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found the stone every minute going from under me. I had no choice; so thinks I to myself, faint heart never won fair lady, and this is fair persuadance:—‘I thank your honour,’ says I, “for the loan of your civility; and I'll take your kind offer.' I therefore mounted upon the back of the eagle, and held him tight enough by the throat, and up he flew in the air like a lark. Little I knew the trick he was going to serve me. Up— up—up—God knows how far up he flew. ‘Why, then, said I to him—thinking he did not know the right road home—very civilly, because why?—I was in his power entirely;-‘sir,’ says I, ‘please your honour's glory, and with humble submission to your better judgment, if you'd fly down a bit, you're now just over ny cabin, and I could be put down there, and many thanks to your worship.’ “‘Arrah, Dan,’ said he, “do you think me a fool! Look down in the next field, and don't you see two men and a gun? By my word it would be no joke to be shot this way, to oblige a drunken blackguard that I picked up off of a could stone in a bog.' * Bother you,' said I to myself, but I did not speak out, for where was the use? Well, sir, up he kept, flying, flying, and I asking him every minute to fly down, and all to no use. ‘Where in the world are you going, sir?" says I to him. ‘Hold your tongue, Dan,’ says he “mind your own business, and don't be interfering with the business of other people.’ ‘Faith, this is my business, I think,’ says I. ‘Be quiet, Dan,’ says he: so I said no more. “At last where should we come to, but to the moon itself. Now you can't see it from this, but there is, or there was in my time a reaping-hook sticking out of the side of the moon, this way (drawing the figure on the ground with the end of his stick.) “Dan,’ said the eagle, ‘I'm tired with this long fly; I had no notion 'twas so far.” “And my lord, sir,’ said I, ‘who in the world ared you to fly so far—was it I? did not I beg, and pray, and beseech you to stop half an hour ago?’ ‘There's no use talking, Dan,’ said he ; ‘I'm tired bad enough, so you must get off, and sit down on the moon until I rest myself.' “Is it sit down on the moon?" said I; “is it upon that little round thing, then? why, then, sure I'd fall off in a minute, and be kilt and spilt, and smashed all to bits. you are a vile deceiver—so you

