about four pounds weight. We then fished the Ca. van shore, from Lord Tara's lodge up to Colonel Barry's cottage; off Somerville, Counsellor Cottingham's lodge, I hooked a trout that I verily believe could not have weighed less than twelve pounds; our Lough-Sheelan rowman, who had been all his life fishing that water, declared he had never seen so large a fish take the fly. [How mortifying then it must have been to lose such a bully! he sprung to a great height over the water, and in his fall, owing, I confess, to my mismanagement, gave the foot line a jerk, by which it broke the upper link, and he carried all away. If you want to see when a man really looks blank, contrive to view him in the situation and expression which I then exhibited. At the upper or Mount-Nugent end of the lake, is an old castle, situated on a small rocky island, serving in extent for little more than the base of the building; it is called Crover Castle, and gives the name of Crover to that end of the lake, where there is an excellent shoal for the lie of fish. Angling here, we encountered a distinguished local angler, named Thady Byrne, who, whether he be the most persevering, most lucky, or the best sportsman, is in the habit of catching more fish than any one of his competitors on the lake. He was obliging enough to give me a hackle of his own tying, which he called "my uncle," and with which, although coarsely executed, I killed

• Since Mr. Greendrake's visit, poor Thady Byrne has, himself, been hooked by the relentless and insatiate poacher, Death, and safely landed.-ED.

In one drift on that shore two trout, each weighing more than eight pounds. This was on the 3d of June; they were the handsomest trout of their weight that I ever killed; and, going on shore, I had them packed in dry straw, (it is quite a mistaken plan to pack fish in fresh grass, or any thing damp) and, directing them to a friend in Dublin, connected with the court, I got a sturdy, active messenger on the spot, who, travelling all night, and without stopping, reached town time enough to have the produce of "my uncle" displayed on the Viceregal table, in honor of the King's birthday.

Being curious to land on Crover-Island, and examine the old castle, Thady Byrne accompanied us, He appeared a shrewd fellow, and I hoped to have gotten from him some traditional and legendary accounts respecting the ancient history of the Castle. All I could collect from him was, that it had been a fastness or strong retreat of a chieftain of the olden times, of the name of O'Reilly. Every thing here seems to have belonged to the O'Reilly's; and one would imagine that there had not been an inhabitant in this district of another name. One little circum, stance interested my antiquarian feelings very much. He told us that, about two years preceding, he found, among the ruins of Crover, where he acknowledged he had been digging in search of supposed hidden treasure, a harp-tuning key, of a singular shape, made of brass, and, considering the supposed length of time it had lain there, in very good preservation; having been closely involved in the fallen ruin, it was protected from the action of the external air. The

circumstance forcibly directed my ideas and reflec tions to the poetical glories of this land of song, and its native instrument of sound.

"The harp, that once through Tara's hall
The soul of music shed,"

rung again in my ear, and my fancy was vivid in painting the now fallen and grass-grown ruin of Crover Castle, as the scene of long past revelry and chieftain pride. I beheld, to " my mind's eye," the hoary bard striking the note of subject praise, and genealogical verse, while his rude and barbarous lord, under the excitation of wine and song, became an object of not less terror, perhaps, to his friends than to his enemies; and his love and happiness partaking of the character of his hate and warfare. Civilization! how great thy blessings! even in thy vices there is a security which the virtues of barbarism cannot afford. National egotism may look back through the delusive vista of time, and people, with the attractive creations of poety, a period which knew nothing but brutal ignorance and passion, and the faithless and ferocious transactions of wild and lawless indulgence. But, to the reign of knowledge and civilization belongs that subjection of passion and direction of reason, that imparts form, and system, and permanency to all the essential blessings of life, and the defined and rational virtues that exalt man in the scale of his being, and make social benefits hereditable to

his posterity. I find that my subject has grown upon me, and that I must reserve to another chapter, the conclusion of my excursion to Lough-Sheelan.

Ferd:

CHAP. VI.

"Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made;
These are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea change,

Into something rich and strange;

Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell—

Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong-bell."

"The ditty does remind my drown'd father:-
This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes.-"

SHAKSPEARE.

LOUGH-SHEELAN.

THE following day, my piscatory friend and I revisited the waters of Lough-Sheelan, and trusting to the polite attention of the gentlemen residing on its shores, for the accommodation of a boat, we did not take with us our Calliban of the lakes, the redoubtable Larry. Our confidence was not disappointed,

and we were most obligingly supplied by Mr. Nugent, whom I mentioned in my last letter, with a boat and

rowers.

We proceeded up to the right towards Crover Castle, careful to fish Rotheram's bay or shoal, as it is called, after a most worthy and respected gentleman of that name, residing in the neighbourhood, at a place called Sallymount, and who had been an excellent angler, while the state of his health pe.mitted an indulgence in that and other rural amusements. His name has not lost its distinction in this respect, as his eldest son, a gentleman esteemed by all who have the pleasure of knowing him, is acknowledged one of the most scientific, and perhaps the most successful, angler on the lakes. No man's landing net is oftener out in a day's fishing, and, what with his skill and the help of "the green monkey," no man's cuckoo note of triumph is oftener heard upon the waters of West. meath. He was on Lough Sheelan this day, and I feel it a pleasing duty to acknowledge his polite and kind attention. On passing his boat I enquired what he took with; and he was not only candid and liberal enough to make me acquainted with his killing fly, but to give me a cinnamon and green drake, of his own tying the latter a monkey. With his cinna. mon I took in two good trout-and with his monkey drake three, of not less, in the aggregate weight, thán fifteen pounds, until, on the shoal close by Crover, I was taken by a fish that must have weighed eight or ten pounds, and which carried away my whole foot. line, cinnamon, monkey, and all, by which my sport that day was considerably suspended. Mr. E. Ro