The cook, directing a silent, significant glance of compassion toward her fellow-servants, said,

"Would you like a drink of cider, Tim, or will you wait and take a cup of tay with myself and Kitty ?"

were on the alert, and several suspicious-looking Mr. Hewson's kitchen, and took his seat on the men found lurking about, were taken up. A corner of the settle next the fire. hat which fitted one of them was picked up in Mr. Hewson's grove; the gravel under the end window bore many signs of trampling feet; and there were marks on the wall as if guns had rested against it. Gahan's information touching the intended meeting at Kilcrean bog proved to be totally without foundation; and after a careful search, not a single pike or weapon of any description could be found there. All these circumstances combined certainly looked suspicious; but, after a prolonged investigation, as no guilt could be actually brought home to Ga-ner, dwelling long on each word. han, he was dismissed. One of his examiners, however, said privately, “I advise you take care of that fellow, Hewson. If I were in your place, I'd just trust him as far as I could throw him, and not an inch beyond."

The old man's eyes were fixed on the fire, and a wrinkled hand was planted firmly on each knee, as if to check their involuntary trembling. "I'll not drink any thing this night, thank you kindly, Nelly," he said, in a slow, musing man

"Where's Billy?" he asked, after a pause, in a quick, hurried tone, looking up suddenly at the cook, with an expression in his eyes which, as she afterward said, took away her breath.

"Oh, never heed Billy! I suppose he's busy with the master."

"Where's the use, Nelly," said the coachman, "in hiding it from him? Sure, sooner or later, he must know it. Tim," he continued, "God knows 'tis sorrow to my heart this blessed

William has done what he oughtn't to do to the man that was all one as a father to him."

"What has he done? what will you dar say again my boy ?"

An indolent, hospitable Irish country gentleman, such as Mr. Hewson, is never without an always shrewd and often roguish prime minister, who saves his master the trouble of looking after his own affairs, and manages every thing that is to be done in both the home and foreign depart-night to make yours sore-but the truth is, that ments—from putting a new door on the pig-stye, to letting a farm of an hundred acres on lease. Now in this, or rather these capacities, Gahan had long served Mr. Hewson; and some seven years previous to the evening on which our story commences, he had strengthened the tie and increased his influence considerably by marrying Mrs. Hewson's favorite and faithful maid. One child was the result of this union; and Mrs. Hewson, who had no family of her own, took much interest in little Billy—more especially after the death of his mother, who, poor thing! the neighbors said, was not very happy, and would gladly, if she dared, have exchanged her lonely cottage for the easy service of her former mistress.

"Taken money, then," replied the coachman, "that the master had marked and put by in his desk; for he suspected this some time past that gold was missing. This morning 'twas gone; a search was made, and the marked guineas were found with your son William."

The old man covered his face with his hands, and rocked himself to and fro.

"Where is he now ?" at length he asked, in a hoarse voice.

"Locked up safe in the inner store-room; the master intends sending him to jail early to-mormorning."

"He will not," said Gahan, slowly. "Kill the boy that saved his life!-no, no."

Thus, though for a time Mr. and Mrs. Hew-row son regarded Gahan with some doubt, the feeling gradually wore away, and the steward regained his former influence.

After the lapse of a few stormy months, the rebellion was quelled: all the prisoners taken up were severally disposed of by hanging, transportation, or acquittal, according to the nature and amount of the evidence brought against them; and the country became as peaceful as it is in the volcanic nature of our Irish soil ever to be.

The Hewsons' kindness toward Gahan's child was steady and unchanged. They took him into their house, and gave him a plain but solid education; so that William, while yet a boy, was enabled to be of some use to his patron, and daily enjoyed more and more of his confidence.

Another evening, the twentieth anniversary of that with which this narrative commenced, came round. Mr. and Mrs. Hewson were still hale and active, dwelling in their hospitable home. About eight o'clock at night, Tim Gahan, now a stooping, gray-haired man, entered

"Poor fellow! the grief is setting his mind astray-and sure no wonder!" said the cook, compassionately.

"I'm not astray !" cried the old man, fiercely. "Where's the master ?-take me to him." "Come with me," said the butler, "and I'll ask him will he see you."

With faltering steps the father complied: and when they reached the parlor, he trembled exceedingly, and leant against the wall for support, while the butler opened the door, and said,

"Gahan is here, sir, and wants to know will you let him speak to you for a minute."

"Tell him to come in," said Mr. Hewson, in a solemn tone of sorrow, very different from his ordinary cheerful voice.

"Sir," said the steward, advancing, "they tell me you are going to send my boy to prison is it true ?"

"Too true, indeed, Gahan. The lad who was reared in my house, whom my wife watched over in health, and nursed in sickness—whom

we loved almost as if he were our own, has robbed us, and that not once or twice, but many times. He is silent and sullen, too, and refuses to tell why he stole the money, which was never withheld from him when he wanted it. I can make nothing of him, and must only give him up to justice in the morning."

