BANIM's TALES.

THE volumes before us prove how little intellectual power, or even genius, can effect when It attempts to produce its materials instead

of shaping them. In the Mayor nj IVind-Gap, Mr. BANESi re- lies upon his invention only : he %voted draw characters whom be never encountered, and paint a state of society which he never met in reality, or even, we suspect, in the reflection of books or tradition; and the result is a comparative failure—a mere circu- lating library story. The opening scene of the Canvassers is not much better : it places us in a world where few professional writers have ever been—the most private recesses of the most exclusive life; and it wants the evident truth which is displayed in the pages of Mrs. GORE, of Lord AICLGRAVE, and even of CECIL HYDE. But the remainder of the tale is so capital as to redeem the failure of the first passages, and even of the Mayor (f Wind-Gap. " Rob Roy is on his native heath." The scene is Ireland—to-day. The characters consist of her peasants, an influential landlord, pretty considerably in debt, and the inge- nious and faitl.ful domestics, or rather clansmen, bound " to go the whole hog" liar their master. The leading incidents are an election, and the endeavours made to hide the nakedness of the land and the poverty of its owner front an English nobleman, come over to canvass the county. In these parts there are some side-splitting passages, almost equal to SMOLLETT, with a sober and subdued truth which we suspect SMOLLETT never attained.

The love-tale of the Mayor of Hind-Gap may be passed over, as well as the character of that worthy himself; who in point of' titular distinction resembles the Mayor of Garrat. The state of society the author intended to display, is that of a barbarous neighbourhood in Ireland, some fifty )ears ago ; when a man of means, if it so minded him, could carry off the pretty girls of his neighbourhood vi et arniis, and when the corporations— corrupt enough now—superadded to corruption the most deplorable igno- rance and meanness of circumstances in its members. The sub- ject is good, had Mr. BANim acquired the requisite knowledge ; but if he even possesses this desideratum, he has not taken the pains or allowed himself the space to work it out.

The incidents of the Canvassers have been indicated already. The interest of the tale turns upon the schemes of a match-making mother to get off her two remaining daughters. Her projects are successful, but she is punished votis peractis. The beauty, who marries the lord ,.sepamtes from him in a few years, in con- sequence of his infidelity. The plain woman of ability, who en- snares a wealthy fool, lives to see him squander his property, dis- grace himself and his station, and go mad. Our extracts shall be confined to one tale, and one point—Irish character, Irish shifts, and Irish elections. The confusion created by the news of Lord %Varringdon's proposed visit to Wilmot Castle, is well done, but not so good for independent extract. We will therefore begin with some bits from the journey.

The road to Wilmot Castle, never very good, was now, owing to the late rains, nearly impassable; nod Mr. Wilmot, although he hall issued strict orders to "little Paudeen" to bid Pat Murphy tell Jim Flanagan to give "a touch of mending" to the bad places, entertained certain misgivings as to the manner in which the said otders would be executed by the said Jim Flanagan, even should the said Paudeeu not have forgotten to tell the said Pat Murphy to tell the said

Jim.

" I am devilishly afraid, Kelly," he said to his man, as he was stepping into bed, the evening before they were to start, " that Lord Warrington's nice London-built carriage will break down on the road to Wilmot Castle."

"Faith, Sir, I wouldn't be surprised if it did."

." Had I not better tell him to leave it here, then? Costello will take care of it ; what do vou think, Kelly ?" " Faith, Sir, if you take my advice, you will say nothing about it, but leave it all to God. May be, it won't break down at all, Sir ; and if it does, we must only pretend to be greatly surprised on account of how bad the road is grown; or, suppose we lay the blame on the dhriver ; that will du betther. Jim is to drive us (he is a tinant of your own, Sir, from the other side a' the county); and he won't mind, a ha'parth, getting the blame instead of your road, Sir; and we can make it up to him some other way, Sir ; it would sound so quare' Sir, to be telling a sthrange gentleman, just come to the counthry, that one hasn't a road fit for him to throve] on, Sir."

