niac tortures, whose memory was so forcibly recalled, and shrunk, as if from the lash, at the words of the orator.

But it is less to the force and the sweetness, than to the variety of his eloquence, that he owes his great dominion over the minds of his auditors. He can suit it to every mood of the multitude, and avail himself of every the slightest circumstance. He can play upon the human heart, like an instrument, and run through all its intonations with a magic mastery. This was forcibly illustrated at an anti-slavery meeting, in Cork, where the greater part of the assembly were his inveterate political opponents. He was preceded by the Rev. Mr. Burnett, a gentleman of first rate oratorical powers, and who that day seemed to surpass himself in the strength and splendour of his address one part was particularly remarkable for its force and beauty. It was in answering the objection that the slave was contented with his lot; which he insisted was a strong argument in his favour, as no system could be so vile as that which reduced a human being to so degrading a contentment. Even irrational animals, he said, felt nobler emotions; and the chained Eagle, pampered near the nobleman's residence, envied his free brother of the sky as he soared unrestrained above him. In the description of the free eagle's flight he was inimitably beautiful; but there was an involution in the sentence that made you tremble for the speakers power to finish it. He did finish it, exquisitely; for when we thought he had closed the climax, he went

on still heightening it, until the hearer seemed almost to conceive a notion of infinity—A dead silence followed by a burst of rapturous applause, acknowledged his mastery.

Mr. O'Connell had to move the next resolution. With the tact so peculiarly his own, he avoided for a while the style of the last speaker and adopted the humourous manner in which he is so very effective. A well turned compliment to Mr. Burnett, won greatly upon that Rev. gentleman's adherents, and the playfulness of his manner impressed the audience generally in his favor. Mr. O'Connell's friends, who at first began to fear for the contrast, at once perceived he was on the right tack: by degrees he became more serious, and concluded with a review of the progress of liberty, in one of the noblest speeches perhaps ever uttered. No passage, it is true, equalled that in Mr. Burnett's; but, as a whole, it was more powerfully effective.

In private life the writer of this article had but few opportunities of observing Mr. O'Connell, but these few were too delightful ever to be forgotten. He found in the great Agitator-the idolized of one party and the detested of the other, all the playful gaiety and fresh feeling of boyhood. He had just arrived from his own mountain wilds, where he had been sojourning through the recess, and the greater part of his talk was of the stirring sports in which he had been so lately a sharer. His memory is immense; and so laden with interesting anecdote, that one would imagine his whole life had been spent in

amassing amusing stories. His smile is beyond any thing attractive and winning. It lights up his face like sunshine; but the general character of his countenance, when at rest, is of that pensive cast which is ever found to prevail amongst men constantly engaged in high and difficult undertakings. He is the of all others, of whom we may say in the language of Shakspeare

person,

"The elements are

"So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up

"And say to all the world-THIS IS A MAN."

IMITATED FROM HORACE.

Festo quid potius die

Neptuni faciam ?-Lib. iii. Ode xxviii.

Come what shall we do on our own Paddy's day?
Why what should we do but be merry and gay?
John, stop the decanters-insult not the shrine
Of our own patron Saint, with libations of wine,
On the day of his festival. Place on the board
That five year old stuff, I so fondly have stored
For occasions like these: Now, my friends, feast your eyes
With the varying treasure-Tom Walker, Bill Wise,
Harry Hewitt, Joe Hayes, all gay spirits and bright—
But, John, you've forgotten our crowning delight-
The freeborn, the essence, the glory, the Queen,
The Empress of liquors, the virgin potteen.
Be quick, man; the moon's coming up, o'er the hill,
At the rate of a hunt: do ye think she'll stand still,
While you loiteringly linger? You "son of a gun,"
One would think you had power o'er the moon and the sun,
And could stay them, like Joshua descendant of Nun.
There vanish—and, now boys, for bumpers, brim high;
I am sure, to this toast, you will drain the glass dry,
Here's the union-nay check your intemperate zeal—
Here's the union of all Irish hearts for Repeal!
Come, now for the song and the laugh; be the night
Devoted to gladness and social delight :

A bumper to Venus, who gave her own smile

To the eyes and the lips of the girls of our Isle.

Fill to Moore; our own Moore; at whose song o'er the main, Even tyranny wept as it strengthened the chain.

Fre the evening is ended, how many a name,

Of the brave who now sleep in the cross-ways of fame,
Shall chasten awhile, the more noisy delight,
That rings through the joy of our festival night;
And, when the hour comes that desires us give o'er,

We'll drink "Doch-a-dhorros" in one bottle more,

WHISKEY.

AIR-" Bobbing Joan."

Whiskey, drink divine!

Why should driv'lers bore us

With the praise of wine,

Whilst we've thee before us?

Were it not a shame,

Whilst we gaily fling thee

To our lips of flame,

If we could not sing thee?

Whiskey, drink divine!

Why should driv❜lers bore us

With the praise of wine,

Whilst we've thee before us?

Greek and Roman sung

Chian and Falernian

Shall no harp be strung

To thy praise, Hibernian ?

Yes-let Erin's sons

Gen'rous, brave, and friskey

Tell the world, at once,

They owe it to their whiskey.

Whiskey, &c.

If Anacreon-who

Was the grape's best poet

Drank our Mountain-dew,

How his verse would shew it:

As the best then known,

He to wine was civil

Had he Inishowen

He'd pitch wine to the d-l.

Whiskey, &c.