honourable employment of robbing. To this end he gave them the most qualifying education in his power. He trained them carefully to a contempt for religion, for the laws of their country, and above all, for the appropriation of private wealth, such as money, cattle, and the like. Having laid this foundation, he now and then exercised them in the safer feats of bravery, and cruelty. One night particularly, to make an experiment of their capacities, he turned out his sons John and Peter, fastening in the best manner he could, both the front and back doors of his house, and giving them to understand, that there was no admittance, no supper, nor bed for them, without force. He took the defence of the front door upon himself, and to his wife assigned that of the back door, which was the stronger of the two, and had a better bar. The hopeful young men attacked the house with great fierceness, and the defence was made with equal firmness. However, after a vigorous contest, the heroes broke in. Peter knocked down his father, but John offered no violence to his mother, after forcing the door upon her. The father embracing his son Peter with a transport of affection, loaded him with praises, as a boy of most promising spirit; but, as to you, Shane (Shane is Irish for John), you are, said he, a poor soft-hearted wretch, or you would either have cut off your mother's nose, or broken her head. Peter is cut out for a great man, and you for a scrub. However, it was not long after this, that John as well as Peter, declared open war against his majesty, his subjects, and all his forces; or, in other words, commenced robbers. They collected money by forcible entries into houses where it was to be had, and on his majesty's own road; but the ferocity of Peter being restrained by the humanity of Shane, no murder was committed, nor any unnecessary violence offered to the persons of such as liked to sleep in a whole skin. It was in this period of his life, that John Donnelly became famous over all Ulster by the name of Shane Barnagh, the latter signifying, toothless, in Irish; for, it seems, he never had any teeth in his under jaw. At this time also the governors of Ireland had no other shift, than to offer a reward for the heads of those heroes, by public proclamation. Shane Barnagh, who was in some measure forced into this state of hostility with a kingdom by filial duty, and never

really liked it, obtained a promise from the going judges of assize to solicit a pardon for him and his brother, on their submitting and engaging to take the county of Tyrone under their keeping and protection. But ere this could be effected, two or three young Fermanagh men, allured by the reward, had the two brothers set, and gave them chase on the mountains near this place. Several shots on each side were exchanged; and the ammunition of the brothers first running out, Peter was shot in one of his legs, so that his agility began greatly to fail him. In this distress, he said to his brother, O Shane, surely you will not forsake me. The answer was worthy of memory; No, Peter, though I could easily escape, for our enemies begin to flag in their pursuit, I will live or die with you. Having said this, he lent an arm to Peter, and leading him round the skirt of a hill, they got out of sight of their pursuers, and then lay down in the heath, as no exertion of Barnagh's strength could carry his brother farther. The Fermanagh men, now resolving to give up the pursuit, an Irishman, who lived near the place, and had seen which way Shane Barnagh fled with his wounded brother, discovered to Armstrong, one of the tory-hunters, the place, or near it, where they lay concealed. Thither he went, and shot Peter through the head, which he had raised a little to examine, whether any one was in view. On this, Shane Barnagh started up, and presented his unloaded piece at Armstrong, who threw it up with his, ran in upon him, stabbed him with his own dagger, and gave him the coupe-de-grace in decollation, the end of a delinquent lord. Thus fell the Alexander of his age, as honest a man as he of Macedon, nothing near so great a robber; a robber of necessaries rather than of superfluities; more tender of human blood, and not less brave. Thus he fell, not poorly by excess in drinking, as that conqueror did, but by what the generality of mankind will call an excess of brotherly love and generosity. Had his education furnished him with better principles and habits; and had his fortune set him on a higher stage of action; it is probable, his whole life would have shone out with a lustre, similar to its conclusion, than which, nothing more noble can be pointed out in the most distinguished characters of ancient or modern history.

2. Our principles, opinions, sentiments, are the springs

of our actions; our actions, the springs of our happiness and misery. Too much care therefore cannot be employed in forming our principles, &c. Yet our principles, &c. are generally prescribed, almost at random, by prejudice or passion, as if they were of little or no moment to us. Reason, which should govern the choice of these, hath it imposed by blind dictators, and works upon them as axioms. Thus reason, enslaved to her natural servants, degenerates into cunning, instead of improving into wisdom; now cunning is nothing but artificial folly.

93. He who hopes his faults shall be spared for his good qualities and actions, must be miserably disappointed, when he finds the world so highly provoked at his virtues, as to give no quarter to his vices.

