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the miseries of those infinite and laborious Edgeworth, however, we think, is not in any pursuits in which persons who pretend to very imminent danger of being disabled by be fasionable consume their days, would be this ingenious imputation; since, if we were but an unprofitable task; while nobody could to select any one of the traits that are indibe found who would admit that they belong- cated by her writings as peculiarly characed to the class of pretenders; and all that teristic, and peculiarly entitled to praise, we remained therefore was to show, that the should specify the singular force of judgment pursuits themselves were preposterous; and and self-denial, which has enabled her to reinflicted the same miseries upon the unques- sist the temptation of being the most brilliant tioned leaders of fashion, as upon the hum- and fashionable writer of her day, in order to blest of their followers. For this task, too, be the most useful and instructive. Miss Edgeworth possessed certain advantages The writer who conceived the characters, of which it would have been equally unnatu- and reported the conversations of Lady Dela. ral and unfortunate for her readers, if she had cour–Lady Geraldine-and Lady Dashsort not sought to avail herself.
(to take but these three out of her copious We have said, that the hints by which we dramatis persona), certainly need not be afraid may be enabled to correct those errors of of being ercelled by any of her contemporaopinion which so frequently derange the whole ries, in that faithful but flattering representascheme of life, must be given by one whose tion of the spoken language of persons of wit authority is not liable to dispute. Persons of and politeness of the present day-in that fashion, therefore, and pretenders to fashion, light and graceful tone of raillery and arguwill never derive any considerable benefit ment-and in that gift of sportive but cutting from all the edifying essays and apologues médisance, which is sure of success in those that superannuated governesses and precep- circles, where success is supposed to be most tors may indite for their reformation ;-nor difficult, and most desirable. With the confrom the volumes of sermons which learned sciousness of such rare qualifications, we do divines may put forth for the amendment of think it required no ordinary degree of fortithe age ;—nor the ingenious discourses which tude to withstand the temptation of being the philosophers may publish, from the love of flattering delineator of fashionable manners, fame, money, or mankind. Their feeling as instead of their enlightened corrector; and to to all such monitors is, that they know nothing prefer the chance of amending the age in at all about the matter, and have nothing to which she lived, to the certainty of enjoying do with personages so much above them ;- its applauses. Miss Edgeworth, however, is and so they laugh at their prosing and pre- entitled to the praise of this magnanimity sumption--and throw them aside, with a min. For not only has she abstained from dressing gled sense of contempt and indignation. Now, any of her favourites in this glittering drapery, Miss Edgeworth happens fortunately to bé but she has uniformly exhibited it in such a born in the condition of a lady-familiar from way as to mark its subordination to the natural early life with the polite world, and liable to graces it is sometimes allowed to eclipse, and no suspicion of having become an author from to point out the defects it still more frequently any
other motives than those she has been conceals. It is a very rare talent, certainly, pleased to assign.
to be able to delineate both solid virtues and But it is by no means enough that we should captivating accomplishments with the same be on a footing, in point of rank, with those force and fidelity ;-but it is a still rarer exto whom we are moved to address our instruc- ercise of that talent, to render the former both tions. It is necessary that we should also more amiable and more attractive than the lat. have some relish for the pleasures we accuse ter-and, without depriving wit and vivacity them of overrating, and some pretensions to of any of their advantages, to win not only the glory we ask them to despise. If a man, our affections, but our admiration away from without stomach or palate, takes it into his them, to the less dazzling qualities of the heart head to lecture against the pleasures of the and the understanding. By what resources table—or an old maid against flirtation—or a Miss Edgeworth is enabled to perform this miser against extravagance, they may say as feat, we leave our readers to discover, from many wise and just things as they please, the perusal of her writings ;-of which it is but they may be sure that they will either be our present business to present them with a laughed at, or not listened to; and that all slender account, and a scanty sample. their dissuasives will be set down to the score These three new volumes contain but three of mere ignorance or envy. In the same way, stories ;-the first filling exactly a volume, the a man or woman who is obviously without second half a volume, and the last no less lalents to shine or please in fashionable life, than a volume and a half. The first, which may utter any quantity of striking truths as is entitled "Vivian,” is intended to show not to its folly or unsatisfactoriness, without ever only into what absurdities, but into what guilt commanding the attention of one of its vota- and wretchedness, a person, otherways esti. ries. The inference is so ready, and so con- mable, may be brought by that "infirmity of solatory—that all those wise reflections are purpose" which renders him incapable of the fruit of disappointment and mortification resisting the solicitations of others, --of saying —that they want to reduce all the world to No, in short, on proper occasions. The moral, their own dull level—and to deprive others perhaps, is brought a little too constantly forof gratifications which they are themselves ward; and a little more exaggeration is adincapable of tasting. The judgment of Miss | mitted into the construction of the story, than Miss Edgeworth generally employs ;—but it wit, and kind-heartedness of the lower Irish; is full of characters and incidents and good and makes an acquaintance at the latter with sense, like all her other productions. * one group of Catholic cottagers, more inter
