They are gone, those heroes of royal birth, Oh, never again will Princes appear, Oh, dear are the images my memory calls up I am Mac Liag, and my home is on the Lake: COLUMN FOR THE YOUNG. BIOGRAPHY OF A MOUSE. M. "BIOGRAPHY of a mouse!" cries the reader; "well, what shall we have next?-what can the writer mean by offering such nonsense for our perusal ?" There is no creature, reader, however insignificant and unimportant in the great scale of creation it may appear to us, short-sighted mortals that we are, which is forgotten in the care of our own common Creator; not a sparrow falls to the ground unknown and unpermitted by Him; and whether or not you may derive interest from the biography even of a mouse, you will be able to form a better judgment after, than before, having read my paper. The mouse belongs to the class Mammalia, or the animals which rear their young by suckling them; to the order Rodentia, or animals whose teeth are adapted for gnawing; to the genus Mus, or Rat kind, and the family of Mus musculus, or domestic mouse. The mouse is a singularly beautiful little animal, as no one who examines it attentively, and without prejudice, can fail to discover. Its little body is plump and sleek; its neck short; its head tapering and graceful; and its eyes large, prominent, and sparkling. Its manners are lively and interesting, its agility surprising, and its habits extremely cleanly. There are several varieties of this little creature, amongst which the best known is the common brown mouse of our granaries and store-rooms; the Albino, or white mouse, with red eyes; and the black and white mouse, which is more rare and very delicate. I mention these as varieties, for I think we may safely regard them as such, from the fact of their propagating unchanged, preserving their difference of hue to the fiftieth generation, and never accidentally occurring amongst the offspring of differently coloured parents. It is of the white mouse that I am now about to treat, and it is an account of a tame individual of that extremely pretty variety that is designed to form the subject of my present paper. When I was a boy of about sixteen, I got possession of a white mouse; the little creature was very wild and unsocial at first, but by dint of care and discipline I succeeded in rendering it familiar. The principal agent I employed towards effecting its domestication was a singular one, and which, though I can assure the reader its effects are speedy and certain, still remains to me inexplicable: this was, ducking in cold water; and by resorting to this simple expedient, have since succeeded in rendering even the rat as tame and as playful as a kitten. It is out of my power to explain the manner in which ducking operates on the animal subjected to it, but I wish that some physiologist more experienced than I am would give his attention to the subject, and favour the public with the result of his reflections. At the time that I obtained possession of this mouse, I was residing at Olney, in Buckinghamshire, a village which I presume my readers will recollect as connected with the names of Newton and Cowper; but shortly after having succeeded in rendering it pretty tame, circumstances required my removal to Gloucester, whither I carried my little favourite with me. During the journey I kept the mouse confined in a small wire cage; but while resting at the inn where I passed I the night, I adopted the precaution of enveloping the cage in a handkerchief, lest by some untoward circumstance its active little inmate might make its escape. Having thus, as I thought, made all safe, I retired to rest. The moment I awoke in the morning, I sprang from my bed, and went to examine the cage, when, to my infinite consternation, I found it empty! I searched the bed, the room, raised the carpet, examined every nook and corner, but all to no purpose. I dressed myself as hastily as could, and summoning one of the waiters, an intelligent, good-natured man, I informed him of my loss, and got him to search every room in the house. His investigations, however, proved equally unavailing, and gave my poor little pet completely up, inwardly hoping, despite of its ingratitude in leaving me, that it might meet with some agreeable mate amongst its brown congeners, and might lead a long and happy life, unchequered by the terrors of the prowling cat, and unendangered by the more insidious artifices of the fatal trap. With these reflections I was just getting into the coach which was to convey me upon my road, when a waiter came running to the door, out of breath, exclaiming, "Mr R., Mr R., I declare your little mouse is in the kitchen.' Begging the coachman to wait an instant, I followed the man to the kitchen, and there, on the hob, seated contentedly in a pudding dish, and devouring its contents with considerable gout, was my truant protegé. Once more secured within its cage, and the latter carefully enveloped in a sheet of strong brown paper, upon my knee, I reached Gloucester. " I was here soon subjected to a similar alarm, for one morning the cage was again empty, and my efforts to discover the retreat of the wanderer unavailing as before. This time I had lost him for a week, when one night, in getting into bed, I heard a scrambling in the curtains, and on relighting my candle found the noise to have been occasioned by my mouse, who seemed equally pleased with myself at our reunion. After having thus lost and found my little friend a number of times, I gave up the idea of confining him; and, accordingly, leaving the door of his cage