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quicksilver inside, but presses upon that in the basin; the all other animals upon the earth, and also by the quantity of quicksilver in the tube, which tends naturally to fall down fuel burned all over the globe, it will be evident that without into the basin, is thus forced to remain up in the tube by the some regulating power superior to all that mere human means pressure of external air ; and it rises so high that the pres- could devise, the air might ultimately become unfit to be the sure inside, of the quicksilver, and outside, of the air, is sustenance of living beings, and all the numerous tribes of equal. If the pressure of the air diminishes, the quicksilver animated nature which now adorn its surface, would be defalls; if the pressure of the air increases, the quicksilver stroyed. rises : and as all great changes of the air are connected with By the all-wise arrangement of Providence, however, the changes of the weather, the barometer is generally known animals, in thus converting the oxygen of the air into carboand consulted as a sort of weather-glass.
nic acid, become the means of supplying nourishment to Every space of an inch square supports fifteen pounds another class of beings equally interesting and numerous. weight of air ; at the rate of ten ounces to a hogshead, the All vegetables breathe; but as animals take in too much cardepth of the air would therefore be about five miles. But it bon with their solid food, so do plants obtain too little from is much deeper, for air is what is termed compressible--that the substances that give nourishment to their roots. The is to say, it may by pressure be squeezed into a smaller bulk; animal breathes to give off carbon, the vegetable breathes and hence the air next the ground, being compressed by the to take it up. The two great divisions of living nature thus portions above it, is much the heaviest portion. At three act in contrary ways upon the air; the oxygen consumed miles high a hogshead of air weighs only five ounces, and by the animal or by combustion, is given out again by the at eight miles high only two ounces; hence the limits of the carbon of the carbonic acid becoming fixed in the plant of air are much farther removed, and it is known to extend to which it forms the woorly mass; and thus the composition of at least forty miles.
the air is kept balanced at its proper point, and provision for The office of the air is to support animal life: no animal the due nutrition of animals and vegetables is secured. can live without air: even fishes require air. The water in The air we breathe serves, however, for other important which they swim contains air mixed with it, and this water
Without the air, the fresh breczes which moderate the washing the gills, which are their lunes, serves to them as heats of summer could not exist, and there would prevail in the air directly acts on us. If we boil water until the air nature an eternal silence, for it is by means of air that we is expelled from it, and let it cool in a close vessel, we may not only breathe, but hear. The variety of aspect given to drown a fish by putting it into such water, as easily as a land the sky by the formation and rapid change of clouds, arises animal; it could not breathe. It is thus that in the lakes on from the mixture of warm and of cold damp air. If there the tops of very high mountains there are no fi. h. The heights was no air, there might be dew, but there could never be are deserted by land and by water animals, in consequence of a cloud. the air being too thin to support life. The way in which the Without the air we could not have the bright blue sky air acts upon the body is very interesting. The most abun- which gives to our fine season its greatest charm. The dant element of our food is what the chemists term carbon, heavens would be a vault of intense black, in which the sun of which, in a gross manner, charcoal may serve as an exam- would appear alone a glaring ball of fire, whose rays, unmitiple. Now, we cat much more of this than we require for the gated by the air which now absorbs them in their passage supply of our bodies, and it must be got rid of. This is done through its mass, would be a continual source of ill. The blue by its uniting in the hocły with a substance termed oxygon, sky, the bright white clouds, arise from the sun's rays being and forming carbonic acid, the sort of air which boils up in partly stopped, and turnevi from one object to another. T}. soda water and singer beer. This dissolves in the blood, co- sun's rasspoglly consist rot light of all the colours of the rai. louring it a deep purpls, and escapes from it whea by the action bow; at those ile red portion is lost in passing through the of the heart the black blood is exposed to the action of the air air, and the blue reinin, viving the colour we observe. Witlion the surface of the lungs. Now, the office of the air is to out the air, a plare sharland from the sun would be in absoluto supply this oxygen which removes the carbou from the blood., darkness; as it now exists, a quantity of light is scatterer? But the air is not pure oxygen. If it were, it would act too about in every way by the different portions of the air, and violently. An animal which breathes.pure oxygen, becomes thus an agreeable shad provided in place of the total absence flushed, pants violently, and, if not choked, dies of intlam- of all light. On very clevated tops of mountains, where the mation of the lungs, produced by the intense action. in the traveller is placed above the greater portion of the air, all air we breathe, the oxygen gas is diluted to the proper de- these effects of its absence which we have noticed, are found gree by another gas, termed nitrogen, which is totally des- | to exist. On the summit of Mont Blanc, a pistol distitute of power ; it does of itself no good and no harm ; it charged is scarcely heard, and a companion once out of is the only substance that could be mixed in the air we breathe, sight, may be lost; for neither can he produce any noise by without interfering in any way. When thus the blood loses, his own exertions, nor could his voice reach his friends, even by exposure to the air in the lungs, its carbonic acid, it takes if he could speak; the sky is deep indigo-coloured, or nearly oxygen in its place; from dark purple it becomes bright red, black; and those objects on which the sun's light does not and is then proper to take up a fresh quantity of carbon, directly fall, are seen with difficulty. and to sustain the body in health by its removal.
