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indented with defaced inscriptions, and covering the remnants of the early masters of the domain, just uplifted their mouldering sides from among weeds and briers, and half disclosed the only objects which could render that cemetery interesting. One melancholy yew-tree, spreading wide its straggling branches over the tombs of its former lords, and the nave of an ancient chapel, its own hollow trunk proclaiming that it could not long survive, seemed to await in solemn augury the honour of expiring with the last scion of its hereditary chieftains.

Hartpole's fortune on the death of his father was not large; but its increase would be great and certain, and this rendered his adoption of any money-making profession unnecessary. He accordingly purchased a commission in the army, and commenced his entré into military life and general society with all the advantages of birth, property, manners, and character. The adventure which clouded all his future life began

soon.

While quartered with his regiment at Galway in Ireland, his gun, on a shooting party, burst in his hand, which was so shattered, that it was long before his surgeon could decide that amputation might be dispensed with. During his protracted indisposition, he was confined to his chamber at a small inn, such as Ireland then exhibited in provincial towns. The host, whose name was Sleven, had two daughters, who both assisted in the business. The elder, Honor, had long been celebrated as a rough wit, the cleverest of all her female contemporaries; and the Bar, on circuits, frequented her father's house, for the amusement of her repartees. Besides entertaining the Bar, she occasionally amused the Judges also; and Lord Yelverton, the Chief Baron, who admired wit in any body, was Honor's greatest partisan.

Mary, the younger sister, was of a different appearance and habits. She was as mild and unassuming as from her occupation could be expected. Though destitute of any kind of talent, she yet appeared as if something better born than Honor, and her attention to the guests was at the same time assiduous, but properly

reserved. It must have been remarked, that in the manners of provincial towns, the distinctions of society are frequently suspended by the necessary familiarity of a contracted circle, and that inferior females frequently excite emotions of tenderness, which in a metropolis would never have been thought of. Here the evil genius of Hartpole was awake.

Throughout his painful and harassing confinement, the more than assiduous care of Mary Sleven could not escape the observation of the convalescent. Mary was well-looking, he was not permitted to have society; and thus being left alone with this young female for many weeks of pain and solitude, and accustomed to the solicitude of woman, so exquisite to man in every state of suffering, Hartpole discovered that a feeling of gratitude of the highest order had sunk deeper than he wished within his bosom. He could not but perceive, indeed, that the girl actually loved him, and his vanity of course was alive to the disclosure; but his honourable principles prevented him from taking any advantage of that weakness, which she could not conceal, and to which he could not be blind.

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Meanwhile the keen masculine understanding of Honor soon perceived the game which it would be in her power to play, and conceived a project whereby to wind up Hartpole's feelings to the pitch she wanted, and insensibly lead his gratitude to love, and his love to matrimony. This was Honor's aim, but she overrated her own penetration, and deceived herself as to Hartpole's character. length, awakened from his vision of romantic gratitude, and beginning to open his eyes to the views of the two women, he felt ashamed of his facility, and mustered up sufficient resolution to rescue himself from the toils they were spreading for his capture. He had never made any species of proposal to Mary, and she could not, with justice or honest hope, look to marriage with a person so greatly her superior. On his perfect recovery, he determined, by going over to England, to avoid all their machinations, and he also determined that his departure should be abrupt.

The keen and rapid eye of the designing Honor, however, soon disco

vered the secret of his thoughts, and guessing the extent of his resolution, she artfully impressed on him, under the affectation of concealing it, the entire attachment of her pining sister, but at the same time communicated Mary's resolution to be seen by him no more," since it would be useless further to distract her devoted heart, by cultivating society from which she must so soon be separated for ever."

Here Honor was again mistaken. No melting looks, no female blandishments, now intervened to oppose his pride, or stagger his resolution. He had only to struggle with himself. And after a day and night of calm reflection, he fully conquered the dangers of his high-flown gratitude, and departed at daybreak from the inn, without even desiring to see the love-lorn Mary. He had paid munificently for the trouble he had given; written a letter of grateful thanks to Mary; left her a considerable present, and set off to Dublin to take immediate shipping for England. Hartpole now congratulated himself on his escape from the sarcasms of the world, the scorn of his family, and his own self-condemnation; he had done nothing wrong, and he had once more secured the rank in society which he had been in danger of relinquishing. In Dublin he stopped at the Marine Hotel, whence the packet was to sail at midnight, and considered himself as already on the road to London.

