The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1849-09-18 00:00:00

THE IRISH RENEOADE

" Returning through the narrow and filthy streets, to ne
door that opened into the little court in front of my house, I
was struck with the appearance of a ragged and squalid figure
that accosted me for alms. A few woollen tatters hung about
his person, which was thickly bestudded with sores; a brown
rag was tied around his black, bullet head, and the ends
brought down so as partially to defend his eyes, which were
disgustingly inflamed. His form was emaciated, and he walked
with a feeble and tottering gait. His age was about thirty.
Such figure are common enough in any Mahommedan town,
but there was something in this tellow's appearance that at
once arrested my attention. There was a familiar look about
him, and there was a melancholy twinkle at the bottom of his
dark gray eye, that spoke of a soul not yet broken down by the
frowns of fortune, or driven into the Mussulman's usual refuge
—a stupid indifference to life, with its miseries and pains.
"He said that be had not tasted food for several days. His
looks were sufficient proof of the fact ; so, slipping three or
four feloos—a copper coin—into his hand, I told him to go and
purchase bread.
" An hour or two afterwards, as I was standing in the little
court, which was separated from the street by a low wall, I was
startled by a voice, singing. in a low tone, a verse or two of the
well-known Irish song, the Exile of Erin. Mounting, so as to
overlook the wall, I saw the beggar, seated on theground be-
side the wicket, apparently awaiting my exit. In the meantime
he was amusing himself with singing and talking to himself,
and in poking a pile of offel with his staff. There was no one
but myself within hearing; but, even if there had been, he need
hardly have feared to discover his secret thoughts and feelings,
inasmuch as he was speaking a language which no citizen of El
Garwan could have understood. My surprise may he ima-
gined, when I heard the fellow talking in good, plain English,
though with certain peculiarities of accent and pronunciation
that spoke strongly of that gem of the ocean, the Emerald Isle.
His words ran nearly as follows :
" Sure, its in luck you are to-day, Mr. Hugh Doyle!' Taint
every day that yer stomach has a chance to cry enough, in the
face and eyes of a calabash of milk and meal. Will ye be aisy
now, an' may be I'll get ye some more from the same place.
Ali, Hugh Doyle I Hugh Doyle ! do ye remember the time when
ye'd hardly say thank ye for a meal of parates and meat? and
now ye're starving to death I—And don't ye deserve it, ye vaga-
bond ? Didn't ye desart yer country in anger, and havn't ye
renounced your God in fear?—Are ye a true man, Hugh Doyle?
Devil the bit of it ! Ye're a cowardly, lying, skulking thief of a
renegade !—Can you pray? Yes, ye can, to Allah and Maho•
met ! Allah, illah, Allah 1 Mohammed rasoul Allah ! And is
that yer creed ? Ye've sworn it, ye villain I Holy. Mother of
God ! ye're damned Hugh Doyle ! All the praists in the world,
with the pope and his cardinals at the back of 'em, couldn't
absolve ye ! And how have ye bettered yerselt? When a slave
ye were worked and paten, but ye were fed. Ye chose to make
a haythen and a beggar of yerself, and now ye're starving to
death Ye have the lot of Lazarus in this world, without a
chance of his fate in the next ; and all becase ye are not a true
man. Ochone i Ochnne ! I mourn for ye, Hugh Doyle !'
" The beggar bent his head in silence. A few low sobs came
from his breast,which was evidentlyfilled with emotions deeper
and stronger than would seem to be indicated by his deliberate,
audible, self-communings. With his thin hand he passed a
portion of his tattered garments across his eyes.
" In a few minutes he raised his head, and commenced sing-
ing " There came to the beach—" ah !if I could only get to
that same Bache I—seems to me if I could see the ocean on'st
more I could die content. Sure I could look across it as aisy
as across the lake at Bournboy, and see the green hills of Erran
and Derrymoni. Sure I could pick up its drops in my hand
and ask them, did they know anything of the water of Cavan ?
had they ever fallen in rain upon the Ballyneegeerah ? Had
they ever hung in dew diamonds from roses of Eneskillen ?
Had they ever been scattered from the daisies by the light steps
of the " Pride of the Borne l'--Och, Bessy, mavour-
neen, why did ye smile on Teddy Moffatt and frown black as
night on Hugh Doyle? Could ye see me now, but little would
ye drame that ye saw the boy ye drove to list in the marines
--I was mad----Ye thought I wouldn't, but I
did, and here sits Hugh Doyle among haythens, himself as big
a haythen as can be found in the four quarthers of Asia, Africa
and America--Och, Hugh, you vagabond (had luck
to ye, I would say, but sure ye've enough of that same,) ye've
desartedyer country, ye've changed yer religion, ye've sold yer
soul for nothing at all. Small price ye may say; and so it
would be for a dacent soul, but yer's is worth no more, and ye
can't complain, for hasn't the divil paid ye up like a jintleman,
and a man of his word? Hugh, Hugh Doyle, ye'll
starve in this world and roast in the next, ye poor, mane, un-
fortunate vagabond

We shall not attempt to pursue the story to its de-
nouement, or weaken the interest of the reader by even
hinting at the nature of the further adventures of our
autobiographer. The wonders of the city of Kiloam, the
capital of the country of Kaloolah, will be read with inte-
rest even by those who have devoured the narratives of
the Princess Arunzibede, and be relished even after
Swift's delightful delineations of the Brobdignagians and
Hounyhyms. The wild notions of our Yankee are full of
snatches of mingled sarcasm and playful wit. As a whole,
we recommend the work to our readers, of every phase of
taste, as full of varied talent; and conveying as well,
along with a considerable amount of wild inventiveness,
much information, bearing upon the habits and charac-
teristics of the different localities through which he leads
us in his erratic " journeyings."