spurring his horse up beside Lord Grey, he entered into a long and whispered conference, during which many were the glances, although very different in expression, directed by both towards Lord Thomas Fitzgerald; who, now endeavouring to shake off his last earthly feeling, gave his whole and undivided attention to the reverend priest, who stood beside him ready to administer the last consolations of religion-nor did he deem it too worldly or intrusive a thought, to breathe one sigh of regret, for the, to him, unaccountable absence at that solemn moment, of his first, his carliest, and truest friend, the Primate."

The remonstrance of Sir William Brereton had no effect with the Lord Deputy. The former reins up his horse beside Sir Edmund Butler, who, in a low voice, informs the Englishman how matters stand.

"The speech of Sir Edmund was interrupted by a tremendous shout from the assembled multitude-not now, however, as before, in the tumultuous but sorrowful greeting to the victim, for whose release they believed no human effort could avail; now, it was with triumphant cries and deafening clamour, that they hailed the approach of the Primate, who, raised on the shoulders of his atfendants, was borne forward with rapid steps-whilst their delighted cries, of a Reprieve, a pardon,' were repeated from man to man, until it rung from the united voices like thunder in the ears of the Deputy.

"With a faint cry, Elinor, repeating the word, sprang from the arms of her ladies in waiting, and rushed wildly towards Cromar. The soldiers involuntarily drew back, and opened a way for the unhappy lady to pass; one glance at this sudden and strange movement, told to Lord Grey her object and her aim, of which she was in fact herself unconscious. Drawing forth a white handkerchief, he waved it in the air, at the same moment in which the frantic Elinor reached the Primate, from whose trembling hands she caught the important paper, and, holding it aloft, flew, with fawn-like speed, amidst the joyous shouts of the multitude, crying, 'A pardon, a pardon.' She was too late. As she arrived at the fatal spot, the executioner, who had instantly acted upon the concerted signal given by the Lord Deputy, held up, by the dark and glossy ringlets, the bleeding and still beautiful head; proclaiming aloud, This is the head of a traitor.'

"Then there was seen, in the remote distance, a man on horseback approaching, with such desperate speed, as if he likewise had come on the same vain errand. The now silent crowd opened gradually, and suffered him to pass through; as he neared the English soldiers they also fell back, but in wild terror and confusion, on the sight of the never-to-be-forgotten horse on which he was mounted; it was the same that very same coal black, fiend-like steed, which they had left to perish in the morass into which he had plunged both himself and Lord Grey. He was not to be mistaken; his vast size, the fiery eye, the open scarlet nostril, from which his breath ascended in clouds of vapours-and, above all, his more than mortal speed—it was, it could be no other, than the terrible Brien.*

"The rider was a slight, delicate-looking, fair-haired boy; from his appearance totally inadequate to control this fierce animal, which, indeed, he scarcely seemed to hold; riding, with more of reckless indifference to the horse's movements, than with skill. His course was direct for the scaffold, and none stayed to impede his progress; all fled in terror at the apparition of the sorcerer steed; even the executioner dropt the bleeding head, which he had, a moment before, displayed with savage triumph, and hastily retreated like the rest.

"Arrived at the foot of the scaffold, the youthful horseman, checking his rapid course, gazed for an instant on the terrible spectacle before him; lifting up the fair head, he pressed his lips sadly to the palid brow, then, suddenly stooping, flung his arms around the body, laying it across the horse's neck. Without taking up the reins, his whole attention seeming absorbed in the mournful prize, of which he had thus so strangely possessed himself, he struck his spurs into the flanks of his wild steed, and departed with the same furious speed with which he had arrived; vanishing from the eyes of the astonished spectators, ere any had summoned courage to advance and interrupt him."

Brien Boru, the heroic steed of the murdered chieftain, which shares his perils and glory in war and in deeds of humanity, in the course of the tale.

To those of our readers who have taken any interest in the fortunes of the aged Countess of Desmond whom we encounter at the opening of the tale, one backward glance is necessary. It was noticed that the wounded and enfeebled chief fell by the hand of the ruffian O'Kelly, "The Earl turned his dying eyes upon his murderer, who cried out,— 'Hould that look still, my Lord of Desmond, 'twill become yer face mightily when it is sticking upon the top o' Temple Bar in the city of London.' And as he spoke

*

*

*

One long wild cry broke from the lips of the Countess! A cry, so dreadful and appalling, that years after, when on his dying bed, the until then relentless O'Kelly heard it with terrible agonies."

"That shriek which he had been destined never to forget! In vain he entreated to be moved from room to room-from house to house; that sound still pursued him, and rung in his ears like a fearful warning, to awaken his guilty conscience!

"That cry, the only sound which the Countess had uttered since the appearance of O'Kelly, was also the last evidence of sense or feeling breathed by her for many years.

