o Che Examiner. A WEEKLY JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE AND NEWS. EDWARD WHELAN] | Vou. V- aap Literature, UNDER THE MOON. Under the moon as the twilight breeze Ripples the water in pulses of light, We stand on the bridge by the sycamore trees And list to the voice that comes through the night. Under the elm-row misty and dark, Love's sweet laughter rings from the bark— sprinkled with many a dim red lamp, Stretching away through the distance damp, Hark ' ‘mid the foliage blossomed with June, Tinkles a serenade under the moon. ‘ Under the moon in the village street, Gossiping crowds in the shadow meet. Seated at dusky doorways there, Red-lipped maidens taste the air ; Whispering now of their lovers’ eyes ; Blue as the beautiful summer skies : Whispering now of their flattering sweet, As summer fruitage dropped in the heat ; Until they cadence a trembling tune— Soft as their pulses under the moon. Under the moon, by the soft sea shore, ‘The wind walks over its precious floor, Courting the snow bosomed sails, Daintily dipping through azure vales, Over the erisp foam bearing along The musing mariner’s midnight song ; \s by the rising helm with bands Lit in the compass lamp he stands, Thinking those he left at noon, Away he is bearmg under the moon Under the moon by the dusky road, Pace we on to the old abode ; The listless splendor floating falls Oer its sycamored roof and wails. Peering into the casement nook, ° Piled with many a brown old book : Spirits are they whose pages teem With thoughtful ditty and pictured dream , Spirits amid whose silence soon ee | not make half-a-crown in the year. Chis is true Liberty, when Free-born Men, having to advise the Public, man speak free.——EvRres. prized in the conversation of Edmund Burke. I may just add, that his manner, whether the subject was grave or otherwise, was somewhat higher than the ordinary tone of familiar con- | versation, but no one ever wished that he could change it. | With him it was unaffected, and well assorted with the natural dignity of his mind and person. It was only upon one or two eecasions while I was with him, that his subject led him to assume for a moment that more stately manner which distin- guished and adorned his public efforts.” — of the fragmentary recollections and anecdotes we subjoin :~— ** The Chief Justice spoke a good deal of the Bar. He said the profession had materially improved in respectability within his recollection. When he first came to it, a class of persons, without legal qualifications, had pushed themselves into busi- ness by the mere force of vulgar, bustling activity, which would not be tolerated at present. ‘ Three persons, I consider, to have greatly contributed to preduce the change. Curran (who had ignited the Bar), Plunket and Saurin. The last brought legal knowledge into repute. Egan, were he now at the bar, would The change may also be, in some degree, attributed to the Union. Since the Union, a better class of men have been raised to the Bench, and able judges will always compel the Bar to be good lawyers.’ * * ‘*'The Union has done some good. It has purified’the ad- ministration of justice by leading to the appointment of a better class of judges, and by putting them more under the control of the English Press. He frequently recurred to the influence of public opinion as expressed through the press, and called it * that useful rod, suspended over the heads of men in autho- rity.’ ** He spoke with disgust of the pedantic obscurity of the old law-writers. +I was working this morning at a judgment of Lord Coke’s, reported in Bulstrode. It took me two hours to distover its meaning. I would rather have sat down to as much Greek. All the difficulty arose from the absurd mystery of the style. The moment I caught the reasoning, I, without any trouble, condensed the whole into six or eight lines. The great object of the early law-writers seems to have been, to be as incomprehensible as possible. Sir William Blackstone was the first great refomer in this respect. He simplified the study of law, as Bacon did that of Natural Philosophy.’ ‘* | cannot bear to hear barristers calling one another their learned friend. Why not say, the argument of Mr. Wallace, or Mr. Gilmore, or whatever the name maybe? * * © ** August 10th. He asked me if Sheil had ever written any poetry besides his tragedies, and upon my answering that he Our own shall slunf¥er under the moon. —Publin Nation, IRENE. Have you not seen our idol echild— Our beautiful Irene ? She hath an eve so blue and mild— A cheek’on which the rose hath smiled— A brow by care nor grief defiled, But smvoth and white serene ? Her tiny ringlets, golden hair, In loved profusion curl, They cluster o’er a forehead fair, And alabaster shoulders bare, Such as with lilies would compare, Or vie with snow-white pearl ! And have you never heard her try To speak her childish will, No