chief from his eyes and looked round-he saw nothing of the men; but, to his astonishment, he found himself not five hundred yards from the town he was going to.

The career of a robber is short: a few weeks after the event I have been relating, Dennis and one of his companions were taken in the act of robbery, tried and convicted. Mr. S received a message from his unfortunate man, begging some money to assist in burying him. This is one of the strongest appeals that can be made to charity, and a man who refused his assistance would be considered a barbarian. Mr. S- was not a man to refuse it; he resolved even to go to himself, and administer consolation to the poor condemued. It was the night before the execution. As he approached the gaol, he endeavoured to summon up resolution to meet the scene of woe he expected. It was a scene of noise and confusion. A crowd was assembled before the grated door of the cell. Dennis was mounted on his coffin, from which, as from a pulpit, he addressed them, begging money to bury him, and pray his soul out of purgatory. He rated those who were tardy in drawing out their purses, scolded others who had already given, for not standing back to make room for new comers; wept, preached, and prayed, all in the course of a few minutes. No sooner did he see Mr. S than he descended from his rostrum. He wept bitterly as they went apart together.

"To think of my ill-luck," said he, "in quitting the trade. I was coming with my comrade to see my friends, and then take up, as you advised me, to go to America; and to be taken for nothing else, and hanged like a dog."

"Nothing else!" said Mr. S- "did you not rob a gentleman and lady?"

Of nothing but seven two-pound notes, and a handful of silver," said the other, and that was to pay our passage: we couldn't go to America without money, you know."

Mr. Snow attempted to give him some spiritual advice.

"Don't, dear master," interrupted he; " don't, for

the love of the sweet Jesus, speak about it. I have 'settled all them things with priest Higgins, and it might be the loss of my poor sowl, if a man of another sect meddled with it.'

Mr. S then turned to his companion, who was seated on a stone at the extremity of the cell.

"Is there any thing I can do for you?" said he to him.

"Nothing," replied the other.
"The priest then," said Mr. S

you

absolution, I suppose, likewise."

"has given

"I know too much, to believe any man can do

that," said the other, "would to God I had lived as well as I was taught; I am a Protestant."

"I am sorry, very sorry," said Mr. S

a Protestant in such a situation."

to see

"I should be sorry, too," said the man, "if sorrow was of any use; but I have sinned against good advice, and it is fit I should suffer for it.

"Have you any friends?" asked the other.

"I had friends," said the man, "if my evil courses hav'nt broken their hearts."

"Do they live near this?" enquired Mr. S

or

is there any message you would wish to send them?" "Message," repeated the other," they shall never hear from me; when I entered on this life, I changed my name; my sin, if I can help it, will never be their shame."

said.

"I will pray with you," Mr. S "Of what use?" said the man with firmness, "I have given my days to the devil; I need not give my last night to God; that poor creature there may tell his beads, and thump his breast, and kiss his crucifix, and believe what the priest tells him; I know what God himself has said; that no unrighteous person shall see his face."

Mr. S, however, prevailed on him to hear a prayer or two, and left him in a better state of mind. Dennis, who had all this time been busied in addressing the gaping country-people outside, now hung about him with shouts and lamentations. He extricated himself from him with difficulty, nor could he for a long while reflect without astonishment on the

singular alternation of frantic sorrow, and thoughtless levity, of overflowing affection, and careless indifference, of dread of death, and anxiety about his funeral, which characterized the conduct of this poor creature. The following day he and his companion were put on a car, and brought, under the escort of a party of soldiers, to the neighbourhood where the robbery was committed. A gallows was erected in a field. The criminals were allowed to rest themselves for a few minutes in a cabin. They here, as is the universal custom of the unfortunate persons who are to be executed in Ireland, put on their dead dress. This consists of a shroud and cap, with a black ribbon, and gives a person clothed in it, the look of a spectre, as imagination forms it, or of a corpse newly raised from the tomb. Poor Dennis came out with a show of great fortitude; but it entirely forsook him when he cast his eyes on his fellow-sufferer, and beheld in him, as in a mirror, the reflection of his own funeral appearance. He uttered a wild shriek, and fell senseless on the ground. The reality of death seemed now, for the first time, fairly to have struck him. It seemed never to have made a thorough impression upon him, until presented thus to his imagination through the medium of his senses. When the car arrived at the fatal spot, he could scarcely be said to be alive; his eyes were closed, his heart scarcely beat, and all colour had left his face. The conduct of his fellow-sufferer -was calm and intrepid. Mr. S took a kind leave