Disjointed and mutilated as are the extracts we have given from the Siege of Maynooth, they must have enabled the reader to form some idea of the character of this romance. If we have succeeded in imparting any feeling of the admiration with which it has inspired us, we shall be gratified at having performed an act of simple justice, in drawing attention to the talents of a writer whose name we never heard and never may hear. Nor shall we deny that "it is the cause" which inspires us with a strong predisposition in his favour; not that there is either vehemence or exaggeration in the nationality of the spirit which pervades the work, and the spirit is more Irish than the style. The dialogues among the subordinate personages have little of the breadth or raciness of Irish humour; their dialect is meagre, and somewhat bald and modern for the age in which they are supposed to live and act. There are, moreover, few traits of ancient manners, and some of the principal characters are rather romantic and historical personages, than natural and individualized human characters. But with, or in spite of, all these drawbacks, this romance, by the spirit of its action, the variety of incident, the brilliance and contrast of its rapidly shifting lights and shadows, and, above all, by the lively and growing interest which the narrative keeps awake in the mind from first to last, is fully entitled to all the praise we have bestowed upon it. Even now that Scott, Godwin, and Maturin have ceased to write, there may be historical romances of higher pretension, but none which the reader will not be able more readily to lay aside till a more convenient season. The Siege of Maynooth

is a tale to begin with at the beginning, and read straight-forward to the end.

2 K 2

THE WORKING OF THE BILL-PUBLIC EXPENDITURE.*

THE most hopeful circumstance of our political condition, is the firmness with which the People look their worst evils in the face, and the earnest and thorough-going way in which, through a body of efficient representatives, they are about to enter on the task of a root-and-branch Reform. There are persons interested in the preservation of every existing abuse, who, after offering all the opposition in their power to that first great step, Parliamentary Reform, were besotted enough to imagine that the People were to rest satisfied with the naked Bill, the print and paper, as a wrestler does with the trophy stuck in his bonnet; or that it was to be regarded as a charm or amulet, which, without farther effort, might be hung round our necks and work by magic; and which, without obtaining a single tangible benefit, was, in some occult way, to make us all prosperous and contented. These sages are disappointed, and those of them who were graciously willing to concede something, are not a little indig nant that the ungrateful monster the mob, having extorted its plaything, is not now satisfied and thankful. They are enraged to find that if there be one principle more distinctly recognised, and clung to by the nation than another, it is that the Reform in the representation, wrested from the oligarchy at the knife's point, is but the means to an end. Without this principle kept steadily in view, the Reform Bill were of as much worth as so much waste paper, sent up to the moon at the tail of a paper kite, to inform the lunar population what simpletons the men of Great Britain are. But we have, thank Heaven and our own endeavours, the instrument of political regeneration at last securely in our grasp; and the immediate consideration is, where we may first and best apply the new power gained, how much may be undertaken at once, and where it is wisest to commence operations, and with most advantage enter the wedge. The Spectator's Key to Political Knowledge appears in good time ; and is an intelligent and trustworthy guide. It begins at the foundation. No. I. is spent in clearing the floor of the House of Commons for freedom of future operations. The clumsy, tardy, unwieldy working of the House, as it is at present constituted, is thoroughly exposed, and the necessity insisted upon, of simplifying, and regulating its movements, and getting it into immediate working trim. But we shall here employ the words of the Key.

"The people are entitled to hope great things from this change. They are entitled to hope that a House of Commons, consisting of the men of their choice, will labour zealously, ably, and efficiently, for the public interest. If they are disappointed in the extent of the improvement, there had almost better have been no Reform at all. If the business of Parliament is conducted only a little better than it is at present-if profusion is only a little checked-if legislation is only a little more enlightened— if only a little more activity, and a little more deliberate attention, are bestowed upon the complicated interests of this vast empire-the disappointment will be deep, and the indignation bitter. The people will either be incited to tear in pieces a constitution which does them so little good, after all the mending bestowed upon it, or will sink into indifference; and, not caring how they exercise a franchise so useless to them, will allow every abuse of the old system again to take root and flourish as rank as ever."

Spectator's Key to Political Knowledge. Clayton, Strand.

It thus becomes the question how the Representatives of the people, are, with most effect and despatch, to perform functions which have become somewhat different from the old, lounging, idling, speechifying, mistifying, and huddling up the scene by voting enormous supplies, or unjust imposts, and passing unwise or ignorant enactments, of which two-thirds of their whole number thought not at all, and for which the remaining part cared nothing. The House of Commons is a range too wide for our space. We recommend the Spectator's exposé both to electors, and to those who aspire to become representatives of the people. It is drawn up with great expense of labour; and it goes to the root, and traces all the ramifications of the evil. Nor can we doubt that, under this and other ministrations, by next February, the GREAT FREE AND EASY will, both in external decency of manners, and business-like habits, shew a very different face from what it exhibited "while only Gentlemen got into the House."