The time of embarkation had nearly arrived, when a loud shriek issued from an adjoining chamber of the Hotel. Ever alive to any adventure, Hartpole rushed into the room, and beheld-Mary Sleven! She was, or affected to be, fainting, and was supported by the artful Honor, who hung over her, apparently regardless of all other objects, and bemoaning in low accents the miserable fate of her deserted sister. Bewildered by both the nature and suddenness of this rencontre, Hartpole acknowledged afterwards, that, for the moment, he nearly lost his sight, nay, almost his reason. But he soon saw through the scheme, and mustered up suffi. cient courage to withdraw without explanation. He was in fact outside the door of the Hotel, the boat being ready to receive him, when a second and more violent shriek was

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heard from the room he had just quitted, accompanied by exclamations of "She's gone, she's gone!" Hartpole's presence of mind entirely forsook him. He retraced his steps; and found Mary lying, as it should seem, quite senseless, in the arms of Honor. His evil genius profited by the advantage, and he assisted to restore her. Gradually her eyes opened. She regarded George wildly but intently, and having caught his eye, closed her's again, a languid, and, as it were, involuntary, pressure of the hand, conveying to him her sensations. As she slowly recovered, the scene became more interesting. medical man being (by preconcert) at hand, he ordered her restorative cordials. Madeira alone could at that moment be procured. She put the glass to her mouth, sipped, looked tenderly at Hartpole, and offered it to him. He sipped also, the patient smiled, the Doctor took a glass; Hartpole pledged him; glass followed glass, until he was bewildered. The artful Honor soon substituted another bottle; it was Hartpole's first wine after his accident, and it quickly mounted to his brain. Thus did an hour flit away. In the meantime the packet had sailed. Another person also affected to have lost his passage while occupied about the patient, and this turned out to be a Roman Catholic priest. Refreshments were ordered; the doctor and the priest were pressed to partake of the fare; the Madeira was replenished; the moments flew; the young man's brain was inflamed; and when the morning sun arose, it arose not on the happy George, but on the happy Mary, the wedded wife of Hartpole.

Strange as this rapidity of proceeding may seem to English apprehensions, it was by no means without precedents in Irish country life. The facility of marriage, when a Popish priest was always at hand, generally, indeed, a guest at every rough festivity of the common people, the formality of licenses or banns little understood and still less cared for, and the spirit of frolic always uppermost, many a marriage was the work of an evening's dance, seconded by a due quantity of intoxication. Abduction was equally the habit where the gentleman's inclinations were more to be consulted than the lady's; and the rich farmer who had an only

daughter, must bar his door much more carefully to keep out a banditti of lovers, than of housebreakers. A dozen of young rustics, well mounted, made an assault at midnight, carried off the lady behind one of them, and thirty or forty miles off, in the heart of a bog or a mountain, had a priest ready, who married the parties at once, and thenceforth they were beyond the reach of parental prohibition. This was one of the relics of the Celtic barbarism which once overspread all Europe, and which exists in all the half savage countries of the North to this day. But in Ireland it often excited a desperate retribution, and is now among the offences which bring down the heaviest vengeance of the law.

Hartpole's feelings, when he awoke and found himself completely duped, were indescribable. But he had not strength of mind sufficient to resist the entreaties, arguments, and, above all, the consciousness of his own folly, which assailed him ; he submitted to his own act, gave up the idea of flight, and returned with the triumphant sisters. But the policy of the whole affair was as unfortunate as it was criminal. None of his family would ever visit Hartpole's wife, and he sank dispirited and disgraced. After two years' struggle, however, between his feelings for her, and his aspirations after a more honourable station in society, the conspiracy which had effected his ruin being by chance discovered, a revulsion followed, the conflict in his breast became keener, and at length his pride and resolution prevailing, he determined, after providing amply for his wife, to apply to that statute which declares null and void all marriages between a Protestant and a Roman Catholic, solemnized only by a Popish priest. But he unluckily still lingered as to the execution of his resolve. The sisters could not deny that he had been inveigled; and Mary had already made up her mind, should he stand firm, to accept of a liberal provision, and submit to the legal sentence, which, indeed, could not be resisted.