"No, sir, no. The boy saved your life; you can't take his."

"You're raving, Gahan."

followed his mother to the grave. He could say little, but he knelt on the ground, and clasping the kind hand of her who had supplied to him that mother's place, he murmured,

"Will you tell him I would rather die than sin again ?"

[From Fraser's Magazine.] DIPLOMACY-LORD CHESTERFIELD.

Old Gahan died two years afterward, truly penitent, invoking blessings on his son and on his benefactors; and the young man's conduct, now no longer under evil influence, was so steady "Listen to me, sir, and you won't say so. and so upright, that his adopted parents felt that You remember this night twenty years? I their pious work was rewarded, and that, in came here with my motherless child, and your-William Gahan, they had indeed a son. self and the mistress pitied us, and spoke loving words to him. Well for us all you did so! That night-little you thought it!—I was banded with them that were sworn to take your life. They were watching you outside the win-THE qualifications required for the diplomatie dow, and I was sent to inveigle you out, that they might shoot you. A faint heart I had for the bloody business, for you were ever and always a good master to me; but I was under an oath to them that I darn't break, supposing they ordered me to shoot my own mother. Well! the hand of God was over you, and you wouldn't come with me. I ran out to them, and I said, 'Boys, if you want to shoot him, you must do it through the window,' thinking they'd be afeard of that; but they weren't-they were daring fellows, and one of them, sheltered by the angle of the window, took deadly aim at you. That very moment you took Billy on your knee, and I saw his fair head in a line with the musket. I don't know exactly then what I said or did, but I remember I caught the man's hand, threw it up, and pointed to the child. Knowing I was a determined man, I believe they didn't wish to provoke me; so they watched you for a while, and when you didn't put him down, they got daunted, hearing the sound of soldiers riding by the road, and they stole away through the grove. Most of that gang swung on the gallows, but the last of them died this morning quietly in his bed. Up to yesterday he used to make me give him money-sums of money to buy his silence -and it was for that I made my boy a thief. It was wearing out his very life. Often he went down on his knees to me, and said, 'Father, I'd die myself sooner than rob my master, but I can't see you disgraced. Oh, let us fly the country! Now, sir, I have told you all-do what you like with me-send me to jail, I deserve it, but spare my poor, deluded, innocent boy !"

It would be difficult to describe Mr. Hewson's feelings, but his wife's first impulse was to has ten to liberate the prisoner. With a few incoherent words of explanation, she led him into the presence of his master, who, looking at him sorrowfully but kindly, said,

"William, you have erred deeply, but not so deeply as I supposed. Your father has told me every thing. I forgive him freely, and you also." The young man covered his face with his hands, and wept tears more bitter and abundant than he had ever shed since the day when he

career, we need hardly say, are many and various. To a perfect knowledge of history and the law of nations should be united a knowledge of the privileges and duties of diplo. matic agents, an acquaintance with the conduct and management of negotiations, the physical and moral statistics, the political, military, and social history of the powers with which the embasssador's nation comes into most frequent intercommunication. To this varied knowledge, it is needless to state, the negotiator should join moderation, dexterity, temper, and tact. An embassador should be a man of learning and a man of the world; a man of books and a man of men; a man of the drawing-room and a man of the counting-house; a preux chevalieur, and a man of labor and of business. He should possess quick faculties, active powers of observation, and that which military men call the coup d'œil. He should be of urbane, pleasant, and affable manners; of cheerful temper, of good humor, and of good sense. He should know when and where to yield, to retreat, or to advance; when to press his suit strongly, or when merely gently to insinuate it indirectly, and, as it were, by inuendo. He should know how to unbend and how to uphold his dignity, or rather the dignity of his sovereign; for it his business, in whatever quarter of the world he may be placed, to maintain the rights and dignities of his sovereign with vigor and effect. It is the union of these diverse, and yet not repugnant qualities, that gives to an embassador prestige, ascendency, and power over the minds of others, that acquires for him that reputation of wisdom, straightforwardness, and sagacity, which is the rarest and most valuable gift of a statesman. One part of the science of diplomacy may be, by even a dull man, mastered without any wonderful difficulties. It is that positive, fundamental, and juridical portion of the study which may be found in books, in treatises; in the history of treaties and of wars; in treatises on international law; in memoirs, letters, and negotiations of embassadors; in historical and statistical works concerning the states of Europe, the balance of power, and the science of politics generally.