are.’ ‘Not at all, Dan,’ said he: “you can catch fast hold of the reaping-hook that's sticking out of the side of the moon, and twill keep you up.’, ‘I won’t, then,' said I. ‘May be not,’ said he, quite quiet. “If you don't, my man, I shall just give you a shake, and one slap of my wing, and send you down to the ground, where every bone in your body will be sinashed as small as a drop of dew on a cabbage-leaf in the inorning.” “Why, then, I'm in a fine way,' said I to myself, “ever to have come along with the likes. of you;' and so giving him a hearty curse in Irish, for fear he'd know what I said, I got off of his back with a heavy heart, took a hold of the reaping-hook, and sat down upon the moon, and a mighty cold seat it was, I can tell you that. “When he had me there fairly landed, he turned about to me, and said, “Good morning to you, Daniel O'Rourke,” said he “I think I've nicked you fairly now. You robbed my nest last year,' ('twas true enough for him, but how he found it out is hard to say,) “and in return you are freely welcome to cool your heels dangling upon the moon like a cockthrow.' “‘Is that all, and is this the way you leave me, you brute, you?" says I. “You ugly unnatural baste, and is this the way you serve me at last 2 Bad luck to yourself, with your hook'd nose, and to all your breed, you blackguard.' 'Twas all to no manner of use: he spread out his great big wings, burst out a laughing, and flew away like lightning. I bawled after him to stop; but I might have called and bawled for ever, without his minding me. Away he went, and I never saw him from that day to this—sorrow fly away with him ' You may be sure I was in a disconsolate condition, and kept, roaring out for the bare grief, when all at once a door opened right in the middle of the moon, creaking on its hinges as if it had not been opened for a month before... I suppose they never thought of greasing 'em, and out there walks—who do you think but the man in the moon? I knew him by his bush. “‘Good morrow to you, Daniel O'Rourke,” said he “How do you do?” “Very well, thank your honour," said I. “I hope your honour's well.’ ‘What brought you here, Dan?” said he. So I told him how I was a little overtaken in liquor at the master's, and how I was cast on a dissolute island, and how I lost mv way in the bog, and how the thief of an eagle promised to fly me out of it, and how instead of that he had fled me up to the moon. “‘Dan,’ said the man in the moon, taking a pinch of snuff when I was done, “you must not stay here.’ ‘Indeed, sir,’ says I, ‘’tis much against my will I'm here at all; but how am I to go back?’ ‘That's your business,’ said he, “Dan: mine is to tell you that here you must not stay, so be off in less than no time.” “I’m doing no harm,” says I, ‘ only holding on hard by the reapinghook, lest I fall off.’ ‘That's what you must not do, Dan,’ says he. ‘Pray, sir,’ says I, ‘may I ask how many you are in family, that you would not give a poor traveller lodging: I'm sure 'tis not so often you're troubled with strangers coming to see you, for 'tis a long way.” “I’m by myself, Dan,’ says he: “but you'd better let go the reaping-hook.’ ‘Faith, and with your leave,’ says I, “I’ll not let go the grip.’ ‘You had better, Dan,’ says he again. “Why, then, my little fellow,’ says I, taking the whole weight of him with my eye from head to foot, “there are two words to that bargain; and I'll not budge, but you may if you like.” “We'll see how that is to be,’ says he ; and back he went, giving the door such a great bang after him for it was plain he was huffed), that thought the moon and all would fall down with it. “Well, I was preparing myself to try strength with him, when back again he comes, with the kitchen cleaver in his hand, and without saying a word, he gave two bangs to the handle of the reapinghook that was keeping me up, and whap 1 it came in two. ‘Good morning to you, Dan,’ says the spiteful little old blackguard, when he saw me cleanly falling down with a bit of the handle in my mand; “I thank you for your visit, and fair weather after you, Daniel.’ I had not time to make any answer to him, for I was tumbling over and over, and rolling and rolling at the rate of a fox-hunt. “God help me,’ says I, “but this is a pretty pickle for a decent man to be seen in at this time of night: I am now sold fairly.” The word was not out of my mouth, when whiz: what should fly by close to my ear but a flock of wild geese; and the ould gander, who was their general, turning about his head, cried out to me, ‘Is that you Dan' I was not a bit daunted now at what he said, for I was the very bottom of the salt sea! Down to the very bottom I went, and I gave myself up then for ever, when a whale walked up to me, scratching himself after his night's sleep, and looked me full in the face, and never the word did he say, but lifting up his tail, he splashed me all over again with the cold salt water, till there wasn't a dry stitch upon my whole carcass; and I heard somebody saying– 'twas a voice I knew, too—“Get up, you drunken brute, off of that:' and with that I woke up, and there was Judy with a tub full of water, which she was splashing me all over;-for, rest her soul! though she was a good wife, she never could bear to see me in drink, and had a bitter hand of her own. “‘ Get up,” said she again; “and of all places in the parish, would no place sarce your turn to lie down upon but under the outd walls of Carrigaphooka! an uneasy resting I am sure you had of it.” And sure enough I had ; for I was fairly bothered out of my senses with eagles, and men of the moons, and flying ganders, and whales, driving me through bogs, and up to the moon, and down to the bottom of the great ocean. If I was in drink ten times over, long would it be before I'd lie down in the same spot again, I know that.”

