He seldom spoke, and

alluring him to Donore. never eat in the presence of any one, and slept always with the cows. His brutified state did not prevent his evincing the most devoted attachment to his master; and it is stated, as an unquestionable fact, that, on the death of Sir James, this Irish Orson exclaimed, in an agony of grief, and in the Irish language: "Oh! James! James! why did not you wait three little days more, and you'd have me along with you?" After this, the poor creature never spoke more; he rejected all sustenance, drooped, and in three days was found dead. Soon after having been caught, as I may express it, his portrait, asserted to be strictly faithful, was painted in oil; and, what adds to the singularity of the whole, is, that the portrait was executed by a man then house butler to Sir James, and who was afterwards sent to Italy to improve himself in the art. The painting, in its spirit and general excellence of execution, is highly respectable; it is a three-quarter length, naked to the waist, and the hands grasping a club. The features are regular, and the character of the countenance, a severe intelligence, indicating no degree whatever of mental imbecility. At the first glance it strongly reminded me of Young, the tragedian, in the character of Octavian, in the Mountaineers. The temporary calm and atmospheric oppression which suspended our amusement, was succeeded, during our examination of the house, by strong squalls, suggesting the necessity of a speedy return to our own side of the lake; we accordingly re-embarked, but had not proceeded far, when the wind arose to a perfect storm, involving peals of thunder and hail-showers, a singular circumstance

at such a season. Suddenly the waves rose to such a height, that their curling heads threatened every moment to break upon our little bark

"The vexed spirit of the angry waters shrieked."

And I must confess that I felt a degree of dismay that very much qualified my sporting ardour, but our row-men were excellent and our vessel a good sea boat. It appeared to me not a little singular that, in the midst of this contention of the elements, the trout were rising in every direction, and one took my companion's tail fly, a hedgehog on the troll; the music of the reel chased at once from my mind all sense of danger, and we lay to, and, tossed as we were and the spray breaking upon us, we succeeded in landing a fine trout, of about six pounds weight, after a play of more than fifteen minutes. Having mingled the exulting cuckoo note with the angry blast, we sped our way with lusty oar, and landed, thankful to Providence for our safety, although every one of us was drenched with rain and the breaking waves. You may easily figure to yourself that when we reached home we relished, with more than ordinary enjoyment, a cheerful turf fire, and the hospitalities of a plain but well served table.

CHAP. III.

"Hopeless to find, yet loth to leave unsought.'

THE storm of the preceding day was succeeded by a morning so still, and bright, and warm, that, although hope and patience are the legitimate supporters of the angler's heraldic shield, we found ourselves, with respect to the expectation of any sport on the lake, just in the frame of mind described in the above quotation from our matchless bard; but, let me place you in my situation, and, "my dukedom to a beggarly denier," you would rather unprofitably lash the waters the whole day, or pick pebbles on the shore, than be condemned to the heart-sinking, allsubduing, miserable monotony of an Irish village, through the sleepy progress of a long summer's day. On looking from my bed-chamber window, what do I see? Half a dozen idle boys, or overgrown louts, wasting their prime in sluggish vegetation, playing hand-ball against one of the end walls of an uncouth dilapidated market-house, and accompanying their game with oaths, execrations, and wrangling, shewing how little morality, religion, and their civilizing influence there is among the lower orders in this Island of Saints. In another place, two or three bare-legged girls beetling* clothes in the remnant of a

* Although I believe that the beetle, as an instrument used in washing linen, is not wholly unknown in England, it may be

nearly dried up stream, the noise of whose morning labours, together with the sharp encounters of those minute and sable animals, whom the great virtuoso, Sir Joseph Banks, discovered not to be lobsters, awakened me from a dream, in which I thought, and indeed felt, as if a swarm of bees were punishing me for having approached too near their hive. With the solution of this dream I believe you are already possessed. One or two shops, containing the necessaries of life, yet closed, but all the ale-houses open; and the straggling misshapen street, with the exceptions already mentioned, as silent and desolate as as Wilson's city of the plague. But, you may ask, would not the scene become more busy and amusing through the day, or might I not appeal to the resources of a circulating library against the influence of ennui? Alas! my friend, this would be the interrogatory of a mere Englishman. In an Irish village the whole day would increase your population, or diversify your objects, only by the accession of a family of itinerant beggars, entering, sans ceremonie, every door they find open; the ragged post-boy of a neighbouring squire, riding on a half-shod ragged mule,coming for more letters than will be welcome to their receivers, and agreeable in the perusal ; a travelling tinker, or a wretched and barbarous litigant, seeking law that he does not understand, or good ad

unknown to you. It is an oblong, weighty piece of wood, capable of being wielded by one hand, and with which a female, after saturating the linen she is cleansing, beats it on a smooth stone, repeating the process until satisfied that her work is accomplished. This is not a very erudite note, but it is necessary. -G. G.

vice, which he is determined not to take. And, as to the circulating library, that medicine of sick minds, which is to be had in every English village, and where a man may always take refuge from his own fancies, in those of other men, you will find no such thing in an Irish country town, and scarcely such even in the metropolis; a circumstance strongly militating against the character of the Irish, as a reading people, and still more as a thinking people-each description is vitally dependent on the other. The case thus stated, you will not wonder that, accompanied by my good-natured village friend, I preferred passing the day on the lake, and to render ourselves independent of the restraints of domestic hours and regularity, which I would strongly recommend to the earnest angler always to do, we brought with us a cold dinner, not omitting a quantum sufficit of the diluting mixtures. The lake angler should, in this respect, be provided, not only for himself, but for his oarsmen, who labour hard, rowing him over the several trout shoals, or to the many points to which he may be invited by curiosity and pleasure.

Between the Irish and English peasant, there is this strong, distinctive character. John Bull will work just as much as he finds comfortable, while you give him enough to eat, and Pat will work more than he is able, (this is an Irishism only in expression) if you but occasionally comfort him with a drop of the native, (i.e.whiskey). There is another distinction, and a broad one too, which justice requires me to mention. My countryman must not only be well fed, but he must be well paid into the bargain; while