogher, I thank my God and my dear mother for it.' will bring the vengeance of heaven upon the head of every man havin' a hand in it. Will you, because he's a villain, make yourself murderers?—make yourselves blacker than he is?' 'Why, thin, death alive! Connor, have you your seven sinsis about you? Faith that's good; as if it was a sin to knock sich a white livered Judas upon the head! Sin!-oh hell resave the morsel o' sin in that, but the contrairy. Sure its only sarvin' honest people right, to knock such a desaiver on the head. If he had parjured himself for the sake of the thruth, or to assist a brother in throuble-or to help on the good cause--it would be something; but to go to—but— arra, be me sowl, he'll sup sarra for it, sure enough! I thought it would make your mind aisy, or I wouldn't mintion it till we'd let the breath out of him.' 'Nogher,' said Connor, 'before you leave this unfortunate room, you must take the Almighty to witness that you'll have no hand in this bloody business, an' that you'll put a stop to it altogether. If you don'tand that his life is taken;-in the first place, I'll be miserable for life; and in the next, take my word for it, that the judgment of God will fall heavily upon every one consarned in it.' 'Well, I can tell you one thing before you go, Connor-Bartle Flanagan's well watched. If he has been guilty-if-derry downs, who doubts it?-well never mind; I'll hould a trifle we get him to show the cloven foot, and condemn himself yet.' What for? Is it for slittin' the jugler of sich a rip? 'The villain,' said Connor, 'will be too deep-too Isn't he as bad as a heretic, an' worse, for he turned polished for you.' aginst his own. He has got himself made the head "Ten to one he's not. Do you know what we've of a lodge, too, and houlds Articles; but it's not bein' found out since this business?' 'No.' "Why, the divil resave the squig of punch, whiskey, or liquor of any sort or size he'll allow to pass the lips of him. Now, Connor, aren't you up to the cunnin' villany of the thraitor in that maynewvre?' 'I am, Nogher; I see his design in it. He is afeard if he got drunk that he mightn't be able to keep his own sacret.' an Article-bearer that'll save him, an' he'll find that to his cost. But indeed, Connor, the villain's a double thraitor, as you'd own, if you knewn what I hard a hint of?' 'Well, but you must lave him to God.' "What do you think but I got a whisper that he has bad designs on her.' 'On who!' said O'Donovan, starting. "Why, on your own girl, Oona, the Bodagh's "Ah, thin by the holy Nelly, we'll steep him yet, or daughter. He intinds, it's whispered, to take her off; he'll look sharp. Never you mind him Connor.' 'Nogher! stop,' said Connor, almost angrily, 'stop; what do you mane by them last words?' 'Divil a much; it's about the blaggard I'm spakin'; he'll be ped I can tell you. There's a few friends of yours that intinds, some o' these nights, to open a gusset under one of his ears only; the divil a thing more.' an' it seems, as her father doesn't stand well with the boys, that Bartle's to get a great body of them to assist him in bringing her away.' Connor paced his cell in deep and vehement agitation. His resentment against this double-eyed villain rose to a fearful pitch; his colour deepened his eye shot fire, and, as he clenched his hand convulsively, Nogher saw the fury which this intelligence had ex 'What! to take the unhappy man's life?—to murdher cited in him. him!' 'Hut, Connor; who's spakin' about murdher?' No, only to make him miss his breath some night afore long. Does he desarve mercy that 'ud swear away the life of an innocent man?' 'No,' he proceeded, it would be an open sin an' shame to let sich a netarnal limb of the divil escape.' It may, indeed, be said that O'Donovan never properly felt the sense of his restraint until this moment. 'Nogher,' replied the other, rising up and speaking When he reflected on the danger to which his beloved with the utmost solemnityUna was exposed from the dark plans of this detesta'If one drop of his blood is spilled on my account, it ble villain, and recollected that there existed in the members of the illegal confederacy such a strong spirit | down; you will hear from me, I hope, and hear that I of enmity against Bodagh Buie, as would induce them am well too.' to support Bartle in his designs upon his daughter, he pressed his hand against his forehead, and walked about in a tumult of distress and resentment, such as he had never yet felt in his bosom. He uttered this with a smile which cost him an effort; for on looking into the face of his faithful old friend, he saw its muscles working under the influence of strong feeling-or, I should rather say, deep sorrow 'It's a charity it will be,' said Nogher, shrewdly-which he felt anxious, by a show of cheerfulness, to availing himself of the commotion he had created, 'to stop the vagabone short in the coorse of his villany. He'll surely bring the darlin' young girl off, an' destroy her.' For a few moments he felt as if his heart were disposed to rebel against the common ordinances of Providence, as they appeared to be manifested in his own punishment, and the successful villany of Bartle Flanagan. The reflection, however, of a strong and naturally pious mind soon enabled him to perceive the errors into which his passions would lead him, if not restrained and subjected. He made an effort to be calm, and in a considerable degree succeeded. 