thrown at a long distance, to love her and to work for her alone. It is not so. I am feasting in all the luxury that my heart can desire: her magnificent mountains rise before me, in endless gradations of height, form, and distance, shutting me in, as it were, a most willing captive, dreading nothing but deliverance from my beautiful prison. The long hedge-row stretches away where the golden furze retains many a cluster of bright blossoms, intermingled with a profusion of honeysuckle, wild-roses, and the ever-precious flower of May, which seems to have lingered thus long to add an endearment to my welcome. The stately fox-glove rising from the bank below, intersperses its rich depth of tint, while the smaller flowers that lie basking in the beam actually defy enumeration. Then the pure, cold, emerald green, mantling the earth beyond; the lovely abundance of delicate foliage in some wooded spots, the deep, steady flow of the majestic Slaney, as it widens towards the sea; the mighty relics of sterner days, frowning, even in ruin, defiance from their rocky heights; all these, and much more have combined to fill my spirit with an enjoyment that derives its highest zest from the consciousness that it is upon Erin my eye rests, and the tear of delight that often dims it, springs from a source unknown to any but those, who have learned to love and to mourn over her as I have done. Alas! who can love her, and not mourn? Ireland is, in natural beauty, the garden of Eden: in the spiritual desolation of her native race, a howling wilderness. Look on the former, and all is harmonious loveliness, towering sublimity, unequalled grace: examine the latter, and your heart will quail before the horrors of that midnight gloom which wraps the souls and perverts the minds of her children. I speak of those who lie beneath the yoke of bondage, beguiled by the mystery of iniquity; the miserable tools of an incendiary priesthood, taught to saturate the earth which bears them with the blood of their best friends, and to resist, as an intolerable evil, the only sure means of their temporal and eternal welfare. tration of this, I will relate a story, exactly as I received it on the spot where the event occurred. It has added another to my reminiscences, calculated to stir up the most sluggish spirit on behalf of these deluded beings whom the present policy of infatuated England is delivering over, in ten-fold helplessness and hopelessness, to the grasp of the destroyer. I had long wished to visit the spot, where through God's mercy, the terrible rebellion of the year 1798 was stayed, though at a fearful cost of life; and the priest-led troops of insurgents utterly routed had abandoned the field, never again to assemble in any force. It was a lovely morning that my wish was gratified, and we started for Vinegar-hill. The road, wild and rough, lay through a beautiful track of country, diversified with mountain, field, and grove, to almost all of which belonged some tale of blood. At one spot it was remarkable, displaying to the left a field completely overspread with Heartsease, the little innocent flower smiling sweetly to the sun, while, on the right, beneath the shade of a few trees, stood a solitary tomb, the tenant of which had been there murdered and buried. His only offence was Protestantism. It was here that one of my companions related the circumstances of the widow's tale which I am about to repeat: and at my request he took me straightway to her cottage, where, while her aged cheek burned with the fever of excited feelings, and the tear that would start seemed to be dried in the glow of her bitter indignation, she confirmed, in her own energetic language, the history of her terrible sufferings. The She was the mother of nine living children, and in present expectation of giving birth to the fourteenth of her offspring, when the town where she lived was taken possession of by the rebel force. husband, a loyal Protestant, fell into their hands, and was conveyed to Vinegar-hill, hard by. Thither she followed to seek him; and hearing a simultaneous shot, in a place where some hundreds of the rebels formed a ring, she broke at once through it, and found a man, seemingly lifeless, extended on the ground-it was her husband; and the discharge that she had deliberate act of cold The tales that are told of scenes yet fresh in the memory of some in almost every village are harrowing: and, in illus- heard was the blooded murder. She threw herself upon the bleeding body, in time to receive the last farewell of her husband, who immediately expired. When the first agony of her grief had a little subsided, she humbly begged the corpse of its butchers, but was refused, and threatened with a similar fate, unless she made the sign of the cross, after their fashion, in token of renouncing her faith but no menace could prevail upon her to do this. Several priests came forward, trying every method of persuasion and intimidation, but all was vain. She then requested of them, as the greatest mercy they could show, to bring her nine children, to put them to death with her, and to throw all their bodies into the same pit. However, they drove her away; and after a long watch, seeing them disperse, she returned to the spot where she found her husband still lying, cold and stiff: she then hastened back to the town, in search of a carriage; but all her efforts could not procure a horse, nor any animal to draw the car which a neighbour allowed her to take from his shed. She waited till nightfall, then took her