But we pass at once to the last, the longest, esting, and more beautifully painted, in the and by far the most interesting of these tales simple colouring of nature, than all the ArcaIt is entitled, “The Absentee ;" and is in- dians of pastoral or romance. After detecting tended to expose the folly and misery of re- the frauds and villany of the tyrannical agent, nouncing the respectable character of country he hurries back to London, to tell his story to ladies and gentlemen, to push, through in- his father; and arrives just in time to hinder tolerable expense, and more intolerable scorn, him from being irretrievably entangled in his into the outer circles of fashion in London. snares. He and Miss Nugent now make joint That the case may be sufficiently striking, suit to Lady Clonbrony to retire for a while Miss Edgeworth has taken her example in an to Ireland, , -an application in which they are Irish family, of large fortune, and consider- powerfully seconded by the terrors of an exeable rank in the peerage ; and has enriched cution in the house; and at last enabled to her main story with a greater variety of col- succeed, by a solemn promise that the yellow lateral incidents and characters, than in any damask furniture of the great drawing-room of her other productions.
shall be burnt on the very day of their arrival. Lord and Lady Clonbrony are the absentees; In the mean time, Lord Colambre, whose —and they are so, because Lady Clonbrony wider survey of the female world had finally is smitten with the ambition of making a determined him to seek happiness with Grace figure in the fashionable circles of London ;— Nugent, even with an humble fortune, suffers where her very eagerness obstructs her suc- great agony, from a discovery malicionsly cess; and her inward shame, and affected made by Lady Dashfort, of a stain on her contempt for her native country, only make mother's reputation ; which he is enabled at her national accent, and all her other nation- length to remove, and at the same time to realities more remarkable. She has a niece, cover a splendid inheritance, which had been however, a Miss Grace Nugent, who is full long withheld by its prevalence, from the woof gentleness, and talent, and love for Ireland man of his choice. This last event, of course, -and a son, Lord Colambre, who, though reconciles all parties to the match; and they educated in England, has very much of his all set out, in bliss and harmony, to the paracousin's propensities. The first part of the dise regained, of Clonbrony—their arrival story represents the various mortifications and and reception at which is inimitably described repulses which Lady Clonbrony encounters, in a letter from one of their postilions, with in her grand attempt to be very fashionable which the tale is concluded. in London-the embarrassments, and gradual In this very brief abstract, we have left out declension into low company, of Lord Clon- an infinite multitude of the characters and brony—their plots to marry Lord Colambre to occurrences, from the variety and profusion an heiress-and the growth of his attachment of which the story derives its principal attracto Miss Nugent, who cordially shares both in tion; and have only attempted indeed to give his regret for the ridicule which his mother is such a general notice of the relations and at so much expense to excite, and his wish to proceedings of the chief agents, as to render snatch her from a career at once so inglorious the few extracts we propose to make intelliand so full of peril. Partly to avoid his moth- gible. The contrivance of the story indeed is er's importunities about the heiress, and partly so good, and the different parts of it so conto escape from the fascinations of Miss Nugent, cisely represented, that we could not give an whose want of fortune and high sense of duty adequate epitome of it in much less compass seem to forbid all hopes of their union, he sets than the original. We can venture on nothing, out on a visit to Ireland; where the chief in- therefore, but a few detached specimens: terest of the story begins. There are here And we take the first from a class of society, many admirable delineations of Irish charac- which we should scarcely have thought charter, in both extremes of life; and a very natu- acteristic of the country in question : we mean ral development of all its most remarkable the Fine ladies of the Plebeian order, who features. At first, his Lordship is very nearly dash more extravagantly, it seems in Dublin, entangled in the spells of Lady Dashfort and than any other place in this free and comher daughter; and is led by their arts to form mercial empire. Lord Colambre had the rather an unfavourable opinion of his country- good fortune to form an acquaintance with men. An accidental circumstance, however, one of these, the spouse of a rich grocer, disclosing the artful and unprincipled charac- who invited him to dine with her at her villa, ter of these fair ladies, he breaks from his on his way back from the county of Wickbondage, and travels incog. to his father's two low. The description, though of a different estates of Colambre and Clonbrony ;- the character from most of Miss Edgeworth's one flourishing under the management of a delineations, is so picturesque and lively, that conscientious and active agent; the other we cannot help thinking it must have been going to ruin under the dominion of an un- taken from the life. We are tempted, thereprincipled oppressor. In both places, he sees fore, to give it at full length. a great deal of the native politeness, native
"After a charming tour in the county of Wich * I now omit the original account of the two first low, where the beauty of the natural scenery, and tales ; and give only what relates to the last, -and the taste with which those natural beauties have most interesting, and characteristic.