'Nogher,' said he, let us not forget that this Bartle -this-but I will not say it-let us not forget that God can aisily turn his plans against himself. To God, then, let us lave him. Now, hear me-you must swear in His Presence that you will have neither act nor part in doing him an injury-that you will not shed his blood, nor allow it to be shed by others, as far as you can prevent it. Nogher rubbed his chin gravely, and almost smiled at what he considered to be a piece of silly nonsense on the part of Connor. He determined therefore to satisfy his scruples as well as he could; but, let the consequence be what it might, to evade such an oath. 'Why, Connor,' said he, 'surely if you go to that, we can have no ill will against the d-n villain, an' as you don't wish it, we'll dhrop the thing; so now make your mind aisy, for another word you or any one else won't ever hear about it.' 'And you won't injure the man?' 'Hut! no,' replied Nogher with a gravity whose irony was barely perceptible, 'what would we murdher him for, now that you don't wish it. I never had any particular wish to see my own funeral.' remove. The fountains, however, of the old servant's heart were opened, and, after some ineffectual attempts to repress his grief, he fell upon Connor's neck, and wept aloud. "Tut, Nogher,' said Connor, surely it's glad you ought to be, instead of sorry. What would you have done if my first sentence had been acted upon? 'I'm glad for your sake,' replied the other, 'but I'm now sorry for my own. You will live, Connor, and you may yet be happy; but he that often held you in his arms-that often played with you, and that next to your father and your mother, you loved betther than any other livin'-he, poor Nogher, will never see his boy more.' On uttering these words, he threw himself again upon Connor's neck, and we are not ashamed to say that their tears flowed together. 'I'll miss you, Connor, dear; I'll not see your face at fair or market, nor on the Chapel-green of a Sunday. Your poor father will break his heart, and the mother's eye will never more have an opportunity of being proud out of her son. It's hard upon me to part wid you, Connor, but it can't be helped; I only ax you to remember Nogher, that, you know, loved you as if you wor his own; remimber me, Connor, of an odd time. I never thought-oh, God, I never thought to see this day. No wondher-oh, no wondher that the fair young crature should be pale and worn, an' sick at heart. I love her now, an' ever will, as well as I did yourself. I'll never see her, Connor, widout thinkin' heavily of him that her heart was set upon, an' that will then be far away from her an' from all that ever loved him.' 'Nogher,' replied Connor, 'I'm not without hope that-but this-this is folly. You know I have a right to be thankful to God and the goodness of government 'And, Nogher, you will do all you can to prevent for sparin' my life. Now, farewell-it is for ever, him from being murdhered?' 'To be sure, Connor-to be sure. By He that made me, we won't give pain to a single hair of his head: are you satisfied now?' 'I am,' replied the ingenuous young man, who was himself too candid to see through the sophistry of Nogher's oath. 'And now, Nogher,' he replied, 'many a day have we spent together-you are one of my oldest friends. I suppose this is the last time you will ever see Connor O'Donovan; however don't, man-don't be cast Nogher, an' it is a tryin' word to-day; but you know that every one goin' to America must say it; so think that I'm goin' there, an' it won't signify.' Ah, Connor, I wish I could,' replied Nogher; 'but, to tell the truth, what breaks my heart is, to think of the way you are goin' from us. Farewell, then, Connor darlin'; an' may the blessin' of God, an' his holy mother, an' of all the saints be upon you, an' guard you now an' for iver. Amin!' His tears flowed fast, and he sobbed aloud, whilst uttering the last words; he then threw his arms about Connor's neck, and having kissed him, he again wrung his hand, and passed out of the cell, in an agony of grief. familiar face no more. When Nogher left him, a train of painful reflections passed through his mind. He thought of Una, of his father, of his mother, and for Such is the anomalous nature of that peculiar tem- some time was more depressed than usual. But the perament, which, in Ireland, combines within it the gift of life to the young is ever a counterbalance to extremes of generosity and crime. Here was a man every evil that is less than death. In a short time he who had been literally affectionate and harmless during reflected that the same Providence which had interhis whole past life, yet, who was now actually plotting posed between him and his recorded sentence, had