open, I placed it in a corner of my bedroom, and allowed him to go in and out as he pleased. Of this permission he gladly availed himself, but would regularly return to me at intervals of a week or a fortnight, and at such periods of return he was usually much thinner than ordinary; and it was pretty clear that during his visits to his brown acquaintances he fared by no means so well as he did at home. Sometimes, when he happened to return, as he often did, in the night-time, on which occasions his general custom was to come into bed to me, I used, in order to induce him to remain with me until morning, to immerse him in a basin of water, and then let him lie in my bosom, the warmth of which, after his cold bath, commonly ensured his stay. Frequently, while absent on one of his excursions, I would hear an unusual noise in the wainscot, as I lay in bed, of dozens of mice running backwards and forwards in all directions, and squeaking in much apparent glee. For some time I was puzzled to know whether this unusual disturbance was the result of merriment or quarrelling, and I often trembled for the safety of my pet, alone and unaided, among so many strangers. But a very interesting circumstance occurred one morning, which perfectly reassured me. It was a bright summer morning, about four o'clock, and I was lying awake, reflecting as to the propriety of turning on my pillow to take another sleep, or at once rising, and going forth to enjoy the beauties of awakening nature. While thus meditating, I heard a slight scratching in the wainscot, and looking towards the spot whence the noise proceeded, perceived the head of a mouse peering from a hole. It was instantly withdrawn, but a second was thrust forth. This latter I at once recognised as my own white friend, but so begrimed by soot and dirt that it required an experienced eye to distinguish him from his darker-coated entertainers. He emerged from the hole, and running over to his cage, entered it, and remained for a couple of seconds within it; he then returned to the wainscot, and, re-entering the hole, some scrambling and squeaking took place. A second time he came forth, and on this occasion was followed closely, to my no small astonishment, by a brown mouse, who followed him, with much apparent timidity and caution, to his box, and entered it along with him. More astonished at this singular proceeding than I can well express, I lay fixed in mute and breathless attention, to see what would follow next. In about a minute the two mice came forth from the cage, each bearing in its mouth a large piece of bread, which they dragged towards the hole they had previously left. On arriving at it, they entered, but speedily re-appeared, having deposited their burden; and repairing once more to the cage, again loaded themselves with provision, and conveyed it away. This second time they remained within the hole for a much longer period than the first time; and when they again made their appearance, they were attended by three other mice, who, following their leaders to the cage, loaded themselves with bread as did they, and carried away their burdens to the hole. After this I saw them no more that morning, and on rising I discovered that they had carried away every particle of food that the cage contained. Nor was this an isolated instance of their white guest leading them forth to where he knew they should find provender. Day after day, whatever bread or grain I left in the cage was regularly removed, and the duration of my pet's absence was proportionately long. Wishing to learn whether hunger was the actual cause of his return, I no longer left food in his box; and in about a week afterwards, on awaking one morning, I found him sleeping upon the pillow, close to my face, having partly wormed his way under my cheek. of my juvenile readers as may be disposed to make a pet of one of these interesting little animals, would do well to observe the following rules :-Clean the cage out daily, and keep it dry; do not keep it in too cold a place; in winter it should be kept in a room in which there is a fire. Feed the mice on bread steeped in milk, having first squeezed the milk out, as too moist food is bad for them. Never give them cheese, as it is apt to produce fatal disorders, though the more hardy brown mice eat it with impunity. If you want to give them a treat, give them grains of wheat or barley, or if these are not to be procured, oats or rice. A little tin box of water should be constantly left in their cage, but securely fixed, so that they cannot overturn it. Let the wires be not too slight, or too long, otherwise the little animals will easily squeeze themselves between them, and let them be of iron, never of copper, as the animals are fond of nibbling at them, and the rust of the latter, or verdigris, would quickly poison them. White mice are to be procured at most of the birdshops in Patrick's Close, Dublin; of the wire-workers and bird-cage makers in Edinburgh; and from all the animal fanciers in London, whose residences are to be found chiefly on the New Road and about Knightsbridge. Their prices vary from one shilling to two-and-sixpence per pair, according to their age and beauty. THE PROFESSIONS. H. D. R. There was a cat in the house, an excellent mouser, and I dreaded lest she should one day meet with and destroy my poor mouse, and I accordingly used all my exertions with those in whose power it was, to obtain her dismissal. She was, however, regarded by those persons as infinitely better entitled to protection and patronage than a