"By Jove, Kelly, I believe you are right," replied the master ; " no use eiposing the e nakedness of the land, if we can help it; and, as you say, may be we shan't break down; and, if we do, you can give Jim half-a.guinea to take the blame on himself, poor devil !"

So Mr. Wilmot did not apprize his noble guest of the more than probable doom of his highly-finished London-built carriage.

"Where is the post-boy ?" asked Lord, Warringdon of a tatterdemalion figure near him. Is it the dheiver you are aim' about, Sir—my Lord, I mane?" also asked, instead of answering (for he was Irish) the person addressed; and he respect- fully took at a hat that had, we suppose, once been good and shaped like other hate, but that now bore evidence of hard service; "an', sure, I am Cie boy you want, my Lord." His LonIship allowed some surprise at this piece of information but ;1/411, though interpreting; the surprise to be created -by his own uu-posay like ai- petrance, affected to take it quite the other way. 'Faith! its Impel% and nobody else that's to be your dhriver, my Lord. Did yo think, Sir—my Lord, I mane—that my master, Misther Costello', would put you off wid any ore but mysel'? Faith, my Lord, he would be very sorry to do such a thing.as that i itis me that always dhrivea the Lords snit Mimbere of Parliament ; for Misthee Costelloe wouldn't let me (*rive any of the emit- =malty, at all, good or bad, but l:‘•eps me for the grand quality intsrely, such Sr your Lordship's honour, or Mr. Wilmot : yes, indeed, I'm his grandee dhriver, my Lord." And Jim closed his harangue by giving a chuck to his femoral ha- biliments, and a knowing look at Mike Kelly.

They are to start slowly, as Mr. Kelly takes care to impress upon Mr. Jim; but the state of the road defies care and a moderate pace. The early part of the journey is bad, the middle worse, but as they advance, the Exclusive stands a fair chance of being shaken to death.

All he had hitherto endured, however, was but " the crumpling of the rose*" compared with what followed. The concussions became absolutely terrific : seventy-four running aground might experience something like the jolting and humpings of our pour car' iage, as it swung from side to side; now ascending to the heavens above' now descending to the depths below ; now Mr. Wilmot tumbling over Lord Warringdon, and now, for vasiety, Lord Warringdon tum- bling over Mr. Wilmot. " What luck we had, Sir !" said Kelly—putting his head in at the carriage- window, and assuming a guileless, innocent expression of face, which deceived even his niaster—" What luck we had, to get this vagabone of a Jim to dhrive us—he's as drunk as a piper."

" Is he really ?" inquired Mr. Wilmot.

" Sure, if he wasn't dhrunk, and as dhrunk as a baste, too," continued he, looking steadily at his master, and glancing with a smile at Lord Warringdon, who sat with his head between his hands, utterly exhausted—" Sure if he wasn't, lie wouldn't be dhriving the way he is. Isn't he shaking you to bits? doesn't that show he must be (Bawd:, when any one but himself, the black- guard, would (thrive so asy, you might thread a needle going along. I'm afraid you are teiribly joulted, my Lord ?" added Mr. Kelly in a commiserating tone.

" I am half dead," faintly articulated his Lordship.

" Upon my conscience," continued Kelly, " I've the greatest mind in the world to dismount, and give that dhrunken baste of a Jim as fine a flogging as he ever got in his life, for his impidence." " For God's sake do not," cried Lord Warring4lon, " or we shall be left on the road all night." " Won't I, my Lord ? Oh very well, I won't if your Lordship doesn't like I'd do it, replied Kelly," aff;cting submission to Lord Warringdon's request ; " but if it wasn't for you, my Lord, upon my word and credit, Jim Naughten would be very little obleeged to himself this mornire, I can tell him that. Jim ! vu din-tinker' ba-te ! how dare you dhrive that way ? If it wasn't for Loid Warringdon's begging you off, I'd bate you while ever I could stand over ye, you villain, ye!" " Long life to your Lordship !" roared Jim, "long life to your honour's Lord- ship, Member of Parliament tbr the county of — ! long life to him ; he's a jewel of a boy—huzza! huzza!" and he whirled his hat over his head, playing all the antics beseeming his supposed condition. Kelly cantered to his side—" I'm proud of ye, Jim ; I always knew you were the devil for dhriving ; but upon my word and credit, Jim, you flog all ever I seen, for dhriving today. Any one but yourself would have had the carriage in smithereens long ago. Faith, Jim, I think you must have a charm from the good people for dliriving."

