carry this resolution into effect. So much, however, had the ascendancy which he always possessed over his friends' minds, been encreased by suffering, and so much had his character acquired, even of dignity, that he was now yielded to, as one who walked already by a heavenly light, and who was not to be confined within ordinary rules or limits. Before he departed, he had exacted a promise that the engagement with M'Manus had been fulfilled, although he would not remain to assist at the solemnity. Accordingly, a short time after, Mary became a bride, and removed to her husband's house; and the mother and Denis continued to live together, ignorant of Michael's place of abode, and endeavouring to comfort themselves with a hope that they should see him again. At last, even that uncertain hope was given up, and the widow was brought to believe that her son was dead. The chamber allocated for him had been, with almost religious care, preserved from other appropriation. The poor mother was scrupulous in her attention to it-the books were kept in order, and all its little furniture had retained the air of neatness which had been given to it, when more cheering prospects seemed to present themselves than were now realised. The only use in which the chamber was employed, was that of a chapel or oratory, and there Denis and his mother performed their devotions. Sometimes the prayers of the poor widow were continued until a late hour at night, after Denis had retired to rest, and sometimes she continued, in forgetfulness even of her sorrows, sitting in the chair which her son had occupied while he pursued his unhappily interrupted studies. He had been unseen and unheard of for nearly a year, and his mother was absorbed in her customary meditations, when the incident occurred which caused her belief that, on this earth, she was no more to see him. It was a calm, warm night in May, the moon was near the full, and its beams, unimpeded by mist or clouds, diffused around a softer and scarcely fainter light than of the day. The ruins of the abbey on the rock of Cashel were visible, and rendered the night more solemn; but the widow's eye would not rest upon them, painful thoughts were rendered still more affecting by the remembrances which that ruin called forth, and she withdrew her looks from the prospect of it. They are widely mistaken who imagine that the poor do not moralize on the appearances and the changes which creation exhibits. Among those who are little acquainted with other books, that of life and nature have many intelligent readers. That sympathy, of which philosophers write so learnedly, between external objects and the human heart, is felt not less vividly among the poor than among those who can better analyse their sensations, and when the Widow Cormac, affrighted almost, by the awful ruin on which her eyes first fell, shrunk back into herself, she felt as if the rose-bush at the partially opened window, which at that moment wafted a rich perfume to her, uttered a voluntary and intelligent consolation; "kind, kind and considerate flower," said she, "do you know my sorrow, and do you comfort my afflicted heart. Oh! if he knew it, and was upon this earth, seas would not keep him from me; and Michael, my dear," continued she, as if she were addressing her son, "'tis hard to think, that leaving them that love you, and breaking the heart of her that bore you, is a good deed to do; but God before me, it is my sense that speaks, 'tis my poor sorrowful nature, and grief changes us, and it is not the one heart or the one nature we have; sure it is not I that would find fault with the poor holy child, and he having his own hardship; but if he knew my misery, he'd feel for me; you would, my own Michael, God, pity you, and send his blessing about you." Michael stood before her at the window-his head and feet barehis arms stretched upwards, and his head raised to heaven, as if he invoked a blessing on her. It was but for a moment-she screamed loudly, and fell upon the floor. Denis, alarmed, rushed into the room and beheld the apparition at the window; but instantly it vanished, and, occupied in his mother's recovery, he saw it no further. When restored to her senses, she recounted what she had seen, and expressed her opinion that a vision had been sent to her. NEW YEAR'S DAY, OR OUR FIRST NUMBER. "Up rouse ye then, my merry merry men, The commencement of a new year, is a period at the approach of which every one feels more or less of interest. There is a something in the passing away for ever of one year and the succession of another, with all its unknown events of good and ill, which naturally disposes the mind to reflection and to thought. And though the first day of the year be in itself no more than any other, and the commencement of the annual revolution of time be but an artificial period, still the fiction, like many others, possesses all the influence and vividness of reality; and on the first of January we feel as if the sun had indeed returned to the place from which he came, and was once more preparing to set out, invigorated and fresh, upon his yearly path, rejoicing as a giant to run his course. There have been new-year's days when we have felt all that imaginative and pleasing melancholy to which we have alluded. In our early days, when free and light-hearted, "we took no note of time but by its loss." The return of this day served as a memento of its flight, and reminded us that our years were hurrying away, and those days were coming in which we should say we have no pleasure in them. But now our emotions are of a far different nature, our interest in this day proceeds from far different sources. It is as Editors that we regard it with feelings of intense anxiety, as the day upon which we appear before the public to solicit their favour for our work, and all our pretty sentiments and sage reflections are forgotten in our meditations upon that all-absorbing topic-the success of our Magazine. And we trust, gentle reader, we will stand excused in your eyes if, even upon this day we detain you for a short time upon a subject of personal interest to ourselves, and if in our pages you have found either instruction or amusement, we only ask in return, that before you throw aside our book you will bear with us for a short time while we speak of ourselves. Nay, to our Irish readers we trust that even this apology is unnecessary, for we hope better things of their patriotism than to believe them indifferent to the progress of our Irish periodical, and we would fain regard every one of our countrymen as well-wishers to our undertaking, and personally, or at least nationally, interested in its success. 