mouse, so I was compelled to put up with her presence. People are fond of IF what are called the liberal professions could speak, they imputing to cats a supernatural degree of sagacity: they will would all utter the one cry, "we are overstocked;" and echo sometimes go so far as to pronounce them to be genuine would reply "overstocked." This has long been a subject of witches; and really I am scarcely surprised at it, nor per- complaint, and yet nobody seems inclined to mend the matter haps will the reader be, when I tell him the following anecdote. by making any sacrifice on his own part-just as in a crowd, I was one day entering my apartment, when I was filled to use a familiar illustration, the man who is loudest in exwith horror at perceiving my mouse picking up some crumbs claiming "dear me, what pressing and jostling people do keep upon the carpet, beneath the table, and the terrible cat seated here!" never thinks of lightening the pressure by withdrawupon a chair watching him with what appeared to me to being his own person from the mass. There is, however, an an expression of sensual anticipation and concentrated desire. advantage to be derived from the utterance and reiteration of Before I had time to interfere, Puss sprang from her chair, the complaint, if not by those already in the press, at least by and bounded towards the mouse, who, however, far from being those who are still happily clear of it. terrified at the approach of his natural enemy, scarcely so much as favoured her with a single look. Puss raised her paw and dealt him a gentle tap, when, judge of my astonishment if you can, the little mouse, far from running away, or betraying any marks of fear, raised himself on his legs, cocked his tail, and with a shrill and angry squeak, with which any that have kept tame mice are well acquainted, sprang at and positively bit the paw which had struck him. I was paralysed. I could not jump forward to the rescue. I was, as it were, petrified where I stood. But, stranger than all, the cat, instead of appearing irritated, or seeming to design mischief, merely stretched out her nose and smelt at her diminutive assailant, and then resuming her place upon the chair, purred herself to sleep. I need not say that I immediately secured the mouse within his cage. Whether the cat on this occasion knew the little animal to be a pet, and as such feared to meddle with it, or whether its boldness had disarmed her, I cannot pretend to explain: I merely state the fact; and I think the reader will allow that it is sufficiently extraordinary. In order to guard against such a dangerous encounter for the future, I got a more secure cage made, of which the bars were so close as to preclude the possibility of egress; and singularly enough, many a morning was I amused by beholding brown mice coming from their holes in the wainscot, and approaching the cage in which their friend was kept, as if in order to condole with him on the subject of his unwonted captivity. Secure, however, as I conceived this new cage to be, my industrious pet contrived to make his escape from it, and in doing so met his death. In my room was a large bureau, with deep, old-fashioned, capacious drawers. Being obliged to go from home for a day, I put the cage containing my little friend into one of these drawers, lest any one should attempt to meddle with it during my absence. On returning, I opened the drawer, and just as I did so, heard a faint squeak, and at the same instant my poor little pet fell from the back of the drawer-lifeless. I took up his body, and, placing it in my bosom, did my best to restore it to animation. Alas! it was to no purpose. His little body had been crushed in the crevice at the back part of the drawer, through which he had been endeavouring to escape, and he was really and irrecoverably gone. There are many "vanities and vexations of spirit” under the sun, but this evil of professional redundancy seems to be one of very great magnitude. It involves not merely an outlay of much precious time and substance to no purpose, but in most cases unfits those who constitute the "excess" from applying themselves afterwards to other pursuits. Such persons are the primary sufferers; but the community at large participates in the loss. It cannot but be interesting to inquire to what this tendency may be owing, and what remedy it might be useful to apply to the evil. Now, it strikes me that the great cause is the exclusive attention which people pay to the great prizes, and their total inconsideration of the number of blanks which accompany them. Life itself has been compared to a lottery; but in some departments the scheme may be so particularly bad, that it is nothing short of absolute gambling to purchase a share in it. So it is in the professions. A few arrive at great eminence, and these few excite the envy and admiration of all beholders; but they are only a few compared with the number of those who linger in the shade, and, however anxious to enjoy the sport, never once get a rap at the ball. Again, parents are apt to look upon the mere name of a profession as a provision for their children. They calculate all the expenses of general education, professional education, and then of admission to "liberty to practise;" and finding all these items amount to a tolerably large sum, they conceive they have bestowed an ample portion on the son who has cost them "thus much monies." But unfortunately they soon learn by experience that the elevation of a profession, great as it is, does not always possess that homely recommendation of causing the "pot to boil," and that the individual for whom this costly provision has been made, cannot be so soon left to shift for himself. Here then is another cause of this evil, namely, that people do not adequately and fairly calculate the whole cost. Of our liberal professions, the army is the only one that yields a certain income as the produce of the purchase money. But in these "piping times of peace," a private soldier in the ranks might as well attempt to verify the old song, and "Spend half a crown out of sixpence a-day," as an ensign to pay mess-money and band-money, and all other regulation monies, keep himself in dress coat and epaulettes, and all the other et ceteras, upon his mere pay. The thing To live in any comfort in the army, a sub NOTE ON THE FEEDING, &c., OF WHITE MICE.