been cultivated, far surpassed the sanguine expectations Lord Colambre had formed, his Lordship | a stick. But where will I get your honour's hand ? and his companions arrived at Tusculum; where for it's coming on so dark, I can't see rightly.he found Mrs. Raffarty, and Miss Juliana O'Leary: There! you're up now safe. Yonder candle's the very elegant--with a large party of the ladies and house.' Well, go and ask whether they can give gentlemen of Bray assembled in a drawing-room, us a night's lodging'. Is it ask? When I see the fine with bad pictures and gaudy gilding; The win. light!-Sure they'd be proud to give the traveller dows were all shut, and the company were playing all the beds in the house, let alone one. Take care cards, with all their might. This was the fashion of the potatoe furrows, that's all, and follow me of the neighbourhood. In compliment to Lord straight. I'll go on to meet the dog, who knows Colambre and the officers, the ladies left the card. me, and might be strange to your honour.' tables; and Mrs. Raflarıy, observing that his Lord. Kindly welcome!' were the first words Lord ship seemed partial to walking, took him out, as Colambre heard when he approached the corrage ; she said, to do the honours of nature and art.' and kindly welcome' was in the sound of the
“ The dinner had iwo great faults-profusion and voice, and in the countenance of the old woman, pretension. There was, in fact ten times more on who came out shading her rush candle from the ihe table ihan was necessary; and the entertain. wind, and holding it so as to light the path. When ment was far above the circumstances of the person he entered the cottage, he saw a cheerful fire and a by whom it was given: for instance, the dish of neat pretty young woman making it blaze : she fish at the head of the table had been brought across curtsied, put her spinning wheel out of the way, the island from Sligo, and had cost five guineas ; set a stool by the fire for ihe stranger; and repeaias the lady of the house failed not to make known.ing in a very low tone of voice, Kindly welcome, But, after all, things were not of a piece : there sir,' retired. Put down some eggs, dear, there's was a disparity between the entertainment and the plenty in the bowl,' said the old woman, calling to attendants; there was no proportion or fitness of her ; I'll do the bacon. Was not we lucky to be things. A painful endeavour at what could not be up ?-The boy's gone to bed, but waken him,' said attained, and a toiling in vain to conceal and repair she, turning to the postilion ; 'and he will help you deficiencies and blunders. Had the mistress of the with the chay, and put your horses in the bier for house been quiet; had she, as Mrs. Broadhurst the night."" would say, bui let ihings alone. let things take their "No: Larry chose to go on to Clonbrony with course; all would have passed off with well-bred the horses, that he mighi get the chaise mended people : but she was incessantly apologising, and betimes for his honour. The table was set; clean fussing and fretting inwardly and outwardly, and trenchers, hot potatoes, milk, eggs, bacon, and directing and calling to her servants-striving to kindly welcome to all.' 'Set the salt, dear; and make a buller who was deaf, and a boy who was the buiter, love; where's your head, Grace, dear?' hair-brained, do the business of five accomplished Grace!' repeated Lord Colambre, looking up; footnien of parts and figure. Mrs. Rafsarty called and to apologise for his involuntary exclama ion he • Larry! Larry! My Lord's plate there !-- James! | added, "Is Grace a common name in Ireland ? I bread, to Capiain Bowles !- James ! port wine, to can't say, plase your honour, but it was give her by the Major.- James ! James Kenny! James!' And Lady Clonbrony, from a niece of her own that was panting James toiled after her in vain. At length her foster.sister, God bless her; and a very kind one course was fairly got through; and after a tor- lady she was to us and to all when she was living in turing half hour, the second course appeared, and it; but those times are gone past,' said the old James Kenny was intent upon one thing, and Lar. woman, with a sigh. The young woman sighed ry upon another, so that the wine sauce for the bare too; and sitting down by the fire, began to count was spilt by their collision ; but what was worse, the notches in a little bit of stick, which she beld in There seemed little chance that the whole of this her hand; and after she had counted them, sighed second course should ever be placed aliogether again., 'But don't be sighing, Grace, now,' said rightly upon the table. Mrs. Raffarty cleared her the old woman ; 'sighs is bad sauce for the iravel. throai and nodded, and pointed, and sighed, and ler's supper; and we won't be troubling him with set Larry after Kenny, and Kenny after Larry; for more,' added she, turning to Lord Colambre, with what one did, the other undid; but at last, the a smile_ Is your egg done to your liking ?'