The Spectator's second number of the Key, is devoted to the PUBLIC EXPENDITURE-more correctly the Public Wastefulness. The same ground has been often travelled over, but the whole bearings of the case have never been exhibited in so compact a form as in this pamphlet. It also contains analyzed statements of the public accounts; that is as far as the national accounts are made public, or as it is possible for the most clear-headed adept in figures to comprehend what no human being actually does or can understand, and, least of all, those whose business, as guardians of the public purse, it is to check the Expenditure. The Black Book, Cobbett and other journalists, and, coming closer home to us than all, the painful experience of diminishing capital among the middle classes, and pinching poverty among the lower, have already made the nation tolerably well aware of the thousand concealed and corrupt channels into which its wealth has been, and is drained. This Magazine, during its short career, has not neglected the duty of calling attention to the enormity of the Public Expenditure; and every one, save those who either fatten on the public, or have a prospective interest in maintaining "things as they are," is prepared for an instant searching into these abuses, and a rigorous cutting down, or extirpation in every branch of the Expense of Government. "This principle," says the Key," it is quite plain, must be rigorously acted upon, at a time when, even after the public expenditure is pared down to the greatest practicable extent, the people will still be burdened beyond what they can bear without much suffering." But the principle is one which ought to be acted upon at all times. "Ce n'est point," says Montesquieu, "à ce que le peuple peut donner qu'il faut mesurer les revenus publics, mais à ce quit doit donner." Our legislators have always adopted the peut as their standard of exaction. The apparent reluctance of the present administration to consider any question of " paltry" economy which circumstances have thrust upon them, is another motive to the vigilance of the people, in searching out the causes of profuse public expenditure. This reluctance has been carried to a length which has shaken them more in public confidence than all their other questionable measures put together. "Oh, these shabby sums ! mere candleends and cheese-parings !-unworthy the attention of a great nation." That salary (of the useless Governor of some more useless fortress) is so mere a trifle! The emoluments of such another sinecure office is so com pletely an old song-only a few hundreds-those diplomatie pensions, only a few thousands ;" and this spreads, till the hundreds become thousands, and the thousands tens of thousands, with a government all the

while affecting to study retrenchment. In the words of the Key, "it is often foolishly argued against any particular reductions of expendi.. ture, that they are of no consequence, for that their benefit, when di vided among the whole population, becomes imperceptible. Why so much anxiety to cut off L.150,000 from the expenditure? When divided among sixteen or twenty-four millions, it only amounts to two-pence, or three half-pence a-head." But those arguers forget, or would have us to forget, that by lopping off L.150,000 from the expenditure, some entire tax, that presses unduly on some particular class, or seriously injures some branch of industry, could be removed. Two-pence a-head on the population of Great Britain, is equal to the whole amount of the hopduty; or take Britain and Ireland, one penny three farthings would give the commercial classes the benefit of advertisements duty-free. Fourpence halfpenny a-head would extinguish the odious newspaper tax." These are facts which it is the duty of journalists to keep constantly before the people, and with which to stop the mouths of those who sneer at " shabby savings," and "small abolitions" of useless salaries, pensions, and fees, and retired allowances, to men who never did their country one iota of service, and much more probably did it all the injury, an active instrument, or truckling tool of misrule, could accomplish. The only question of revenue and expenditure, in which there exists any difference of opinion among Reformers, is the Debt. But this very difference should unite them, on the principle that retrenchment of the expenditure is become a paramount object. Those who would hold absolute faith with the national creditors, must save all that is possible out of the three-sevenths, if they would fully discharge what in interest consumes the other four-sevenths of the entire revenue. Those who contend for equitable adjustment are equally bound to economy, that even the dividend, they allow to be just, may be forthcoming; while, with one accord, all demand such retrenchment as may, so far as it is practicable, relieve the people of the most galling of their burdens, and set free the springs of industry.

The question next arises, in what departments may economy of expenditure be most readily or beneficially effected, holding sacred, meanwhile, the claims of the public creditor, or what all the people owe to a great part of the people. The expenditure of the year is calculated at above fifty millions, of which nearly twenty-nine is interest of the Debt, in one form or other. The other part, or above twenty-one millions, is under the control of Parliament-of the House of Commons as the Guardians of the Public Purse. We shall select but a few items of this immense sum for animadversion. There is first the Civil List, somewhat reduced, but still amounting to £435,000, granted to their Majesties. With that we shall not interfere. There is next, in pensions to the Royal Family, married and unmarried, legitimate and illegitimate, £218,822, of which the Duke of Cumberland receives £17,250, and his son Prince George £6000. The military pensions may come next; and of these we have £37,389, of which the Duke of Wellington receives £8,889. But this is nothing in amount, though a great deal in reality, to the whole of the military dead weight, that is, the non-effective, i. e. the useless military expenditure, which amounts to £2,669,697. We have again the naval dead-weight, which gives us in return two pensioned or paid admirals, and four surgeons, for every ship, and costs us £1,229,381. Next we have the civil dead-weight;-sums paid to retired or superannuated officers of customs, stamps, &c., &c., &c., often useless when in nominal employment, always overpaid, and retiring