by this time used to all kinds of bedevilment, and, besides, 1 knew him of ould. * Good morrow, to you,' says he, ‘Daniel O'Rourke: how are you in health this morning?” “Very well, sir,’ says I, ‘I thank you kindly, drawing my breath, for I was mightily in want of some. “I hope your honour's the same.’ ‘I think 'tis falling you are, Daniel,” says he ‘You may say that, sir,’ says I. “And where are you going all the way so fast o' said the gander. So I told him how I had taken the drop, and how I came on the island, and how I lost my way in the bog, and how the thief of an eagle flew me up to the moon, and how the man in the moon turned me out. “Dan,' said he, “I’ll save you: put out your hand and catch me by the leg, and I'll fly you home.’ ‘Sweet is your hand in a pitcher of honey, my jewel,” says I, though all the time I thought in myself that I don’t much trust you; but there was no help, so I caught the gander by the leg, and away I and the other geese flew after him as fast as hops. “We flew, and we flew, and we flew, until we came right over the wide ocean. I knew it well, for I saw Cape Clear to my right hand, sticking up out of the water. “Ah! my lord,” said I to the goose, for I thought it best to keep a civil tongue in my head any way, “fly to land if you please.’ ‘It is impossible, you see, Dan,’ said he, “for a while, because you see we are going to Arabia.” “To Arabia,' said I; ‘that's surely some place in foreign parts, far away. Oh! Mr. Goose: why then, to be sure, I'm a man to be pitied among you.’ “Whist. whist, you fool,' said he, “hold your tongue; I tell you Arabia is a very de cent sort of place, as like West Carbery as one egg is like another, only there is a little more sand there.'

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the infernal powers.” In heraldry, as head of the order of archangels, his ensign is a banner hanging on a cross, and he is armed as Victory, with a dart in one hand, and a cross on his forehead, or the top of the head; archangels are distinguished from angels by that sign. Usually, however, he is painted in coatarmour, in a glory, with a dart, throwing Lucifer headlong into a flame of fire issuing out of a base proper; this is also termed the battle between Michael and the devil, with his casting out of heaven into the lake of fire and brimstone. “There remained,” says a distinguishing herald, “still in heaven, after the fall of Lucifer, the bright star, and his company, more angels than there ever was, is, and shall be men born in the earth, which God ranked into nine orders or chorus, called the nine quoires of holy angels.”f St. Michael is further represented in catholic books as engaged with weighing souls in a pair of scales. A very curious spiritualizing romance, originally in French, printed in English by Caxton, in the reign of Edward V., exemplifies the office of St. Michael in this capacity; the work is entitled—“The Pilgremage of the Sowle.” The author expresses himselt under “the similitude of a dream,” which, he says, befell him on a St. Laurence’ night sleeping in his bed. He thought himself travelling towards the city of Jerusalem, when death struck his body and soul asunder; whereupon Satan in a foul and horrible form came towards the soul, which being in great terror, its warden, or guardian angel, desired Satan to flee away and not meddle with it. Satan refuses, alleging that God had permitted that no soul which had done wrong should, on its passage, escape from being “snarlyd in his trappe;” and he said, that the guardian angel well knew that he, the said guardian, could never withdraw the soul from evil, or induce it to follow his good counsel; and that even if he had, the soul would not have thanked him for it; Satan, therefore, knew not why the angel should interfere,and begged he would let him alone to do with the soul what he had a right to do, and could not be prevented from doing. The parley continued, until they agreed to carry the soul before Michael, the provost of heaven, and abide his award on Satan's claim.

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* Butler. • Holme.