three eldest boys and two girls, and by hard labour, three pulling and three pushing the car, they got it to the top of the hill, placed the murdered body in it, and managing the yet more difficult descent, conveyed the husband and father to his desolate home, where they could indulge the agony of their hearts over the mutilated remains. there deposited the body, carefully closed it down, and at midnight, assisted by her children, all of whom were young, she got the box upon the car, moved it on as before by their united strength, and conveying it to the Protestant burying-ground, they there dug a grave, and under the gloomy sky of midnight, not daring even to let a plaint be heard, they laid the precious burthen down in its silent habitation, filled up the space, and returned to find their little cottage completely occupied by the rebel troops, who called the exhausted and heart-broken mourners to cook their food, and attend on them. This event could hardly have been forgotten under any circumstances; but it appears that, not more than three months ago, one of the family being buried, the grave was dug on the precise spot where the murdered man had been laid: and the old settle-bed was found, after the lapse of thirty-nine years, in such preservation as to identify it at once. I cannot doubt that to this circumstance was attributable some of the deep and vivid feeling of the old woman, who seemed to dwell upon the recital as of a thing of yesterday. I could not but, in my heart, re-echo her fervent expressions of attachment to the cause in which she had suffered so bitterly, but I spoke to her of the forgiving love of Christ, and sought to win her from the poignancy of her recollections, probably with little success and when, almost immediately afterwards, I found myself labouring up the difficult ascent where she and her poor children had forced the car along, I could not but marvel at the force of that affection, surviving the life of its object, and braving the sanguinary vengeance of a jealous foe, to achieve what seemed almost an impossibility. The hill is very steep, much interspersed with rock; and on its summit is a perfect ridge of that substance, rising to a considerable height, and afford But, among the Irish poor, nothing is deemed so important as a burial: to let a friend remain uncoffined is, in their sight, a heinous sin. The wretched widow again sallied forth, and sought by every means to procure a coffin: it was impossible-no one could have dared to make it for such a purpose, however well inclined; for the rebel force was encamped on the hill, and had unresisted possession of the town. Love, however, would not be baffled, when the dearest object of its de-ing on its flat termination a fine post for votion called for the last service that could be rendered; she looked about, and at last fixed on the best piece of furniture she possessed, a settle-bed, so formed as to afford a couch by night, a seat by day. She brought an axe, chopped off the legs and other appendages of the bedstead, and leaving only what supplied a sort of chest, to hold the bedding when not in use, she overlooking both the town and the surrounding country for many a long mile. To the right of this ridge stands a ruin, formerly a windmill, of which only a dilapidated tower of brick-work remains. This was perfect in 1798, and contained two stories; it was used as a prison for the wretched captives, who were brought forth and piked, or shot, as the vengeance and caprice of the rebels, directed by their wicked priests, dictated. The spot where they fell and were buried was pointed out to me; and there, in great profusion, I found a most beautiful pigmy race of flowers, adhering to the stones that occupy the soil, and bearing beneath their rich and creamy petals a sanguine blush too nearly allied to the harrowing recollections of the scene. I never saw this exquisite little blossom in such surpassing loveliness as on the grave of those victims; not fewer than twenty varieties of small and beautiful wild flowers might be gathered from among the heath and moss and rugged grass of that hill of slaughter-itself by no means large, among the mountains of Wexford; and when I looked around me, and followed out the long extent of smiling landscape, unmarked by a scar, and again glanced at the fairy blossoms that actually gemmed the rock beneath my feet, the swell of indignant sorrow became almost intolerable, to think that through the cruel neglect of those who held in their possession for nearly three hundred years an unfettered bible, poor Ireland has seen the blood of her children shed on every side, while their souls went down in darkness to the pit of destruction. It is futile to attempt an evasion of the charge. The blessings of the reformation have never yet been extended to Ireland. Our second Henry invaded the land under an express commission from the man of sin, at Rome, to darken the light which then shone upon it, and reduce it to the state of vassalage from which it alone, among the nations, was exempt. I have looked on the mighty fortresses that he built, to establish his progressive sway: and on their cotemporary churches, erected for the idol-worship of Rome, and crumbling into decay, without one proclamation of Gospel truth having been made within their walls. I know that the curse was planted here seven centuries back, by English invaders; and here I find it flourishing in hateful luxuriance, while the hands that would uproot it hang down, and knees that would hasten to the