Such are the uses of the common air we breathe. Such are When any thing burns in the air, it is the oxygen which the benefits we derive from a blessing, of whose existence is active. The nitrogen dilutes here also the oxygen, and when at rest we are almost unconscious. keeps its activity down to the degree most suitable to our wants. If the air were pure oxygen, all our domestic fires would be violent conflagrations; our iron pokers and tongs, if heated red hot, would take fire and burn like squibs; no
ABSENCE or Mind.--A well-known gentleman of Magdacomfort, no safety for society could exist. But in burniny, len College, Cambridge, had taken his watch from his pocket, this oxygen is destroyed. "If a candle be placed lighted to mark the time he intended to boil an egg for his breakfast, under a glass bell, it will, after a little, go out.
The air when a friend entering the room, found him absorbed in some will become unfit to support combustion. Here also, as well abstruse calculation, with the egg in his hand, upon which he as in the burning of coals, coke, gas, oil, charcoal, &c. the
was intently looking, and the watch supplying its place in the oxygen is changed into carbonic acid, and precisely as a fresh saucepan of boiling water. supply of oxygen is necessary for the continuance of life, so is it for combustion,
Early Rising.–Six or seven hours' sleep is certainly sufThe air contains about one part in five of oxygen, and, as
ficient, and no one ought to exceed eight. To make sleep rehas been seen, this oxygen is liable to continual destruction freshing, the following things are requisite :- To take suffiby the breathing of animals and the burning of fuel and of cient exercise in the open air ; to avoid strong tea or coffee ; lights. An ordinary man spoils in twenty-four hours 720 ful and serene as possible. We hardly ever knew an early
to eat a light supper; and to lie down with a mind as cheer. cubic feet of air, that is, a mass of air 11 feet 6 inches square riser who did not enjoy a good state of health. It consists and 6 feet thick. The burning of three ounces of charcoal, or of a mould candle of six to the pound, produces the same
with observation, that all very old men have been early risers.
