The maiden watch'd till midnight came, Shoot from their radiant spheres on high. She heard a voice through the stillness creeping, Her head reclined on her Reginald's breast: And she thought of the spirit that loves to dwell JANE OGILVIE-AN IRISH TALE. "She was not made, Through years or moons, the inner weight to bear V. D. TOWARDS the close of a fine day, in the Spring of 1797, a stranger, mounted upon a stout hack, or road-horse, entered a well-sized village in the North of Ireland. He was a middle-aged, and a middle-sized man, dressed not better than, but somewhat differently from, a respectable farmer. His low-crowned and broad-brimmed hat denoted an appearance somewhat clerical, which was not, however, well-supported by the formidable display of two large horse-pistols stuck in a pair of old-fashioned holsters, which rose nearly two feet above his saddle-bow. His great coat, too, was not of frieze, or drab, but dark brown cloth, and as he wore it unbuttoned, a blue spencer-a favourite garment of itinerant preachers, --was visible, covering the upper part of his black coat. His "Church militant" appearance was not at that time extraordinary. The extreme zeal of the Methodist,-or, as they are vulgarly called in Ireland, the "swaddling" Preachers, frequently induced them to travel for miles in a country, remote from friends even in faith; not content with which, they world sometimes erect a cask, or table, and harangue an audience not containing a single Protestant. Thus they were often placed in situations of great personal jeopardy, and the sturdier portion were accustomed to carry fire-arms, of whose actual use, however, whether properly or improperly, I do not recollect an instance. He rode on, scrutinized with no friendly eyes by the inhabitants, to the Inn; or, to speak more truly, the sheebeen-house, where his appearance caused no slight disturbance. The Putyeen-cask was removed to the potato-garden, ready to be buried if necessary, while the bottle of " Parliament," with its accompaniments, was ostentatiously exhibited on the dresser. His first address, however, "Peace be unto this dwelling! can I have some refreshment for myself and horse" set at rest all fears of the Exciseman. A ragged boy took down a sieve, which hung from one of the wooden pins of the rafters, and half filling it with oats from a sack which stood in one of the corners, opened the back-door, always placed for this purpose exactly opposite the front one, and busily commenced the operation of separating the chaff from the corn. When he had sufficiently effected this, he threw it into an old tub, which was stationary at the door, took off the horse's bridle, and returned to his seat in the chimney-corner. In the mean-time oat-cakes, milk, butter, and eggs, flanked by the whiskey-bottle, were set before the stranger, by a well-looking girl, whose clean and neat appearance, and courteous manners, ill-accorded with the situation in which she was met, or the persons by whom she was surrounded. Beside the boy before mentioned, there were also two men lounging on some corn-sacks; and an old decrepit woman seated on a stool at the fire. "This, I believe, my friends" said the stranger, endeavouring to remove the restraint which evidently existed; " is likely to be a favourable season to the husbandman. The fruits of the earth, which the lord sends to his people to satisfy their worldly wants, have been given with a lavish hand, and are likely to ripen to a plentiful maturity."" Yes, for those that have them we have none,-neither fruits nor land," said one of the mer. "You forget, Lawrence, the half-rood of Conacre, and the pratees we set in it last month. They'll be a fine crop yet;" said the other. This was accompanied by a satirical smile, and was answered by an Irish oath, consigning Conacres, and their proprietors, to that place which, on poetical authority, we are unwilling to mention to " ears polite." The stranger found he had stumbled on a subject not likely to promote much harmony of opinion, and changed it by asking the nearest way to the village of L. Both men started up at once; and the eldest, after a moment's pause, accosted him. "May I make bold to ask the nature of your calling, and your business?"-"Yes, Friend, willingly, I am one of those who endeavour to work out their task in life not entirely in earthly vanity. Who would raise up a burning light amid the spiritual darkness of man, and, by sowing the seeds of the Gospel in the hearts of the wicked, strive to bring to man salvation, and to God glory. I am an humble preacher of the Gospel of the Lord."-" We want no preachers at L then, and, if you take my advice, you'll keep out of the mountains at present."-"Although, in prosecution of the duty to which my Master hath enjoined me, I know not worldly fear, yet is my zeal tempered with discretion. My mission, at present, is not a spiritual one. I have private business with one residing in the village; and if, as I may collect from your speech, you reside there, do me the friendly office of putting me into the shortest and safest road."