and traditional account of the erection of Stonehenge-not the most learned or probable, perhaps, but certainly the most amusing. It seems, according to this account, that the stones which now compose Stonehenge, were once the property of an old woman in Ireland, and grew in her back yard. The famous necromancer, Merlin, having set his heart on possessing them, mentioned the affair to the Devil, who promised to obtain them for him. For this purpose, assuming, which he did without the least difficulty, the appearance of a gentleman, he visited the old woman, and pouring a bag of money on her table, told her he would give her as many of the pieces for the stones in her ground, as she could reckon while he was taking them away. Thinking it impossible for one person to manage them in almost any given time, she closed with his proposal immediately, and began forthwith to count the money; but she had no sooner laid her hand on the first coin, than the old one cried out, Hold! for your stones are gone!' The old woman ran to her window, and looking out into her back yard, found that it was really so-her stones The Arch Enemy had, in the were gone. twinkling of an eye, taken them all down, tied them together, and was now flying away with them. As he was crossing the river Avon, at Bulford, the string which bound the stones became loose, and one of them dropped into the stream, where it still may be seen; with the rest, however, he arrived safe on Salisbury Plain, where, in obedience to Merlin's instructions, he began to set them up again. The work, in the hands of such a builder, went on swimmingly, and the Devil was so well pleased with it, that as he was placing the last stone, he declared, with an intention, no doubt, of teazing the restless curiosity of mankind, that no one should ever know where the pile came from, or how it came there. In this part of the business he was disappointed; for a Friar, who had lain concealed about the work, loudly replied, That is more than thou canst tell, Old Nick.' This put the Devil in such a rage, that pulling up the nearest stone by the roots, he threw it at the Friar, with the design of crushing him; but the Friar was too nimble for him-the stone only struck his heel; and thus he gave it its present name, and escaped to let the world know who was the architect of Stonehenge. They who still persist in giving no credit to the Friar's information, have been exceedingly puzzled in endeavouring to ac gious monument as Stonehenge, they chose trinkets, &c. As companions to Stone where they found, or made where such were not fit for their hands, small aggeres, or mounds of firm and solid earth for an inclined plane, flatted and levelled at top; up the sloping sides of which, with great under levers upon fixed fulciments, and with balances at the end of them to receive into them proportioned weights and counterpoises, and with hands enough to guide and manage the engines, they that way, by little and little, heaved and rolled up those stones they intended to erect on the top of the hillock, where laying them along, they dug holes in the earth at the end of every stone intended for column or supporter, the depth of which holes were equal to the length of the stones, and then, which was easily done, let slip the stones into these holes straight on end; which stones, so sunk and well closed about with earth, and the tops of them level with the top of the mount on which the other flat stones lay, it was only placing those incumbent flat stones upon the tops of the supporters, duly bound and fastened, and taking away the earth from between them almost to the bottom of the supporters, and there then appeared what we now call Stonehenge." Concerning the origin and derivation of the name Stonehenge, there is as much diversity of opinion as upon any other circumstance relating to it. Inigo Jones says, "This antiquity, because the architraves are set upon the heads of the upright stones, and hang as it were, in the air, is generally known by the name of Stone-Henge." "The true Saxon name," says Gibson, in Camden's Britannia, "seems to be Stanhengest, from the memorable slaughter which Hengist, the Saxon, here made of the Britons. If this etymology may be allowed, then that other received derivation from the hanging of stones, may be as far from the truth, as that of the vulgar Stone-edge, from stones set on edge." An anonymous writer, about the year 1660, who calls his piece "A Fool's Bolt soon shot at Stonage," appears to me to be gravely quizzing the antiquaries and etymologists; -if he is not, he is himself the most ridiculous of the whole fraternity. He pretends to have discovered every thing concerning this pile, the when, the how, the why, and the wherefore, and divides his article into twelve particulars, the second of which relates to the contested derivation. Hear it! "2. My second particular is, that a bloody battle was fought near Stonage. For the very name Stonage signifies Stone-battle; the last syl other foundation than a bloody battle, have count for the elevation of such huge col-lable age coming from the Greek ἀγὼν, α henge, these barrows add much to the effect of the scene, and heighten the feelings of contemplative solemnity which are wrought up in the bosom of the beholder. There is nothing modern near the place for miles;-here is the vast and venerable monument, and scattered here and there about it, are the primitive graves of men who were doubtless familiar with its mysteries, but whose knowledge