-Such cannot be done. altern should have an income from some other source, equal at least in amount to that which he receives through the hands of the paymaster. The army is, in fact, an expensive profession, and of all others the least agreable to one who is prevented, by circumscribed means, from doing as his brother officers do. Yet the mistake of venturing to meet all these difficulties is not unfrequently admitted, with what vain expectation it is needless to inquire. The usual result is such as one would anticipate, namely, that the rash adventurer, after incurring debts, or putting his friends to unlooked-for charges, is obliged after a short time to sell out, and bid farewell for ever to the unprofitable profession of arms. 66 It would be painful to dwell upon the situation of those who enter other professions without being duly prepared to wait their turn of employment. It is recognised as a poignantly applicable truth in the profession of the bar, that many are called but few are chosen;" but with very few and rare exceptions indeed, the necessity of biding the time is certain. In the legal and medical professions there is no fixed income, however small, insured to the adventurer; and unless his circle of friends and connections be very wide and serviceable indeed, he should make up his mind for a procrastinated return and a late harvest. But how many from day to day, and from year to year, do launch their bark upon the ocean, without any such prudent foresight! The result therefore is, that vast proportion of disastrous voyages aud shipwrecks of which we hear so constantly. 66 Such is the admitted evil-it is granted on all sides. The question is, what is to be done?-what is the remedy? Now, the remedy for an overstocked profession very evidently is, that people should forbear to enter it. I am no Malthusian on the subject of population: I desire no unnatural checks upon the increase and multiplication of her Majesty's subjects; but I should like to drain off a surplus from certain situations, and turn off the in-flowing stream into more profitable channels. I would advise parents, then, to leave the choice of a liberal profession to those who are able to live without one. Such parties can afford to wait for advancement, however long it may be in coming, or to bear up against disappointment, if such should be their lot. With such it is a safe speculation, and they may be left to indulge in it, if they think proper. With others it is not so. But it will be asked, what is to be done with the multitudes who would be diverted from the professions, if this advice were acted upon? I answer, that the money unprofitably spent upon their education, and in fees of admission to these expensive pursuits, would insure them a 66 good location" and a certain provision for life in Canada, or some of the colonies; and that any honourable occupation which would yield a competeney ought to be preferred to "professions" which, however liberal," hold out to the many but a very doubtful prospect of that result. It is much to be regretted that there is a prevalent notion among certain of my countrymen that "trade" is not a genteel" thing, and that it must be eschewed by those who have any pretensions to fashion. This unfortunate, and I must say unsound state of opinion, contributes also, I fear, in no small degree, to that professional redundancy of which we have been speaking. The supposed absolute necessity of a high classical education is a natural concomitant of this opinion. All our schools therefore are eminently classical. The University follows, as a matter of course, and then the University leads to a liberal profession, as surely as one step of a ladder conducts to another. Thus the evil is nourished at the very root. Now, I would take the liberty of advising those parents who may concur with me in the main point of over-supply in the professions, to begin at the beginning, and in the education of their children, to exchange this superabundance of Greek and Latin for the less elegant but more useful accomplishment of “ ciphering." I am disposed to concur with that facetious but shrewd fellow, Mr Samuel Slick, upon the inestimable advantages of that too much neglected art-neglected, I mean, in our country here, Ireland. He has demonstrated that they do every thing by it in the States, and that without it they could do nothing. With the most profound respect to my countrymen, then, I would earnestly recommend them to cultivate it. But it may perhaps be said that there is no encouragement to mercantile pursuits in Ireland, and that if there were, there would be no necessity for me to recommend "ciphering" and its virtues to the people. To this I answer, that merchandize offers its prizes to the