"A bramble at the eye is larger than an oak at a distance," and thus every man is of importance in his own view; and imagines that he could communicate something of profit or pleasure by recounting the results of his individual experience. But the most remarkable adventures, as well as the sagest remarks, are forgotten, if they are merely the subjects of fire-side reminiscence; and people are deterred from making public the events of their own lives through the terror of imputed egotism, however well they may feel inclined to impart a benefit to their species. In this dilemma, between vanity and forgetfulness, much useful warning is withheld from the world, since all agree that one fact is more valuable than volumes of theory.
This train of meditation was awakened by unpacking a case, in which a pile of journals, which I had kept from early youth, met my eye. Many a bitter recollection rose upon my mind, as I arranged them according to order; but coute qui coute, I resolved that I would collect my scattered memoranda, and attempt a sketch of my own history. The retrospect was painful; but if a single fellow-being might be instructed by a narrative of my errors, I felt that I should be rewarded; and even should no second person peruse these pages, a review of the past will be good for my own heart.
Inspired by these reflections, I begin by saying, who I am and whence I came. My name is Albert Fitzmaurice, and my birth-place the western extremity of a certain county in Ireland. My father was a clergyman of the Established Church, who, though born likewise in Ireland, was of English parentage, and received an Oxford education, which was a greater distinction in his day than it is at present, when the intercourse between the Sister Kingdoms has softened down, or obliterated so many national differences amongst their inhabitants.
Charles Fitzmaurice, for that was my father's name, was an accomplished gentleman, according to that high standard which never varies in all the changes of time and taste. Amiable, classical, and refined, he sought a congenial partner to mitigate the horrors of the banishment to which he was doomed at eight and twenty by his ecclesiastical patron; and as the females of that period were distinguished from each other by varieties not entirely comprehended under the endorsement of "black, brown, and fair;" my father was fortunate enough to find a companion whose fine understanding and heavenly sweetness of disposition maintained a perpetual sunshine of the soul wherever she moved.
In the present artificial state of society, when rank and fortune are generally considered necessary to refinement, I shall encounter the curled lip and elevated eye-brow of disdain if I venture to assert that my parents were amongst the happiest specimens of polished elegance, though they could neither boast of wealth nor title. There is a dignity of mind, which, borrowing nothing from the Proteus fashion of the day, rises gracefully in its own strength, and is suited to all times, because, proceeding from solid principles, it is not indebted to the changeful caprices of the passing hour. Surely that politeness which has its foundation in the heart, and which may be defined good nature sent to school, is the only genuine sort, permanent in its influence, and of universal application.
Such was the kind with which I was acquainted in the home of my early existence. As the shores appear to glide by the skimming bark in the sweet calm of a summer sky, while in reality they are fixed and immoveable, so did the suavity of parental affection temper discipline to such a degree, that commands put on the gentle aspect of request, which none but demons could have resisted; and retirement, which precluded any attempt at awkward imitation, imparted all that ease and self-possession, which are the essence of good society.
Situated in a wild and thinly peopled district, though in one of the most populous of all countries, this excellent pair began their wedded career on the humble pittance of five hundred per annum, which sum, however, it must be remembered, embraced a much wider proportion of comfort than the same income could at present procure. During many tranquil years my parents pursued "the noiseless tenor of their way," rich in each other's love, and happy because their mutual attachment was built on sympathy in virtue, which wears brighter instead of being destroyed by use. They lived, it is true, in what modern language styles the deepest obscurity; but really in the meridian light of truth and contentment. A numerous tribe of olive branches sprang around their table; and notwithstanding the straightened finances which supplied their wants, each addition to the family group was hailed with affection, which seemed to increase in fervor with every new direction of its course.
The chief delight of my father and mother consisted in bestowing upon their offspring every advantage which their own acquirements, and whatever instruction they could attain at such a distance from the capital, enabled them to impart. An excellent library lent its aid to their efforts, but the quiet routine of a country life, in which each day certified of another, however pleasingly diversified for the actors in a domestic group, is too monotonous to interest such as may be strangers to those endearing relations which produce, in breasts that feel their influence, an unceasing supply of excitement; and therefore my readers (if readers I should have) will readily dispense with all the particulars of my childhood, and thank me for retarding their introduction to the parsonage of Glendruid, in the wilds of the west, till about the year ninety-seven, when I was a full grown youth of eighteen, tall, active, and manly. Truth compels me, in thus declaring how many summers I had numbered at the commencement of my story, to destroy in limine any romantic visions with which the fairer part of creation may be inspired, if any amongst them should deign to turn my title page in fond belief of meeting with a youthful hero, under the not unnovel like appellation which I bear. It is true that I have been young, giddy, and adventurous; and if I am no longer the Albert of former days, it is because time will do his silent work without regard to the prayer of beauty, and hurry his victim forward unmindful of every entreaty preferred by either sex, to stay his merciless career. But to my tale.
All who have lived as long as I have done, will recollect that the epoch of which I write was one of violent commotion in the minds of Irishmen. The revolutionary spirit of France had crossed the seas, and while actively fermenting the population of my country, was as rapidly decomposing the substance of religion and morals. What was called a thirst of inquiry, a search after truth, liberality of opinion, unprejudiced reason, and many such misnomers, was in fact, a burning desire to demolish the entire structure of civilized institution, and send mankind again into the woods as hunters and shepherds, to emerge anew from the elements of natural society. Man differs not more from the very antipodes of his own character in another person, than he does from himself in distant periods of his life, and I almost doubt my identity in retracing the days of my youth, when I was one of those who