sleeps with them, as soundly as they do. It seems as if there must be some old and mighty sympathy between these remnants of a vanished age; as if in the deep silence of the sultry noon they might meditate together on the departed glories of their time; or, when the midnight storm was high, might borrow its exulting voice to talk of their well kept secrets, of battle and of victory-while every human ear was distant, and the sailing clouds, and the glancing stars, alone looked on at their solemn dialogue. In returning to Salisbury, I took a different road from that which brought me to Stonehenge, and at the end of two miles came to the village of Amesbury. While the postillion stopped here to refresh himself and his horses, I walked out, and passing a small, but old and pituresque church, entered the grounds of Amesbury House, a mansion belonging to Lord Douglas. The building was designed by Inigo Jones, and is a handsome looking house, but fast going to decay, as the present possessor has not inhabited it for years. The walls are defaced, the windows boarded up, and the glass broken. The grounds are as desolate as the dwelling; the banks of the Avon, which winds through them, are overgrown with long grass and bushes, and its stream is choked with mud and reeds; a bridge, with a summer-house in the Chinese fashion built upon it, is made almost impassable by its own ruins; the path is strewn with dead leaves and withered branches; the dial stone is overturned, and there is not even "One rose of the wilderness left on its stalk.. To mark where a garden had been." Feelings more deeply sad and sorrowful are perhaps inspired by scenes like this, than by the remains of a more distant age; -decay is premature, and rain has come before its time; the traces of desolation are marked upon familiar things, and the effects of many years have overtaken the workmanship of yesterday. When I returned to the inn, I found the chaise waiting for me. The sun was now very powerful, and its rays, by being reflected from the chalky road, were rendered doubly burning. Neither was there any thing in the scenery to refresh the spirit and cool the blood; -the harvest was over, and the fields were all dry stubble; -not a cottage was to be seen, nor any living thing, ex After having viewed the monument it-cepting a shepherd whom we met, with his self, the attention is attracted to the nu- coat stripped off and thrown over his shoulder, covered with dust, and driving a flock of panting sheep over the heated downs. Within two miles of Salisbury, and at a short distance from the road, are the ruins of Old Sarum. The only dwelling near it is a humble pot-house, at which we stopped. | colours do to the eye, a sensation of re- shall take my leave of it with the followA path through its little garden leads out pose, after the contemplation of glaring ing: upon the ruins. They are very inconsidera- and offensive hues. "Look! under that broad beech tree I ble; an irregular mound of earth incloing a space of two thousand feet in diameter, and a yard or two of crumbling stone wall; yet this place sends two members to parliament, that is, the proprietor of the land sends them. Horne Tooke was once returned from this thoroughly rotten borough. Two lads were ploughing immediately under the ramparts. Et te- - durus arator Vertet, et, Urbs, dicet, hæc quoque clara fuit. ALL the world has heard of Isaac Walton's "fascinating little volume"-for all the world has read the Sketch Book-but few in this country have ever read it. Although it has passed through many editions since its first publication in 1653, it has for many years been comparatively a rare book, and I think you may have readers who will be amused by some account of the work and its author. The edition which is now before me* is in a less expensive form, than the former ones have usually been. All the engravings are omitted, which deprives the work of one charm, that the author seems to have made no small account of, observing that "he who likes not the book should like the ex cellent picture of the trout, and some of the other fish, which I may take a liberty to commend, because they concern not myself." The author of this celebrated treatise was born at Stafford, in the year 1593; and, to judge from the style of his literary per formances, must have received English education. Some time before the year 1624 he settled in London as a sempster or linen-draper, which employment he continued to follow till 1643, when he retired from business and spent the remainder of his life, which was protracted to the advanced age of ninety, " The Complete Angler is in the form of sat down, when I was last this way a fisha dialogue between a Fowler, a Hunter, ing. And the birds in the adjoining grove and a Fisher, who meet together by acci- seemed to have a friendly contention with dent and enter into a discussion of the merits of their respective pursuits. The first speaker is the Fowler, from whose panegyric on his vocation, and every thing connected with it, I would make one extract. "But the nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth." The Hunter follows, with appropriate praise of his favourite amusement, and the Fisher concludes the debate with a long discourse on the pleasures of angling, which makes a convert of the former. The Fowler soon leaves them, while the Fisher goes on through the remainder of the book, to instruct his new disciple in the best methods of catching and cooking the various fish which