This is the only circumstance attending longevity, to which effect. It is not unusual in a factory to burn ten tons of coal
we never knew an exception. a-day, which spoils 3,185,760 cubic feet of air, a mass of a quarter of a mile square and six feet thick. If we multiply Printed and Published every Saturday by Gunn and Cameron, at the Office these numbers by the number of inhabitants, of man and of of the General Advertiser, 6 Church Lane, College Green, Dublin,
THE ROCK OF CASHEL, AS SEEN FROM THE SOUTH. To such of our readers as have not had the good fortune to two side-towers, in the Norman style of the eleventh and see the ancient metropolis of Munster, our prefixed illustra- twelfth centuries-also in good preservation. tion will, it is hoped, give some general idea of the situation 3d, A Cathedral, with nave, choir, and transepts, in the and grandeur of a group of ruins, which on various accounts pointed style of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, now in claim to rank as the most interesting in the British islands. ruins, but which was originally only second in extent and the Ancient buildings of greater extent and higher architectural magnificence of its architecture to the cathedrals in our own splendour may indeed be found elsewhere; but in no other metropolis. spot in the empire can there be seen congregated together so 4th, A strong Castle, which served as the palace of the many structures of such different characters and uses, and of Archbishops of Cashel. such separate and remote ages; their imposing effect being 5th, The Vicar's Hall, and the mansions of the inferior ecstrikingly heightened by the singularity and grandeur of their clesiastical officers of the Cathedral, which are also in ruins. situation, and the absence from about them of any objects If, then, the reader will picture to himself such a group of that might destroy the associations they are so well calculated buildings, standing in solitary grandeur on a lofty, isolated, to excite. To give an adequate idea, however, of this magni- and on some sides precipitous rock, in the midst of the green ficent architectural assemblage, would require not one, but a luxuriant plains of the Golden Vale,” he may be able to form series of views, from its various surrounding sides. These we some idea of the various aspects of sublimity and picturesque shall probably furnish in the course of our future numbers ; ness which it is so well calculated to assume, and of the exand in the mean time we may state, that the buildings of citing interest it must necessarily create even in minds of the which it is composed are the following :
lowest degree of intellectuality. Viewed from any point, it is, 1st, An Ecclesiastical Round Tower, in perfect preservar indeed, such a scene as, once beheld, would impress itself on the tion.
memory for ever. 2d, Cormac's Chapel, a small stone-roofed church, with It would appear from our ancient histories that the Rock
of Cashel was the site of the regal fortress of the Kings of To give any detailed description of the architectural feaMunster, from ages anterior to the preaching of the gospel tures of these various edifices, would extend beyond the space in Ireland; and it is stated in the ancient lives of our patron prescribed by the limits of our little Journal for a single paper; Saint, that the monarch Engus, the son of Nathfraoich, was yet, as some description will be expected of us, we shall briefly here converted, with his family, and the nobles of Munster, by state a few particulars. St Patrick in the fifth century. It would appear also from the The round tower—the more ancient remain upon the same authorities, that at this period there was a Pagan tem- Rock—is fift feet in circumference and ninety feet in ple within the fortress, which the Irish apostle destroyed; and height; it contains five stories, has four apertures at top, and though it is nowhere distinctly stated, as far as we are able to has its doorway twelve feet from the ground. discover, that a Christian church was founded on its site in Cormac's Chapel consists of a nave and choir, but has neither that age, the fact that it was so, may fairly be inferred from transepts nor lateral aisles. It is richly decorated in the Norman the statement in the Tripartite Life of the Saint, in which it style of the time, both exteriorly and interiorly; and the entire is stated that no less than seventeen kings, descended from length of the building is fifty-three feet. There are crypts Ængus and his brother Oilioll, being ordained monks, reign- between the arches of the choir and nave and the stone roof; ed at Cashel, from the time of St Patrick to the reign of Cinn- and there is a square tower on each side of the building, at the geoghan, who, according to the Annals of Innisfallen, was junction of the nave and choir. Taken as a whole, there is no deposed in the year 901, Cormac MacCuilleanan being set up specimen of its kind in the British empire so perfect or curious. in his place. However this may be, it can hardly admit of The cathedral, as already stated, consists of a choir, nave, doubt that a church was erected, if not at that time, at least and transepts, with a square tower in the centre. The some centuries afterwards, as appears from the existing greatest length, from east to west, is about two hundred and round tower, which is unquestionably of an age considerably ten feet, and the breadth in the transepts is about a hundred anterior to any of the other structures now remaining. It is and seventy feet. There are no side