filled the Papal chair, became Pope under the title of Adrian IV. Eager to extend his sway over all the British Islands, he issued a commission to Henry II. giving him author He was to pay to the Pope the tribute of a penny for each house, and on this sole condition was at liberty to establish himself as monarch of that country. The pressure of Asiatic nations upon the tribes of Eastern and Northern Europe, precipitated the barbarians of Scandinavia upon the Roman Empire. The same vast migration of nations forced some of the Germanicity to subdue Ireland to the Catholic faith. tribes to the West. The Saxons landed in England, but seem not to have invaded Ireland. Not so easily did she escape the visit of "the rugged Dane." Sheltered behind England and Scotland, she felt not the first shock of invasion. But the bold sea-kings at length passed the Orkneys, and turned their prows to the south. They sailed by the stormy Hebrides, and found a larger and more beautiful island. These intrepid navigators have left their footprints along the coast. Dublin is a Danish city. They retained their power in Ireland for two hundred years. invasion of Scarcely were the Danes expelled before another invader came, whose hand is still upon the land. In 1170 the Anglo-Norman first set foot upon these shores. It is a curious fact that the Ireland was undertaken by the extend the authority of the Pope. The primitive churches of Ireland were remarkably pure. Remote from the centre of Catholic Christendom, they were little affected by the corruptions of the Church of Rome. They cared little for festivals and splendid ceremonies, "only preaching," says the venerable Bede, "such works of charity and piety as they could learn from the prophetical, evangelical and apostolical writings." They acknowledged no allegiance to the Pope. Indeed their churches could hardly be called Episcopal, for though they had bishops their clergy were all equal There was a bishop to every parish. But he assumed no lordly prerogatives nor splendor. He was poor like the people whom he ininstructed. This fact may conciliate the regards of Protestants towards that unhappy This fact Catholic and Protestant historians have combined to suppress, though for very different reasons. The Catholics did not like to admit that they had been betrayed by their Holy Father, nor the Protestants of England that to the gift of their great enemy they owed their only title to Ireland. True, several years after the Pope's commis sion, the English were invited over, as the Saxons had been invited into England, to aid in settling a civil dispute, which gave an other pretext for invasion. But they brought the commission of the Pope as their title to the land. The army under Strongbow, which landed in the south of Ireland, was a band of crusaders, marching under the banner of religion. So that, when English Protestants lament the obstinate adherence of the Irish to the Church of Rome, they may thank themselves for teaching them the lesson which they have learned so well. Why the Irish hate the English-Ireland a A But this fact alone does not explain the long-continued animosity. If Ireland was a conquered country, so was Scotland; so was Wales; so was England herself. But in all these instances there was a gradual fu sion of races. The victorious invaders gradually melted down into the mass of the nation. Thus the fair-haired daughters of two races as utterly apart, and as deadly the Saxons won the hearts of their Norman hostile, as the Spaniard and the Moor. Had lords; and woman's charms effected what the same barbarous laws been passed in could not have been effected by centuries of Wales and Scotland, to render impossible a wars. Thus in all the invasions of England mixture of the subjugated people with their Ancient Britons, Saxons, Danes, and Nor-masters, the English would have been as mans, ran together, and have made that cordially detested in those countries to this composite race, which is now the noblest in day as they are in Ireland. It was the inter the world. est of England to make the hereditary di visions in her mixed people disappear as fast as possible, and to fuse the whole population of the British islands into one nation. But these laws rendered the line of division indelible. They branded the greater part of the nation as a subjugated people, and compelled the English to stand always in the attitude of invaders, clad in mail, and with arms in their hands. The Irish remained a distinct people, almost as much as the Jews, and with the hereditary sense of injustice lish continued aliens in the land, aliens by blood, by language, and by religion. Thus the two races remained apart, the one to cherish an inextinguishable sense of wrong, and hatred of their oppressors, and the other a bitterness against the poor people whose spirit of resistance they could not break. In Scotland and Wales the English at first encountered the same hostility as in Ireland. For hundreds of years the name of the Saxon was as bitterly hated among the Highlands, and the Welsh mountains, as across the channel. But these were parts of one island, and the waves of population gradually flowed together. Ireland was a distinct country, and could be Anglicized more slowly. Of a proud race,and inflamed with ideas of the ancient glory of his country, the Celt stood apart from his foreign which marks that stricken race. The Engmasters. But time heals all wounds. The blood shed in battle sinks into the earth; the grass grows green over the slain; and ancient feuds and wars at least die out from the memory of men. Here time would have brought oblivion and reconciliation, if continued oppression and cruelty had not kept the wounds fresh and bleeding. The most In Scotland great social inequalities exiswoful blunder ever committed in the long ted, but the organization of the Highland mis-government of Ireland, was the laws clans gave the serf an interest in the favor early passed prohibiting marriages between of his lord. The clansman felt a pride in the English and native Irish,—even making the success of his chieftain. He followed it an act