ingenious and venturous much rather than to those who wait for a highway" to be made for them. If people were resolved to live by trade, I think they would contrive to do so many more, at least, than at present operate successfully in that department. If more of education, and more of mind, were turned in that direction, new sources of profitable industry, at present unthought of, would probably discover themselves. Much might be said on this subject, but I shall not enter further into the speculation, quite satisfied if I have thrown out a hint which may be found capable of improve ment by others. GEESE. BY MARTIN DOYLE. F. THE rearing of geese might be more an object of attention to our small farmers and labourers in the vicinity of bogs and mountain tracts than it is. The general season for the consumption of fat geese is from Michaelmas to Christmas, and the high prices paid for them in the English markets-to which they can be so rapidly conveyed from many parts of Ireland-appear to offer sufficient temptation to the speculator who has the capital and accommodation necessary for fattening them. A well-organized system of feeding this hardy and nutritious species of poultry, in favourable localities, would give a considerable impulse to the rearing of them, and consequently promote the comforts of many poor Irish families, who under existing circumstances do not find it worth while to rear them except in very small numbers. I am led to offer a few suggestions on this subject from having ascertained that in the Fens of Lincolnshire, notwithstanding a great decrease there in the breeding of geese from extensive drainage, one individual, Mr Clarke of Boston, fattens every year, between Michaelmas and Christmas, the prodigious number of seven thousand geese, and that another dealer at Spalding prepares for the poultry butcher nearly as many these they purchase in lots from the farmers' wives. Perhaps a few details of the Lincolnshire practice may be acceptable to some of the readers of this Journal :- The farmers in the Fens keep breeding stocks proportioned to the extent of suitable land which they can command; and in order to insure the fertility of the eggs, they allow one gander to three geese, which is a higher proportion of males than is deemed necessary elsewhere. The number of goslings in each brood averages about ten, which, allowing for all casualties, is a considerable produce. There have been extraordinary instances of individual fecundity, on which, however, it would be as absurd for any goose-breeder to calculate, as it is proverbially unwise to reckon chickens before they are hatched; and this fruitfulness is only attainable by constant feeding with stimulating food through the preceding winter. A goose has been known to lay seventy eggs within twelve months, twenty-six in the spring, before the time of incubation, and (after bringing out seventeen goslings) the remainder by the end of the year. The white variety is preferred to the grey or party-coloured, as the birds of this colour feed more kindly, and their feathers are worth three shillings a stone more than the others: the quality of the land, however, on which the breeding stock is to be maintained, decides this matter, generally strong land being necessary for the support of the white or larger kind. Under all circumstances a white gander is preferred, in order to have a large progeny. It has been remarked, but I know not if with reason, that ganders are more frequently white than the females. To state all the particulars of hatching and rearing would be superfluous, and mere repetition of what is contained in the various works on poultry. I shall merely state some of the peculiarities of the practice in the county of Lincoln. When the young geese are brought up at different periods by the great dealers, they are put into pens together, according to their age, size, and condition, and fed on steamed potatoes and ground oats, in the ratio of one measure of oats to three of potatoes. By unremitting care as to cleanliness, pure water, and constant feeding, these geese are fattened in about three weeks, at an average cost of one penny per day each. The cramming system, either by the fingers or the forcing pump, described by French writers, with the accompanying barbarities of blinding, nailing the feet to the floor, or confinement in perforated casks or earthen pots (as is said to be the case sometimes in Poland), are happily unknown in Lincolnshire, and I may add throughout England, with one exception-the nailing of the feet to boards. The unequivocal proofs of this may occasionally, but very rarely, be seen in the geese brought into the London markets: these, however, may possibly be imported ones, though I fear they are not so. The Lincolnshire dealers do not give any of those rich greasy pellets of barley meal and hot liquor, which always spoil the flavour, to their geese, as they well know that oats is the best feeding for them; barley, besides being more expensive, renders the flesh loose and insipid, and rather chickeny in flavour. Every point of economy on this subject is matter of great moment, on the vast scale pursued by Mr Clarke, who pays seven hundred pounds a-year for the mere conveyance of his birds to the London market; a fact which gives a tolerable notion of the great extent of capital employed in this business, the extent of which is scarcely conceivable by my agricultural countrymen. Little cost, however, is incurred by those who breed the geese, as the stock are left to provide for themselves, except in the