aisles, and the windows said, indeed, and popularly believed, that a cathedral church are of the lancet form, usual in the twelfth and thirteenth was erected here in the ninth century by the King-Bishop centuries. A century has not yet elapsed since this magniCormac MacCuilleanan; and if we had historical authority ficent pile was doomed to destruction, and that by one who for this supposition, we might conclude, with every proba- should have been its most zealous preserver. Archbishop bility, that the round tower was of that age. But no such Price, who succeeded to this see in 1744, and died in 1752, evidence has been found, and Cashel is only noticed in our an- not being able, as tradition states, to drive in his carriage up nals as a regal residence of the Munster kings, till the begin the steep ascent to the church door, procured an act of parning of the twelfth century, when, at the year 1101, it is stated liament to remove the cathedral from the Rock of Cashel into in the Annals of the Four Masters, that "a convocation of the the town, on which the roof was taken off for the value of the people of Leoth Mogha, or the southern half of Ireland, was lead, and the venerable pile was abandoned to ruin ! held at Cashel, at which Murtough O'Brien, with the nobles Of the remarkable historical events connected with these of the laity and clergy, and O'Dunan, the illustrious bishop ruins, our space will only permit us to state, that in 1495 ansl chief senior of Ireland, attended, and on which occasion the cathedral was burned by Gerald, the eighth Earl of KilMurtough O'Brien made such an offering as king never made | dare; for which act, being accused before the king, his excuse before him, namely, Cashel of the Kings, which he bestowed was, that it was true, but that he would not have done so but on the devout, without the intervention of a laic or an ecclesi. that he had supposed the archbishop was in it; and his canastic, but for the use of the religious of Ireland in general.” dour was rewarded with the chief governorship of Ireland ! The successor of this monarch, Cormac MacCarthy, being de- In 1647, the cathedral-being filled with a vast number of posed in 1127, as stated in the Annals of Innisfallen, com
persons, many of whom were ecclesiastics, who had fled thither menced the erection of the church, now popularly called for refuge and protection, a strong garrison having been placed “ Cormac's Chapel." He was, however, soon afterwards re- in it by Lord Taase_was taken by storm by the Lord Inchistored to his throne, and on the completion of this church it quin, with a considerable slaughter of the garrison and citiwas consecrated in 1134. This event is recorded by all our zens, including twenty ecclesiastics. It was again taken by ancient annalists in nearly the following words :
Cromwell in the year 1619. “1134. The church built by Cormac MacCarthy at Cashel In conclusion, we shall only remark, that the venerable was consecrated this year by the archbishop and bishops of group of ruins of which we have attempted this slight sketch, Munster, at which ceremony the nobility of Ireland, both considered as an object of interest to pleasure tourists, and clergy and laity, were present."
those of our own country in particular, have not as yet been It can scarcely be doubted that this was the finest architec- sufficiently appreciated ; and that, as Sir Walter Scott truly tural work hitherto erected in Ireland, but its proportions remarked, though the scenery of our lakes and mountains may were small; and when, in 1152, the archbishopric of Munster be rivalled in many parts of the sister islands, there is nowas fixed at Cashel by Cardinal John Paparo, the papal le- thing of their class, viewed as a whole, comparable in interest gate, it became necessary to provide a church of greater am- with the ruins on the Rock of Cashel. plitude. The present cathedral was in consequence erected by Donald O'Brien, King of Limerick, and endowed with am- POETICAL PROPHECY OF BISHOP BERKELEY.- To our ple provisions in lands, and the older church was converted illustrious countryman, Bishop Berkeley, may be with justice into a chapel, or chapter-house.
applied what he himself says of his favourite, Plato, that But though the present ruined cathedral claims this very early
"he has joined with an imagination the most splendid and antiquity, its existing architectural features chiefly belong to a
magnificent, an intellect fully as deep and clear.” A morsel later age-namely, the commencement of the fifteenth cen
of poetry from such a writer ought to be preserved as a litetury, when, as appears from Wares's Antiquities, the cathe- rary curiosity, and as a proof of the great variety of his tadral was rebuilt by the archbishop, Richard O'Hedian, or at lents ; but when we consider that the following was written least repaired, from a very ruinous condition in which it then almost in a prophetic spirit, more than a century ago, and
The Vicar's Hall, &c. was also erected by this prelate; and it is not improbable that the castle was erected, or at leasi consequently long before the events to which he seems to alre-edified, at the same period It would appear, however, to claim upon our notice.
lude could well have been anticipated, it has an additional have been repaired as late as the sixteenth century, from the
“AMERICA, 1730. shields bearing the arms of Fitzgerald and Butler, which are
There shall be sung another golden age, sculptured on it--prelates these names having governed the see in succession in the early half of that century.