The soul was then lifted between them both into the transparent air, wherein the spirits of the newly dead were passing thickly on every side, to and fro, as motes flitting in the sun-beam. They tarried not until they arrived at a marvellous lace of bright fire, shining with a brilliant ight, surrounded by a great multitude of souls attending there for a like purpose. The guardian angel entered, leaving Satan without, and also the soul, who could hear the voice of his warden speaking in his behalf, and acquainting Michael that he had brought from earth a pilgrim, who was without, and with him Satan his accuser, abiding judgment. Then Satan began to cry out and said, “Of right he is mine, and that I shall prove; wherefore deliver him to me by judgment, for I abide naught else.” This caused proclamation to be made by sound of trumpet in these words:– “All ye that are without, awaiting your judgment, present yourselves before the provost to receive your doom ; but first ye that have longest waited, and especially those that have no great matter and are not much troubled; for the plain and light causes shall first be determined, and then other matters that need greater tarrying.” This proclamation greatly disturbed the souls without. Satan and his evil spirits were most especially angry, and holding a consultation, he spoke as follows: “It appears we are of little consequence, and hence our wicked neighbours do us injustice. These wardens hinder us from our purposes, and we are without favour. There is no caitiff pilgrim but hath had a warden assigned him from his birth, to attend him and defend him at all times from our hands, and especially from the time that he washed in the “salt lye,' ordained by grace de Dieu, who hath ever been our enemy; and then they are taken, as soon as these wardens come, before the provost, and have audience at their own pleasure; while we are kept here without, as mere ribalds. Let us cry out a rowe [haro), and out upon them all ! they have done us wrong; and we will speak so loud that in spite of them they shall hear us.” Then Satan and his spirits cried out all at once, * Michael ! provost, lieutenant, and commissary of the high judge' do us right, without exception or favour of any party. You know very well that in every upright court the prosecutor is admitted to make his accusation and propose his petition;

but you first admit the defendant to make his excusation. This manner of judging is suspicious; for were these pilgrims innocent yet, if reason were to be heard, and right were to prevail, the accusers would have the first hearing to say what they would, and then the defendants after them, to excuse themselves if they could: we, then, being the prosecutors, hear us first, and then the defendants.” After Satan's complaint, the soul heard within the curtain, “a longe parlament;" and, at the last, there was another proclamation ordered by sound of trumpet, as follows:—“All ye that are accustomed to come to our judgments, to hear and to see, as assessors, that right be performed, come forth immediately and take your seats; ye well knowing your own assigned places... Ye also that are without, waiting the sitting of the court, present yourselves forthwith to the judgment thereof, in order as ye shall be called; so that no one hinder another, or interrupt another's discourse. Ye pilgrims, approach the entrance of this curtain, awaiting without; and your wardens, because they are our equals, belonging to our company, are to appear, as of right they ought, within our presence.” After this proclamation was observed, the guardian angel said, “Provost Michael ! I here present to you this pilgrim, committed to my care in the world below: he has kept his faith to the last, and ought to be received into the heavenly Jerusalem, whereto his body hath long been travelling.”—Satan answered—“Michael ! attend to my word and I shall tell you another tale.” The soul being befriended throughout by St. Michael, finally escapes the dreadful doom of eternal punishment. On St. Michael's contention with the devil about the body of Moses, more may be seen in the volume on “Ancient Mysteries,” from which the present notice is extracted, or in “Bishop Marsh's translation of Michaeli's Introduction to the New Testament.” The managers of an institution for the encouragement of British talent, less versed in biblical criticism than in art, lately offered a prize to the painter who should best represent this strange subject.

fi.ortal, directory.

Lily of the Valley. Convallaria majalis Dndicated to St. Selena

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A walk out of London is, to me, an event; I have an every-day desire to bring it about, but weeks elapse before the time arrives whereon I can sally forth. In my boyhood, I had only to obtain parental permission, and stroll in fields now no more, to scenes now deformed, or that I have been wholly robbed of, by “the spirit of improvement.” Five and thirty years have altered every thing — myself with the rest. I am obliged to “ask leave to go out,” of time and circumstance; or to wait till the only enemy I cannot openly face has ceased from before me—the north-east wind—or to brave that foe and get the worst of it. I did so yesterday. “This is the time,” I said, to an artist, “when we Londoners begin

No. 21.

to get our walks; we will go to a place or two that I knew many years ago, and see how they look now; and first to Canonbury-house.” Having crossed the back Islingtonroad, we found ourselves in the rear of the Pied Bull. Ah! I know this spot well: this stagnant pool was a “famous” carp pond among boys. How dreary the lace seems' the yard and pens were ormerly filled with sheep and cattle for Smithfield market; graziers and drovers were busied about them; a high barred gate was constantly closed; now all is thrown open and neglected, and not a living thing to be seen. We went round to the front, the house was shut up, and nobody answered to the knocking. It had

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