a strong interest in having a prince who professed their own religion placed upon the English throne.  Strange as it may appear, however, and be the cause of it what it may, the Catholics of Ireland, as a people and as a body, took no part whatever in supporting him.  Under Lord Chesterfield’s administration, one of the most shocking and unnatural Acts of Parliament ever conceived passed into a law.  This was the making void and null all intermarriages between Catholic and Protestant that should take place after the 1st of May, 1746.  Such an Act was a renewal of the Statute of Kilkenny, and it was a fortunate circumstance to Willy Reilly and his dear Cooleen Bawn that he had the consolation of having been transported for seven years.  Had her father even given his consent at an earlier period, the laws of the land would have rendered their marriage impossible.  This cruel law, however, was overlooked; for it need hardly be said that it was met and spurned not only by human reason, but by human passion.  In truth, the strong and influential of both religions treated it with contempt, and trampled on it without any dread of the consequences.  By the time of his return from transportation, it was merely a dead letter, disregarded and scorned by both parties, and was no obstruction to either the marriage or the happiness of himself and his dear Cooleen Bawn.

I know not that there is any thing else I can add to this preface, unless the fact that I have heard several other ballads upon the subject of these celebrated lovers—­all of the same tendency, and all in the highest praise of the beauty and virtues of the fair Cooleen Bawn.  Their utter vulgarity, however, precludes them from a place in these pages.  And, by the way, talking of the law which passed under the administration of Lord Chesterfield against intermarriages, it is not improbable that the elopement of Reilly and the Cooleen Bawn, in addition to the execution of the man to whom I have given the name of Sir Robert Whitecraft, may have introduced it in a spirit of reaction, not only against the consequences of the elopement, but against the baronet’s ignominious death.  Thus, in every point from which we can view it, the fate of this celebrated couple involved not only popular feeling, but national importance.

I have not been able to trace with any accuracy or satisfaction that portion or branch of the O’Reilly family to which my hero belonged.  The dreary lapse of time, and his removal from the country, have been the means of sweeping into oblivion every thing concerning him, with the exception of his love for Miss Folliard, and its strange consequences.  Even tradition is silent upon that part of the subject, and I fear that any attempt to throw light upon it must end only in disappointment.  I have reason to believe that the Counsellor Fox, who acted as his advocate, was never himself raised to the bench; but that that honor was reserved for his son, who was an active judge a little before the close of the last century.