inhabit the streams and ponds in England. In the course of their walk they meet with a party engaged in hunting the otter. On this occasion the Angler puzzles the Huntsman with a question near akin to one, which has worried wiser heads than his, even the learned in the law of our own times. an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a hollow tree near to the brow of that primrose hill. There I sat viewing the silver streams glide silently toward their centre, the tempestuous sea; yet sometimes opposed by rugged roots and pebble-stones, which broke their waves, and turned them into foam." And this description of the mode of cooking a pike [pickerel], which is sufficiently appetizing. "But if this direction to catch a Pike thus do you no good, yet I am certain this direction, how to roast him when he is caught, is choicely good; for I have tried it, and it is something the better for not being common. But with my direction you must take this caution, that your Pike must not be a small one, that is, it must be more than half a yard, and should be bigger "First, open your Pike at the gills, and if need be, cut also a little slit towards the belly. Out of these take his guts; and keep his liver, which you are to shred very small, with thyme, sweet marjoram, and a little winter-savory; to these put some pickled oysters, and some anchovies, two or three, both these last whole, for the anchovies will melt, and the oysters should not; to these you must add also a pound of sweet butter, which you are to mix with the herbs that are shred, and let them all be well salted. If the Pike be more than a yard long, then you may put into these herbs more than a pound, or if he be less, then less butter will suffice: These, being thus mixed, with a blade or two of mace, must be put into the Pike's belly: and then his belly so sewed up as to keep all the butter in his belly if it be possible; if not, then as much as you possibly can. But take not off the scales. Then you are to thrust the spit through his mouth, out at his six split sticks, or very thin laths, and a convenient quantity of tape or filleting; these laths are to be tied round about the Pike's body from his head to his tail, and the tape tied somewhat thick, to prevent his breaking or falling off from the spit. Let him be roasted very leisurely; and often basted with claret wine and anchovies and butter mixed together; and also with what moisture falls from him into the pan. When you have roasted him sufficiently you are to hold under him, when you unwind or cut the tape that ties him, such a dish as you purpose to eat him out of; and let him fall into it with the sauce that is roasted in his belly; and by this means the Pike will be kept unbroken and complete. Then, to the sauce which was within, and also that sauce in the pan, you are to add a fit quantity of the best butter, and to squeeze the juice of three or four oranges. Lastly, you may either put it into the Pike, with the oysters, two cloves of garlick, and take it whole There are pieces of delightful poetry scattered through the volume; the following is a favourable specimen. I have seen it lately published in a journal as the property of an English poetess, who flourmostly in the fami- ished about eighty years after Walton tail. And then take four or five or lies of the eminent clergymen of England, by whom he was much beloved." He wrote the biography of Sir John Donne, Sir Henry Wotton, and other eminent persons; but the present work is the one to which he has owed his celebrity. It is chiefly remarkable for the tone of simplicity, benevolence, and gentleness, that breathes through the whole. We feel ourselves acquainted with the author; and when we contemplate his quiet cheerfulness and primitive morality and charity, and remember that he lived through the stormy periods of the reign of Charles I., the protectorate of Cromwell, and the licentious days which succeeded the Restoration, we cannot wonder that he was, as he is said to have been, "well beloved of all good men." Amid the turmoil and vices of the time, the character of Walton affords to the mind, what certain * The Complete Angler of Isaac Walton and Charles Cotton. Chiswick. 1824. died. It has been accredited to divers old self to Hubbard. Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, and thou must die. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, Only a sweet and virtuous soul, I might select for your readers many "This dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or very honest men; and I trust you will prove both, and therefore I have trusted you with this secret." Very sensitive readers may be occasionally surprised with a kind of professional hardheartedness, which mingles oddly enough with Walton's general benignity and tenderness; as when, in giving directions touching the catching of pickerel, he orders his pupil to bait the hook with a living frog, and especially requires him to pass the barb through the struggling reptile "as tenderly as though you loved him." The work of Cotton, which is added to that of Walton in this edition, is a sort of imitation or continuation of it, being intended to supply the deficiencies of the latter in the particular of fly-fishing, and the manufacture of artificial flies. AMERICAN SCHOLARSHIP. GREAT differences exist between us and other cultivated nations, in respect to the number and character of our scholars. Our land is not cumbered with literati, so numerous and so distinguished