But this the coarse and vulgar mind of Honor refused. She irritated her sister almost to madness: in this state her characteristic mildness forsook her; she became jealous of

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all women, and daily lavished abuse on the passive and wretched Hartpole. One morning," says Sir Jonah, "in Dublin, where they were residing, he came to my house in a state of trembling perturbation. He shewed me a wound on his hand, and another slight one from a knife, indented on his breastbone. Mary, he said, had, in a paroxysm of rage, attempted to stab him while sitting at breakfast; he had, with difficulty, wrested the knife from her grasp, and left the house, with a determination never to return to it. He could, in fact, no longer feel safe in her society, and therefore he immediately repaired to Edinburgh, where his regiment was quartered. The suit for a decree of nullity was immediately commenced, but no effective proceedings were ever taken, owing to events still more unfortunate to poor Hartpole. He was still in delicate health. On his return from Scotland he repaired to Clifton, to drink the waters, for a severe cold, which required medical advice and a balmy atmosphere.

"At Clifton, my friend made the acquaintance of a lady and gentleman, in whose only daughter were combined all the attractive qualities of youth, loveliness, and amiability. Their possessor moved in a sphere calculated to gratify his pride; and those who saw and knew the object of George's new attachment, could feel no surprise at the vehemence of his passion. The unfortunate young man, however, sorely felt that his situation under those circumstances was even more painful than on the former occasion. Loving one woman to adoration, and yet the acknowledged husband of another, it is not easy to conceive a state more distracting to a man of honour. He required of my friendship to advise him. All I could properly advise him to, was what I knew he would not comply with; namely, to come over to Ireland, and endeavour to conquer the influence of his passion, or, at least, take no decisive step in divulging it, till the law had pronounced its sentence on his existing connexion." Sir Jonah proceeds to detail the embarrassments of his friend in getting rid of the marriage, which had been so adroitly fastened upon him, and his own embarrassment in calling on the father of the

lady, Colonel Cook Otway, for the purpose of explaining the affair. He plainly enough told the Colonel that the marriage existed, and that no sentence had yet been pronounced to nullify it, though in point of law it had no existence whatever. But the Colonel was a philosopher, whom nothing could surprise." Having heard me throughout, with the greatest complacency, he took me by the hand, 'My dear sir,' said he, with a smile which at first surprised me, 'I am happy to tell you that I was fully apprized before I returned to Ireland, of every circumstance you have related to me as to that woman, and had taken the opinions of several eminent practitioners on the point, each of whom gave, without any hesitation, the same opinion exactly which you have done. My mind was therefore easy on the subject before I left England, and I do not consider the circumstance any impediment to the present negotiation.' It is not easy to describe the relief this afforded me, though at the same time, I must own, I was astonished at this nonchalance. We parted in excellent humour with each other, the negotiation went on, Miss Sleven was no more regarded, the terms were agreed on, and the settlements proposed."

Then follows a trait of the wellknown Dr Duiguenan, who made himself so conspicuous in the early debates on the Roman Catholic question, as the antagonist of Grattan. As it was necessary to apply for a license to the Prerogative Court, for the marriage, in the city of Dublin, Hartpole and his uncle, one of the Stratfords, attended upon the Doctor, who was Judge of the Court. On their arrival in his presence, (he never pretended to know any body in Court,) he asked, "Who those people were?" and upon being informed, proceeded to enquire "what business brought them there." The Hon. Benjamin Stratford replied, "That he wanted a marriage license for his nephew George Hartpole, Esq. of Shrewl Castle, and Miss Maria Otway, of Castle Otway, County Tipperary." He had scarcely uttered the words, when the Doctor, rising, with the utmost vehemence roared out, 66 George Hart pole, George Hartpole! is that the rascal who has another wife living?"

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George, struck motionless, shrunk within himself. But Benjamin, not being so easily frightened, said something equally warm; whereupon the Doctor, without further ceremony, rushed at him, seized him by the collar, and cried, "Do you want me to countenance bigamy, you villains?" At the same time roaring to his crier and servants, to the fellows out," which order, if not literally, was virtually performed, and the petitioners congratulated themselves on their fortunate escape from so outrageous a Judge of Prerogative. The fact was, a suit in nullity had been actually commenced in the Court; but its merits never having been stated, the Judge only knew Hartpole as a married man; and it certainly could not appear very correct of the Honourable Benjamin to apply to the same Judge who was to try the validity of the first marriage, to grant his license for a second, while the question remained undecided. On Hartpole's mind the circumstance made an indelible impression, and he never afterwards took any further proceedings in the cause.