" Oh ! Mr. Kelly, you pay me too many compliments entirely, Sir," replied Jim, trying to look abashed ; " I'm proud to have your applause, but, indeed, it far exceeds my desarvings, Mr. Kelly." Jim thought no such thing; on the contrary, no praise he ever received came up to his notions of his own merit on a had road. " Ilow's the masther? Fin afraid he's kilt."

" No, indeed, thank God, he isn't," replied Mr. Kelly ; " he's used to it, you know, Jim."

" Aral the other poor cratur?" demanded Jim.

" Oh ! he's bedevilled, iutirely." "

A. thin is lie? no wondher, troth ; God knows mysel' pities him the orator t" and here Jim "gave a taste of the whip" to his" bastes," and Mr. ella fell back to do the civilities by Mr. Syrumous, Lord Warringdon's gentle- man.

The scenes of the election are among the richest of the whole. They are indeed laid during the time of the forty-shilling free-

holders, but they have an enduring truth about them ; and at present possess a temporary interest, for incidents of a similar nature are, and we fear will be for some time to come, the essen- present possess a temporary interest, for incidents of a similar nature are, and we fear will be for some time to come, the essen-

tials of an Irish contest, especially where the power of the Great 0' is not supreme—it produces unanimity somewhat after the Ro- man fashion.

The eventful morning Came, and the whole town was alive at the dawn of day ; crowds of partisans of all ages and ranks gathering round the committee- rooms of the opposing candidates; electioneering agents, oratorizing, explain-

ing, or mystifying, as suited their purpose; looking over certificates, and a making Pat Conny sinsible he was only to be Pat Conny the first time ha

voted, but Dennis Sleevan, the second time, in regard of poor Dennis not being convenient just then, because he was berried last week ; and reminding Martin Donovan, he musn't forget to slip a flea inside his lase, that he might swear with a safe conscience, that the life in it was still in existence," and other trifling though necessary arrangements, for the proper carrying on of their employer's interests. And voters were eating, drinking, shouting, laughing, and

whirling their fermi!s to give them "the rash fighting touch ;" and among the noisiest of the noisy, as in duty hound, were the Castle Wilmot Boys, who strove hard, by all the means in their power, to keep up the honour of "the family," and make as much riot as possible.

" Which of you has seen or heard any thing of ISPAlpine? " demanded Mr. Malony, as he entered Lord Warringdon's committee-room, his face flushed from pain and impatience. a Still at Mount Pleasant, I suppose," replied one of the group he addressed. Still at Mount Pleasant ! confound him ! what is he doing there?" "Making love to Lady Mary Pemberton, I hear."

a Making love to the Devil, man ! why isn't he here? who ever heard of a man leaving his freeholder. to themselves in this way ? how can he tell who

they vote for when he's not on the spot? Making love, indeed ! the bletherem 'kite of a fellow ! always bothering some woman or other with his cursed poetry or romance, and she wishing him at the Devil all the While for hie

pains. I bring up my men myself, my Lord; I take care that nobody dare meddle with a freeholder of mine, or I'd put a bullet through his head, and distrain every beast belonging to the tenant who dared even to think of voting according to his own vagaries. Making love, indeed—the numbskull ! " Mr. Malony's invective against the romantic Mr. 111‘Alpine was cut short by Father John Molloy's entrance, looking as if he were the bearer of portentous information. Lord Warringdon advanced, and shook hands most cm-y with "hi. kind and excellent friend, Mr. Molloy." "DV Lord, I am credibly informed that there's a batch of M'Alpiass