his the murder of a person who had never-except remote- future fate in its hands; and that he had health, and ly, by his treachery to Connor, whom he loved-ren-youth, and strength-and, above all, a good conscience dered him an injury, or given him any cause of offence.to bear him through the future vicissitudes of his And what can shew us the degraded state of moral appointed fate. feeling among a people whose natural impulses are as quick to virtue as to vice, and the reckless estimate which the peasantry form of human life, more clearly than the fact, that Connor, the noble-minded, heroic, and pious peasant, could admire the honest attachment of his old friend, without dwelling upon the dark point in his character, and mingle his tears with a man who was deliberately about to join in, or encompass, the assassination of a fellow creature? Even against persons of his own creed the Irishman thinks that revenge is a duty which he owes to himself; but against those of a different faith it is not only a duty but a virtue-and any man who acts out of this feeling, either as a juror, a witness, or an elector for the principle is the same-must expect to meet such retribution as was suggested by a heart like Nogher McCormick's, which was otherwise affectionate and honest. In the secret code of perverted honour by which Irishmen are guided, he is undoubtedly the most heroic and manly, and the most worthy also of imitation, who indulges in, and executes his vengeance for injuries, whether real or supposed, with the most determined and unshrinking spirit; but the man who is capable of braving death, by quoting his own innocence as an argument against the justice of the law, even when notoriously guilty, is looked upon by the people, not as an innocent man-for his accomplices and friends know he is not-but as one who is a hero in his rank of life; and it is unfortunately a kind of ambition among too many of our ill-thinking but generous countrymen, to propose such men as the best models for imitation, not only in their lives, but in that hardened hypocrisy which defines and triumphs over the ordeal of death itself. Connor O'Donovan was a happy representation of all that is noble and pious in the Irish character, without one tinge of the crimes which darken or discolour it. But the heart that is full of generosity and fortitude, is generally most susceptible of the kinder and more amiable affections. The noble boy who could hear the sentence of death without the commotion of a nerve, was forced to weep the neck of an old and faithful follower who loved him, when he remembered that after that melancholy visit, he should see his From the Athenæum. WRITINGS OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. The Writings of George Washington; being his Cor- This important national work is now complete, and the anticipations expressed long since in our notice of the first volume (No. 326) have been fully realized. The labour of making the collection must have been immense. Some idea of its extent may be formed from the statement, that the original papers, including both Washington's own letters and those received by him, amount to more than 200 folio volumes. Then there were all the extant records of the old congress in MS., the archives of all the original thirteen States of the union, the private collections of all the influential or intelligent persons, who had preserved anything worth, or perhaps not worth, looking over. Again, such a work was not to be written without European investigations-more than 600 French official despatches relating to the subject were, we understand, submitted to the author in Paris. Under such a burthen of preparation as this, ordinary industry might well have sunk exhausted, without adding the necessity of reading and studying everything in print which could be considered correlative with the more immediate authorities, or conducive to the complete comprehension of the latter. However, the work is done, and done well. The Life, which accompanies it, is, to us, the least interesting portion of it. We admit the general impartiality, the candour, and the judgment of the writer, but it is, and perhaps necessarily, too abstract and too bald-a mere guide as it were to the true Life which exists in the accompanying documents. A review of the Life of Washington, in all its relations and remote consequences, is too vast to be grappled with in a journal like ours; but it may not be without interest if we give a summary recapitulation of the At fourteen, some of his relatives got him a mid`more notable points in the career and character of shipman's commission in the Royal Navy, and this that illustrious man, having reference particularly, not he would willingly have accepted, but his mother obto the éclat hitherto attached to them, but to their re-jected. He resided a year or two with a brother at condite bearings, as a disinterested observer may be Mount Vernon (named from the admiral, a family imagined to mark them at this distance of time and friend). Here the surveying was again practised. place. He now became