The career of this luckless young man was now hastening to a close. His new wife seems to have been as childish as she was pretty. She could not live without her mother; family quarrels thickened; Hartpole found that he had saddled himself with two families instead of one; the result was, within a few months, a separa◄ tion, with complaints of jealousy on the gentleman's side, of coquetry on the wife's, and on both of total unsuitableness. Another cause arose in the shape of his own feeble health, he was sinking into a consumption, and he shortly embarked for Portugal, once the customary expedient of medical men when nothing could be done for their patients, but to consign them to death by a sailing order to the South. Even there another vexation befell him. On his marriage he had given his commission to a brother of his wife. But on his separation, he resumed the profession, and purchased into a regiment raised by his uncle, the late Lord Aldborough. After he had been a short time in Lisbon, some mischievous, or foolish person wrote to his uncle that he had been dead a fortnight. The Aldborough spirit

was always the same, and his Lordship, without further enquiry, sold the commission; and the statement, of course, got into the newspapers, with the mention that he had died of a consumption, and giving the name of his successor in the regiment. Hartpole was actually reacquiring health at Lisbon, when taking up, one day, an English paper, his eye alighted upon the paragraph. "His valet," says Sir Jonah, coarsely described to me the instantaneous effect of this paragraph upon his mind. It seemed to proclaim his fate by anticipation; he totally relapsed. I firmly believe it was his death-blow.

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"After lingering several months longer he returned to England, and I received a letter requesting me to meet him without delay at Bristol, and stating that he had made his will. I immediately undertook the journey. I found him emaciated to the last degree, and rapidly sinking into the grave. He had however declined but little in appetite, when the disorder fixed in his throat, and he ceased to have the power of eating; he now entirely gave himself up as a person who must die of hunger. This melancholy scene almost distracted me. Hartpole himself, though reduced to such a state, was really the most cheerful of the party, evincing a degree of resignation at once heroic and touching. On the morning of his death he sent for me to rise and come to him. I found him in an agony of hunger; perspiration in large drops rolling down his face. I cannot describe my emotion. He walked about the room and spoke to me earnestly on many subjects, on some of which I have been, and ever shall be, totally silent. At length he called me to the window, 'Barrington,' said he, 'you see at a distance a very green field; well, it is my dying request that I may be buried there to morrow evening!" He spoke so calmly and strongly that I felt much surprised. He observed this, and said 'It is true, I am in the agonies of death.' I now called in his servant and the doctor; the invalid sat down upon the bed; when he caught my hand I shuddered, for it was burning hot, and every nerve seemed to be in spasmodic action. He pressed it with great fervour, and murmured, 'My friend;' those were

the last words I heard him utter; I looked in his face, his eyes were glazed; he laid his head on the pillow and expired! This awful scene, so perfectly new, overpowered me, and for a few minutes I was insensible. I disobeyed Hartpole's injunctions respecting his funeral, for I had his body enclosed in a leaden coffin and sent to Threwl Castle.

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"On the reading of the will, his first bequest was to his friend Barrington six thousand pounds,' together with the reversion of his landed estates and collieries by moieties on the death of his sisters without children. His uncles would not act as executors, considered me as an interloper, and commenced a suit to annul the will, as prepared under undue influence. Fortunately for my reputation I had never known, nor even seen, the persons who prepared it. I was in another kingdom at the time, and had not seen Hartpole for many months before its execution. His sister was with him, not I. I was utterly unacquainted with the will and its contents. got a decree without delay. The family of Stratford, who preferred law to all other species of pastime, appealed. My decree was confirmed, and they were burdened with the whole costs, and in effect paid me L.6000, on an amicable arrangement. My reversion yielded me nothing, for I fancy the sisters have since had between them twenty children to inherit it. I had looked to nothing from my friend beyond a mourning ring. He left numerous other bequests, with a considerable one to Mary Sleven, whose fate I never heard. Maria Otway, within two years after Hartpole's decease, married the member for the county, but at the age of twenty-three she died in child-birth. something of strange augury connected with all that had belonged to Hartpole; it was said that after his relict's death, a prediction of that event was found, written by herself six months before, stating the exact time of her departure."

There was

Memoirs of eminent men are among the most delightful of all studies, and the most interesting portion of those memoirs frequently is found in the contrast of their early and their matured career. Chatham or William Pitt in boyhood, would be scarcely

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