-"I am going to Lmyself to-night, but I go across the bog and mountain. The road is ten * Next to Tithes, Conacres are the most fruitful sources of litigation in Ireland. By this word is meant a portion of ground "in heart" let out for the purpose of planting potatoes. Twenty or thirty persons, perhaps, divide an acre between them, for which they pay an enormous price; and before they are allowed to dig the crop, they are obliged to give promisso ry notes, which are rarely, indeed, paid without a "process." miles round, and at last you must turn off it, and travel two miles of as bad ground as any in the parish, before you get to the village. If you'll come our way it is not half the distance"-"Is the path safe for my horse?"" It is, with any body who knows it."" Then I will take advantage of thy company and protection."-" Perhaps, sir," said the girl who had attended him, advancing, "you would rather rest to-night, and seek the mountain with the morning's light. We have no accommodation here, but I can get you a comfortable bed at a neighbour's. The night will be dark, the way is bad, and these are far from quiet times on the mountains." "I thank thee. The words of kindness sound still better from the lips of an innocent maiden, but I must on to my journey's end to-night.-Had we not better depart?" said he, addressing the men; to which the reply was, "we are ready, sir." The stranger then proceeded to mount his horse, and with one of the men on each side, passed on through the village. When they had left it about half a mile behind, they turned into a species of path, extending through a large bog, which, by the faint light that remained, appeared to be several miles in length. The track which they were on, was marked by a succession of large stones and flags, placed like stepping-stones, with the interstices filled up with furze bushes and loose gravel. On such a road they were obliged to proceed but slowly; and when both men suddenly seized the bridle of his horse, he thought it was to assist him through some more dangerous part. He was, however, very quickly undeceived. "We go no farther," said the eldest," before we know what brings you to L-to night. What is your business, and with whom? We want no spies there; and if you are one, you had better have blown your brains out, and died quietly, than come to intermeddle with us."— "I come not as a spy, but a friend. The faith of the Cross must prosper. The hills shall be higher than the valleys, when the Eagle finds his nest again!'"* In a moment hands were grappled, the signs and marks of bro therhood were interchanged, and the Preacher was metamorphosed into a staunch and sturdy rebel. It had now become completely dark. A few faint stars alone were visible, yet they trod their dangerous path with as much confidence and celerity as in the broad day-light. The Stranger, or, as he now avowed himself, Manus Boyle, the illegitimate son of a man of high rank, and the most active and useful of the travelling agents of sedition, asked many questions respecting the zeal and forwardness in preparation of the insurgents of the surrounding mountains; the answers to which were by no means calculated to please him. He was a determined, and intelligent, but also a prudent man. He had devoted all his energies to the cause. He had "set his life upon a cast," and, like Gloucester, was willing to "stand the hazard of the die!" but he was also willing to use every means to ensure success. Here, as into every other part of the kingdom in which he had travelled, he was mortified to find *This prophecy was peculiar to the north, and arose from the singular separation of the country between the Presbyterians, or Scots' settlers, and the Catholics, or native Irish. The former possessing the valleys, and the latter the mountains, almost exclusively. that courage, and hatred of the Loyalists, were the traitors' only revolutionary qualifications; and, even then, he plainly perceived that while national separation, and an independent government, were the objects of the few leading men who had planned the insurrection, the great body of the people had views only extending to relief from the pressure of rent and tithes, or to an unrestrained privilege to murder, rob, and plunder. "Is young Fitzgerald at home?" said he after a pause. "I think he's at the Hall."" With Colonel Ogilvie?"-" No, with the Colonel's daughter; I met them riding together to-day. He spends most of his time there now; and some among us think he might spend it better. There's no trusting mixed blood after all!" There's no trusting a man when he has got a girl in his head, thought Boyle, as he rode on in silence. They had now passed the bog, and entered a narrow lane, climbing in various directions along the base and sides of an extended chain of hills. This led the travellers through many straggling villages, whose silence gave them the appearance of almost complete desertion. As they approached the one they sought, which was situated on the highest of the range, they entered a broad level valley, where, by the light of several large fires of turf and wood, they perceived the collected inhabitants of the country for ten or twelve miles round. The men arranged in detached parties, learning military movements from the few among them who had spent part of their lives in the army; and the women and children in groups around the fires, singing the rebellious ballads, or reading and repeating the prophecies, which were at that time largely distributed through the country, by persons who were hired to assume the appearance of pedlars. As they passed on, a young man mounted on a spirit ed hunter galloped towards them, "That's young Fitzgerald himself!" said the man who had been spokesman during their journey. "Well met, sir," said the stranger, as they approached. He paused for a moment, "Is it you, Manus? you are welcome to the mountains:-but I can perceive you have got news for me."