But the abstract, hypothetical, and variable | been an embassador to Vienna. In our own portions of the craft-or, if you will, of the day there is scarcely an instance. For though science-depending on ten thousand varying George Canning was embassador for a short and variable circumstances depending on per- time to Lisbon, and the Marquis of Wellesley . sons, passions, fancies, whims; caprices royal, to Spain; though the Duke of Wellington was national, parliamentary, and personal, is above embassador to Paris, was charged with a special theory, and beyond the reach of books; and can mission to Russia, was plenipotentiary at Verona, only be learned by experience, by practice, and yet none of these noblemen and gentlemen ever by the most perfect and intuitive tact. The regularly belonged to the diplomatic corps. The traditional political maxims, the character of most illustrious and striking instance of an emthe leading sovereigns, statesmen, and public bassador raised into a Secretary of State is the men in any given court, as well as the conduct case of Philip Dormer Stanhope, earl of Chesof negotiations, may be acquired by study, by terfield. The character of no man within a observation, by a residence as secretary, as century and a half has been so misrepresented attaché; but who, unless a man of real genius and misunderstood. Lord John Russell, in the for his art-who, unless a man of real ability Bedford Correspondence, which he edited, charges and talent, shall seize on, fix, and turn to his pur- this nobleman with conducting the French nopose, the ever-mobile, the ever-varying phases bility to the guillotine and to emigration. But of courts, of camps, of councils, of senators, of Lord Chesterfield died on the 24th March, 1773, parliaments, and of public bodies? No doubt sixteen years before 1789, and nineteen years there are certain great cardinal and leading prin- before 1792. To any man of reading and reciples with which the mind of every aspirant search-to any man of a decent acquaintance should be stored. But the mere knowledge of with literature, it is unnecessary now to vindiprinciples, and of the history of the science can cate the character of the Earl of Chesterfield. never alone make a great embassador, any more He was unequaled in his time for the solidity and than the reading of treatises on the art of war variety of his attainments; for the brilliancy of his can make a great commander. wit; for the graces of his conversation, and the polish of his style. His embassy to Holland marks his skill, his dexterity, and his address, as an able negotiator; and his administration of Ireland indicates his integrity, his vigilance, and his sound policy as a statesman and as a politician. He was at once the most accomplished, the most learned, and the most far-seeing of the men of his day; and in our own, these is not one public man to compare with him. He foresaw and foretold, in 1756, that French Revolution whose outbreak he did not live to witness. In 1744 he was admitted into the cabinet on his own terms, and was soon after intrusted with a second embassy to Holland, in which his skill and dexterity were universally admitted. He was not more remarkable for a quick insight into the temper of others, than for a command of his own. In history, in literature, in foreign languages, he was equally a proficient. With classical literature he had been from his boyhood familiar. He wrote Latin prose with correctness, ease, and purity; and spoke that tongue with a fluency and facility of the rarest among Englishmen, and not very common even among foreigners. In the House of Lords his speeches were more admired and extolled than any others of the day. Horace Walpole had heard his own father, had heard Pitt, had heard Pulteney, had heard Wyndham, had heard Carteret; yet he in 1743 declared, as is recorded by Lord Mahon, that the finest speech he had ever listened to was one from Chesterfield.

An embassador at a first-rate court should, indeed, be the minister of foreign affairs for his country on a small scale; and we know well enough that the duties devolving on a minister for foreign affairs are grave, are delicate, are all important.

The functions appertaining to the ministry for foreign affairs have been in England during the last two years, and certainly also were from 1793 to 1815, the most important and the most difficult connected with the public administration. A man to fill such a post properly, requires not merely elevation and uprightness of character, but experience, tried discretion, the highest capacity, the most extensive and varied knowledge and accomplishments. Yet how few embassadors (we can scarcely name one) have been in our day, or, indeed, for the last century, elevated into Principal Secretaries of State for Foreign Affairs! Such promotions in France have been matters of every-day occurrence since and previous to 1792. Dumouriez, Talleyrand, Reinhard, Champagny, Maret, Bignon, Montmorency, Chauteaubriand, Polignac, Sebastiani, De Broglie, Guizot, Soult, had all been embassadors before they were elevated into the higher, the more responsible, and the more onerous office. In England, since the accession of George I., we can scarcely cite, speaking off-hand, above four instances.

In 1716 there was Paul Methuen, who had been embassador to Portugal in the reign of Queen Anne, named Secretary of State, for a short time, in the absence of Earl Stanhope; there was Philip Dormer, earl of Chesterfield, in 1746; there was John, duke of Bedford, who succeeded Lord Chesterfield in 1748, and who had previously been embassador to Paris; and there was Sir Thomas Robinson in 1754, who had

