could be said to the contrary. My aunt was the very woman herself that first took him by the hand. She persuaded the mistress to try him with the turf and the post-bag, because his father died before he came to his strength, and nobody was willing to be bothered with him, at the same time answering for his tractability and honesty. It was hard for the best to keep her favour long, above all, one of his wilfulness, that would not be always at her call; so very shortly she wished to get another in his place. But, when any body got a footing in that house, it wasn't asy to ferret them out, while they could be controlled for their good. And so it was with Briney. It was hard to deal with him, for certain, for he only thruv upon correction. Nothing else would do with him. If he was a fortnight without a hurrying from the master, or herself, there was no getting him to do a hands-turn reglar. Neither did commendation agree with him. It made him so proud that he didn't know whether he was standing on his head or his heels. After being well badgered, nobody was like him for duty and obedience; and then the mistress often tried to give him courage by noticing his willingness.

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Briney did that very well," she used to say, or, "Briney deserves credit for the good order he has every thing in" or, maybe, Briney, I am glad to see you are a good boy. I will tell your master how careful you are about the geese. That last goose did you a great deal of credit, Briney."

Well, her back would hardly be turned, when my gentleman would take his seat by the fire, and begin to give his orders like a fugleman. The never a bit of business would he look after for that day, or demean himself by throwing a sod of turf on the fire. He was so good in his consate, that he thought it was a pity to be better; and if a word was said to him by one of us, in the way of advice, we got our answer sharp and plain, that he would walk up to the drawing-room that minute, and we should soon see, to our cost, whose word would be believed first. When his foolishness was found out, good care was took, you may be sure, to pass by any little behaviour there might be in him, and to be down upon him for every trifle; and, by that means, he was saved from going to the bad entirely.

He never knew what was coming to him out of his wages. When there

was as much as fifteen shillings due to him, he would be surprised to hear that he was not in advance: nor did he care if he hadn't a penny in his pocket, only at the fair of Ballyclougharden. That day he always brought the mistress a fairing of threepenny toasting cakes, that he had the satisfaction of seeing go up on a plate by themselves, by her own orders; and, not a bit ever came down, though I believe Snap and Lilla got the best share of the treat.

As for his religion, he was no way bitter in it, so that he had his turn to go to mass; and then, little he cared about it; for he would stop at home any Sunday, if one of us flattered him properly to give us our liberty. At first, he was on his guard, as the family had a bad name with the priest for encouraging Bible-reading in the house. Any Roman servant was well watched by Tim Donnybrook, who was a spy for Father Clancy, who didn't wish one of his flock to live in so turning a place. After all, nobody, at that time, turned all-out in it, only one, and about a-half

that was John Graydon and the girl that run off to America from the persecution.

Briney got into the same danger innocent enough. The mistress, not wishing to have him without a word in his head, among a set so well read as ourselves, fixed that he should have two hours every day to go to school. That plan was soon stopped by the priest who took no notice of him before. He sent for him and told him that he was a scandal to the name of Corigan, and that he ought to beg his bread through the world sooner nor disgrace himself soul and body by going to a Protestant school. Briney was so proud of his advice, that he was ready to take the road that same hour, and said so up to her own face. Some thought he deserved to lose their favour by such ingratitude; but they didn't judge it in that way. After reasoning cases with him he got liberty to stop, provided he gave his mind to reading in the house. That satisfied him. He was prouder nor ever for having so much talk about him; and, for two whole days, the book was never out of his hand. Little good he got by all the trouble that every one of us had with him. First, the mistress began, but he fairly harrished the life out of her before he could tell the differ between a and b. Next, my aunt gave him one lesson that sickened

her of the tutorage. Then, we all took him in turn, till our hearts were broke; and at last, Mr. Machonchy tried his hand with him. He was a man fit for a college edication, with words on his tongne that were no where but in books; and it was expected by the family, that if any body could make Briney a scholar, it was Mr. Machonchy. He failed. What he rehearsed to day, he forgot tomorrow, and the way he miscalled his spelling was a pity to hear. Mr. Machonchy behaved like a man of courage for ever so long; till, in the end, he confessed to us in private, that he would get more credit by one of the white ducks, if he put a book in their hand, nor ever he expected from all his trouble with that unfortunate Briney. As to writing, he never got out of pothooks and hangers; and that was the end of his learning.