The rise of empires and of arts. The interior of the cathedral is crowded with monuments
The good and great inspiring epic rage,
The wisest heads and noblest hearts. of considerable antiquity; and the tomb of Cormac MacCarthy is to be seen on one side of the north porch, at the entrance
Not such as Europe breeds in her decay; to his chapel. It was opened above a century since, and a
Such as she bred when fresh and young, pastoral staff, of exquisite beauty, and corresponding in style
When heavenly flame did animate her clay, with the ornaments of the chapel, was extracted from it. It
By future poets shall be sung. is now in the possession of Mr Petrie. The cemetery con
Westward the course of empire bends its way tains no monument of any considerable age; but on the south
The four first acts already past, side there is a splendid but greatly dilapidated stone cross, A fifth shall close the drama and the day; which, there can be no doubt, belongs to the twelfth century.
Time's noblest offspring is the last.".
THE SCENERY AND ANTIQUITIES OF IRELAND and found to be just fifteen feet in height, as Harris the
antiquary had supposed before us, here appears to be more ILLUSTRATED,
than twenty feet! while the base of it, which to our eyes BY BARTLETT AND WILLIS.
always presented the appearance of a surface covered with “ Know thyself,” was the wise advice of the ancient Greek a sculptural design of a deer-hunt, by men, dogs, chariots, philosopher'; and it is certainly desirable that we should know and horses, is here an unadorned blank! The small round ourselves, and take every pains in our power to acquire self- tower in the middle ground, which, as we believed, stood knowledge. But the task is by no means an easy one ; and
on the very shore, nearly level with the Shannon, has in hence the poet Burns well exclaims,
this view mounted up the side of the hill. But what struck
us as furnishing the most remarkable proofs of our defect Oh, wad some power the giftie gi'e us,
of vision is, that the doorway of the great round tower, To see oursells as others see us ;
called O'Rourke's Tower, 'which, according to our meaIt wad frae monie a blunder free us,
surement, was five feet six inches in height, and placed at And foolish notion.
the distance of eight feet from the ground, is here represented What airs in dress and gait wad lea' us,
as at least twenty feet from it; and the stone wall of the And e'en devotion !"
cemetery, which, as it seemed to our perception, ran nearly Determined, however, as we for own part always are, to ac- from the doorway of the tower to within a few yards of the quire a knowledge of ourselves, we felt no small gratifica- cross, has no existence whatever in the print, its place being tion at the opportunity which, we presumed, would be amply occupied by some huge Druidical monument which we never afforded us by the work of Messrs Bartlett and Willis, the were able to see. The perspective in this view is also of a first an English artist, and the second an American litterateur, novel kind, and well worthy of the attention of the Irish who have left their homes, in a most commendable spirit of artists, and all those in Ireland who may hitherto have supphilanthropy, to depict our scenery and antiquities, and to tell posed that they knew something of this science. They will us all that it behoves us to know about them and ourselves. see that the level lines, or courses, on circular buildings, inWe accordingly lost not a moment in possessing ourselves of stead of ascending to the horizontal line when below it, dethe precious treasure that would, as we hoped, “ the giftie scend to some horizontal line of their own; and that in fact gi'e us, to see oursells as others see us;" and verily we must ac- there is not one horizontal line only in the picture, but perknowledge that our wonderment during its perúsal has been haps a dozen, which fully proves that our previous notions on excessive, and that it has convinced us that we never knew | this point were wholly erroneous. ourselves before, or ever saw any thing about us with proper But we must hurry on. What have we got next ? “ Clew eyes. Henceforward we shall be cautious how we trust to the Bay from West Port,” or “ Baie De Clew, vue de West evidence of our senses for any thing we may see, for it is Port.” Well, we believe this is intended for the beautiful Bay pretty plain that hitherto they have been of no manner of use of Westport, called Clew Bay; but, if so, what has become
They have deceived and bamboozled us our whole lives of the beautiful country of Murisk, renowned in Irish song, long; and from the present moment we will trust to none save which used to be situated at the base of Croagh Phadruig, or those of Messrs Bartlett and Willis—at least we will never Croagh Patric? And is this the noble Reek itself ? Good trust to our own.