along with Areket's men ! " and the worthy priest accompanied this startling intelligence with an ominous shake of the head. " Pooh pooh ! Father John ; 'tis impossible," Malony interrupted. " Is it the ll'Alpine servants who are at rack-rents, and date not call their souls their own? Do you think they would have the courage to vote spinet his orders ? not they." "But, Mr. Alalony, what do you say, if 'tis by his orderathey are voting ? " " Do you suppose he wants to have cold lead lodged in his brains ?" quietly

demanded, in his turn' Mr. Malony. • • •

"Mr. Malony, I beg pardon for interrupting you," said Father John ; "hadn't we better see after them Al'Alpines ; they'll slip through our fingers else. I was thinking of going myself into the — booth, to watch them as they come in, and know the truth at once." This idea met universal approbation ; and accordingly, FatherJolm hurried to the — booth, the stronghold of the 111‘Alpine interest.

A batch of the suspected freeholders arrived before him ; and a tagged, half- starved, miserable-louking creature, was now undergoing the usual interroga- tives by the deputy-assessors. " Who do I wote for' is it ? wote for — for — By my conscience, then, I can't remember the name just at this present minute. Mister Fatly ! Mister Fahy ! which of 'em is it you tould me to wote for ?" demanded the puzzled freeholder, in a stage-whisper. " Archer. Hav'nt I been able to bate that into your head yet, ye omad- houn ?" inquired, in his turn, Mr. M‘Alpine's confidential man of business. " Omadhoun ! Mister Fahy?" repeated the voter ; "faith, an' the 'cutest boy in the county; 'lid he bothered when he's never tould two days ronnin* the same thing: one time I'm to vote for the English Lord ; then I anent, but it's for Misther Archer I'm to wote: how are we to know what's wanting of us at all?"

This dialogue excited shouts of jeering laughter from the Warringdon party, and cries;of " Success to ye ! your scholar does you credit, Misther Fahy! he's a nate boy at his A B C. " Silence ! " cried the deputy assessor. " Your vote, my honest man." " Archer ! why don't you spire out at onst, ye ohnshuch ? " whispered Mr. Fahy, angrily, in the ear of his very stupid, and now somewhat sulky pupil.

" Oh, it's for the English Lord he's goin' to vote," loudly and scoffingly

laughed the Warringdons. " By the powers, then, it isn't. I'll wote for neither of 'ern ; but for my own masther, Mr. M'Alpine, and nobody else," replied thwersecuted and dis- pleased freeholder. " Mr. APAlpine is not • candidate, my honest man," replied the deputy as- sessor.

" Well, for Miss Kitty, then? " This answer was received with shouts of laughter by the Warringdoias, and with muttered curses by the Archers.

" Ladies are never elected to serve in Parliament, my honest man. You must, therefore, take your choice of the three candidates in question,—Viscount Warringdon, Mr. Fitzgerald, and Mr. Archer ; and makeup your mind at once, if you elease, for you are stopping the poll all this time." " Faith ! an' with the blessing of God, I won't stop it any longer," and the indignant voter turned suddenly round and took to his heels.: He was succeeded by another of the batch, who got through his lesson more creditably to himself and Mr. Fally. " My blessing to ye, Phanick O'Dea!" said father John, " how long is it sence you turne71 Protestant?"

"Me turn Protestan', is it, Father John! The Lord save us !" And Phanick c■-ossed himself reverentially. " Sure I'm no Protestan', nor one belongin' to me; the heavens betwixt us an' harum !" "if you ain't a Protestant, and a bittlier black one, too, bow do ye come to vote for the Orange candidate, my roan ?"

" Avoch, Father John, sure it isn't of our own will we're voting ! didn't Pat Sullivan threaten to burn the houses over our heads, and banish us the place, if we didn't wote the way wa were ordhered ? An' how would we stand the counthry, Father John, if we didn't? always in arrares of rint, you know." " But, Phanick, didn't your masther promise the English Lord ? bow cau lie go back of that, now?" Phaniek twisted his hat between Iris fingers, shifted from one leg to the other, and was silent a moment.

