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into the hands of each, as they chose the weapons, Of all, there was a store; such is the tumultuous condition of many parts of Ireland. Immediately the centre window was opened, and almost as soon, the long flag-staff thrust forth-up the side of which, the banner, displaying the armed figure of William, on horseback, worked in black upon an orange ground, encompassed by the war-cry of the party, The Glorious Memory 1690," and his family motto, "Je Maintiendray," in shining letters, slowly coiled under the guidance of Hopkins. A cross stick was pushed forth, to steady its corners, and the hooknosed king stood conspicuous with his truncheon, pointed as if in defiance of the crowd, which had at that moment arrived under the window. "There you go," said the operator; "there you go, bless your face. Aye, aye, we'll give them one look at your eye-brow, and scare their cowardly souls, as you did in the old time.-See how they shake. Afraid of them, indeed! Afraid of them! Why, in 98, I held the churchyard of Shanakil, by myself, against three hundred of them, and made them skelp. Look to yourselves, however, my lads, for the Amalekites are beginning to look dangerous."

In fact, it was as he said. The mob had suddenly stopped, like a checked wild beast, and stood, tyger-like, in act to spring. Rage, in tenfold rabidity, in consequence of their passions having been excited by the harangue of their great champion, and the intoxication always attendant on numbers, was soon the predominant feeling. Curses, loud and deep, were immediately uttered upon the figure of the victor of the Boyne. The chief, whose title gave the name, and whose recollection, the confidence to their hated antagonists, met their eye, slowly swaying over them in the wind. Their first files were in hasty consultation on what was to be done; whether to commence an immediate attack with missiles, or to batter in the door by the main strength of their dense numbers. The consultation, no doubt, would have been but short, though it is not unlikely that a secret dread, inspired by the old, and long undisputed superiority of the party which offered the insult, and a perfect certainty that they were prepared to defend it to the utmost, operated in making it longer than, otherwise, would have been the case. Within, at the three front win

to

dows of the upper floor, whence the flag was hoisted, stood the Purplemen, three in cach, screened by the sides of the windows, or crouching under the cover of their bases; every man with his piece cocked, and in readiness to fire at the first symptom of violence against the house. There was every reason expect a bloody result. It would have been impossible to have missed in that immense concourse. Every shot must have told; and if the crowd could have taken courage, after the death of some twenty or thirty of their associates, it would have been equally impossible to have held the house against them. The civil, or military power, was out of the question; the whole affair of the panic, or the victory, would not have lasted five minutes.

The counsellor prevented these horrors. It was some time before the check reached his part of the procession, and when it did, those immediately about him could not tell the cause. An inquiry, hastily passed forward from him, and as speedily answered, communicated to him how affairs stood; a hundred hands pointed at once to "The flag! the flag!"-" The flag from the window of Martin the Orangeman." He immediately saw the danger, and jumping up in his chair, stamped eagerly with his foot, and pointed onward with his hand. "On! On!" he cried, in a vehement accent. "On! On! in the name of God and the Virgin! Touch not a stone of the house, or a thread of the silk of that accursed flag. They want you to do it. It will be their greatest triumph. On! On! I implore-I pray --if you love me-if you love your cause if you value your religiongo on." The few men of common sense, in the crowd, added their intreaties to his, and after a dead pause, and a deep silence, the unwilling multitude moved slowly on, darting savage and sanguinary glances at the prey with which they had hoped to have glutted themselves, and at the detested symbol of insult, which hung over them like a pestilence.

When they moved forward, the master sprung up from his post. "There they go-the cowardly rascals-there they go; true children of dirt-real followers of filthy James. Here, brethren, send them the charter song after them, like duck shot into their tails. Chorus it at the pitch of your voices.

• Sound, sound the trumpet, sound; Beat high your rattling drums, Behold, your hero enters,

Your great deliverer comes."

The roaring of the multitude soon drowned the utmost exertions of their voices, but they still continued the song; and the crowd moved on, fretful, glowing, agitated, and thirsty for blood,

rending the sky with shouts of execration and vengeance. If, for a moment, these were intermitted, the hoarse voices of the nine Purplemen were heard floating above them, like surf upon the sea, chaunting disjointed verses of their favourite anthem. Many a day of blood in Ireland, has resulted from a cause as trifling as what I have related.

THE PRESS'S RAGING FURY;
OR, THE

HONEST REPORTER'S SUFFERINGS.
Being a relation of their perils and dan-
gers,
and of the extraordinary hazards they
undergo in their noble quest of adventures:
together with their undaunted valour, and
rare courtesy in writing facts for the public,
and the manner of their spending their coin
in pot-houses, whenever they can.

YE gentlemen of Cockney land,
On beef and beer who mess,
Ah, little do you think upon
The perils of the Press.
Give ear unto its GENTLEMEN,
And they will plainly show
All the cares, and the fears,
While the type-fed cases go.

All ye, that be reporters,

Must bear a valiant heart,
For when you come upon the press
Ye must not think to start;
Nor once to be faint-hearted,
At lie, fib, bounce, or so,
Ye must hoax silly folks,
When the type-fed cases go.

The kickings and the horse-whippings
Poor gentlemen endure,

From hostile whip, or scornful lip,

We seldom rest secure.