laying season, and in feeding the goslings until they are old enough to eat grass or feed on the stubbles. I have no doubt, however, that the cramp would be less frequently experienced, if solid food were added to the grass, when the geese are turned out to graze, although Mr Clarke attributes the cramp, as well as gout and fever, to too close confinement alone. This opinion does not correspond with my far more limited observation, which leads me to believe that the cramp attacks goslings most frequently when they are at large, and left to shift for themselves on green food alone, and that of the poorest kind. I should think it good economy to give them, and the old stagers too, all spare garden vegetables, for loss of condition is prejudicial to them as well as to other animals. Mr Cobbett used to fatten his young geese, from June to October, on Swedish turnips, carrots, white cabbages, or lettuces, with some corn. Swedish turnips no doubt will answer very well, but not so well as farinaceous potatoes, when immediate profit is the object. The experience of such an extensive dealer as Mr Clarke is worth volumes of theory and conjecture as to the mode of feeding, and he decides in favour of potatoes and oats. The treatment for cramp and fever in Lincolnshire is bleeding-I know not if it be hazarded in gout-but as it is not successful in the cases of cramp in one instance out of twenty, it may be pronounced inefficacious. I have had occasion lately to remark in this Journal on the general disinclination in England to the barbarous custom of plucking geese alive. In Lincolnshire, however, they do so with the breeding stock three times in the year, beginning at midsummer, and repeating the operation twice afterwards, at intervals of six weeks between the operations. The practice is defended on the plea, that if the feathers be matured, the geese are better for it, while it is of course admitted that the birds must be injured more or less-according to the handling by the pluckers-if the feathers be not ripe. But as birds do not moult three times in the year, I do not understand how it should be correctly said that the feathers can be ripe on these three occasions. How does nature suggest the propriety of stripping the feathers so often? Where great numbers are kept, the loss by allowing the feathers to drop on the ground would be serious, and on this account alone can even one stripping be justified. In proof of the general opinion that the goose is extremely long-lived, we have many recorded facts; among them the following:-" In 1824 there was a goose living in the possession of Mr Hewson of Glenham, near Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, which was then upwards of a century old. It had been throughout that term in the constant possession of Mr Hewson's forefathers and himself, and on quitting his farm he would not suffer it to be sold with his other stock, but made a present of it to the in-coming tenant, that the venerable fowl might terminate its career on the spot where its useful life had been spent such a length of days." I had read of charcoal being put into a trough of water to sweeten it for geese when cooped up; but from a passage in a recent work by Liebig it would appear that the charcoal acts not as a sweetener of the water, but in another way on the constitution of the goose. I am tempted to give the extract from its novelty:-" The production of flesh and fat may be artificially increased: all domestic animals, for example, contain much fat. We give food to animals which increases the activity of certain organs, and is itself capable of being transformed into fat. We add to the quantity of food, or we lessen the progress of respiration and perspiration by preventing motion. The conditions necessary to effect this purpose in birds are different from those in quadrupeds; and it is well known that charcoal powder produces such an excessive growth in the liver of a goose as at length causes the death of the animal." We are much inferior to the English in the art of preparing poultry for the market; and this is the more to be regretted in the instance of geese, especially as we can supply potatoes-which I have shown to be the chief material of their fattening food-at half their cost in many parts of England. This advantage alone ought to render the friends of our agricultural poor earnest in promoting the rearing and fattening of geese in localities favourable for the purpose. IRISH MANUFACTURES. THE encouragement of our native manufactures is now a ge neral topic of conversation and interest, and we hope the present excitement of the public mind on this subject will be productive of permanent good. We also hope that the encouragement proposed to be given to articles of Irish manufacture will be extended to the productions of the head as well as to those of the hands; that the manufacturer of Irish wit and humour will be deemed worthy of support as well as those of silks, woollens, or felts; and, that Irishmen shall venture to estimate the value of Irish produce for themselves, without waiting as heretofore till they get "the London stamp" upon them, as our play-going people of old times used to do in the case of the eminent Irish actors. We are indeed greatly inclined to believe that our Irish manufactures are rising in estimation in England, from the fact which has come to our knowledge that many thousands of our Belfast hams are sold annually at the other side of the water as genuine Yorkshire, and also that many of those Belfast hams with the Yorkshire stamp find