intimate with Lord Fairfax and his 'The name of Washington is a rare one in this coun- brothers, English cavaliers and scholars, settled as try, as we are told it is also in the United States. Mr. planters in Virginia; his lordship was an Oxford man, Sparks, following in the trail of the late Sir Isaac and wrote some papers in the Spectator; William had Heard, comes to the conclusion that the family were been Chief Justice of the Bahamas; thus motley was originally from the north. In the thirteenth century the Provincial Society at that time. The former owned there was, and indeed there is now, in Durham, a immense tracts of wild land in the rich Alleghany valmanor of Washington, and here it is believed wasleys, and Washington,-such even then was his repuseated the original stock of all who bear the name. tation, was intrusted with the survey of them, though We know not that it can at all effect the question, but Mr. only sixteen years of age. One of the young FairSparks does not appear to be aware that there is also faxes went with him. The task was arduous. We a Washington in Sussex. However, three hundred have seen letters of Washington's, written at this years ago—in 1538,-a Lawrence Washington was period (Mr. Sparks does not insert them), in which settled in Northamptonshire, and served the office of he describes himself as "camping out" for weeks toMayor of Northampton. Two of this gentleman's gether, lying down in his rude cabin at night with his great-grandsons emigrated to Virginia about 1657, and feet to the fire and a buffalo-skin for a pillow. The became planters. The grandson of the younger married work was ably finished, and led to more; he continued twice, and by the second lady had six children, of surveying for three years: by this time he stood so well whom George was the eldest, being boru in 1730. with the public as to be named by the governor to a His father, who died when George was but ten years military command, with the rank of major, in the force old, was a rich and respectable planter. The education raised against the Indians, being now but nineteen. of all the children devolved on the mother, an uncom-Soon after, he lost a half-brother, and was left with monly intelligent and spirited woman. She executed her task most discreetly, and Mr. Sparks pays her a just compliment for training up the "Father of his country" that was to be, in the way he should go. She died, at an advanced age, while her distinguished son was President of the Union, and calling him "a good boy" to the last. the charge of his family and large estates, including Mount Vernon, which finally, though not at this period, came to himself. Here, again, his business faculties were severely tasked. In 1753 the French began to encroach on the English boundaries in the west, and here was a new theatre for his training; for more than twenty years from this date till the Revolution, Mr. Education was not at that time so well provided for Sparks shows how severe, yet how strangely fortuin the New World as in the Old. Washington, there-nate, so to speak, was the apprenticeship Washington fore, got but indifferent instruction at a common school. may be said to have served for the great after-work of Here, it is said, he indulged freely in athletic and his life. The governor now selected him for a mission military exercises, of which he was always fond, gain-into the wilderness to warn the French to withdraw. ing at the same time a good name among his comrades This was at the time a prodigious undertaking. The for his judgment, honesty, and manly demeanour. His distance to the French post was 560 miles. The jourMS. books, from the time he was thirteen, are yet pre-ney would now be accomplished probably in three or served, and show these traits very forcibly; they in- four days; Washington, though making all possible clude 'Rules of Behaviour' and 'Forms of Business,' haste, was a fortnight in getting to Will's Creek, still of an uncommonly mature character, though formed at in Virginia, and then twenty-seven days more to the this early age. He chiefly applied himself at school end of his journey. Of course he became well acto surveying, in which he made himself very perfect quainted with the country, encountered numerous Inand adroit. Several quires of paper, filled with his dians, made some useful acquaintances, and, above all, figures as diagrams, remain, and among them we inured himself to habits of privation and severe toil. find laid down all the land contiguous to the school The errand was executed to the entire satisfaction of house. At plan-drawing he was always dexterous, the governor, and the return tour safely accomplished, and this afterwards proved serviceable, as did his though not without many dangers. Imagine this first general accuracy in business. He studied no foreign President of the Union in the wilderness-on footlanguage: even the French he never learned to speak. with a single companion-making his bed on the snow, In his own tongue, indeed, he was chiefly self-taught. with no covering but a blanket. They come to the |