of high treason. This rendered the him to the war and to the chase, and in reevil incurable. The two races, naturally turn received his powerful protection. Some jealous of each other, were thus forced asun-times he shared his hospitality. The bagder. The nation was divided into a domi- pipe was heard in the castle grounds, and nant and a servile class; between whom rude Highlanders in their tartans danced on there must be forever jealousy, hatred, and the green sward, and then ate and drank at often civil war. their chief's expense. These friendly customs, which were remnants of feudal times softened the rigor of the peasant's lot, and made the relation between him and his superior one of affection. Had the Normans, at the period of their conquest, prohibited marriages with the Saxons, the same bitterness would have been entailed upon England. The two races would never have coalesced. The animosity of slaves to their masters would have descended from generation to generation.The history of England would have been little more than a succession of wars between did not dare to address his master. They But in Ireland the lord and the peasant were of different races, and had no feelings in common. The landlord did not deign to speak to the laborer. The peasant But it is a lamenta intentions; nay, our very thoughts cannot exist without exerting their influence. We must perceive also the great necessity of our being more watchful and circumspect, than we now generally are. ble fact, and one which we may well deplore, that what is most necessary for us to do, we are most inclined to leave undone.— This is particularly the case with our influence. We know that we possess it; that that which emanates from us cannot termi life we form a centre of constantly radiating streams; and that every action we manifest, and every word we utter, projects an influence and acquires a history, and yet the consequences seem to be so little regarded, that it is almost a question whether we duly appreciate their importance or no. remained sullenly apart, the one in his place the other in his hovel. As there was no duty of protection on the one side, there was no gratitude or allegiance on the other. Such persevering misgovernment arose in part from ignorance of the Irish character. For six hundred years the English have been masters of Ireland, and yet they have not understood the people of that country. The intense self-consciousness, the indomitable pride and will of an Englishman, pre-nate with us; that from the first dawn of vent him from entering into the feelings of one differently constituted from himself.They have regarded the natives of Ireland as a turbulent, half-barbarous people, that must be awed by harsh government. more ignorant and suicidal policy could not be devised. A Frenchman is not more unlike an Anglo-Saxon than is an Irishman. Like the Highlanders, and all Celtic nations, the Irish are a chivalrous, proud, and high-less and almost invisible electricity of the spirited people. They can not be cowed by severity. Oppression but exasperates them and renders them more ungovernable. They can not be tamed. On the other hand, they have warm hearts, and might easily be conciliated by kindness. If the English could stoop to conciliation, they would not find a more grateful and loyal people in all their dominions. For the Miscellany. INFLUENCE. A From the first moments of our active existence we become entangled with the limit ceaseless powers of influence; not a particle of which is ever lost, but is always in operation somewhere; and is also in constant vigorous action and reaction. Like the flowings of the tide upon the sea shore which only subside in the morning to return with the same freshness towards evening. Influence is a power which operates involuntarily, for although we may choose what we will do, in any given case, yet having done it, we cannot choose what influence it shall have; and an action never terminates upon the actor. In short the powers of influence are so immense that it is impossible to assign limits to it with any thing like certainty. To say the least it so blends and binds the whole human race, that invisible ted to the meanest, forms a center of con- as it may seem, it is nevertheless the mightstantly radiating streams of influence. When iest element of society. And it is to be we come to examine the constitution of transmitted in silent, yet certain effect, even society, we find ourselves surrounded by an to the end of social existence. BY W. FOX. Every human being, from the most exal atmosphere of influences, as powerful as they are indestructible, and as necessary to our existence as the breath we breathe. NASHOTAH LAKES, Wis., March 8th, '52. ELIHU BURRITT, at the present time, is very much engaged in England, in the It is well worthy of cousideration to reflect, that every word uttered however insignificant, and to whatever end; every prosecution of a scheme for ocean penny action manifested with either good or bad' postage. Vol. 6, No. 4—12 For the Miscellany. THE SECRET OF LITERARY SUCCESS. BY JAMES O. WHITTEMORE. tion-an honest purpose once fixed, and then victory. That quality will do anything that can be done in the world; and no talents. no circumstances, no opportunity, will make a two-legged creature a man without it." The popular mind, which is apt to be inaccurate, and is but little given to making nice distinctions, has given too great promi WHAT is it? We do not profess to have discovered it good reader. We have not been so fortunate in cabalistic study as to hit upon the "open Sesame," at whose mag-nence in all times to the first of the three ic sound the barred door swings open and discloses the hidden treasure. But we crave your patience to follow us in a few thoughts upon this subject. If the means by which great writers have attained excellence and consequent eminence are no secret, it would be well for us to know them, so that those who are ambitious for similar attainments may profit by the means, provided always, that they are of a nature to be within the reach of every one. If the secret is indeed a