ear to her could need deny, For she would prattle constantly— Till you with her requests comply, Her tongue cannot be still! Could you reprove her and look stern, When she climbs on your knee, And fail te kiss her in return, When she would for your embrace yearn, With angél’s voice, and eyes which burn With Love's own light for thee ! Were it not for the fount of Joy Our lives were a drear scene, What would our lonely hours employ— What would our thoughts of earth destroy— Were we not blest without alloy With our beloved Irene? *--o-+ (From the London Literary Gazette.) O'CONNELL AND HIS COTEMPORARIES. Stetches of the Irish Bar; with Essays, Literary and Politi- cal. By William Henry Curran, Esquire. Hurst and Biackett. These Sketches and Essays by Mr. Curran form a companion work to the recently republished * Legal and Political Sketches by the late Mr. Sheil.’ The two writers were associated in the produetion of the series of papers, as they originally ap- | Jeared ia the * New Monthly Magazine,’ when under the editor- ship of Thomas Campbell. "Although the names of Curran and Sheil were mentioned conjointly as authors of the ‘ Sketches vf the Irish Bar,’ with which the series of contributions com- menced, each separate article was the sole production of the Particular writer to whom it is now assigned in this authorized reprint. It is necessary to mention this, as an American edition of the Sketches has mixed up the papers and confound- | |in poetry and eloquence that I ever met. | producing an effectuupon a popular audience in Ireland, I con- ) sider him as standing in the very first rank. had not, expressed his regret. ‘ His mind is one of the richest For the purpose of In England it might be considered (though perhaps unjustly), that he at- tempted to impose upon his hearers by ornament. He seems to me to have high powers for didactic poetry. The rich poe- tical invectives with which his speeches abound, if versified, would be fine satirical poetry. * * * **Crattan was near failing in the English House of Commons. The strangeness of his gestures, intonations and style, were prejudicing the house againt him, and beginning to produce signs of impatience, when he called Dr. Duigenan the ‘gentleman of the fifteenth century.’ The phrase took, and the remainder of his speech was loudly sbanesl eee ‘Grattan was utterly incapable of writing ‘the simplest thing with rapidity. Upon one oceasion he lost an important motion in the Lrish House of Commons, by his defect in this respect. The house being with him, the Speaker asked him to commit his motion to writing. Five lines would have em- | braced it, but Grattan wrote and tore, and wrote and tore, till the House, losing its patience, a ministerial member proposed, that instead of a formal resolution of the house, the minister should give a verbal pledge, to which Grattan assented, and thus his motion was lost. * * * ** Grattan was firmly persuaded, from the internal evidence of the style, that Burke was the author of ‘ Junius.’ Among other instances, he used to insist upon it that no living man but Burke could have written that passage in one of the letters to the Duke of Grafton. ‘You have now fairly travelled through every sign in the political zodiac, from the Scorpion, in which you stung Lord Chatham, to the hopes of a Virgin in the house of Bloomsbury.’ ** My last scene with Grattan was interesting beyond expres- sion. It lasted an hour, and I have never ceased to regret that I did not commit. the particulars to paper, as I might easily haye done. The details of that one hour would have filled a volume.”’ In one of these memoranda George IV. appears in a more respectable intellectual light than he usually has eridit for :— ‘* The Chief Justice related to me the particulars of his meet- ing with the King at Sloane Castle. ‘*Saurin and I went down together, and arrived barely in time to dress for dinner. I had never been seen by the King, but once at the levee. On going down stairs I met him coming | UP- The rencontre was most embarrassing, for I imagined that he would not recognise me, but I was at once relieved. ' He said, ‘ Bushe, I believe you don’t know the ways of this house,’ and taking me under the arm, conducted me to the drawing-room. In one momert I was as much at my ease as if I had been his daily companion. ** T sat opposite to him at dinner. The first words he address- ed to me were these (Lady Conyngham, who sat next him, had been whispering something in his ear,)—‘ Bushe, you never would guess what Lady Conyngham has been saying to me. She has been repeating a passage from one of your speeches against the Union.’ He saw that I started, and was rather at a loss for what to say, and instantly a the subject b recommending me to try a particular French dish, from whic ed the authorship. A number of miscellaneous essays, entitled | he had. been just — . * This (said he) I can recommend as ery. Literary and Politieal, accompany Curran’s legal and biogra- yhieal sketches, and occupy a large portion of the second volume. Prefixed to the first volume is a new contribution, a notice of the late Chief Baron Woulfe, a biographical memoir of a more elaborate character than the magazine articles which it introduces. Woulfe’s public life was one of little incident, and it is chiefly the partiality of private friendship that has given such prominence to the present memoir. An account of his pamphlet on the catholic question, which had much in- liuenee in itsday, oecupies a considerable part of Mr. Curran’s narrative. The-professional career of Stephen W oulfe was one of smooth prosperity, and his estimable character is expressed in his hiographer’s assurance that Stephen Woulfe never had anenemy.’’ Appended to the memoir of Chief Baron Woulfe Bare Notes of Conversations with Chief Justice Bushe, with BS. ws ponding remarks, in which occurs the following personal B ‘Ketel, :-— “In thus giving publicity to these fragments of Charles K. Dushe’s familiar conversation, I should be doing a grievous in- ; Justice to the memory of that accomplished man, if I were to ;‘ntimate that, in themselves, they can convey any but the faintest idea of what the conversation was. ‘hey may lead his sury iving intimates to recognize him, but they never can enable a stranger to him to know him. Even if I could offer a literal transeript of every word that fell from him, how much would still be Wanting? His imposing figure and deportment, ais frocefal. persuasive tures, his manly, pliant features, so easily seduced from their habitual di ity by a love of: gentle- manly fun, his fine, sonorous voice, his genial lavghter ; such oo some, though not all, of the i ients in that combina- at which made Bushe the most faseinating of companions. It was in the profusion of materials, and in the power the perfection of coo My cousin, the Duke of Gloucester, often produces it for his guests, but always fails init. It is the same with all his dishes. He has a remarkable talent for giving bad dinners.’ ‘*The king soon after returned to the Union. ‘My early opinion was (said he, addressing Saurin,) that you and the Solicitor-General’s opposition to the measure was well founded, and since I haye seen this glorious people, and the effects pro- duced by it, that opinion is confirmed ; but (he added, as if correcting himself) I am sure you will agree with me in con- sidering that, now the measure is carried, you would feel it your duty to resist any attempt to repeal it with as much zeal as you originally — it. But you all committed a great mistake. Instead o terms, as the Scotch did, and you could have got good terms.’ He then summed up some of the principal stipulations of the Scotch Union, (he had history at his fingers’ ends.) Saurin said, (a very odd remark, as it struck me, to come from him), ‘and the Scotch further stipulated for the establishment of their national religion.’ ‘ You are quite right,’ said the king ; ‘ they secured that point also—but, no, no,’ he added hastily checking himself, ‘ you must pay no attention to what I have just said. It would not be right to have it perenne that I entertain an opinion, from which an inference might be drawn that would afterwards lead to disappointment.’ _ ‘‘In the evening despatches arrived from England, contain- ing an account of the tumultuous ings at the Queen’s funeral. The king expressed, without the slightest reserve, his dissatisfaction at the want of energy shown by the govern- ment on the occasion, and contrasted with it the firmness of his father during the riotsof 1780. He detailed the iculars of the late king’s conduct upon that oceasion, who, he said, - fouring them out for hours without cessation or fatigue, that Onn itt Justice appeared to me to be so peculiar, and in his, ; it and country, unrivalled. Jt was that eres m of mind,’ euch as Johnson had found, and 60 mu | neo sent for him to be a witness of it, for the regulation of his own conduct upon any similar emergency. He conelud- ed by suddenly saying, in an altered and broken yoice, ‘ I shall neyer again eee such @ man as my father.’ direct opposition, you should have made CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MONDAY, OCTOBER 8, 1855. RDA EL. ‘The king spoke of the run of look that he had lately had —‘ his getting round the Land’s End just a few minutes before the wind changed, and his consequent arrival at Holyhead two days before the other vessel—his landing in Ireland on his hirth-day, which had been the wish of his heart—and finally, his glorious reception of the Irish people.’ Among the lucky incidents he suppressed the news of the Queen’s death. “The king’s accent had the slightest intermixture of the foreign. ‘* He has been known to say, ‘I wish those Catholics were damned or emancipated.’ The description of the Hall of the Four Courts, at Dublin, is a capital sketch ; ** The buildingitself is a splendid one. Like the other pub- lic edifiees of Dublin (and I might add, the private ones) it is an effort of Irish pride, exceeding far in magnificence the sub- stantial wealth and civilization of the country. In the centre of the interior, and o’ercanopied by a lofty dome, is a spacious cireular hall, into which the several courts of justice open. I was fond of lounging in this place. From the hours of twelve to three it isa busy and a motly scene. When I speak of it as the place of daily resort for the members of the legal pro- fession and their clients, I may be understood to mean that it is the general rendezvous of the whole community ; for in Ire- land almost every man of any pretensions that you meet, is either a plaintiff or defendant, or on the point of becoming so, and when in the capital, seldom fails to repair at least once a day to ‘ the Hall,’ in order to look after his cause, and by con- ferences with his lawyers, to keep up his mind to the true litigating temperature, ‘* Tt is here, too, that the political idlers of the town resort, to drop or pick up the rumours of the day. There is also a lentiful admixture of the lower orders, among whom it is not ificult to distinguish the country-litigant. You know him by his mantle of frieze, his two boots and one spur, by the tattered lease, fit emblem of his tenement. which he unfolds, for his attorney’s inspection, as cautiously as Sir Humphrey Davy would a manuscript of Herculaneum, and best of all, by his rueful visage, in which you can clearly read that some clause in the last ejectment-act lies heavy on his heart. These form the principal materials of the scene ; but it is not so easy to enumerate the manifold and ever-shifting combinations into which they are diversified. The rapid succession of so many objects, passing and repassing eternally before you, perplexes and quickly fatigues the eye. It fares still worse with the ear. The din is tremendous. Besides the tumult of some hundred voices in ardent discussion, and the most of them raised to the declamatory pitch, you have ever and anon the stentorian eries of the tipstatls bawling out: ‘The gentlemen of the Special Jury to the box,’ or the still more thrilling vociferations of attornies, or attornies’ clerks, hallooing to a particular counsel, that ‘ their case is called on, and all is lost if he delays an instant,’ whereupon the counsel, catching up the sound of his name, wafted through the hubbub, breaks precipitately from the circle that engages him, and bustles through the throng, escorted, if he be of any eminence, by a posse of appli- cants, each chimingeto monopolise him, until he reaches the entrance of the court, and plunging in, escapes for that time from their importunate solicitations. ‘* The bustle among the members of the Bar is greatly in- creased by thescircumstance of all of them, with very few ex- ceptions, practising in all the courts. Hence at every moment you see the most eminent darting across the hall, flushed and palpitating from the recent conflict, and no breathing-time allowed them, adyancing with rapid strides and looks of fierce intent, to fling themselves again into the thick efanother fray. It daily happens that two cases, to be heard in different courts, and in which the same barrister is the client's main support, are called on at the same hour. On such"oceasions it is amusing to witness the contest between the respective attornies to secure their champion, Mr. O’Connell, for instance, who is high in every branch of his profession, and peculiarly in request for what is termed ‘ battling a motion,’ is perpetually to be seen, a conspicuous figure in this scene of clamour and commotion, balancing between two equally pressing ealls upon him, and deploring bis want of ubiquity. ‘The first time he was pointed out to me, he was in one of these predicaments, suspended, like Garrick in the picture, between conflicting solicitations. On the one side, an able-bodied, boisterous Catholic attorney, from the county of Kerry, had laid his athletic gripe upon ‘ the counsellor,’ and swearing by some favourite saint, was fairly hauling him along in the direction of the Exchequer — on the other side a more polished town-practitioner, of the established faith, pointed with pathetic look and gesture to the Common Pleas, and in tones of agony implored the learned gentleman to remember ‘ that their case was actually on, and that if he were not at his post, the Court would grant the motion, costs and all, against their client.’ ’’ From the personal recollections and sketches of the Irish bar we have space for only one extract, about Daniel O’Connell as he appeared at the bar in 1825 :— ** Mr. O'Connell is in particular request in jury cases. There he is‘in his element. Nextto the ‘ harp of his country,’ an Irish Jury is the instrument on which he delights to play ; and no one better understands its quality and compass. I haye already glanced at his versatility. It is here that it is displayed. His powers as a nisi-prius advocate consist not so much in the perfection of any of the qualities necessary to the art of persuasion, as in the number of them that he has at command, and the skill with which he selects and adapts them to the exigency of each particular case. Ile has a thorough knowledge of human nature, as it prevails in the class of men whom he has to mould to his purposes. I know of no one that exhibits a more quick and accurate perception of the essential peculiarities of the Irish character. It is not merely with re- ference to their passions that he understands them, though here he is pre-eminently adroit. He can cajole a dozen of miserable corporation-hacks into the persuasion that the honor of their country is concentred in thir persuns. His mere acting on such occasions isadmirable : no matter how base and stupid, and how poisoned by political antipathy to himself he may believe them to be, he affects the most complimentary igno- rance of their real characters. He hides hisscorn and contempt under a look of unbounded reliance. He addresses them with all the deference due to upright and high-minded jurors. He talks to them of ‘ the eyes of all Europe,’ and the present gratitude of Ireland, and the residuary blessings of posterity, with the most perfidious command of countenance. In short, by dint of ummerited commendations, he belabours them into the belief that, after all, they have some reputation to sustain, and sets them chuckling with anticipated exultation, at the honours with which a verdict according to the evidence is to consecrate their nams.”’ Of the other legal sketches that of Plunket is the best. Among the tales of the Irish cricuit one paper gives an account of a remarkable trial for murder on the river Shannon, which was taken as the foundation of Mr. Gerald Griffin’s successful novel, ‘ The Collegians.’ The contents of the second volume are of a very miscellaneous kind, and some of the papers are on subjects which have lost none of their interest in our own day, such es on the Complaints in America against the Eng- lish Press, on German Criticism, and The Napoleon Memoirs from St. Helena. In his remarks on the feelings of America towards England, Mr. Curran, with all his Irish enthusiasm, writes with a léyalty and patriotism that ought to put to shame the O’Briens and Duffys of the ‘ Young Ireland’ school. Al- though written more than thirty veers ago, this paper deserves wide circulation both in Great Britain and America, as an ad- mirable statement of the real relztions of the two countries, full of sound truth and genuine humour, and equal to the best of the many sketches that have appeared on American character and feeling with regard to the mother country. eine [EDITOR axp PUBLISHER 0 EN ET” No. 13. a Gleanings from late Papers. SORT RR ER ROR OR OR OR ON OD oe wr ween eee casei NEWS FROM THE CAMP. The following intelligence is of course old compared with the despatches of the capture of Sebastopol ; but the details ofsome of the small struggles which preceded the opening of the final bombardment, are not without interest : — TERRIFIC EXPLOSION IN THE MAMELON. A few days before the assault on the Malakhoff, the ex- plosion of a French magazine occurred near the Mamelon, by a Russian shell. The whole of the camp was shaken by a prodigious explosion, which produced the effects: of an earthquake. A tumbrel, from which the French were dis- charging powder into one of the magazines, was struck by a shell from the Russian batteries, which burst as it crashed through the roof of the carriage, and ignited the cartridges within ; the flames caught the powder in the magazine, and with a hideous roar, 14,000 Ibs. weight of gunpowder rushed forth in a volcano of fire to the skies, shattering to atoms the magazine, the tumbrels, and all the surrounding works, and whirling from its centre in all directions over the face of the Mamelon, and beyond it, 150 officers and men. Of these 40 were killed on the spot, and the rest are scorched and burnt, or struck by splinters, stones, and by the fiery eruption. Masses of earth, gabions, stones, fragments of carriages, and heavy shot, were hurled far into our works on the left of the French, and wounded severai of our men. The light of the explosion was not great, but the roar and shock of the earth were very considerable. The heaviest sleepers awoke, and rushed out of their tents. There was silence for an instant, and but for an instant, as the sullen thunder rolled slowly away, and echoed along the heights of Inkermann and Mackenzie; then the Russians, leaping to their guns, cheered loudly, but their voices were soon smo- thered in the erash of the French and English batteries, which