of him, he was affected, and even felt his cheek moistened; he could not be mistaken, for by the force of sympathy, a tear started in the poor sufferer's eye; but heinstantly recovered himself, and shook Mr. Sby the hand. "I have lived the life of a brute," said he, "but I would wish to die like a man." Mr Srode to his own house, which was about seven miles from the place of execution. It was the latter end of summer. About dawning day, (grey morning as he poetically termed it) he was awakened by a noise in the room, he drew the curtains, a figure like one of the hanged men, in its shroud and dead cap, stood pale and sad at the window. He rubbed his eyes, he

strove to wake himself; he turned himself in the bed; he stretched himself forward, and endeavoured to penetrate the gloom; the figure of sleep did not, as he imagined it would, melt into thin air; it moved its eyes even, it opened and shut its mouth, it seemed preparing itself to speak. Nature was now too strong either for reason or philosophy; a cold damp bedewed his forehead, and he lay speechless and nearly senseless. The phantom approached the bed, and fell on its knees before him. "Master," said it," remember I have saved your life, now save mine.

It was Dennis, the poor hanged Dennis: bis fears had saved him. He had to be supported on the car as it was drawn slowly away, and he swung gently off; his fellow-sufferer threw himself off with violence, and was almost instantly dead. Dennis was likewise a tall man, the gallows was low, and his feet at times touched the ground. After hanging the limited time, he was cut down and given to his friends; he was carried to the nearest cabin, and as is almost always done in Ireland, all the vulgar methods in use were practised to recover him; his feet were put into warm water, he was blooded by a countryman with a rusty lancet, and rubbed with spirits, which were likewise applied to his nostrils and lips, and poured down his throat. He opened at length his eyes, and milk was given him from a woman's breast, which in Ireland is supposed to be a medicine of great efficacy.

When night came on, he resolved to go to his master's house, which, across the fields, was not more than four miles off. He was advised to lay aside his dead dress now that he had so unexpectedly returned among the living; but it was too valuable a piece of finery, and had cost Dennis too much oratory the preceding day, to be parted with so readily. He met nobody on the road; but if he had, his dress would have been his protection; for every one would have run from him as from a ghost. He might have gone in any dress, however, in security; few people in any country would be willing to lead to the gallows a man just escaped from it; few people in Ireland would re. fuse to run some risk to save him from it. He knew

well the room where his master slept, opened the window, and stepped into it, from the garden. Mr. Skept him for some time in his house, and then got him put on board a vessel bound to America, where he arrived in safety. He is at present a porter in Baltimore, is married, and the father of several children. When time has thrown its dark mantle over the origin of their family, the descendants of poor hanged Dennis may rank with the greatest in America.

To the Editor of the Pocket Magazine.

SIR,-The Provisional Committee for the encouragement of Industry, and Reduction of Poor's Rates* desires to acknowledge the receipt of most valuable information in reply to its former scheme of inquiries; in addition to which your insertion of the enclosed will much oblige. For the Provisional Committee, I have the honor to be, Sir,

King's Head, Poultry.
February 20th, 1819.

Your very Obedient Servant,
BENJAMIN WILLS,

ADDRESS.

Secretary.

THE Provisional Committee for Encouragement of Industry and Reduction of Poor's Rates solicits the co-operation of the reflecting and patriotic of the commercial, manufacturing, and mechanical portion of the community generally, on the following objects. 1. The committee desires to be assisted as above in devising and eliciting such modes of employment for the unoccupied as will not interfere with existing occupations,

2. For the further prevention or diminution of poor's rates, the furnishing employment for all capable of work. It is requested that communications be addressed to the Secretary,

King's Head, Poultry, London.

2

i

This is a subject of so much importance, and especi ally at the present moment, that we consider it as almost a duty to dedicate to it a few pages of our work.-ED.