from all who follow other pursuits, as to constitute a class by themselves. This fact is often mentioned at home and abroad; it has been lamented by Americans, and cast in their teeth by foreigners, as matter of reproach and obloquy. We grant that the circumstance exists, but are disposed to view it in a very different light; to us it appears as a proof and a promise of a better condition of national intellect than has characterized any other people. and places for the utterance of thought. | own fancy, perhaps to fantastic or false con- chiefly if not only good, as they serve to ripen or store away for use, the fruits which have been gathered in society. Now the recluse scholar has not only lost all the advantage, but with the habit perhaps the power of freely interchanging his opinions and feelings with other men. Again; his character is injured because he is accustomed to value his acquisitions and his objects, by a false test. We are not about to enter upon a disquisition as to the proper objects of effort, or the most useful modes of employment; they are obvious enough for our purposes; as it is obvious enough that he who invents a steam-engine which shall give to ten men the power of a thousand, has done a better thing than if his ingenuity were employed in suggesting an original guess as to the position of a comma or an accent in some questionable Greek verse. This is an extreme case, but it serves to That scholars are not always, and of necessity, sages, sounds a little too much like a truism to be illustrated at great length. Upon this point common opinion may be adduced as good evidence. The world deems it impossible, that a man should be one of them, that he should be prompt, shrewd, full of resources, conversant with realities and judging wisely about them, illustrate the principle; and without farand at the same time a laborious, hard- ther inquiry into the abstract nature of reading student, a man of vast erudition, utility, we would assert, or rather agree, saturated, as it were, with book-knowledge, with what it is the fashion to assert now-aand altogether an eminent scholar. And days, that the strong, direct tendency of the world is right about it, for the thing is all things in the present age, is towards impossible. An eminent scholar-we use utility. This, men are beginning to look the phrase as meaning one who would take at as the end of all exertion; and things rank with those whom it would indicate in Europe, one who belonged to the same class and had reached the same grade-an eminent scholar can only have become so In considering questions of this kind,in forming an estimate of the worth of by a life passed where the best uses of life scholarship and the homage due to learned are well nigh forgotten,-in his closet. men, men are apt to be misled by a common His solitary lamp has not been shining and very influential error;-they too often do not understand, or do not recollect, while they reason,-that knowledge is not wisdom. The former we regard as an indispensable instrument, as a means of vast and inestimable value; but standing by itself, and employed in no uses, it is worth- less as any other neglected or misused tool. Wisdom is a very different thing; it is the end which science respects, and only so far as it respects this end should science be valued. It has an absolute and momentous worth; and men may well strive for it as for an unspeakable good, and value it in others as a quality which gives a rightful claim to the highest respect. We understand by this word, learning, simply an acquaintance, more or less extensive or accurate, with words and things as they actually are or were; with the literary works of different ages and nations; with the facts, which, together with certain arrangements and nomenclatures, constitute what are usually called the sciences; and with the languages employed in various times are getting to be valued only by their power of promoting the uses of life. In this most important respect, this age is beyond all that have preceded it, and the nation of which we are a part, beyond all other nations; but the pertinacious industry, the resolute self-denial, the unwavering devotion of the whole mind, which are needed the morbid energy of his over-wrought mind; but he thinks all this well and exults because he has turned over many volumes and learned what many men have thought, and written many pages for others through the silent watches of many nights, with commanding talents, and may have but bring him forth into the concerns of life; let him teach his weaker brethren to forego, to neglect or avoid this useless or evil thing and labour strenuously for that good one; let him discriminate nicely for them and for himself between that which is and that which is not desirable; let him tavern, where we enjoyed an excellent appeared with a large piece of court-plaishelp them who are busy in supplying the breakfast. We found here an American ter on her face, to cover a wound inflicted needs, enlarging the comforts, and prevent- shipmaster, who saluted Capt. M-- much by a missile from the galleries a few nights ing or curing the evils of life; let such be in the same way as he might have done before. I should have been wearied with his task, and his strength is as the feebleness of infancy. Now a character like this will his be, generally speaking, whom all men call an "eminent scholar;" and a character like this, this age, and especially this country, ought never to honour. had they