secret, it will do no harm to dig about a little in search of it. We may chance to strike upon the solid gold. If, after having followed us a while, you begin to think we are leading you into "poor diggings," you are e'en at liberty to quit us and pursue a train of reflection of your own choosing. You may then be the happy discoverer of what we are not. requisites we have mentioned above. The popular fiction has enshrined it under the name of Genius--has endowed it with qualities and powers little less than immortal-and has restricted its possession to a few chosen and "shining ones." A natural fitness and predilection for a particular walk of letters has been metamorphosed in the popular mythology, into a sacred flame descending upon the heads of the favored sons of Apollo, Now I am willing to admit all that can truthfully be said in favor of original differences in intellectual capacity. I cannot shut my eyes to the light that blazes from the pinnacle where Shakspeare sits enthroned. None but the mentally blind, will deny that there is an indefinite range, both in intellectual capacity as regards the number and variety of ideas which different persons can appropriate, and an intellectual vitality which has reference to the intensity of the mind's chemical action in the way of reflection upon its ideas. There are some minds whose energy and vitality no superincumbent Etna of poverty, or ignorance, or But we imagine that there is no secret about the matter. We believe that the means of literary success, as well as the success in all other things, are these three-aptitude, A three-fold energy, and perseverance. cord that cannot lightly be broken. A natur-neglect can repress; there are others to whom a grasshopper is a burden. There are al aptitude for any singular pursuit or avocation, always accompanied by a natural some whose mind can,not merely "range from prediliction for that pursuit-an energy in star to star," (for this though a common, is surmounting obstacles, that nothing can in- by no means a convincing test of mental catimidate—and an untiring perseverance, that pacity,) but who can embrace in their comnever closes its sleepless eye, or turns its prehensive range a vast store of the migaze from the object of its life's labor.-nutiae of Natural Science in its multifarious branches, and who can retain a score of These three are great-they have accomplished every noble work which has ever languages, with each their many thousand blessed the world-but the greatest of these artificial terms. There are others who, the is, energy. In the words of Goethe, "The names their mothers called them by, can longer I live, the more certain I am that the scarce remember. Everywhere-it is ungreat difference between men, the great and deniable-there are striking original differsignificant, is energy-invincible determina-ences in intellect. er thing repellant in this word? Is there any- This is an admitted truth. But ah! how of your mind to the free air of a noble and sadly has it been perverted. It has been stirring ambition! Ambition, is there anymade a basis upon which to build a doctrine of fatalism and predestination in literary matters which has done incalculable mischief. How many, because they imagine they have not been favored in the distribution of intellectual gifts with the five or ten talents, bury the one they have in useless inaction. Some have used this fact of original intellectual differences as an excuse for mental indolence, and if all who have perverted it were of this class any further investigation of the matter would be comparatively useless. For the habit of mental indolence, once induced, is one of the hardest to shake off, and whether it can find a good excuse or no it matters little. The literary idler is glad to have some decent apology to offer to the world for his meagre attainments and his obscure position. But if you deprive him of his false refuge it will not rouse him to action. You only degrade him in his own eyes and those of the public, and thus make him worse instead cultivation and the highest developement of of better by destroying what little self- all the faculties. It seeks not that transitory respect is left him. But there is another fame which in life crowns it with laurel, and class who are no laggards, and who if they after death gains it admittance in popular could once be assured that not genius alone fiction to the banquet of the gods; but it but every human mind is a thing of heavenaspires after that intellectual eminence, and ly birth-if they could but believe that for that moral worth, which shall make it great works are not written by inspiration-really fit for such lofty companionship. if they could be divested of a ridiculous reverence for a mysterious "divine afflatus," the fiction of hot brained poets; there is a class we say, who if once rid of these false prejudices, would be set free to run a noble race to distinction. We invite the attention have Fear not then to be ambitious! Crush not the risings of this "spirit of unrest."All the moral thunders which have been launched at ambition, by good men, been pointed and hurled at a malignant shadow, whose other name is selfishness.of all such to this brief and imperfect inves- And yet, I doubt not, there have been eartigation of the subject. If we can convince nest souls who, dreading sin more than they our readers that "the gods help those that feared obscurity, have sorrowfully condemnhelp themselves"-if we can induce those ed themselves to a life of inaction, because who are pining for excellence in any depart- they would not incur the guilt of ambition. ment of letters or learning, no longer to To such, this gospel ought to come as a meswaste the hours in fruitless wishing for the senger of "good tidings" indced, opening glorious gifts they so much covet, but go to the prison doors and knocking the fetters work and wring them from the grasp of from their shackled limbs. "Be ye, thereFortune, our purpose will be accomplished.fore perfect, even as your Father in Heaven Arouse ye desponding! Open the doors s perfect." Perfect, not alone in the exer |