Careless as he was about money, he liked to have the name of it, and to be thought one of substance; chiefly when he heard others reckoning up their earnings. To get a rise out of him-which was asy to do any day the earl's postillion-and a little jackeen he was, in spite of the tassel of his cap -counted it up for him on a slate, that his wages only came to a halfpenny a day; while others, with not half his work, got twenty times as much. His sperrit was up in a minute. He walked stiff into the hall to the butler, gave the post-bag into his hand, and asked to get a settlement at once, as he was going to better himself in some other place where good servants would be treated with proper consideration. Them up stairs, had their own laughing when they got the message. The

Imaster lost no time to write his discharge, and had him called up to give it into his own hands. He begun very grave to say he was sorry that the place didn't answer, as he had no fault to find with him but want of sense now and again.

"But," says he, "you are under a mistake about wages. Instead of only a halfpenny a day, you have three half pence besides perquisites; and I consider your place a very profitable one. However, since you are not content you are right to go away. Good morning to you, Briney, I hope to hear of your doing well."

Briney was softened all to nothing. He could't say one word for crying. Down he run to Mr. Machonchy to intrate him to stand his friend only that once, and that he would be a good boy

to the end of his days if he got leave to stop. The master seemingly made a little demur, but when the mistress and all of us-only my aunt-went bail for him, he took back the discharge; and Briney, with a light heart, buckled on the post-bag again.

If I was to go over the half of that boy's foolishness, I wouldn't have done till tomorrow night; so I will, once for all, tell the pretty scrape he brought me into, that you may judge the kind of sense he had. He was about twenty, or a thought more when he was promoted from the turf to the stable; and as his wages was raised, the master paid him off the old score, that he might be clear what was coming to him in the future. The king himself never was half so proud of his riches as Briney was when three pound fifteen was put into his band. He thought he could buy the world with it; and would do nothing that live-long day but walk about with his hands in his pockets showing his money to every comer. Them about the stables, and—though it doesn't tell to the credit of their discretion-some, out of the very hall with ourselves, collogued together to blow his brains out. They flattered him into the notion that he ought to set up for himself now he was so rich; and not to be content with a wife that wouldnt bring him the fortune he was well entitled to. The terrible gander believed every word they said; and nobody was thought good enough for him but myself!!! Well, now I am telling it as if I was on my oath before forty justices of the pace. They wrought so with him that his senses left him there entirely; and while he was in that blundering condition, they packed him in to my aunt to demand me in marriage, provided she portioned me with twenty pound in hand, and the six silver spoons with her own coat of arms!

I own it, I was no enemy to the boy. I never gave him a hard word when others abused him or carried stories to his disadvantage; but I can clear my conscience, that a thought of you, Briney Corrigan, never once crossed my fancy sleeping or waking. Why, I would as soon have cut off my head as matched with one of his breeding and profession, supposing he had his weight in gold: nor did one about the house, though they joked more nor was prudent, surmise so much to my miscredit. But my aunt; oh, if she wasn't the woman! My aunt was fit

to be tied. She never was in a passion before; and all her anger fell upon poor pilgarlic, for bringing such an affront upon her. If I went down upon my bare knees to her she wouldn't believe me but that I was a bachelor and a low-minded disgrace to my birth and parentage. She exposed me before them all, by telling how I had a bad drop in me from my grandmother by the father, who was come of a Roman stock; and she declared how my heart was fixed upon tramping off to mass with beads in my hand and holy water in my pocket. The life left me three times, while she rated at me after that manner; for I was a well-instructed girl that knew my religion as well as many; and it went sore again me to be accused of a leaning to the priest. As for my grandmother, I always considered her to be a good Protestant, she being dead twenty years before I was born; besides I didn't care a straw about her, so I offered to renounce her upon the spot. I offered to read my recantation before the master or the bishop, to clear my character from ever being a papist, in thought, word, or deed. I offered to lodge a complaint of Briney with the mistress; and never to look one of the name of Corigan straight in the face, or change a word with them while my name was Betty. Pooh! you might as well whistle jigs to a mile-stone as talk reason to her when her mind was properly astray. She called in Mrs. Rook and Mr. Machonchy to witness that I did not belong to her; and then brought down the mistress to have me turned off directly. At first she was started. She put her two eyes through and through me, till I thought hanging would be counted too good for me; but when I got a hearing for myself, and when Mrs. Rook backed me by telling how the boy was put up to it, I explained it so clear that I lost no ground in her favour. The master, too, took my part in a way that vexed my aunt more nor any thing; for, he said, Briney showed himself a man of sperrit to look so high.