heavens! but it must have suffered from some strange conThe very vignette on the title-page gave us some startling vulsion since we saw it; it has been actually torn into a pernotification of the fearful discovery that awaited us. We had pendicular cliff from its very summit to its base. But what flattered ourselves that we were quite familiar with all the are we thinking of? It was, we suppose, always so; and our remarkable features of Irish scenery, and should not fail at a not having observed it, is only a proof that we were never glance to identify any delineation of them, inasmuch as there able to look at it correctly—and we should know better in is not a river or lake in Ireland of any extent that we have future. not sailed on, not a mountain that we have not climbed, not a One peep more, and we shall have done. What is this? headland or island on our coast that we have not visited. But Scene from Cloonacartin Hill, Connemara. Ay, that's a scene here was a subject of a striking and most remarkable charac- we have looked at for many an hour. That group of jagged ter that appeared quite new to us, nor should we ever have and pointed mountains to the left is the glorious Twelve Pins been able to guess at it, if a friend to whom we applied for in- of Binnabeola. We never indeed saw them grouped so closely formation had not assured us, to our utter astonishment, that together, or standing so upright; but no matter : the hurrihe was informed it was nothing less than our old acquaintance cane of last year perhaps has blown them together, and carried the Giants' Causeway! The wonder at our blindness, however, away their sloping bases. But what do we see in the middle in some degree diminished when we perceived -- if we can guess ground? The two lakes of Derry Clare and Lough Ina joined at the only point from which such a view could be obtained in one; and the rapid and unnavigable river which united that the ingenious artist had represented the sun setting in the them, or which we thought we saw there-- where is it? Non north ; for as often as we had been at the Causeway, we never est inventus : alas! alas! it is not to be found. Most wonderhad the observation or good fortune to witness such a sight. ful! Lough Ina, with its three little wooded islands, no longer We must confess, moreover, that our feelings of mortification exists as a separate lake. It has, however, now got ten islands at our ignorance were partly soothed, when we turned over to instead of three ; but, then, they are all bare--all, all !-and the next vignette, which we at once recognised by its bridge the ancient ones have lost their wood. In like manner the flat to have been intended for Poul-a-phuca, or, as Messrs Bartlett heathy grounds between the mountains and the lakes to the and Willis name it, more correctly we presume, Phoula right, have wholly disappeared, and nothing but water is to be Phuca! We cannot, however, state the impression left on our seen in their place. minds by each of the prints in succession; but we shall take a But our limits will not permit us to notice any more of Mr glance at two or three of them; and when we have pointed Bartlett's innunerable discoveries, which are equally remarkout the particulars that most confounded us in each, we can able in all his other views ; so, after making him our gratehave little doubt that such of our readers as have never seen ful bow, we turn to the labours of his coadjutor, the celethe places they are intended to represent, will concur in the brated author of “ Pencillings by the Way,” &c., little doubtconviction that has been forced upon us by our inspection of ing that by his lucubrations we shall be equally edified and them.
