of her oppressor regard as mad, or light headed, or at least, a dangerous associate where the favour of the favourite of the tool of the tyrant is the stake for which men play; one whom some tolerate, and some despise, and overlook, and some pretend to overlook in the bloated vanity of their little understandings, but whom those who can value honour, or prize independence, or appreciate the purest and most exalted feelings with which the soul of man ever glowed or burned or burst, will love with a love the most absorbing of which the human heart is susceptible. Yes, Tom Steele is still alive, and long may he live to cherish the disinterested patriotism of which he is the rare, if not the solitary model. Tom Steele is a character whom but few understand; and well would it be if those who understand him not, would keep a befitting silence upon the subject of their ignorance. He was born too late to be appreciated by his contemporaries, perhaps by posterity. When chivalry was in vogue he might have died, like many a chivalrous soul before him, nor left a monument more durable than the grief of friends over departed worth and genius, or he might have bequeathed a name to posterity which the wise, and the good, and the noble should shout out when a rally was to be wrought against baseness, or crime, or hypocrisy. At present he can only reckon upon the former close to his existence. The world is degenerate! the base minions of passing power can commend its applause, or, to speak its highest panegyric, success can throw weakness or crime into the deepest shade, while hearts the most pure, and heads the most enterprising, may toil unhonoured for truth and rectitude. Some there are, nor may their names be lightly spoken, who struggle for Ireland and humanity with zeal as ardent; but their patriotism is as much the effect of judgment as of feeling. Steele's actions and sentiments owe all their energy to feeling deep as the darkest depth of ocean, nor less overpowering in its swell ;from it they derive all their power,-on it must repose all their claims to respect, to honour and to fame. Drudges of earth,—you whose eyes are bleared with sordid traffic, laugh! I shall not prevent you. "You have your riches, and you ask no more; Ye noble victims in a noble game! Heap up your riches on your garner floor, And there is nothing common to you both." If ever a city realise his own fond appellation, in " the city of the soul," a monument shall be raised, based upon the affections of unsophisticated hearts, and towering above the clouds of low born envy, or high born disdain, and upon it shall be engraven, in letters of living fire,-TOM STEELE, THE DISINTERESTED PATRIOT. THE NEWSPAPERS. Sir Fretful Plagiary." The Newspapers! Sir, they are the most villainous, licentious, abo. minable, infernal-Not that I ever read them-no, I make it a rule never to look into a Newspaper."-THE CRITIC. In two former articles, which duly appeared in the Irish Monthly, I celebrated the languid inanity of that important class, the "Loungers," and dilated upon the inquisitive indolence of their no less valuable brethren, the "Quid Nuncs." If I now commence a third article, and take for my subject the Newspapers, I most unequivocally disclaim any intention of dealing with them in the same spirit, either from the sense of duty, or the leaning of inclination. If either the Loungers or the Quid Nuncs boast of any connexion with Newspapers, it can be only upon the same terms as those described by SWIFT, who said of some people, whom he accused of knowing books as they knew lords, namely, by getting their titles by heart, and then boasting of their acquaintance. Entertaining a Swift-like contempt for the wretches who would endeavour to pawn themselves on the world upon such terms, and believing the Loungers to be a useless, and the Quid Nuncs a tiresome mob of well dressed gentlemen, I deem any extraordinary address unnecessary to satisfy my editorial friends, that although the "Newspapers" follow the Loungers and Quid Nuncs, still nothing invidious is meant by the arrangement. For the Newspapers, one and all, I entertain a respect, deep, profound. I never yet encountered that mighty machine by which they receive their" form and pressure," that I did not bow my head in humble deference; and I never shall forget the feelings of admiration, almost amounting to veneration, which I experienced when first I beheld a steam machine press at Bolt-court, Fleet-street, London.