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But, Mrs. M'Master," says he, "I would advise, if you give your consent and the twenty pounds, to keep your spoons. Young house-keepers can do without plate very well in the beginning."

That joke set all the house joking. From the top to the bottom, you could hear nothing but skitting and laughing at my expense, only from my aunt, VOL. IX.

who fell to clear-starching, to be ready to leave the country the minute I disgraced her, which she promised I would do before a week was out. I bore all pretty well till Mr. Machonchy, who was an elderly man, careful in his speech and without a bit of fun in his stiff shoulders, came into the kitchen, and as he passed me by, took off his hat with a low bow, hoping Mr. Corigan was well when I last heard from him.

That finished me. If they laughed before, they roared now; and I ran out of the house from pure spite and vexation. Who was the first I met, but Briney, riding the horses from water, and whistling like the earl's groom of the chambers? I was a girl-I may say it now-that wasn't cliver at an answer, or smart with my tongue; but whatever came over me then, I was so entirely provoked with him, and them, and my aunt, that I fell to scolding at him like mad. Every minute I only got the more angry, for he looked so foolish when he began to stutter his apology, that I was beside myself at his impudence, in ever daring to think of me. I said, what I was sorry for after-slighting things that a stone wall wouldn't tolerate. I said he was more like a leprachaun nor a Christian. I said that the lame turkey had more sense and discretion; and I said that the poorest girl in Ireland wouldn't look the same side of the way with him, or touch him with a pair of tongs.

Hould your foolishness," says he, turning on me, like a wild bull; "I'll soon show you the differ; and you'll live to be sorry that you lost your luck when it came in your way."

With that, he trotted off, and we never saw his face for two days, when the news came before him, that he was married to a widdy's daughter, as passable a girl as any in her station, and hard working and discreet in her manner. What tempted her, nobody ever could find out, if it wasn't his three pound fifteen, and his bragging of the friendship of them at Curraghbeg. Nor was he or she disappointed in their expectations. It all ended by making him gate-keeper, with labour all the year round. He was sober and industrious; and she, being clean and active, soon made things look up about them; so that, if she hadn't credit out of Briney, he had credit out of her. But, to tell the honest truth, there were worse heads to a woman in the country nor himself.

2 P

One would think I might have a quiet life with my aunt after he was out of the question; but that wasn't her way. She never stopped hinting at me, drawing down parables, and shaking her head; no, not even after I was married by the master, and gave away by Mr. Machonchy, till my husband, who was of as good a family as herself, took her up quite short, one day, that she asked me how I would

like to live in a gatehouse; and he said that he would't allow the king or queen to drop a whimper again his wife. From that out she didn't venture to cast up any thing uncommon.

I have told enough now for one turn. I didn't come to the rebellion yet, for I was bid not. But, when I am called upon, I can tell more about it nor any living now.

OUR readers are, of course, aware that the existence of some inland sea, great lake, or mighty river traversing the Australian Continent, has been the subject of frequent conjecture. In fact, without such supposition, it is difficult to account for many of the phenomena which daily meet the eye in that remarkable country. A few of these we shall enumerate. The most striking feature, common to almost every known portion of Australia, is a chain of mountains running parallel to the sea coast, at the average distance of forty or fifty miles inland. The country within this range is, especially on the western coast, of a superior quality; the narrow stripe between the mountains and the sea being comparatively light and sandy. As yet no rivers of any magnitude have been discovered penetrating the range and falling into the sea. On the other hand, there does not appear to be any serious deficiency of springs and streams in the interior, at least on the western side; while on the eastern, a large river, the Darling, has been some time since discovered, at a considerable distance in the interior, steering its course, not towards the mountains, but inland, in a north-westerly direction. The coast on the eastern side of Australia has been for a great distance accurately surveyed; and no such river has anywhere been found to fall into the sea; nor is there, in fact, any gorge or valley by which it could make its way through the mountain range. It has been conjectured that this river traverses the whole continent, and disembogues itself on the N. W. coast, somewhere to the west of Dampier's Land. That it does not do so on the eastern or southern coasts, is almost

on

So far for negative evidence as to the future course of the Darling, after leaving the British settlements the S.E. coast. It is true that much light has been thrown upon the probable course of this river by the discoveries of that most able and enterprising officer, Captain Sturt, which render it not unlikely that this river may fall into the Murrimbigee or Murray river. Still, however, the whole character of the interior as described by that officer, would rather confirm the supposition of an inland sea, surrounded by an immense swampy margin, covered with reeds, which assumes the character of lake, or coarse pasturage, according to the nature of the season. It does not appear that these swamps, if they may be so called, are unwholesome - whence it would seem likely that they are merely the overflowing of some great interior basin.