work wax feeble, through the lack of that encouragement which England at her peril withholds--yea, she smiles upon the deadly evil, fosters it as a desirable thing, and with daring hand deals "a heavy blow" at protestantism, which shall recoil upon her with a force to lay her proudest honours in the dust, unless she speedily repent. The Lord has wonderfully blessed the efforts of his servants who, individually, came to the help of poor Ireland against her foes; and they will find it no small matter to have cleared their own souls from the blood of this people; and to be found with His mark on their foreheads when the day of national vengeance comes; but it is a fearful thing to look abroad upon a population of many millions of immortal creatures, and to see six-eighths of the whole number delivered over to Satan, in the persons of his most active delegates, while the little remnant who have escaped the yoke are as sheep appointed to be slain at the first word of havoc from those to whom mercy and peace are alike unknown. This land of beauty was once the land of saints: she shone as bright in piety and learning as still she shines in natural loveliness and splendor. Who darkened the star? Oh, it is an awful question; for we allow the deeds of our fathers if we seek not by every means to remove the veil which they cast over her heart. Could I bring the Christian ladies of England to see what I am now surveyingthe struggles of a persecuted and impoverished church to gather into her folds the little ones from among the lost sheep of poor Erin-could I show them the works of mercy and love, laborious and long-suffering patience, carried on beneath the roofs of some village school that owes its existence to the self-denying generosity of a pastor whose lawful dues are withheld, and his home and life left at the mercy of those who hate him for his love to their souls-surely those Christian ladies would suffer the word of exhortation yet again, to abound more and more in the work of helping forward the cause of God in this land. This little Stonecrop that I brought away, a touching memento of the widow's tale, will flourish, I hope, in my garden, a perpetual preacher to quicken me in the service of its native land: for I cannot look upon it and forget the hill of slaughter; or cease to remember that the power which deluged it in innocent blood still exists unchanged and unchangeable, ga ter and delude himself, a stranger to the covenant of promise, without God, and without hope. Accordingly, we find in the ministrations and theological treatises of the old school a continual reference to this vital point; while the productions of private Christians of the same standing put in remembrance of it. I do not mean to say that nothing of the sort is to be met with in our day; but the instances of such preaching are not very frequent; and among God's people I meet with many perplexing questions, many doubtful disputations, the origin of which I can trace to a very dim perception of this great truth, and a forgetfulness of it in the ordinary affairs of life. thering daily new strength for another membership, but is, nowever he may flatout-burst of exterminating hatred against Protestantism. I speak not this of the misguided individuals, who are of all persons most pitiable, and the blood of whose souls cries out against those who leave them to perish in their guilt; I speak of the sin, not of the sinner. Or, if of the latter, I allude to the wilful and wily deceiv-show the effect of being thus perpetually ers, who lead them to destruction, and the unfaithful legislators who connive at it. The mightiest powers of earth and hell seem leagued to destroy this emerald gem of an island; but greater is he who is for her, than all that be against her. Midnight murder prowls round the base of her towering hills, watching its destined prey: but the mountain is full of horses and chariots of fire, guarding the Lord's devoted people. I weep, but I do not tremble: those who are hardening themselves against God will not prosper; those who drive their nefarious traffic in the souls of deluded men shall be put to shame and destroyed. The snare that is wrapped round this people will be broken, and Erin, "First flower of the earth," shall breathe the fragrance of accepted praise-"first gem of the sea," she shall once more sparkle in a light that cannot be quenched. The steadfast immoveable labourers who abound in the Lord's works, cannot find their labour in vain in the Lord. He may try their faith and patience in a yet hotter furnace, but the blessing will come at last; though it tarry, we will wait for it; it will surely come, and not tarry. "Fear not O land; rejoice and be glad, for the Lord will do great things." CHAPTER XXVI. BUDDING. IT has often struck me, that the main defect of modern preaching and writing, as compared with those of earlier times, consists in overlooking too much the great point of union with Christ. To dwell in Christ, and Christ in us, is the believer's privilege: it is the very principle of his life. Without such union he enjoys no It was remarked a short time ago by a noble and revered friend in whose family worship I was privileged to join, and who was expounding to his household the eighteenth Psalm, that the scripture which they were considering must be taken in a threefold application: the words were spoken by David, in his own character, they are spoken by Christ, through the mouth of David; and they may be spoken by the poorest, the weakest believer, in virtue of