66 a Our Magazine is now before the public, and they can judge for themselves. After many embarrassments and many difficulties, of which no one has known but ourselves, and with much personal exertion, the labour of which none but those who have engaged in a similar attempt can fully estimate, we have succeeded in producing our work, and all we ask now is what every publication has a right to demand, fair field and no favour." We do not mean to reject the partiality of kindness, or defy the severity of criticism, neither do we mean to waive the strong claims which an Irish periodical has upon every well-wisher to the literature of his country; but this we do mean to say, that if we do not produce so good a Magazine as could be expected under the many disadvantages which attend such an undertaking in this country, then let us be at once, without favour or affection, consigned to the tomb of all the Capulets, and a better and more efficient one substituted in our stead. When we speak of the disadvantages that attend a literary periodical in Dublin, we would not be understood to imply, that in the nature of the undertaking of itself there is any thing which attaches to it a peculiar degree of difficulty. But it must be remembered that every failure increases the peril of a subsequent attempt. And now when numberless Irish periodicals have already failed, in estimating our embarrassments, it must be taken into consideration, that we appear like the descendants of some prescribed race, with the sins of many generations upon our heads. 'Tis true, that we have not begun to build our tower without counting well the cost, and we think that we have materials sufficient for the work; yet it is a discouraging reflection that we are building amid the ruins of many a goodly structure, of which the foundation stone was laid with hopes perhaps as fair as our own. We know that there is a prejudice against Irish periodicals, which it will require much caution on our part to overcome. Many who are jealous of their names will not wish them to be connected with an undertaking the success of which is doubtful, and withhold their contributions or subscriptions until they can be satisfied that we shall maintain our ground, or in other words, refuse us their assistance until it is comparatively of little use. We know that this principle is acted on by many, and this has contributed, in no small degree, to the failure of our predecessors. Thus it is, that while the English and Scotch periodicals number among their most talented contributors many of our countrymen, there rests upon our metropolis the stigma of never having supported a good general Magazine; and Irish talent, like Irish valour, is valued and distinguished every where but at home. But we have been looking at the dark side of affairs, and from regarding the contingency of our failure, we now turn with pleasure to contemplate the probability of our success. Puffing, in all its forms and modifications, we detest; and in literature, as well as law, we maintain the maxim that no man can be a witness in his own cause. Our mere promises we know are, and ought to be, of little consequence; and our fate must be decided, not by our professions, but by the character of our work. Still, modesty in these days is so rare a qualification, that it is generally presumed if an individual say nothing for himself, it is because he has nothing to say; and the old proverb, that even a fool, if he kept silence, might be taken for a wise man, is exactly and strangely reversed. To this spirit of the age, then, we must pay deference, and do violence to our innate modesty, at least so far as to state the grounds on which we rest our claims to public patronage and support. We are persuaded that within the bosom of our country there is talent sufficient, and more than sufficient, to support a periodical fully equal to any of those in any other country. This talent we trust 'to bring into efficient operation in our Magazine, and thus, by opening at home a channel for those communications which have hitherto occupied the pages of foreign reviews and periodicals, to prevent the literary resources of our country being drained away to increase the already too abundant treasures of the sister island. It is with no little pride we say it, that we have already enlisted in our service some who are ornaments in their several professions and walks of life, and though, as yet, we be but a little band, we number among our contributors those whose names augur well for our ultimate success; for we are persuaded that talents which have been tried and framed in many of the more arduous exercises of intellect, will not fail to command admiration in the pages of a Magazine. Yet we feel that great as are our resources, they are not beyond what we have occasion for. Variety is the very essence of a publication such as ours. It is not enough that we have able contributors, but we must have them in every department; there must be a succession of them, who will relieve each other, like the guards of the watch-fire ; and that versatility of talent which we would look for in vain in an individual must be supplied by the united capabilities of many. Support such as this we both look for and expect; and if we are not successful in obtaining it, it shall not be for want of active and strenuous exertion. At present we hardly contemplate the possibility of a disappointment, but if we are calculating beyond our resources, we shall, at least, have the satisfaction of reflecting that the fault is not our own; and shall console ourselves by the consciousness that we have made the exertion, and that we are not responsible for its failure. But, in sooth, we hope better things. Were our prospects even less encouraging than they are, this were not the time for indulging in melancholy forebodings, and while we are writing 1833.] they of our Magazine, we would not imitate the Scythians, who mourned over the infant's birth from a foresight of the perils which awaited its progress through the world upon which it had entered; we would rather take for example the merriment of our Irish christenings, where nothing is heard but prophecies of the future greatness of the little stranger. We feel that we may safely use the language of confidence and hope; and though in giving to our work the name that we have selected, we feel ourselves seriously responsible for its