The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-06-02

=, ils there that the people live gentlemen all
In less than a year, II I'm any ways lucky
VIII be a squire, or meet with fall.
Then straight an Assembly man will be voted
IL PstricA's good fortune be anywise fair
And next TO The Congress will be promoted
And afterwards climb 10 the Presidents chair
This class of songs was perhaps more iniu-
rious to morals than any other. They seemed
TO represent a life Of vice in disgusting light,
yet rowdies would sing them, catch up their
wild romantic spirit, and be prepared to meet
banishment or even the gallows, as a CHEAP
price Tor such ranting, joyous life. Burns tells
. Of the bandit, who
s-s Sung song aad danced gIee
Carousing meath the galloHs tree"
heard of horse thief who was sentenced
to Botany Bay for seven years. He looked the
Judge in the face, with a defiant air, exclaim.
ing
swell, d-nation to my sowl, and that's all
ye can do"
"Oh, nc" said the Judge, 81 can hang YOU"
Wei, them he rejoined, with the same i'm
precation, "thats all ye can do"
once heard touchingly beautiful song of
girl who was wasting away with consumption
| wish | could give it all, but remember only
the first verse:
am wearin ava, Jean,
Like the sna' wreath in the tha', Jean:
l am wearin AVA
TO the land Of Leal
There is nae sorrow there, Jean
There Is neither could nor care, Jean;
The day is always fair
Ia the land Of the Leal.
Leal means true or faithful. Here the land
OF the Leal means the land of reality, in opposi-
ton to earth, which is the land of vain show.
1t was sung to a soft melting air, and l never
heard anything that made such mournfully
pleasant impression. This was owing in part
to the circumstances in which first heard it.
1t was IN the spring of l843, when the snow,
after that dreary, cold winter, was fast disap
pearing under the influence of a vernal sun.
Before my mother sung it. she had been telling
about friend of hers in Ireland who had wasted
away under a slow decline and retained her
delicate beauty to the last. The wilderness of the
snow suggested the almost transparent skin of
the fair eOmplexion--its imperceptibIe vet
rapid disappearance, thesilent decay of strength
The mild sunshine suggested the sweetness of
supernatural comfort; and the indication of
spring, the prospect Of happy Immortality.
have never since seen the snow wasting under
pleasant sunshine, without thinking of "the
land of the Leal." hat circumstances did for
me, susceptible temperament does for the uu-
cultivated Irish and they take up a good song,
or even very Indifferent one, with similar en-
thusiasm.
With the Celtic Irish language / am entirely
unacquainted, but / am told that their songs
have about the same character as the Scotch
Irish-most ofthem rather common affairs, but
few of them really valuable. The only one |
ever heard translated was about poor mans
COW, which had got mired in a bog, but was
with some difficulty saved. To those who have
dozen of cows, and think little of them, the
subject will appear ludicrous but to those who
know how the poor mans COW, that nourishes
his children with her delicious milk, is cherish
ed the song weula be rich iuits very sirpplieitu.
Many cotters who own no land make out to keep
little mountain-cow scarcely as large as a
two year old heifer. She grazes on the COM
mons in the summer, and is fed on pounded
whins in the winter. She is petted like dog,
rubbed down like horse, and in stormy weather
brought into the cot for shelter. When the
family goes to move, half a dozen of men could
scarcely drive her away from the old cabin but
when the old woman who milks her saws.
Come, honey" she follows to the new bita.
ton like dog. For anything to hefall such
an animal would be no trihing occurrence.
The Irish keenrich or funeral drge is said to
be very plain i've. They sung at the wake and
on the way to the grave. Indeed, the Celt was
so intensive in his feelings, that his converse.
ton was often poetry. When q young man in
our neighborhood had died, his sister walked
out the next morning, and, returning, sat down
by the corpse. 81 was looking for ye," said
she, Z" in the barn, l was looking for We in the
Tyre, / was looking for ye in the garden, and
was looking for We in the stackyard. looked to
see ye coming in the red night-cap, but
couldn't find ye." Thus she expressed the
thought that she had so often met him in these
places, but now would see him no more. What
in others might seem afectation, was perfectly
simple and natural in them, for you could see
it come living from their heart. A Young
mother, who could not even read, thus express
ed her feelings over her departed babe:
IL watched he's eye three weary weeks
The pain was KILN him
The poor thing is gone to sleep at last,
Hoch gsdder the day he died than the day he was
boTn!"
The MYSTERIES OF NEwsPAPER.-Henry
Ward Beecher writes of I" the Office Editors
as follows
I" The world at large do not understand the
mysteries of newspaper; and as in a watch
the hands that are seen are but the passive in
struments of the spring, which is never seen,
so, in a newspaper, the most worthy causes Of
its prosperity are often least observed or known.
Who suspects the benefit which paper derives
from the enterprise, the vigilance, and the
watchful fidelity, of the publisher? Who pauses
to think how much of the pleasure of reading
is derived from the skill and care of the printer?
We feel the blemishes of printing, if they exist,
but seldom observe the excellences. In like
manner, how few of all our readers dream that
the Independent owes a great deal of its excel.
lence to the springs that lie coiled up in the
Office named Office Editors in distinction from
the editors who originate the articles that ap-
pear upon the editorial pager
"We eat a hearty dinner, but do not think Of
the farmer that raised the materials thereof, or
he cook that prepared them with infinite pains
and skill. But a cook of vegetables, meat,
pastries, and infinite bOn6ons, has paradisaical
Office in comparison with an Office Editor Be-
fore him pass in review all the exchange news
papers He is to know all their contents-to
mark, for other eyes, the matters that require
attention. His scissors are to be alert, and
clip with incessant industry all the little items
that together form so large an interest in the
news department. He passes in review each
week every State in the Union, through the
newspaper lens he looks across the ocean,
and sees strange lands, and, following the sun,
he searches all around the world for material.
1t will require but one seconds time for the
readers to take in what two hours research
produced. BY him are read the manuscripts
that swarm the Office like flies in July. 1t is
his frown that dooms them. 1t is his hand that
condenses a whole page into line. 1t is his
discreet sternness that restricts sentimental
that gives young poets a twig on
which to sit and sing their first lays.
"And the power behind the throne in news
papers as in higher places, is sometimes as i'm
portant as the throne itself Correspondents,
occasional or regular, stand in awe of that
silent power which has the last chance at an