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sign, only a few days before starting; and one inconvenience resulting from this vacillation has been the departure of several for England or the coast, who, had I not changed my first plan, would have confined themselves at home to receive us. This will hinder a projected excursion into Galway, disappoint my hope of seeing Edgworthstown, and materially circumscribe our movements; but the certainty of a dissolution of Parliament reconciles me greatly-not that I have any personal fear, for strangers are never molested; but I do not wish to expose to my young fellowtraveller the scene that will too surely be presented in some parts of Ireland, at this time.

How different was the journey in a close stage, from our delightful drives about the country during the past week! The scenery presented little to interest, or else I was not in a mood to be interested by it. Yet one thing is always striking in Ireland-the courteous kindness of all classes where they see it will not be coldly repelled. No sooner was the fact of my having a painful ancle discovered, than all manner of considerate contrivances were adopted by our fellow-travellers to afford it an easy position; and by the time we reached Gorey I had become a little more alive to the surrounding objects. We had passed into Wicklow, but sad recollections continued to

attach themselves to the locality. A dreadful and disastrous battle was fought here during the rebellion; one incident of which you must have, because I am persuaded that the touching anecdote gave rise to a song that we have both admired. You remember,

• The minstrel boy to the wars is gone,'

but I doubt whether you have heard its probable origin.

In the engagement that here took place between the King's troops and the rebels, the latter were victorious. Among their prisoners was a little drummer, named Hunter, twelve years of age, who fell into their hands. They told him he should still carry his drum and beat it for them on the march; but the intrepid child, filled with loyal devotion, exclaimed, 'Never! the drum that has sounded in the King's service shall never be beaten for rebels;' and instantly leaping upon it, he burst it completely through. Must I add the sequel? the heroic little fellow was directly put to death, perforated with pikes.

Mr. Moore visited this spot; he could not but know the tale, which is recorded in the annals of the rebellion. It was worthy of the author of 'Captain Rock' to steal this trophy from the brow of loyalty, and with a little of his own brilliant colouring superadded, to place it on that of

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something very different. The minstrel boy, who to prevent the desecration of his harp, tore its chords asunder,' was evidently fighting on the other side. Poor little Hunter lost the wreath of poetic fame by being true to his King; but we, at least, shall not again fall in with The minstrel boy' without recollecting the youthful drummer at Gorey.

We now approached the far-famed vale of Avoca, and my curiosity, sharpened by the assurances of my fellow-travellers that the scenery would surpass my expectation, led to the achievement of an exploit which, considering all things, you would hardly expect. I was prevailed on to try for an outside place during one stage; and by the extreme kindness of some very respectable females who sat behind the coachman, warmly seconded by that functionary, room for me and my young friend was made on the opposite extremes of their seat. All their good-natured endurance of a squeeze however, scarcely afforded space, and my situation was not very enviable, perched on three inches of board, nothing to rest my foot upon, and while the vehicle thundered on at the full speed of four fine horses down a steep road, I was indebted for support to nothing but a strap passed across the luggage on the roof of the coach, of which I contrived to take a firm

hold, at the length of my outstretched arm. Repent I certainly did, and heartily wished myself imprisoned again; but as the beauty of the vale opened on us, all thought both of danger and uneasiness vanished. It appears like a dream, when I recal our rapid flight through that enchanting region. Our road was a continued sweep downwards, a perpetual curve, every gradual turn of which revealed some new feature; but all in the same style of magnificence. The bank on the left is a mountain, abrupt, and so richly wooded, that the trees which continually struck our heads with their luxuriant boughs seemed to rise into the sky. Occasionally an open space occurred, and then we saw the naked mountains where the copper mines are worked, with all their gigantic and varied machinery displayed. To the right, we were sometimes enclosed as on the other side; but frequent openings, leading the eye downwards into a dell, gave such a succession of delicious views that I was transported almost beyond taking due care to preserve my delicate equilibrium. stream, so rich, so full, so wildly playful, seemed to race us on the other side of a beautiful hedgerow, above which rose at short intervals a line of noble trees; then the lovely stream wound away, encircling a level sward of green-real Irish emerald green, in the deepest, softest, coolest excess of

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that refreshing hue. It strolled past one of those ancient round towers, the sight of which brought home to my very soul the fact of being in Ireland; for I had not seen one since I quitted it thirteen years ago. Again the road became a close vista of lofty trees; and when they next opened, the picture to the right was changed into a strand of clear pebbles, upon which meandered most irregularly some shallow rivulets crossing each other's path, a picturesque bridge being thrown over near the spot. This was the Meeting of the Waters, as I learned from the coachman, who seemed to enjoy my delight almost as much as I enjoyed the scenery that called it forth. It was impossible to restrain the exclamation, flower of the earth, first gem of the sea,' which always awakens a response in the bosoms of these ardent people. Oh why will we allow them to hate us as a nation, while we hold the gift that would attach them in the closest bonds of love and peace for ever!

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After admiring the pretty little fishing town of Arklow, and sending some home-bound thoughts over the fine expanse of sea that unexpectedly appeared, studded with many a tawny sail, and slender boat, I resigned my elevated seat, with abundance of hearty and sincere acknowledgements to the accommodating party, and thence

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