— Holding such opinions for the very machinery of the press, how can it be suspected that I could speak or write disrespectfully upon what is its very offspring-the Newspapers. The Liberty of the Press, as is remarked by one of the contributors of the Irish Monthly, is an expression in very general use; but the knowledge of whose rational signification is confined to a very few. Without dissenting from the definition which is given by that writer, I must be allowed to express my own ideas upon the subject. If by the Liberty of the Press, the freedom of that mighty engine, so called, is meant, I utterly deny that its existence was, by any law of these kingdoms, ever put in jeopardy. In the most despotic times it never was assailed-it stood its ground, undisturbed by all the laws which were founded to destroy its existence. The Press is the parent of the Newspapers, and yet the sins of the former are charged upon the latter. The wisdom of our ancestors was satisfied by destroying the progeny, whenever it assumed a seditious character, while, with a providential consideration, the source itself was left undisturbed. I must not, however, degenerate into a dull digression upon the law of libel, when my subject is the Newspapers alone. I intend to confine myself to their individuality-their titles, talents, &c. &c. With respect to their titles, I have often been amused at the magnificent appellations in which they rejoice The GLOBE itself scarcely affords a cognomen sufficiently enlarged for a certain evening paper, which emanates from the Strand. The WORLD and the ATLAS have been likewise put into requisition for hebdomadal publication, and with a propriety of time for which so matter-a-fact a nation would scarcely be suspected, the SUN appears every evening, when that part of the earth upon which it circulates is shrouded in darkness! COURIERS, HERALDS, and Posts, are all in character; they belong to this earth, and are easily recognised; but Stars, and Suns, and such farfetched names, are utterly absurd, when bestowed upon publications of this nature. The Moon, however, is the only orb which has not stood sponsor for some one of them; her votaries usually shun any apparent connexion with her, and are mostly to be found in the service of other luminaries. If sober John Bull has adopted the ridiculous ambition of aiming at high-sounding names for his Newspapers, how could the poetic Irish be supposed to adopt less pompous titles? and yet in their selection of them they have displayed a decidedly better taste. It is true that the principles of the papers are not always in strict accordance with their names, for I remember when the Freeman was a pensioner, and the Patriot a venal Castle-hack-but these discrepancies arose, perhaps, more from the degeneracy of their temporary conductors, than the design of the original projectors. I have often been amused at observing a meeting of provincial papers upon a metropolitan editor's table-the variety and importance of their titles. What Free Presses and Independents!—the former scarcely daring to assert a spirited sentiment, and the latter, "things made up of shreds and patches" from the columns of their contemporaries-oh, freedom and independence, how often are ye travestied by" our provincial friends." The most impudent of all political assumptions which I remember to have remarked, was that of the Ballina Impartial, which, in its own obscure way, was the most prejudiced of all the provincials during the agitation of the Catholic question. Unintelligible Telegraphs-Correspondents which never afford an epistle-Mirrors which never reflect the public mind, and Chronicles which cannot be relied on, make up the list of "country gentlemen who write." Having thus touched upon their titles, I come now to their talents-but, no! it would be both invidious and ungracious to dwell upon this part of the subject; I will only record the profound respect which I entertain for the talent and erudition which they display, matitutinally, nocturnally, and hebdomadally. I like the size of our Irish papers-they are a medium between the overgrown English journals, and the scanty dimensions of the French. Prince Puckler Muskau compares the Times to a table-cloth in point of magnitude, but the plodding Briton requires a broad sheet, in order to kill time by travelling over it. A stranger when he first takes a nocturnal ramble through the streets of Dublin, would soon be convinced that he was amongst a people of politicians, by the number and variety of the journals which he hears cried for sale. The venders of our journals are a peculiar class in themselves-like the publications by which they live, they are diurnal and nocturnal. The diurnals make out life by hiring the journals to their customers during the day, and disposing of them to the best advantage after they have performed that service. They are, generally speaking, a decent and orderly class of persons, comprising the youth and age of both sexes. Between these and the nocturnals there is, however, some difference. This latter class lives by vending the evening papers, and as the most of their labours are performed in the shade of night, they are not very particular as to the style or quality of their habiliments. The moment when publication begins they make a sortie from the quarter in which the papers are printed, and, taking different directions, " vex the dull ear of night" by vociferating their titles. The elements, although enraged, are unable to deter them from proceeding, and it must be a storm indeed which would keep the Pilot at home, or stop the Mail on its evening expedition. Partaking of that turn for wit which distinguishes the lower order of the Irish, the newsmen assume a portion of that consequence which almost all other literary characters equally display-they argue that but for their services the public would not have the benefit of the intelligence which they are the intermediate agents in disseminating, and although editors and printers may be very essential characters in the manufacture of newspapers, still if there were no mercurial circulators, they would remain as useless as heaps of marl upon a barren moor, encumbering what they could not fertilize." 