their way back into "Ould Ireland," and are bought as English by those who would despise them as Irish. Now, we should like our countrymen not to be gulled in this way, but depend upon their own judgment in the matter of hams, and in like manner in the matter of articles of Irish literary manufacture, without waiting for the London stamp to be put on them. The necessity for such discrimination and confidence in their own judgment exists equally in hams and literature. Thus certain English editors approve so highly of our articles in the Irish Penny Journal, that they copy them by wholesale, not only without acknowledgment, but actually do us the favour to father them as their own! As an example of this patronage, we may refer to a recent number of the Court Gazette, in which its editor has been entertaining his aristocratic readers with a little piece of badinage from our Journal, expressly written for us, and entitled "A short chapter on Bustles," but which he gives as written for the said Court Gazette! Now, this is really very considerate and complimentary, and we of course feel grateful. But, better again, we find our able and kind friend the editor of the Monitor and Irishman, presenting, no doubt inadvertently, this very article to his Irish readers a few weeks ago-not even as an Irish article that had got the London stamp upon it, but as actually one of true British manufacture the produce of the Court Gazette. Now, in perfect good humour, we ask our friend, as such we have reason to consider him, could he not as well have copied this article from our own Journal, and given us the credit of it and would it not be worthy of the consistency and patriotism of the Irishman, who writes so ably in the cause of Irish The taste which has long prevailed among gourmands for manufactures, to extend his support, as far as might be comthe liver of a goose, and has led to the enormous cruelties ex-patible with truth and honesty, to the native literature of ercised in order to cause its enlargement by rendering the Ireland? bird diseased in that organ through high and forced feeding in a warm temperature and close confinement, is well known; but I doubt if many are aware of the influence of charcoal in producing an unnatural state of the liver. Printed and published every Saturday by GUNN and CAMERON, at the Office of the General Advertiser, No. 6, Church Lane, College Green, Dubün.→ Sold by all Booksellers, WE think our readers generally will concur with us in con-, sidering the subject of our prefixed illustration as a very striking and characteristic one-presenting features which, except among the castles of the Scottish highland chiefs, will only be found on the wild shores of our own romantic island. It is indeed a truly Irish scene-poetical and picturesque in the extreme, and its history is equally peculiar, being wholly unlike any thing that could be found relating to any castle out of Ireland. From the singularity of its situation, seated on a lofty, precipitous, and nearly insulated cliff, exposed to the storms and billows of the western ocean, our readers will naturally conclude that this now sadly dilapidated and time-worn ruin must have owed its origin to some rude and daring chief of old, whose occupation was war and rapine, and whose thoughts were as wild and turbulent as the waves that washed his seagirt eagle dwelling; and such, in their ignorance of its unpublished history, has been the conclusion drawn by modern topographers, who tell us that it is supposed to have been the habitation of freebooters. But it was not so; and our readers will be surprised when we acquaint them that this lonely, isolated fortress was erected as an abode for peaceful men-a safe and quiet retreat in troubled times for the laborious investigators and preservers of the history, poetry, and antiquities of their country! Yes, reader, this castle was the residence of the ollaves, bards, and antiquaries of the people of Tirconnell-the illustrious family of the O'Clerys, to whose zealous labours in the preservation of the history and antiquities of Ireland we are chiefly indebted for the information on those subjects with which we so often endeavour to instruct and amuse you. You will pardon us, then, if with a grateful feeling to those benefactors of our country to whose labours we owe so much, we endeavour to do honour to their memory by devoting a few pages of our little national work to their history, as an humble but not unfitting monument to their fame. We trust, however, that such a sketch as we propose will not be wholly wanting either in interest or instruction. It will throw additional light upon the ancient customs and state of society in Ireland, and exhibit in a striking way a remarkable feature in the character of our countrymen of past ages, which no adverse circumstances were ever able utterly to destroy, and which, we trust, will again distinguish them as of old their love for literature and learning, and their respect for good and learned men. It will also exhibit another trait in their national character no less peculiar or remarkable, namely, their great anxiety to preserve their family histories-a result of which is, that even to the present day the humblest Irish peasant, as well as the estated gentleman, can not unfrequently trace his descent not only to a more remote period, but also with a greater abundance of historical evidence than most of the princely families of Europe. This is, indeed, a trait in the national character which philosophers, and men like ourselves, usually affect |