94. Cleanthes gave a hundred pounds to the poor relation of Zelotypus. I can never forgive Cleanthes, said Zelotypus, for doing that which, of all men, I should have been the first to do. It is often with some difficulty, that a man prevails on himself to do good, but with more, that he can get leave from others to do it, and with more still, that he bears the ill treatment, given him in return, by envy and ingratitude. But hath not every Christian fair warning given him of this latter difficulty, in these words; ' all that will live godly in Christ Jesus' (that is, that will do good)'shall suffer persecution,' as Christ and his apostles did, for doing the greatest good. Dare to be wise, saith Horace. Dare to be good, would be an excellent maxim in the mouth of a Christian.

95. The onset or irruption of very extraordinary occurrences frequently surprises a wise man into foolish, and a good man into bad actions. This is a weakness, to which all are liable, but they least, who by experience are familiarized to great things. Error too frequently assumes so fair a face of truth, that it would look like stupidity and obstinacy not to assent to that, which a little after, on better light, and maturer thoughts, we blush for having yielded to. The most knowing are the least apt to be caught in this snare. Faith in God alone, and vigilance over ourselves, are the best preservatives against both sorts of surprise. The mind that is at anchor on well grounded principles,

may be shook a little, but can neither be sunk in an abyss of vice, nor carried away by the winds of false doctrine.

96. The chief benefit we derive from the foresight of an inevitable misfortune, is that we are not surprised at its arrival, nor carried away into such excesses of grief or weakness, as must have happened had it seized us unawares. Many by anticipation extract almost the whole bitterness of an approaching evil, and so dilute it, as it were, with time, that when it comes, they suffer but little by it. Others through a melancholy turn of mind, so brood on an evil foreseen, and so magnify it in their imaginations, which they can in no degree restrain or govern, that, ere the dreaded event, they are wholly unmanned, and unable to stand the shock, which others would play with. The former are much better fitted to consult with a soothsayer than the latter. There is a class as large as both, already mentioned, perhaps consisting of all mankind, who so anticipate the joy of a happy event, foreseen, as to reduce it on arrival to an occurrence, almost indifferent to their feelings. These are apt to complain, that the enjoyments of this life are empty things; and so indeed they must be, if they are previously drained and exhausted by the pleasure of expectation. The proverb used with children, should be given in answer to such complaints, you cannot eat your bread and have it.

97. Not to be surprised into foolish or wicked actions by sudden temptations; not to be hurried into error by false appearances of truth, but to stay for examination; not to sink under unforeseen misfortunes; not to be indecently exalted by unhoped for occasions of comfort or joy; is true virtue, and constitutes the highest felicity this life can afford. There is no wise man who will not readily subscribe to this piece of philosophy. What then? is restraint (for all this is restraint) more conducive to human happiness than liberty? Yes, and there is no liberty (strange as the paradox may seem) without this restraint. No man is free but he who hath the power of self-government. Most true. But what is self-government, if not the power of right reason, exhibited in the exercise of coercion over the brutal, the exorbitant part of our nature? Now, not the

happiest natural disposition; not the utmost force of reason; not the most vigorous efforts of philosophy; not even the longest and most perfect experience, can raise the human mind to such an exemption from perturbation. Religion only can give us this power by lifting the eye, through faith, from the trifles that are seen, to the infinitely important things that are not seen, I mean, by any other eye than that which opens to itself the prospect of futurity. To this eye, cleared and taught by divine wisdom to see as that sees, the valleys of worldly poverty are raised, the mountains of worldly wealth and pomp lowered, and every thing here reduced almost to a plain. It is on this plain that Christ comes, with all the beauty of holiness, to a believing soul. Yet total indifference to this world is not possible, as long as we are surrounded with flesh and blood, and are still struggling with the passions and frailties of our present nature. Peter, through fear, denies his Master, and prevaricates in presence of the judaizing Christians; yet Peter dies on the cross for Christ and Christian truth.

98. The ambitious, who climbs the hill of worldly power and grandeur, feels the storms of passion and fortune growing more boisterous the higher he ascends; and at the top finds but a point to stand on, where if it were calm, the giddiness of his head, at such a height would put it out of his power to balance. How difficult then must it be for him so to poise himself, and root his feet, as not to be thrown headlong, when passion and fortune play off their whole artillery on him with greater fury than ever? Had it not been better for him to have kept in the valley? The ambitious, who climbs the hill of religion and virtue, feels the storms of passion and corruption increase upon him only to a height not at all considerable; above which, if he can surmount it, he perceives the air settling, his prospect widening, and the hill thrusting its head, still higher, into a region serene and bright, and finds in himself a stronger tendency upward, than his natural heaviness formerly gave him downward. Virtue then is higher than power, by all that elevation, which rises above the region of passion.

99. It is generally easier to speak for truth, than against it, because the arguments which support a truth are at hand, are naturally convincing; whereas error cannot be upheld,