It is, perhaps, impossible to draw any inference from the similarity or difference of the language, manners, and habits of the natives on the eastern and western coasts of Australia, as it is difficult to ascertain whether the existence of an inland sea would promote or retard communication between

them. We should be inclined, however, to think that they would be more likely to become acquainted with each

other by coasting along the shores of a Mediterranean sea, than by crossing a desert of two thousand miles diameter. There exist, apparently, on the same coast, dialects so different, as to deserve the title of distinct languages. There are also tribes wholly unlike in appearance, in every respect, except the colour of the person. The hair is in many of these nations long, frequently flaxen. Some are handsome, and of Asiatic features; others like the European; while a great number are like the Africans, and inhabitants of New Guinea. There is also great variety in the size and strength of the various races of human beings inhabiting the known parts of this immense Continent.

In character and disposition there is a general resemblance. Where they have not been degraded by convict intercourse, they are a hasty, proud race, but more open and free from suspicion and treachery than most savages. They have been proved remarkably intelligent, not merely in their own pursuits, but in learning ours. At the Paramatta schools they have borne away prizes from the European children; and they have one species of talent which we should very highly estimate, namely, they learn our language much more quickly than we do theirs; and what is perhaps confined to them among all our savage acquaintances, they speak it with as much grace and correctness where they have been at all cultivated, as it could be done by our most educated classes. We have, perhaps, diverged a little from our subject, in thus dwell. ing on the character of the natives, but we cannot resist the desire to vindicate a much injured, and, therefore, much maligned race, from the ignorant aspersions of those who, like Messrs. Inglis, Barrow, & Co. spend three weeks in a country, and then come home and sit down to write a very pretty book, divided into nicely balanced chapters of "Manners, Habits, &c.""Religion, Politics, &c." " Climate, Antiquities, &c." "Municipal Reform, Poorlaws, Church Establishment, &c." and then are balloted for, and duly installed members of the Travellers' Club, are introduced by Lady M. to Lady N. as "Mr. Halfpeep, the traveller," and strut forth to mystify the unhappy ears of their fellow theorists by the weight of their experience.

There is one principle which we think has been most mischievously

disregarded by settlers and colonial governments; namely, the necessity of preserving in the native that self-respect which in default of higher motives constitutes Our material to work upon in rendering him a safe and useful neighbour. This feeling, almost without exception, falls a sacrifice to his awe at the superior power and civilization of the invader; and we appeal to experience with confidence when we assert that there has hardly been an instance where the first effect of this awe has not been to render the natives friendly and willing to learn, until we taught them only our vices, and then murdered them for becoming apt pupils. We should remember that for us to shoot the game of the native is to the full as great an injury as for him to spear our sheep; but in fact in Sydney and Van Diemen's Land, the very human beings have been shot for mere sport, and as an habitual practice; while if one of them spears a white man, he is caught and formally executed. Even the Swan River colony has been disgraced by such deeds on one or two occasions; and the ruffian settler allowed to pass on his course, instead of being hung to the highest branch of the highest tree amid a grand assembly of the native tribes, invited to witness England's justice.

One very singular peculiarity of all the natives of Australia we cannot avoid noticing. All the inhabitants of this continent, as well as those of Van Diemen's Land, make use of a weapon entirely unknown in any other country. Those on the east coast call it the "gomerah" or "boomerang ;" those on the west the "kylê-ee." It consists of a curved piece of heavy wood like the knees used in shipbuilding, but flat on one side, and slightly rounded on the other. The peculiarity of this instrument consists in this, that when thrown properly it describes nearly a figure of eight, the person throwing being at the crossing or rather to the right of it. To describe its motion more exactly thus; it is thrown as if to strike the ground at the distance of thirty yards, instead of doing which, it whirls along forming a figure like a pear, turning at about 70 yards, and returning, it passes the person throwing it, on his left side; and turning again behind him at from ten to twenty yards, comes back, and after spinning a moment in the air, falls beside him.

The use of the weapon is to place