Our sleep it is disturbed,

By dreams of Barry O
We must feel whelk and wheal,
When the type-fed cases go.

'Mid sheets of roaring blunders,
And lies, and libels coarse,
We give you charming poetry
Fit to enchant a horse.
Such as that pretty epigram
Upon Sir Hudson Lowe,t

And the bar of Helenar,

When the type-fed cases go.

NEPTUNE'S RAGING FURY;

OR, THE

GALLANT SEAMAN'S SUFFERINGS.* Being a relation of their peri's and dan jers, and of the extraordinary hazards they undergo in their noble adventures: together with their undaunted valour, and rare constancy in all their extremities: and the manner of their rejoicing on shore, at their return home.'

You gentlemen of England,

That live at home at ease,
Ah! little do you think upon
The dangers of the seas:
Give ear unto the mariners,
And they will plainly show
All the cares, and the fears,

When the stormy winds do blow.
All you that will be seamen,

Must bear a valiant heart,
For when you come upon the seas
You must not think to start;
Nor once to be faint-hearted,

In hail, rain, blow, or snow,
Nor to think for to shrink,

When the stormy winds do blow.

The bitter storms and tempests
Poor seamen do endure';

Both day and night, with many a fright,
We seldom rest secure.

Our sleep it is disturbed

With visions strange to know,
And with dreams on the streams,
When the stormy winds do blow.

In claps of roaring thunder,

Which darkness doth enforce,
We often find our ship to stray
Beyond our wonted course;
Which causeth great distractions,
And sinks our hearts full low;
"Tis in vain to complain,

When the stormy winds do blow,

Sometimes in Neptune's bosom
Our ship is tost in waves,
And every man expecting
The sea to be their graves;

See Courier.

Which we must contradict, again,

In the next post, or so, We belie, low and high,

When the type-fed cases go.

We laugh at faith, and prayer,
With all our might, and thought,
And if we be detected

Strong lying bears us out.
Of God we ask no succour,
For he, as all men know,
Never guides us, or sides us,
While the type-fed cases go.

There was poor Lady Lauderdale,*
Wife of an Earl renowned, [harm,
While snug and warm, she thought no
We burnt her to the ground;

And then with ease, like Beddome's bees,+
So famed, not long ago,
Lady L. revived quite well,

While the type-fed cases go.

We scribble doughty paragraphs,
A penny a line the price,
To serve our English assery

With many a rare device;
To please our English assery
Our pains we freely show,
For we toil, and we moil,

While the type-fed cases go.

We send lords to the Indies,

Who ne'er were destin'd there,

Sometimes again, from France and Spain,

Get letters past compare. Which in garret high carousing O'er small-beer, all-a-row, We did write, clear and bright, While the type fed cases go.

When Parliament is over,

And lengthy speeches past,
Of Mr. Weare, or Thurtell fair,
We make the folks repast:
But when Dick Martin grumbles,
Or Brougham does furious grow,
Then we rouse up the House
While the type-fed cases go.

If Cobbett should abuse us,
When we are all at wars,
Or if John Bull misuse us,

We care not for their scars;
Our roaring pens shall teach them
Our brazen pluck to know,
While we roar, like bear, or boar,
When the type-fed cases go.

We are no cowardly shrinkers,
But true reporters bred;

We'll play our parts, like valiant hearts,
And never fly for dread.
We still call names most nimbly,
Whether we are right or no,
With our mates please the Fates,
While the type-fed cases go.

• Morning Chronicle.

Then up aloft she mounteth, And down again so low; "Tis with waves, O with waves,

When the stormy winds do blow.
Then down again we fall to prayer,
With all our might and thought;
When refuge all doth fail us,

"Tis that must bear us out:
To God we call for succour,
For He it is we know,
That must aid us, and save us,
When the stormy winds do blow.
The lawyer and the usurer,
That sit in gowns of fur,

In closets warm can take no harm,
Abroad they need not stir;

When winter fierce with cold doth pierce,
And beats with hail and snow,

We are sure to endure,

When the stormy winds do blow.

We bring home costly merchandise,
And jewels of great price;
To serve our English gallantry
With many a rare device;
To please the English gallantry,
Our pains we freely show,
For we toil, and [we] moil,

When the stormy winds do blow.

We sometimes sail to the Indies,
To fetch home spices rare;
Sometimes again to France and Spain,
For wines beyond compare;
Whilst gallants are carousing

In taverns on a row,

Then we sweep o'er the deep,
When the stormy winds do blow.

When tempests are blown over,
And greatest fears are past,
In weather fair, and temperate air,
We straight lie down to rest;
But when the billows tumble,

And waves do furious grow,
Then we rouse, up we rouse,
When the stormy winds do blow.

If enemies oppose us,

When England is at wars
With any foreign nations,

We fear not wounds nor scars;
Our roaring guns shall teach 'eni
Our valour for to know,
Whilst they reel in the keel,

When the stormy winds do blow.

We are no cowardly shrinkers,

But true Englishmen bred; We'll play our parts, like valiant hearts, And never fly for dread;

We'll ply our business nimbly,

Where'er we come or go,
With our mates, to the Streights,
When the stormy winds do blow.

+ Morning Post.