parted the day before, when, in the performance but for Miss Stephens, at reality, they had not met, as I believe, for it is whose exquisite singing I came as near raptures as was becoming. The nobility and gentry are now generally in the country, and the house was not very brilliant; but it was decently filled, or, rather, indecently, for, from the dress of some of the ladies, I should have supposed them to be Cyprians; but P-- assured us he had seen Countesses dressed lower and higher. The following morning we found Mr Rosborough, his politeness in that hearty manner, which one is apt to use towards any man who gives a good impression, or removes a bad one. I have not seen one pretty face yet, from which it is, of course, reasonable to infer, after the sweeping manner of travellers, that the Irish ladies are not handsome. The general appearance of this city is much superior to that of any I have ever seen, London not excepted, as well as I recollect. Through the middle of it runs the Liffy, a pretty river, probably about two hundred But, we repeat, we are very far from feeling any contempt for learning; we would give to it, and to them who have it, due honour, and would hold out sufficient inducements for its due cultivation. Most, if not all, of the pursuits of life may be and Highlanders. These last swarm all who treated us in a very gentlemanlike followed with more advantage by him who over the city; their dress is very pictur- manner, examined our baggage slightly, has been taught the rudiments of learning esque; a blue bonnet encircled with a refused any fee, and offered to send it to than by the wholly ignorant; and in many band of red plaid, and surmounted with any place we wished. We thanked him for of them high and valuable success cannot black plumes, a white close jacket to the be attained without considerable acquaint- middle, and a philibeg, kilt, or short pettiance with literature. In our country there coat, descending just below the middle of are some, though not yet many, who are the thigh; the limbs below are quite naked, not obliged to belong to any profession, and except shoes and tartan hose, which do not not disposed to seek or hold public stations; reach to the knee; a goat-skin bag before to such it is honourable to love literature; them, adorned with rows of tags or tassels reand their studies, though not perhaps very sembling small shaving brushes, a musket, directly or largely beneficial, are yet some- and a basket-hilted broadsword swung over thing more than" strenuous idleness." Let their shoulders with a white leather belt, us then have learning, and let us honour it. complete the array of these knights of " the Let our colleges be supplied with teachers bottomless breeks." It must be a vile dress competent to all the duties of instruction; in winter. On returning from our walk and fifty or three hundred feet wide, quaylet all American productions, indicative of we were informed that the officers of His ed or edged on each side with hewn stone industry and ability and useful knowledge, Majesty's Customs, having been offended by for a mile and a half Irish, or two miles be received with honourable welcome, and some observations made by the Mate of the English, and crossed by six stone, and one let them who may choose their occupations, brig, had instituted very particular cast iron bridge. The quays are surmountand prefer literary pleasures to idleness or search, and finding concealed in divers parts ed, through their whole length, sometimes dissipation, be duly respected. But let us not of the vessel, articles which they were with an open stone railing, at others, with a forget, that only so much learning as is or pleased to consider contraband, had seized wall about two and a half feet high. Standing may be used is valuable, and let us especi- all the passengers' baggage, trunks, bedding, on one of these bridges, one may see nearly ally recognise and seek the most extensive, &c., and conveyed them away in triumph. the whole way, up or down, through the attainable, and important advantages of Much alarmed at finding our property in the city. This river is a very convenient guide learning, those which accompany the less- claws of such harpies, we hurried down to for strangers; for, if one loses his way, he er degrees of it, and may be enjoyed by al- the Custom House, to inquire into the affair. has only to go north or south, as the case most all in the discharge of all their duties. Here we were detained till near two may be, till he reaches it, and follow it to a Let our schools be supported by a perse- o'clock, and then obliged to depart unsat- some known point, from which he may take vering, liberal, and enlightened patronage, isfied. All we could get for an answer a new departure. The streets abound with and every means be actively employed to was, that our baggage might possibly be at gentry in slashed sleeves, yea, and slashed secure to the intellect of each one of the Mr Rosborough's on Rogerson's quay. As breeches too. I saw yesterday the ne plus people of this country so much cultivation this was at some distance, we resolved to dine ultra of tatterdemalions-the very prince of and knowledge as shall enlarge and correct upon the business, eating being generally a rags-strolling along with his right hand in his views concerning all his duties and matter of paramount importance for some his breeches pocket, and his left in his borights, and supply him with the best mo- days to landsmen, after