Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1844-07-05

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with real, maddened with supposed wrongs
his experience of the world suggesting dis
trust and oppression, and his traditions al
telling of "A time when his forcfa,hers wett
the owners of that soil he now TILED rs
serf. They would not stoop 10 know or think
Of these things they we're satisfied with the
straws that marked the course Of the stream
they never cared for the depth Of the curren
that ran beneath.
But stranger than all this, no novelist has
thought of ireland as a theme for historical
story, yet what land has experienced such an
evcntful history! Where have such ele-
mcns entered en- scene so well contrased, So
strongly marked in every feature of differ
encc! The native prince among his follow
crs, the stranger baron with his rctaincrs, the
Anglo Irish exaggerating in his person every
vice Of either; the Cell and the Norman, the
Priest and the Laic, the craftystatesman and
the doughty warrior, were all there, amid IA
chaos of crumbling civilization, and the
foundation ola new order of thngs-scenery,
story, costume, strange usagcs, every thing,
in fact, that can contribute to embclIish iic-
ton, and make the task of the novelist as
instructive as amusing and yet these stores
! lay neglected and forgotten, whlld men tax
their ingenuity to frame events, and their
inaginations to conceive characters.
| "There have been writers of latter years,
whose vigorous rortraures of native char
actcr, SO far as ! have read, seem true and
faithful but with them the parrish has often
had the mastery above the novelist; and
though, perhaps, might agree with many Of
the opinions advanced, never could consent
to their Introduction in situations to which
they were unsnited. sneak of these, Of
course, with difilcnce indeed, my acqun-
lance with so much of English literature as
bore reference to ireland, ended with the
life of dear friend and brother officer, who
fell at the battle of Champ ALBERT Poor
fellow ! he was happy in so much as he new
er witnessed Fontaincblcau or Waterloo"
The old Count, whose excitement, had
sustained him hitherto, and supplied strength
for an effort above his natural forces, now
sank hack in his chair ,wcaried and exhausted.
Colonel said he, after pause which we
iclt no inclination to break; and you, my
young countryman, may | ask your pardon
for this piece of an old mans earrulty.-
You yourself are, however, to blame you
started "A topic which for years past has lain
in my heart, and is associated, in one respect,
with the very happiest hours of my life. |
alluded few moments since to a comrade,
the Colonel Dernzy-he was my aid-de-
camp for some years; and we amused our
selves, in the dullness of garrison life, and
fortress duty, by compiling number of s,o-
rles. Ot some, history, of others, memory,
and OF others again, mere fancy supplied the
material. Poor performances they were,
but they amused hours that would otherwise
have hung heavily on our hands, besides that
they formed one last link to the land Of our
bhth. The history Of their composition
might, perhaps, have more interest than any
thing in the ilctons themselves. Many
scene was written under circumstances, and
in places, sufficiently strange and remote 10
excite curiosity and establishment some on
the eve OF battle-Some al the outposs, when
threatened attack could not damp our ardor
respecting tavorite character. One whole
tale was written during the Siege of Danlzc
another was finished beneath the walls of the
Crcmlin. do not know whether these cir
cumstanccs gave any coloring to the stories
in their course; should perhaps saw not
at least, we felt at the time of writing as
though we were still in the Green Isle, and
,reading the very green hills and valleys we
were describing
And what became Of them, Count-they
were not lost, hope ?
No; the haversack that once held them
in my baggage-train contains them still.
looked over them a few days since, but the
ink has faded and my eyesght too, and so
could not decypher the lines as Wished
The companion of my labors, however, Is
gone, and confess, old as am, the sight of
them made my heart heavy the whole day af-
ter
have now, my dear reader, presented you
with the substance of conversation which, If
unhappily too proliy, my own apology is the
interest felt in it at the time. A word more
and | have done. The pleasure felt in the
old Counts society inclined me TO delay nv
departure for above a week, during which
spent several hours of each day with him.
The last evening of my stay. when went to
take my leave of him, he presented me with
the haversack containing his MSS as a SOU
venr Of his regard.
At my age sad he, smiling, one cannot
afford long time to form friendship. Short
as our intimacy has been. have seen enough
to like in you. These old papers will amuse
some leisure hours at one day or other. and
If ever you deem them worthy to see the light,
| have only to bargain that it shall not be, I'M
til my eyes are closed to it for ever
Such is my last Confession, and such the
source ola series Of stories, the first of which
purpose presenting to you in the ensuing
number of this Magazine, when | shall ask
your kind indulgence for
THE NEvILLEs OF QUEENSTOWN,
A Tale of l760.
The first part is entirely in Derinzy's wri
ting, the latter chapters bear the impress of
! O'Mahon's.
One word more. 1t is a somewhat com.
mon practice in our day--and one from whose
sin cannot altogether exonerate myself-1r
writers to be the sole authors of works of
winch they announce lhemselver the editors.