astonished. Mr Willis does not attempt a description of The first of them that astounded us beyond measure was the scenes depicted by his co-labourer--it would, perhaps, be that called “. Ancient Cross, Clonmacnoise.” At this place a difficult task for him, as in the instance of the view from we had erewhile spent some of our happiest hours, meditat- Cloonacartin Hill, which we have noticed. But instead ing among its tombs, and admiring alike its various ancient thereof, he treats us to peneillings of his own of a very architectural remains, and the sublimely desolate but appro- graphic character, and usually as little like nature, as we priate character of its natural scenery. So familiar had we had supposed it in Ireland, as even the drawings of Mr grown with this most exciting scene, that we thought that Bartlett. The chief difference between them is, that while we should have been able to identify every stone in it blind the sketches of the one are landscape, those of the other are fold; but that was all a mistake: we båd only a dim and generally in the figure line; and after the model of the Dutch erroneous vision of its features; we saw nothing accurately. masters, mostly consisting of hackney-car drivers, waiters, For instance, the stone cross which forms the principal ob- chamber-maids, and, what his principal forte lies in, beggars ! ject in the foreground, and which gives name to this sub- In his sketches of the latter he beats Callot himself; they are ject—this cross, which we had often drawn and measured, I evidently drawn for love of the thing. After witnessing the
splendid failure at Eglintoun Castle,” Mr Willis embarks at bufe's pictures of Adam and Eve, and sagaciously remarks Port-Patrick, and lands at Donaghadee. This he tells us he did how curious it is to observe how particularly clean they are in imitation of St Patrick, “who evidently,” like Mr Willis, (that is, Adam and Eve) before they sinned, and how very “ knew enough of geography to decide which point of Scot dingy after-being dirtied by their fall; and, what was very land was nearest to the opposite shore.” This was new to agreeable to him, the exhibitor of the pictures actually called us; but it should be noted in chronicles. He then travels him by name, having remembered seeing the great penciller on an Irish car to Belfast, and, like more of our modern in America! After having read the advertisements stuck on visitors who favour us with their lucubrations, gives us a every wall, of “ vessels bound to New York,” and having sketch of the said car, horse, and its driver, which, of “ done that end of the town," he returned towards the inn. course, are all singular things in their way. The pencilling, He then sallied out again to do the other end, and tells us with however, is a pleasant one enough, as it shows us that the car. great satisfaction of a successful petty larceny of a very sendriver very soon smoked the character of the travellers he had timental kind which he achieved in the Botanical Gardens to take care of, and quizzed accordingly in a very proper and namely, plucking a heart's-ease, as an expressive remembrance creditable Irish style. After a dangerous journey Mr Willis of his visit-“ in spite of a cautionary placard, and the keeper arrives safely in Belfast, and proceeds to give us his sketch standing under the porch and looking on.” After this feat he of its inhabitants in the following words :
returned to the inn, and very wisely
went to bed. “A bare“It was market-day at Belfast, and the streets were footed damsel, with very pink heels"-recollect, reader, that thronged with the country people, the most inactive crowd this was in the Donegal Arms—“was of human beings, it struck me, that I had ever seen. The
My grim chamberlain, women were all crouching under their grey cloaks, or squat. Who lighted me to bed;' ting upon the thills of the potato-carts, or upon steps or curb- and in some fear of oversleeping the hour for the coach in the stones; and the men were leaning where there was any thing morning, I reiterated, and sealed with a silver token,' my to lean against, or dragging their feet heavily after them, in request to be waked at six. Fortunately for a person who a listless lounge along the pavement. It was difficult to re- possesses Sancho's ‘alacrity at sleep,' the noise of a coach member that this was the most energetic and mercurial po- rattling over the pavement woke me just in time to save my pulation in the world ; yet a second thought tells one that coffee and my place. I returned to my chamber the mothere is an analogy in this to the habits of the most powerful ment before mounting the coach for something I had forgotof the animal creation---the lion and the leopard, when not ten, and as the clock was striking eight, the faithful damsel excited, taking their ease like the Irishman."
knocked at my door and informed me that it was past sir." Men of Belfast, what think you of that ? But hear him Mr Willis is a fortunate traveller. Often as we have stopped out
at the Donegal Arms, we never had the good fortune to see “I had thought, among a people so imaginative as the Irish, the pink heels or bare legs of a chambermaid ; and the moto have seen some touch of fancy in dress, if ever so poor-a ral economy of the house must be greatly changed also, when bit of ribbon on the women's caps, or a jaunty cock of the they allow the gentlemen to be called by the said bare-legged
boy's' tile, or his jacket or coat worn shapely and with an damsels ; a duty which, in our visits at it and all other respectaair. But dirty cloaks, ribbonless caps, uncombed hair, and ble hotels, always devolved on that useful personage called not even a little straw taken from the cart and put under Boots. We do not think, however, that this change of the systhem when they sat on the dirty side-walk, were universal tem-leaving the calling of the gentlemen to the chambermaids symptoms that left no room for belief in the existence of any – would work well, except in the case of American travellers. vanity whatsoever in the women ; many of them of an age, Still, however, as he says, he was in time, and started offtoo, when such fancies are supposed to be universal to the sex. no longer in St Patrick's track, but on King William's route The men could scarce be less ornamental in their exteriors; to the battle of the Boyne--and arrives in Drogheda to dinner. but the dirty sugar-loaf hat, with a shapeless rim, and a twine He tells us that the country is very bare of wood, and then around it to hold a pipe; the coat thrown over the shoulders, proceeds in the following words to describe the habitations. with the sleeves hanging behind; the shoes mended by a wisp * But what shall I say of the human habitations in this (so of straw stuffed into the holes, and their faces and bare breasts called) most thriving and best-conditioned quarter of Ireland? nearly as dirty as their feet, were alike the uniform of old and If I had not seen every second face at a hovel-door with a young. Still those who were not bargaining were laughing, smile on it, and heard laughing and begging in the same breath and even in our flourishing canter through the market I had everywhere, I should think here were human beings abandoned time to make up my mind, that if they had taken a farewell of by their Maker. Many of the dwellings I saw upon the road. vanity, they had not of fun.”