a voyage across the som, looking as if this fair world was cretives for good conduct. We shall then Atlantic. In the afternoon we proceeded to ated for his sole accommodation. This is have no need to lament that few among our Mr Rosborough's, where, after waiting till an exceedingly lazy people. About fifty learned can abide a comparison with the six P. M. in vain, as the gentleman was not rods below one of the bridges are two ferry eminent scholars of Europe. at home, we returned in high dudgeon at hav- boats, each rowed by two men, who get a ing wasted half the day in this unprofitable good living by carrying those across at a pursuit. In the evening we went to the half penny apiece, who are too indolent, or theatre, to hear Miss Stephens in 'Lionel too busy, as the case may be, to walk to the and Clarissa.' The theatre appeared to me bridge; and one sees persons frequently, to be a little larger than that in Boston, whose array would indicate them to be and, in general, not much more beautiful. worth some sixpence or thereabouts, payIn one particular it is better, the benches ing their mite to save themselves a few of the pit are covered and stuffed; both men rods of walking. and women occupy it. The mode of lightI am amazed at the variety of vehicles ing by moon-light lamps, instead of candles, here;-tilburies, gingles, sociables, and a We shall, in a future number, state our opinion as to the condition of society which could create a numerous class of eminently learned men, and as to the character which, it is to be hoped, the scholars of this country will have. LETTERS FROM A TRAVELLER. Dublin, September 13. On Wednesday morning, twenty-fourdays after we embarked, we set foot on the terra-firma of green Erin, and walked up the banks of the Liffy to the Custom House long etcetera of indescribable machines to put people in ridiculous situations. If any or common lamps, produces a pleasing ef- tonish the natives by sporting a sociable, the following is a recipe: Take a large round hand-basket, wheels of wheelbarows, rock, which may be called real estate in pairs, and therefore closed; and as the Sexton was too genteel a person to rise at such a plebeian hour as eight o'clock, I was obliged to forego the hope of seeing the interior, and the Dean's monument. I the most literal sense, is tenanted by seafowl, who are obliged to pay a sort of rent in kind, that is, in eggs, to the landlord, who, moreover, sometimes takes the body of the lessee without much form of law. On Tuesday morning we landed at Troon, a small port of entry in the Firth. The town, went into a small church in the neighbour and indeed all the neighbourhood, belongs hood, where the morning service was be- to the Duke of Portland, and though an inginning. The congregation at this hour, significant place, containing hardly a dozen you may be sure, was none of the most fashionable. The preacher went through his duty, as it seemed to me, with great sang-froid, and appeared to have very little and stout hogshead hoops, of each two,- | the sun had been up some time. I was mount the hoops vertically upon the axles disappointed on arriving at St Patrick's Caof the wheels, by way of springs, and the thedral, to find that it was undergoing rehand-basket as firmly as you can upon the hoops; shafts like any other vehicle, and for the want of a shelty, take a donkey; for a driver procure the raggedest miscreant in B yard, where they abound; a Hingham bucket turned upside down may be lashed to the front of the basket for his seat, and the thing is complete. Get into the basket with any friend that will join you, and drive off, and if you are not tumbled into the mud before you get far, you will have better luck than every body has in a sociable. The gingles, or jaunting cars, are constructed on a principle which is the reverse of the sociable; for, as in the latter it is obvious that the parties must ride face to face, in the former they are placed back to back, and are carried side foremost with the feet swinging in the air, from which you may further infer that the sociable is the more genteel of the two. Dublin was formerly much infested with mendicants, who have since been in a great measure suppressed by authority. Many houses, it has a stone mole, and two large dry docks of the same materials, all constructed by the Duke, who employs several large vessels to carry coal from his mines concern about the sermon which he read to Ireland; for, though the Irish have plenty to us. I was surprised to learn afterwards, of coal in their own island, they are not that he was Charles Maturin, which circum-allowed to dig it, but compelled to buy it of stance, had I known it before, would most probably have materially influenced my opinion of his performance. There was little in the streets, on my return, to remind me that it was Sunday. The old women did not seem to imagine that the commandment extended to the trade in nuts and apples. In the course of the forenoon we went to the Castle chapel, and of the professional beggars now conduct had the honor of sitting in the pew of his their operations more warily. A stranger, excellency Earl Talbot, Lord Lieutenant of on approaching the stand of a fruit-seller, Ireland. The pews here are all private, and will often be surprised by a most pathetic appeal to his charitable feelings, and sometimes the language used on these occasions is in the highest degree shocking to New England ears. There are many fine old buildings in Dublin, and more