For the diplomatic career, Chesterfield prepared himself in a manner not often practiced in his own, and never practiced by Englishmen in our day. Not content, as an undergraduate of Cambridge, with assiduously attending a course of lectures on civil law at Trinity Hall, he applied-as the laws and customs of other

creditable to them, to effect a subscription for the purpose of paying off the poet's debt. Foremost among them was a delicate young nobleman, with sunken cheek and intellectual aspect, who, while traveling for his health on the Continent, had met Moore, with whom he journeyed for a considerable time, and from whom he parted with an intense admiration of the poet's genius and manly character. The young noblemanthen far from being a rich man-headed the list with eleven hundred pounds. The fact deserves to be recorded to the honor of that young noble

to be prime minister of England-Lord John Russell.

countries, and the general law of Europe, were not comprehended in that course-to Vitriarius, a celebrated professor of the University of Leyden; and, at the recommendation of the professor, took into his house a gentleman qualified to instruct him. Instead of pirouetting it in the coulisses of the opera, or in the Redouten Saal of Vienna, instead of graduating at the Jardin Mabille, or the Salle Ventadour, instead of breakfasting at the Café Anglais, instead of dining at the Café de Paris, or swallowing his ices, after the Italiens or Académie Royale, at Tortoni's, instead of attending a funcion or bull-man, who, by slow and sure degrees, has risen fight at Madrid, or spending his mornings and evenings at Jägers's Unter den Linden at Berlin, instead of swallowing Beaune for a bet against Russian Boyars at Petersburgh or Moscow, at Andrieux's French Restaurant, or spending his nights at the San Carlos at Naples, or the Scala at Milan, Chesterfield, eschewing prima donnas, and the delights of French cookery, and the charms of French vaudevilles, set himself down in the town, and in the university in which Joseph Scaliger was a professor, and from whence those famous Elzevir editions of classical works issued, to learn the public law of Europe. These are the arts by which to attain the eminence of a Walsingham and a Burghley, of a D'Ossat and a Jeannin, of a Temple and a De Witt.

Qui cupit optatam cursu contingere metam,
Multa tulit fecitque puer, sudavit et alsit.

[From the Dublin University Magazine.]

THOMAS MOORE.

Of the fact of Moore's steadfastly refusing to accept the subscription offered to be raised for him by his aristocratic Whig friends, there can be no doubt whatever; and the matter is more creditable to him when the fact is remembered that it was not he himself who committed the error by which he was rendered liable to the judgment given against him. He might also have sheltered himself under the example of Charles James Fox, who consented to accept a provision made for him by the leaders of his party. But Moore detested all eleemosynary aid. He speaks in one of his most vigorous poems with contempt of that class of "patriots" (to what vile uses can language be profaned!), "Who hawk their country's wrongs as beggars do their sores."

While sojourning at Paris upon that occasion, Moore received a very remarkable offer. Barnes, the editor of the Times, became severely ill, and

HOW many associations rise to the mind at was obliged to recruit his health by a year's

rest, and the editorship of the Times was actually
offered to Moore, who, in telling the story to a
brilliant living Irishman, said, "I had great dif-
ficulty is refusing. The offer was so tempting
to be the Times for a twelvemonth!" The
offering him the editorship of "the daily miracle"
(as Mr. Justice Talfourd called it) might, how-
ever, have been only a ruse de guerre of his
aristocratic and political friends to bring him
back to London, where, for a variety of reasons,
social and political, his company was then very
desirable.

the name of MoORE! The brilliant wit, the elegant scholar, the most charming poet of sentiment our literature possesses! His vivacity and versatility were quite as remarkable as his fancy and command of melody. He has been admitted, by rare judges of personal merit, to have been, with the single exception of the late Chief Justice Bushe, the most attractive of companions. An attempt has, in some quarters, we have heard, been made to represent Moore as sacrificing to society talents meant for graver pursuits than convivial enjoyments; and it has been insinuated that he wanted that manly There is a very interesting circumstance consternness of character, without which there can nected with the birth of Moore, which deserves be no personal dignity or political consistency. record. The fact of the birth, as every one The facts of Moore's life overthrow, of them-knows, took place at Aungier-street, and its selves, such insinuations. It would be difficult, occasion was at a moment singularly appropriindeed, to point to any literary character who ate for the lyric poet being ushered into the has, during the vicissitudes of an eventful age, world. Jerry Keller, the wit and humorist, more honorably and steadfastly adhered to the rented apartments in the house of Moore's same standard of opinion—qualis ab incepto. brother, in Aungier-street, and had a dinnerHis honorable conduct, when compelled to pay party on the very day of the poet's birth. Just several thousand pounds, incurred by the error as the guests were assembled, and the dinner of his deputy at Bermuda (for whose acts he was on the table, it was announced to them that legally responsible), exhibits the manliness of his Mrs. Moore's accouchement had taken place, and nature. He determined, by honest labor, to pay that she was in a precarious state, the physicians off the vast demand upon him, even though it particularly enjoining that no noise should be made him a beggar! Several of the Whig party made in the house: a difficult matter, when came forward and offered in a manner most Keller, Lysaght, and other convivial spirits were