-" Yes, but not to be told here."-"We'll go to the Lodge inmediately;-wait for an instant, I have but to finish a bargain for some pikes, and will be with you in a moment." He galloped off as he spoke, and as Manus thought of his ardent and generous spirit, a degree of compunction arose for the share which he had in initiating him into the desperate designs of desperate men; but as the idea became oppressive he threw it off. "The blame is not mine," said he, " I did but as I was ordered by greater and wiser men." Young Fitzgerald soon returned, and passing to the other side of the valley they entered an avenue which led directly to the Lodge at the foot of the mountain. As they passed along, the moon arose; but with no placid beam, her pallid hue and undefined edge mingling with the iriscoloured circle which surrounded her, were seen by the Mountain-Shepherd with fear. Dark, and abruptly edged clouds floated along the horizon, and the wind, as if arising among the thistles and heath of the mountain, at intervals rushed down it's side, and spent its force across the valley. Half an hour brought them to the Lodge, and as soon as the servant, who came with refreshments, had departed, Fitzgerald bolted the door. "I can wait no longer, Manus; what is the news?"" You must go to France. There are your credentials, and here is a letter from the General.”—“ What should I do in France? I have neither taste nor talent for intrigue, and he knows it. I will not go!" said he, as he broke the seal of the letter, but his determination was broken ere he had finished its perusal. The delicate flattery of his great and talented relation; the importance of the mission with which he found himself entrusted; and, above all, a half-formed idea that it would be a good opportunity to ask Jane Ogilvie to share his journey, influenced an immediate change in his resolution. His companion then related all the late proceedings of the disaffected, both in Ireland and on the Continent; and in arguing the propriety of some plans, and the possibility of others, the night passed rapidly away. In the mean time the storm had risen in all its fury. The long, loud howling of the winds pent in the narrow valleys, mingled with the thunder, reverberating from hill to hill, at intervals deepened the roar of the blast; while the lightning, now shooting in long arrowy gushes, and again blazing in sheeted flame athwart the firmament, scarcely surpassed the brilliancy of the glimpses of moonlight, momentarily escaping from the riven masses of black clouds which deepened all around. As Fitzgerald was employed watching the effects of the storm, he was startled by a loud knocking at the Hall-door. It was in a moment repeated. His domestics had retired to rest, and followed by Manus he proceeded to open it himself. As soon as he did so, two men rushed in, whom he immediately knew to be domestics of his neighbour, Colonel Ogilvie. "What's the matter, James?" said he hurriedly. "My master's killed, and the house robbed, and I suppose burned, by this time, sir. The Rebels have come down upon us at last."-" And Miss Ogilvie!-where is Miss Ogilvie?" The men looked at each other, as if ashamed of having deserted her. "Ruffians!" exclaimed Fitzgerald, almost maddened by passion, " tell me what has become of her or›› "Indeed we know not, sir. When we saw our master fall, we thought all was over, and ran hither immediately."-" Manus will you accompany us?" said Fitzgerald, as he hastened towards the stable. "Certainly, go in for pistols, while I saddle the horses." In a few minutes they were on their way to the Hall, which lay still lower down the valley, towards the neighbouring post-town. The carriage way was three miles round; but a narrow path ran through Fitzgerald's ground into the Colonel's, and was not more than half the distance: a shallow mountain stream only dividing the two estates. This, which in general was hardly deep enough to wet the horses' knees, now presented a very different appearance; and the banks, on each side, for some distance, were evidently overflowed; while the impetuous waters still came down with the violence of a torrent. "Is there no bridge?" said Manus, as they approached. "None, until you come to the road-bridge, ride along the bank and you will find it."-" Come on then!" But as he turned his horse, he heard a plunge into the water; and on looking round, in a few minutes perceived Fitzgerald emerging through spray and foam on the |