"in

passengers, one of whom, an old woman, appeared inclined to enter into conversation with me, by offering several general remarks, to which I made no reply, when, turning round to her companion, she said in Irish that" in her opinion I was no stranger in the country, though I wore an English coat, for it was like one which young Mr. Odell had brought with him from London, and that she would soon find out if I had a drop of Irish blood in my veins." So far passed in Irish, of which the speaker supposed me ignorant. She then fixed her eyes on me, and with a penetrative look commenced a story in English of a young Irishman "who went to foreign parts-to Newfoundland every step of the way, where he wished to be thought a Londoner, and held himself so high that he never would throw a word to one of his own people; and in his endeavours to disguise his native accent, cut up the king's English till there was no substance at all left in it-to qualify it sure;" and how " he was once met by one Mr. Jeremiah Coughlan, an undoubted gentleman of the real ould stock,' who gave him, with the advice of never being ashamed of his own country, a sound drubbing." Here pointed the moral of her tale, a contrivance to rouse my patriotic feelings, and induce me to speak. The attempt was rendered still more vigorous, and the scene more comic, by the silent assistance of the remaining passengers, who appeared, as if by some tacit agreement, to have deputed the old crone to put me to the question, while they remained mute spectators of the event, only betraying their interest by a fixed gaze, and occasionally a mysterious and approving nod, when the discourse appeared to bear home upon me.

Another subject of unceasing inquiry with the peasantry is the hour. It is generally allowed that those who make the least use of their time are most curious in time-keepers, and you never meet an idle peasant but his first question is-Would your honour be after telling me what's o'clock? No reciprocal information can be gained until satisfaction on this point is given.-And one of my companions used frequently to amuse us by taking out his watch on

the approach of any person, and as soon as they arrived within speaking distance, would proclaim-It is two o'clock-how far are we from? This was, however, a joke to be avoided in cases of emergency, as we found it difficult, with our most engaging manners, sometimes to make our way.

In the wild parts of Ireland the pictorial traveller will receive little assistance in his researches from the peasantry, and must rely on his own exertions and enterprize for the attainment of his object. Should he happen to have a slight knowledge of the Irish language, or can get the names of places translated to him, they will often convey a clearer and more correct idea of the spot than can be extorted by dint of cross-examination-" Conveniunt rebus Nomina sæpe suis."

Sometimes our united efforts to extort information met with no better success than the following dialogue :

"Is it to

-?"

you are going? fait and that's not the nearest road

-being 'tis no road at all.”

"Then had I better go yon way?"

Och! indeed and I would'nt advise your going that way at all. 'Tis few people goes that way, for there's a big black dog there, and he'll ate you up entirely."

"Which way then can I go?"

"Fait! and the best way you'd go is just to be staying where you are."

The lower classes are generally unwilling to serve as guides in the wild parts of the country, declining the offers made them for such service with all that indifference and quiet humour which Miss Edgeworth so admirably delineates; and the difficulty of obtaining assistance appears to increase in proportion with the necessity of the demand.

"Och! I'd have no objection in life to go wid your honour if

supposing I could just lave my troat at home," is no uncommon reply to your request, and is intended to express a doubt as to the safety of the expedition; which, considering the period of this visit being that immediately preceding the late disturbances, may be readily supposed to have some foundation; but in vain you seek to learn the cause or extent of their fears, or, in short, to dive below the surface of their thoughts.

"Och! indeed, no particular danger, your honours-only 'tis an ugly way that way, any way I'm thinking—but your honours knows best to be sure if ye've bisness there I'm just contint to stay in a whole skin—and there's ould Judy, your honours, and the childer all looking up to me, and small blame to them—sure its much pace I should get wid them in regard of risking their bread, not to mention my own, and maybe I'd be laving my bones to whiten out yonder. Och! its out of the way entirely."

It is not easy to detect the real degree of fear here expressed from the evident exaggeration; yet it would appear there must be some strong motive to deter these very poor people from earning a sum so easily, something more powerful than the want of taste for exploring -though it is certain they are, to use their own expression, "contint," without much exertion. Nothing can be more difficult than to obtain information in point of road, distance, or situation of any object. You seldom arrive within five miles of the truth. When crossing the mountains from Gougaun Lake to Inchegeela, I was told that village was "worse" (more) than three miles from me. After walking about an hour and a half I again inquired—“ it was worse than four miles." The actual distance was about ten. The contradictory answers you get as you proceed are not a little annoying, and at times made us almost hopeless. One of my party, more from curiosity than the prospect of gaining a satisfactory reply, accosted a man respecting the length of a glen from a road on which

we met him, and where we had reason to believe were some fine waterfalls.

"How far is it up yonder glen before you come to the waterfalls?" "The waterfalls is it? indeed, and its a cross way, and

ship would never be getting there."

"We heard they were within half-a-mile.”

"Och! they are not—and no road."

"Is there a great fall of water?"

your lady

"I never was there myself, but I know 'tis a great way."

"Is it three miles?"

"Fait! and three miles would see you but a small part of the way." "Is it six miles, do you think?"

"Och! 'tis up entirely !"

66

This up entirely, or out of the way entirely, is the conclusion at which you arrive; it seems to imply beyond reach or knowledge, and is frequently used instead of " I don't know," to which the Irish cottager has a peculiar aversion, perhaps from the phrase being applied as a term of reproach to any stupid or simple person, coupling it with the Christian name, as Shane Neather, literally John I don't know, implies John the Fool.

The higher classes in Ireland are ever willing to entertain the traveller and assist in the advancement of his journey, when he has clearly proved it absolutely necessary to proceed, for it is not a matter of question how to get admittance to the first houses in the country, the dilemma is, how to leave them. To a tourist, with sufficient time at his disposal, this may be agreeable enough; if otherwise circumstanced, he will find it requisite to avoid the delivery of letters of recommendation; for however gratifying a warm and hospitable reception may be, the sacrifice of time to be made in return is beyond all calculation. The over-abundant kindness of the host (for an immediate invitation always follows an introduction) seldom permits his guest the free use of his own senses, and to expostulate is vain. If,

Dr. Syntax like, he travels with a sketch-book, and states himself in search of the picturesque, he is hurried from one eminence to another, and assured it affords the best view in the country, as extent and beauty, when applied to the landscape, are generally confounded. A party is arranged to meet him at dinner, each of whom requests a visit; one assures him that a most celebrated castle is on his grounds, while another urges the charms of a glen near his residence in a tone it is impossible to refuse. After a journey of some miles and the loss of an entire morning, this renowned castle may prove but the naked walls of an old tower, dismantled of even its ivy garb, and the "charming glen" perhaps turns out to be neither more nor less than the best fox earth in the country. Thus the circle of acquaintances caused by a single introduction, every one leading to others, goes on increasing like the circles produced by a stone when flung into the water.

Letters, however, are needless in obtaining all the attention and assistance requisite; a respectable appearance is a sufficient recommendation to the nobility and gentry, but towards the cottagers a certain courteousness of approach must be observed, ere you can win them to usefulness. If you seek information, the tone of interrogation must be conciliatory, not dictatorial; if shelter or protection, throw yourself at once on their hospitality and you secure a warm and welcome reception.

The most romantic parts of Ireland are little frequented and travellers unlooked for, hence it becomes necessary to study the art of pleasing, which is in this case more valuable than "house and land.” The poorest peasant will freely offer to share his cabin and divide his potatoes with you, though at the same time eying you very suspiciously, inasmuch as, being unable to account for your appearance, he usually supposes you belong either to the army or to the excise -two bodies equally disliked by them. Yet their greatest fears never destroy the national spirit of hospitality.