side looked to me like the abodes of extinguished hope-forAgain we say, men of Belfast, what think you of that? gotten instincts-grovelling, despairing, nay, almost idiotic Did you ever see yourselves in this manner ? If so, we must wretchedness. I did not know there were such sights in the say that it is more than we ever did, though we have spent world. I did not know that men and women, upright, and many a gay week in your noble, thriving, and most indus- made in God's image, could live in styes, like swine, with swine trious town. “Neither a bit of ribbon on the women's caps, --sitting, lying down, cooking and eating in such filth as all nor a jaunty cock of the boy's tile;” no, "but the dirty sugar- brute animals, save the one 'unclean,' revolt from and avoid. loaf hat, with a shapeless rim, and a twine round it to hold a The extraordinary part of it, too, is, that it seems almost pipe; and the shoes mended by a wisp of straw stuffed into the altogether the result of choice. I scarce saw one ḥovel, the holes,” &c. This certainly flogs; and we must look more at- mud-floor of which was not excavated several inches below tentively to the Belfastians in future.
the ground-level without; and as there is no sill, or raised Mr Willis proceeds to the hotel called the Donegal Arms, threshold, there is no bar, I will not say to the water, but to which he allows is a handsome house, in a broad and handsome the liquid filth that oozes to its lower reservoir within. A few street; and then he adds, " But I could not help pointing out miles from Drogheda, I pointed out to my companions a woman to my companion the line of soiled polish at the height of a sitting in a hovel at work, with the muddy water up to her man's shoulder on every wall and doorpost within sight, show- ancles, and an enormous hog seratching himself against her ing, with the plainness of a high-water mark, the average knee. These disgusting animals were everywhere walking in height as well as the prevailing habit of the people. We cer- and out of the hovels at pleasure, jostling aside the half-naked tainly have not yet found time to acquire that polish in America children, or wallowing in the wash, outside or in—the best[most civilized people!]; and if we must wait till the work conditioned and most privileged inmates, indeed, of every ing classes find time to lean, it will be a century or two at habitation. All this, of course, is matter of choice, and so least before we can show as polished an hot as the Donegal is the offal-heap, situated, in almost every instance, directly Arms at Belfast, or (at that particular line above the side before the door, and draining its putrid mass into the hollow, walk) as polished a city altogether.” Such is Mr Willis's under the peasant's table. Yet mirth does live in these places description of the Gresham's Hotel of Belfast, a house which people do smile on you from these squalid abodes of wretched. we had foolishly thought was remarkable for its cleanliness, ness—the rose of health does show itself upon the cheeks of order, and good accommodation. Of course he got a miser- children, whose cradle is a dung-heap, and whose play-fellows able dinner of “unornamented chops and potatoes," after which are hogs! And of the beings who live thus, courage, wit, and he proceeded to visit the lions of Belfast. But we cannot quenchless love of liberty, are the undenied and universal follow him in all his wanderings, though he tells us many characteristics. Truly, that mysterious law of nature by which things that are not a little amusing, as, for instance, that the corruption paints the rose and feeds the fragrant cup of the : bonses have a noseless and flattened aspect; that he saw Du- lily, is not without its similitude! Who shall say what is