66 I once heard a very delicate compliment paid to a lady by one of those characters. A group of the lads was standing at the usual rendezvous in College-green, intimating the names of their different journals, amongst which "The Morning Star," a meteoric contemporary, was not the least vociferous. A young lady, habited in the sables of grief, approached, whose beauty attracted even the attention of the rude throng, one amongst whom, more happy than the rest, as she drew near him, cried out," The Mourning Star!" There is no city which for its extent and population furnishes so few facilities for acquiring information as Dublin-there is but one respectable reading-room open to the public (the Northumberland), and there is scarcely a coffee-room in which a gentleman could be seen. The reading-rooms in London greatly contribute to the independence which every lonely sojourner there may enjoy-they are supplied with all the London and several of the foreign papers, periodicals, and minor publications in great abundance; even the cigar divans, those saloons of smoke, are redeemed from the stupid character which the name implies, by the intellectual recreations which are to be found within them, the variety and selection of which often induce persons who are not addicted to the savory leaf to be their most constant frequenters. I remember once heartily laughing at the place given to the Irish paper which is taken in at the saloon of the cigar divan at the Strand: the apartment is furnished with round tables, upon which the periodicals of different countries are classified. I saw the English and Scotch papers congregated together in formidable array, but I found the Dublin Freeman upon the board appointed to sustain the foreign journals! So seldom are the Irish papers seen in England, that some of the natives imagine that they are written in the national language, and printed in the Irish character. A literary friend of mine once observing a gentleman very impatiently calling for a paper in one of the reading-rooms in London, asked him if he would like to see an Irish paper, which he offered to him at the same time; but to his astonishment, the proffered journal was politely declined by the latter, who gave as a reason for the rejection, that he did not understand the language! They manage those things better in France, however. Attached to every hotel in Paris, is a Cabinet de Lecture, (reading-room,) where the visitor is accommodated with the perusal of as many papers as he pleases, for the charge of one sou each. As you walk along les rues at night, you remark, on every side, a transparent lantern, inscribed, Cabinet de Lecture, at the entrances to these repositories of instruction; and on the public promenades, gardens, Boulevards, &c. you will find stalls, like sentry-boxes, in which a femme usually presides, who is ready to accommodate you with your favourite paper, and a seat upon which to peruse it, for the moderate remuneration of one sou. In the Palais Royale there is a very convenient institution, where you can be relieved from any obnoxious Parisian mud that may have spoiled the civilized appearance of your boots, and even when you are undergoing the operation, which is performed without giving you the trouble of pulling them off, the polished professor of polishing presents you with a journal. By such means every rank is enabled to derive instruction from the sources of a talented press; and the press is supported by the general contributions of the people, from the wealthy abonnet (subscriber) upon whose breakfast-table his journal is laid in an unsoiled state of impression, to the poor charbonnier, who, when his labour is over for the day, takes a sou worth of information from one which has been turned over by an hundred others in the Cabinet de Lecture. I have often been highly amused at the strange notions upon Irish politics which the foreign journals sometimes display. Particularly the speculations of their correspondents, who are generally either Frenchmen or Italians residing in London. I remember once to have read a sage prognostication of one of the scribes-that the appointment of Lord Anglesey to the command in Ireland, would put down the anti-union agitation. The thing would be spoiled by a translation, so I will give it in its native garb : "Les nouvelles d'Irlande ne sont pas rassurantes. Les clubs antiunionistes s'organisent régulièrement, et le chef des ces conspirateurs est toutjours M. O'Connell. On espère que lorsque Lord Anglesey sera installè a Dublin les choses prendront un nouvel aspect, mais jusqu'a present tous les comtès du nord et du midi de l'Irlande donnent de vives inquiètudes aux nouveaux ministres de S. M. B."-Le Constitutionnel, 27th Dec. 1830. Upon the subject of "Private Correspondence," as it exists between Ireland and the London Press, I have some remarks to make, which I will reserve for a future number of the Irish Monthly. |