"It isn't for the likes of us, you know, your Reverence, to be faulting him, whatever he'd do sure he'd sweep us off the face of the earth if we didn't do his biddin ! "

"But do ye know it is his biddin' ? " " Sure if it well, would Pat Sullivan lie goin' on the way lie was, sthrivile to get us down, and threatoin' our lives;if we wouldn't be said by him ?"

Acting under the advice or rather the directions of Mr. Malony and his Committee, Lord Warringdon challenges Mr. WAlpine, the gaby of the tale. That gentleman, however, denies having pledged himself; but, to compromise matters, will give his own Vote to Mr. Archer, and leave his tenants to vote as they please.

"It is all right, you see," observed the young Viscount, not sorry to he rid of s pistolling-match, to his friends assembled in full divan.

"All right, my Lord ! all right ? any thing but that ; all wrong, you mean !" exclaimed Mr. Malony. "Why, does he not leave his men to themselves? and is not that just what we wanted ?" asked the candidate.

"Oh, the schemer ! doesn't he know well they dare not go against his °tilers, already given? And the poltroon won't fight; you see how he backs out of that ! I don't know what wo are to do with him at all," said Mr. Malony, rather despondingly. "Never mind now, don't be one bit unasy," interposed Father John ; "but give me the letter, and I'll go among the tenants. Lave I1PAlpine with me, Mr. Malony, and I'll settle him, I promise you." And now, what had been only noise and confusion, became wild tumult and deafening roar. The freed freeholders of the Al'Alpine estate found their newly-accorded liberty of thinking and acting for themselves a perilous as well as puzzling privilege; beset on one side by Father John's eloquence and the Warringdon shillelagh, and on the other, by Mr. Archer's money and fear of their master

" Do you want to deny your religion ye unfottunate, misguided creatures?" Father John cried. "Oh, that ever I should lire to see a man of my flock voting for an Orange candidate and Protestant ascendancy, and toe downfal of their own ancient, thrue, and holy religion! And when I'll be witness agin ye at the Last Day, that I warned ye, but that ye wouldn't give heed to me, how will it be with ye then, boys ? " " Avoch, Fattier John, bad enough ! sure we'd he said by you afore the world ; and why not only for the masther, -but Father John ? Oh, if we displease him, how will it be with us at all, and our long wake little families?"

"But don't you see his writing, boys? what more would ye bays! sure he laves you to plane yourselves ; doesn't he, my men?" His auditors, however, still hesitated.

"If he shouldn't mane what he says, Father John?" " Oeb, is it making a liar of your masther ye are?" queried the orator with a half langl. "God help us!" they groaned : "well, Father John, we'll do your biddis, awl vote for the English Lord. ' " Do at your peril !" would say Mr. Fairy, "do, and I'll dhrive every mother son of ye ; not a-baste ye have that shan't be in the pound twenty-four hours after you give that vote."

" Ochre, mutdher !" what's to become of us at all !" cried the poor trembling wretches.

And then an electioneering agent for Archer would whisper, "A couple of pounds a head boys, an' the best of ating an' drinking ; what do ye say to that ?"

" Which way do ye wote, ye velum of the world ?" the Jim •Naughten'is boys' and the Castle Wilmot's would roar, whirling their "ferrals." " For ye, for ye!" cried they, more influenced by the dread of hell-fire in prospect, and of a sound drubbing at the moment, than by love of money, or even fear of being made houseless.

" Success to ye ! glory to ye ! hurrah for the throe and stanch friends of their religion ; high for the 1SPAlphines !" the Warringdon's shouted.

" Ye impident blackguards ! ye shall pay for this, take my word for it, every identical man o' ye !" the infuriated agent vociferated. And, perceiving some signs of vacillation of purpose in the crowd, he added,

" If there are any among ye will stroul by their masther and their cabins, and the bastes, and their children, let 'ern come over to my side !"

A few answered the appeal.

All the renegades ! the apostates ! the vellains," the Castle Wilmot; howled, as they rushed on the small and terrified band.