opened all along the right of the attack, and played fiercely oa their works. The Russians replied to our fire, but they were unable to take any advantage of our mis- chance, owing to the firmness of the French in the advaneed trenches, and the steadiness of the cannonade. A bright moon Kghted up the whole scene, and shed its rays upon a huge pillar of smoke and dust, which rose into the air from the Mamelon, and which, towering to an immense height, un- folded itself, and let fall from its clustering waves of smoke and sulphurous vapours a black precipitate of earth, fine dust, and pebbles, mingled with miserable fragments, which fell like rain over the works below. The dark cloud hung like a pall for nearly an hour over the place, reddening every mo- ment with the reflection of the flashes of the artillery, which boomed incessantly till dawn. Four officers lost their lives by this deplorable accident. A MOMENTARY TRIUMPH OF THE RUSSIANS IN THE ENGLISH TRENCHES. On the morning of the 31st ult., while a party of the 23d Welsh Fusiliers were engaged working in our filth parallel of the right attack, a body of Russian infantry crept up close upon them, and leaped into the trench almost ere their approach was perceived. The trench guard made a feeble resistance, and the Russians were enabled to occupy a portion of the parallel. They also seized on some tools and arms which the 23d Regiment abandoned. Emboldened by their success, the enemy advanced towards the fourth parallel, which was occupied by the 97th Regiment; but on approach- ing the parapet they were received by deadly and well sus- tained volleys of file firing, which checked their march in- stantaneously, and they retired in confusion, leaving many dead and wounded on the ground, into the portion of the fifth parallel of which they possessed themselves. The 97th, with the aid of the 23d, were ordered to drive the enemy back to their entrenchments, and executed the task with the utmost gallantry and coolness. The Russians, covered by their guns in the rear, fought well, but were driven out at the point of the bayonet with loss. We have to lament the loss of a gallant officer, Lieut. Preston, who was killed by a ball in the act of leadingonhismen. Itisnot long since his brother fell, who held a comission in the 7th Regiment, in the same way, and the deceased officer had but recently arrived from home. Captain Brinkley was also wounded, and Lieut. Ware was shot through the arm. The 97th lost 4 men killed and 12 wounded. REVOLT IN SEBASTOPCL. There had been rumours for some days before the attack in the Malakhoff, that the garrison of Sebastopol was in an ex- tremely disorganised state, and there were even positive state- ments that a revelt took place. A brisk fire of’ musketry, very irregular, was heard inside the town, mingled with cries and disorderly shouting, and a deserter reported the fusillade of an officer of rank and nearly 100 men, who had disobeyed orders. There is no doubt that the losses in the town were frightful, and that, notwithstanding their official and non- official declarations, the Russians suffered from want of water and of spirits. ‘The army on the Belbee and along Macken. zie’s ridge seems to have diminished very much. THEATRICALS IN THE CRIMEA. On the 31st ult. the winter dramatic season of the Naval Brigade was inaugurated by a series of performances, The histrionic artistes, orchestra and stage appointments, all be- longed to ihe ship London, aud the entertainment came off in the ravine along the summit of which the camp of the brigade is pitched. The performances included three pieces well known to the Aabitwes of the Waymarket ; and the blue- jacket actors sustained their odes ina manner which would not have disgraced any of the second-rate employes of that house. The theatre consisted of a large appropriately-shaped and decorated tent, pitched in the bottom of the ravine; and the audience looked on and applauded from their al fresco seats along the ascending slope of the hill. Acting, singing, and dancing were all admirable; and if the boisterous satis- faction expressed by the ringing palms and right vigorous lungs of the hundreds who crowded the hill side can be in any way accepted as proof of excellence, Wright and Buck- stone never surpassed the nautical knights of the buskin, who gave bodily and vocal shape to the fun contained in the three farces of Deaf as a Post, The Silent Woman (not Ben Jon- son’s classical comedy, I need hardly say), and Slasher and Crasher. INSURRECTION AT KADIKOTI. An insurrection on a small seale has occurred amongst the dealers at Kadikoi. These gentry have clustered the dwell- ings and bazaars as closely along the hill-side whichnow goes by this name, as blackberries in spring, aud with the elie erator tap emaneaenactataeenenenmmcmteen tn rere tema ys RACE Pe no Se a pul sa: ae eee 2. wees ger: 8 Then _— OTe See