character and merits, yet we trust the lapse of time will show that its sponsors have not promised too much for the DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE. We know and feel that from us will be expected an order of talent different from, though perhaps not superior to, that which is looked for in similar publications that do not appear before the public under such high sanction, or with the impress of so venerable a name. Upon this point we can only promise to bear in mind, and to be influenced by the maximVitavi culpam haud merui laudem." We cannot anticipate that any thing should ever appear under the name of Alma Mater, but what, like the classic pillars of her buildings, is at once elegant and solid, ornamental and yet chaste. There are, we know, some who conceive we would have consulted better for the dignity of that name, had we not connected it with the politics of the day; who imagine that within the precincts of her peaceful courts, should be heard no sounds but the calm voice of science, and that the jarring of discord and the clamour of party should not be permitted to disturb the solemnity of the temple of learning, or interrupt the devotions of her worshippers. But human nature, even in the cloisters of a college, cannot be divested of its attributes; and when the sound of the battle outside has become so loud as even to break upon the silence of our retirement, and when we know that the contest is for all that we are bound to prize, it cannot be expected that we should stand aloof. Nor do we believe that the University ever was intended as a tomb, in which should be buried energies that might be usefully employed in the service of society. That very provision of the Constitution by VOL. I. which a representation in the legisla- means for the attainment of an end- To what purpose is it that we examine the volumes of history, if it is not that we may derive lessons from its pages, as to the causes which fostered the greatness, or produced the downfall of empires, and thus bring the experience of past ages to guide our own ignorance and weakness, and employ the observations of other times in enabling us to form a correct estimate as to the results of our own? If the position be at all tenable, that politics are inconsistent with the dignity of the University; then, indeed, may history be regarded as an old almanack, and the time devoted to its study as misspent, and shallow and presuming ignorance be left to settle those ques N tions of vital import which are regarded as beneath the notice of intelligence and education. Yet there was a time when even philosophers were not ashamed to bear their part in what so deeply concerns their fellow men, and when it was not considered that deep erudition was mispent, when employed in the settlement of questions that involved the happiness of thousands when even a Solon could render himself illustrious as a legislator; and Socrates, the first of heathen sages, bring his energies to bear upon the interests of his country. These too, be it remembered, are no ordinary times. We may say, with the orator of old, that we have not led the life that ordinarily falls to the lot of man, but have been born for a tale of wonder to those that shall come after us; we have seen the religious and political principles of infidel and revolutionary France, spreading in our own country; nay, and admitted within the very walls of the senate house of Britain. We have lived to see experiment substituted for experience, and to behold the strange, and yet the solemn spectacle of a great and happy nation voluntarily renouncing that Constitution under which she had prospered, and entering on hazardous speculations, in an untried and theoretical system of representation. We feel as if we were yet but upon the threshold of the change. A spirit seems to have gone abroad of restless and ceaseless innovation, and it is with deep solicitude, that we put to ourselves the momentous question-"What will be the end thereof." Age cannot command respect, or utility ensure protection, while the time-honoured buttresses of our social system are to be given up to the rude assaults of the Goths and Vandals of modern days, that our vain and self-confident speculators in novelties, may erect an edifice of their own upon its ruins. If ever there was a period when circumstances practically enforced the Lacedæmonian law, that every man should be of some party in the state, that period is the present, and we confess, that we think little of that man's patriotism, who can view unmoved the aspect of the times, and wrapping himself in the narrowness of selfish apathy, slumber on in undisturbed indifference, while the storm is shaking the social fabric to its base. Surely, then, in taking our stand by the side of order, and the settled Institutions of the country, we are not acting in a manner unworthy the name we bear, nay, perhaps, we may be enabled to contribute to the defence of the University itself. The war that is waged against every thing great and venerable in the land, may not cease until she is among the number of the aggressed. If concession is continued, demand may be encreased, and the yawning chasm of democracy be like that gulph in the Roman Forum, which it was predicted, would close only upon that which Rome held the most precious. But it is time that this article should be drawing to a close. We must conclude by expressing our unfeigned gratitude to those who have evinced, by their kind and active support, a more than ordinary anxiety for the ultimate success of our enterprize; hazardous it must be, but that it should prove utterly unavailing, we will not allow ourselves for a moment to anticipate. We wish then, in all sincerity of heart, to our readers, and we trust we may be allowed to hope for ourselves, many a happy anniversary of "our opening day. UNIVERSITY INTELLIGENCE. THE COLLEGE ELECTION. It is not our intention to enter into the details of this subject, which have already been submitted to the public through the medium of the press, and ably commented upon by that portion of it which is most competent, from its constant and unflinching advocacy of truth, upon the ground of enlightened principle, to pro nounce a steady, impartial, and incontrovertible judgment. We cannot, however, remain altogether silent upon a theme of such general triumph; we must speak, if it were but to congratulate those, with whom we are proud to be identified, in the utter discomfiture of a party which is only sheltered from the severity of the |