his covenant union with Christ. This, and many similar observations uttered at the same time, led me again to reflect on the unfrequency of what I know to be the words of truth and soberness, among Christians: and sent me into the garden to seek illustrations of a doctrine so important; for I well knew that they abounded there. The most striking representation had lately been presented to my sight in a specimen of the art of budding, carried to a singular extent. I had seen a Rose tree of immense growth, bearing in full beauty more than twenty varieties of that exquisite flower. From the deep crimson tint, and rich velvet petals of the damask, to the pale, drooping, transparent sickliness of the feeblest China rose, every gradation of hue, texture, and form was to be found thriving on one parent stem. Viewed apart, each was a rose, fair and fragrant: collectively, they formed an object of surpassing splendour; radiant with beauty, and breathing an atmosphere of perfume. Beneath the profusion of clustering leaves and shining flowers, the stem that sup ported them was unseen; but well I knew "I can no otherwise present an example that, apart from that stem, not one of them to others than as Christ dwelling in me could continue to exist. They had been enables me, however feebly and imperculled from different families, severed fectly, to reflect and to exhibit his image from their natural stock, and made par- to men; but to the promise of that intakers together in that from which, and dwelling grace is annexed a command to from each other, they were before aliens: come out and be separate from what you but to remove them again—to regraft the desire me to mix myself up with. The expanded flower into the stem whence the very act of compliance would darken the bud had first been extracted, was an utter light within; how then could I shine in impossibility: they must remain or perish. company where Christ can have no Who could contemplate this, and not place?" It was objected that the Lord, remember the Rose of Sharon? who when on earth, went among sinners, and could pursue the contemplation without even ate with them. "True," he replied, feeling anew the importance of that union" and if I am allowed at the dinner table by which we, wild and thorny flowers in our original state, are made partakers of his root and fatness, preserved in life, and nourished unto growth, not to our praise and glory, but to his own. I fancied the brambles and wild briars on a neighbouring common calling to one of these bright roses, "Come, and dwell among us, for a while! impart to us of your sap and fragrance; and it may be that we also shall learn to bloom even as you." The reply must have been, "Not so: of myself I have nothing to impart: I live but while I grow upon this stem, and the uttermost that I can do for you is to bear testimony, that if like me, you become a partaker in its vitality, you shall bloom as I do. We cannot come to you; come you to us." Now this is just what I want continually to apply to myself; and I have met with examples no less lovely, no less eloquent, among God's children than among the flowers that he has given us, to teach while they adorn our path. One I will single, who, for brightness and attractiveness might vie with the richest damask rose upon the tree, whose nearest connections and most endeared associates were still moving in the sphere of worldliness; and whose professional advancement almost depended upon his making some concession to their demands; but the Lord gave him so to feel his dependance on, and his union with Christ that he was proof against the united pleadings of interest and personal attachment: he kept himself unspotted from the world. When solicited to mix in general society, under the plea that his example would produce a salutary effect, his reply was much in the strain that I have fancied the Rose would adopt. to speak of the lost sheep, of the pieces of silver, and the prodigal son, I shall consider myself as doing my Master's work. But unless you can show that I am called to such scenes in order to utter such a testimony, I must decline appearing there." On one occasion I knew this text adduced, in support of a pressing invitation to dine where the pleasures of the table were much pursued, "A bishop should be a lover of hospitality." The answer was, that he was no bishop; but that if his friend would come and take a seat at his ́ table, he hoped to be found not deficient in the duty of hospitality, though he could promise him neither a feast nor a party. Another pleader, inviting him to a messtable, assailed him with Paul's exhortation to Timothy, "Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake and because of thine often infirmities." He could not forbear laughing when he read the note; and answered in a strain of lively good humour, that to a little wine he never made any objection, though he was thankful to say his bodily infirmities were not such as to require a particular regimen. As to the quantity of wine, however, and the circumstances under which it should be taken, he doubted whether his friend's view would find a sanction in any of St. Paul's writings. In both these cases a snare was laid to entangle him in serious and fearful inconsistencies; but they were defeated by his watchful avoidance of the beginnings of sin. Thus did L. answer fools according to their folly; but the path became more difficult when those who really wished him well spoke the convictions of their own minds respecting his supposed duty. To |