fine new ones. A noble monument to the memory of Lord Nelson stands in Sackville street, and another is now erecting in the Phenix park for Lord Wellington; which Phenix park is the finest in the three kingdoms, being thirteen miles in extent, "sit fides penes auctores." I do not vouch for it. The appearance of the lower orders in this metropolis is digraceful usually locked, no one being admitted but by a special introduction; so you perceive that we are getting on in the world. You may be curious to know how we effected this, but I pretermit the explanation, as in no way befitting the grandeur of the occasion. Above the altar, in this chapel, is a large painted window, the effect of which is very magnificent. The lofts, or galleries, are pannelled with black oak, richly carved and fretted, each pannel bearing the coat of arms of a Lord Lieutenant, with their names beneath; the arms, devices, names, &c., being all carved on the wood, without the frippery of gilding or painting. One with the pulpit, reading desk, &c., are also of carved oak. This evening we sail for the Clyde. Farewell. to their government, which one would imag- is not likely to attend much to the service ine, from the number of soldiers quartered in such a building, amid such a catalogue of here, was upheld by stronger support than illustrious names as Pembroke, Sidney, its popularity. Club law, however, is prob- Essex, Grafton, Derby, Northumberland, ably a familiar code to the Irish. Pat,' &c. On one side of the gallery is the said a man of whom I was purchasing some throne of His Excellency, on the other that trifle, 'where have you been lately?" of the Bishop of Dublin. These, together Agh! I was just kilt fighting these three nights,' was the answer. I looked round at the respondent, a tall gaunt watchman. This minion of the moon leaned on a rusty pike, whilst his array and countenance bore strong witness in favor of his veracity; for there was hardly a piece of whole cloth as big as your hand, in the former, and scarcely a vestige of humanity, except a pair of shrewd Irish eyes, in the latter. He went Glasgow, September 19. We went on board the vessel, which was to convey us to Scotland on Sunday evening, but the Captain being as drunk as a lord, and having a few friends with him in on, with ineffable brogue, to detail the a similar situation, we were unable to get fighting of those nights,' and, by his own off before midnight. The following day was account, this trusty guardian of the peace thick and rainy, so that we could see little had entered with great zeal into the vari- or nothing of the land. In the evening, ous squabbles which he related, being, just as we came in sight of the Scottish hills, probably, by no means of the same mind with it began to clear, and soon became a beauthat pattern of quiet watchmen, Master tiful moonlight, by favour of which we had Dogberry, touching the prudence of med- a fine view of Aylzie [Ailsa] rock, which dling and making with any but true men. I sallied forth this morning before the servants in the house were stirring, though stands up directly in the middle of the Firth of Clyde. It is nine hundred feet high, and almost as far to bottom around it. This their English or Scotch neighbours. From the very landing to Kilmarnock, a distance of ten miles, is a rail-road, which is a castiron road; at least, the ruts are so, and the wheels of all vehicles which travel upon it are also of iron, and made exactly to fit the road; so you must perceive that all manner of reins, driving, &c., are matters of supererogation. A rope serves to stop the horse, when he has proceeded as far as the rider thinks necessary, and when he has once started, he must, will he, nill he, go to the end of the road before he can get back again. This contrivance is intended to facilitate the conveyance of the coal, and is less expensive than it would seem at first sight, since the iron is procured and cast at no great distance; and, as the work is done by the Duke's tenants, much of the money comes into his hands again in the shape of rents. All travellers must, of course, in passing these roads, make use of vehicles belonging to the same persons, for no other wheels will fit them; and, as his grace gets his share of the profits in the same way, he has the advantage of a toll, without the trouble of toll-gates. To these sources of revenue you must add the returns from Ireland for the coal, which costs the Duke nothing but the price of digging and conveyance. Troon, and all the neighbouring coast, was once notorious for smuggling, or freetrading, to the Isle of Man and Ireland; but the King's bull-dogs are now too numerous in the channel for such gentry as Mynheer Dirk Hatteraick and his crew, to flourish much. And this puts me in mind of Dandie Dinmont, who is said to be a character well known in Glasgow; a sturdy grazier of Dumfriesshire, who visits St Mungo's city periodically, to trade in woo', attended by the Peppers and Mustards of such renown. From Troon we proceeded to Kilmarnock in a noddy, a vehicle with cast-iron wheels, somewhat resembling, to compare small things with great, -the Czar's wintersledge, which contained all manner of apparatus for dining, &c. We had neither tables, chairs, nor victuals, to be sure, but it was not for want of room. We were securely locked up in this Brobdignagian diligence, and trundled away merrily. The jolting was not excessive, but every pebble, that lay in the ruts, told, as springs did not enter into |