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THE SLUMBERING SEA.

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is it by employment only that he does them service, for he opens their hearts by binding them closely to him by acts of kindness, by his care for them in sickness, and by his treatment of them as independent men when health and strength is theirs. Were there many such benefactors to Ireland as the man we speak of, this country would cease to be a blot on England's greatness, and her people would, I firmly believe, be no longer stigmatised as laden with the terrible vices of treachery and ingratitude."

We had descended the mountain, stopping occasionally to rest, and casting lingering glances, as travellers are wont to do on a lovely prospect which they are little likely to behold again, when Edward, leaning his arm on the neck of his wife's little steed, turned his face towards the radiant west, where the sun was setting in a golden glory, and said, half mournfully—

It is there that we are bound, my Bertha; and, alas! how can we, short-sighted mortals, tell whether we four friends will ever stand together face to face again! Great changes are before us, at least so I am warned by a presentiment which never yet has failed me; but sometimes, Bertha dear, I almost feel as though the voyage we so much dread may be escaped, and that we may be allowed, after

all our trials and anxieties, to remain in peace at home."

"For

"God grant it!" responded Bertha. peacefully as it stretches there before us, the sea is not, as we all know-to be trusted-and I am a very coward, Edward, and a sore burthen upon you with my sickly nerves and fancies! Can I also ever forget that it is from kin of mine you meet with this most inexcusable coercion, and that"

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Hush, love," broke in Fairholme; "sufficient to the day is the evil thereof; and should it be our fate to traverse, ere many weeks are over, that trackless waste, the disposal of our lot will be in higher hands than his who thinks, that in setting forth upon our distant voyage, we are the tools of one as powerless as ourselves."

CHAPTER XIV.

THE CHURCH UPON THE MOOR-COMING TRIBULATION

-AGRARIAN OUTRAGES.

THE following day was Sunday,-another rest day from our not over-fatiguing sight-seeing labours,and the last which we were likely to spend in the westernmost portion of this religiously distracted country.

The Protestant church (for there was one "in it," with a congregation which amounted to six) stood, and doubtless does so still, in an exposed situation, and on the dreariest of moors-on what, in short, may truly be called the very "abomination of desolation."

Having said this much of the site of the temple, some idea may be formed of the ministering priest thereof when I add, that his countenance was as gloomy and uninviting as the desolate region in which his lot was cast.

drearily through the

His voice, too,
His voice, too, sounded very

unfilled building, as he held

T

forth for the customary hour, not only against the "idolatrous Papist," but against the "rich" of all degrees and denominations.

"How hardly shall the rich man. enter the kingdom of God." This was his text, and forty minutes at least of his discourse were employed in running over, with apparently intense satisfaction to himself, the long list of the excluded. So lengthy indeed was the catalogue, and so comprehensive, that I began to marvel to how many, besides his honoured self, he would permit the hope of being admitted hereafter into the kingdom of heaven.

That he was not subject to one of the weaknesses incidental to humanity I am willing to admit, for no smile crossed his dark face during the ludicrous, though trifling, episode which occurred during the service, and which I shall relate for the possible entertainment of my readers.

We-namely, that very small "remnant" of a Protestant congregation-had just taken our places, and were, with due reverence, hearing ourselves exhorted to our duties as "dearly beloved brethren " by the dark-browed missionary, when a dismal wail, as hollow-sounding as it was unexpected, echoed through the church. It was not in

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human nature to resist turning round, in order to discover, if possible, the cause of the outcry. A very simple one it proved, being neither more nor less than the low of an animal common enough in the country, but an unusual visitant to a place of worship. Walking along the aisle, with solemn step and slow, came the "small black little cow," the good "poor man's baste," whose road had been mistaken, and who came (a not too well fed convert) to raise her voice among those of the reformed religion.

It was a ludicrous, and yet a solemn affair, both in the ingress and the exit of the patient-looking animal, yet we all kept our countenances demurely during her short visit; nor was it till we listened, as we left the building, to the comments of those outside, that we indulged in a passing fit of merri

ment.

"Bedad, Thady, but that's a great joomper entirely," said a Papistical peasant who, on his return from his own prayers, had been informed by a friend of what had occurred. "Whose cow is it at

all?"

"It isn't mysel' as knows," answered Thady, sulkily.

"It's hersel 'll be having the name, by the blessing

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