. Pero Jady's anger kindled, and she spoke!— Kenny! fectly, thank you.' . Then I wish it was a chicken James Kenny, set the sea-cale ai this corner, and for your sake, which it should have been, and roast put down the grass, cross-corners; and match your too, had we time. I wish I could see you eat an. maccaroni yonder with them puddens, set-Ogh! other egg.' No more, thank you, my good lady ; James ! the pyramid in the middle can't ye.' The I never ate a better supper, nor received a more pyramid in changing places was overturned. Then hospitable welcome.' "0, ihe welcome is all we it was, that the mistress of the feast, falling back have to offer.' in her seat, and lifting up her hands and eyes in May I ask what that is ?' said Lord Colambre, despair, ejaculated : Oh, James ! James ! -The looking at the notched stick, which the young wopyramid was raised by the assistance of the mili. man held in her hand, and on which her eyes were fary engineers, and stood trembling again on its still fixed. It's a tally: plase your honour -1 base; but the lady's temper could not be so easily you're a foreigner-It's ihe way the labourer keeps restored to its equilibrium."'--pp. 25--28.
ihe account of the day's work with the overseer.
And there's been a mistake, and is a dispute here We hurry forward now to the cottage scene between our boy and the overseer; and she was at Clonbrony; which has made us almost counting the boy's tally, that's in bed, tired, for in equally in love with the Irish, and with the roth he's over-worked." • Would you want any writer who has painted them with such truth,
thing more from me, mother,' said the girl, rising
and furning her head away. No, child ; get away, pathos, and simplicity. An ingenious and for your heari's full' She went instantly, is good-natured postboy overturns his Lordship he hoy her brother? said Lord Colambre. No: in the night, a few miles from Clonbrony; he's her bachelor,' said the old woman, lowering and then says,
her voice. Her bachelor? That is, her sweet
heart : for she is not my daughter, though you heard "• If your honour will lend me your hand till I her call me mother. The boy's my son; but I am pull you up the back of the ditch, the horses will afeard they must give it up; for they're too poor, stand while we go. I'll find you as pretty a lodging and the tinies is hard-and the agent's harder than for the night, wiih a widow of a brother of my shis. the times! There's two of them, the under and ter's husband that was, as ever you slept in your life; the upper; and they grind the substance of one and your honour will be, no compare, snugger than berween them, and then blow one away like chaff: the inn al Clonbrony, which has no roof, the devil but we'll not be talking of that, to spoil your hon.
our's night's rest. The room's ready, and here's / prevent her pursuing her observations from the hand the rush liglit.' She showed him into a very small, io the face, which might have betrayed more than but neat room. • What a comfortable looking bed, Lord Colambre wished she should know, her own said Lord Colambre. “Ah, these red check cur- Grace came in at this instant. There, it's tor you tains,' said she, letting them down ; 'these have safe, mother dear-he lase!' said Grace, throwing · lasted well; they were give me by a good friend a packet into her lap. The old woman lifted up her now far away, over the seas, my Lady Člonbrony; hands to heaven with the lease between themand made by the prettiest hands ever you see, her ·Thanks be to Heaven! Grace passed on, and neice's, Miss Grace Nugent's, and she a litile child sunk down on the first seat she could reach. Her that time; sweet love ! all gone!' The old woman face fushed, and, looking much fatigued, she looswiped a tear from her eye, and Lord Colainbre did ened the strings of her bonnet and cloak.- Then, what he could to appear indifferent. She set down I'm tired!' but recollecting herselt, she rose, and The candle and left ihe room; Lord Colambre went curtsied to the gentleman. – What uired ye, dear ?' to bed, but he lay awake, 'revolving sweet and Why, alier prayers, we had to go-for the agent bitter thoughts.'
was not at prayers, nor at home for us, when we “ The kettle was on the fire, tea things set, called—we had 10 go all the way up to the castle ; every thing prepared for her guest, by the hospita- and there by great good luck, we found Mr. Nick ble hostess, who, thinking the genileman would Garraghty himself, come from Dublin, and the lase take tea to his breakfast, had sent off a gossoon by in his hands; and he sealed it up that way, and the first light to Clonbrony, for an ounce of tea, a handed it to me very civil. I never saw him so quarter of sugar, and a loaf of white bread; and good — though he offered me a glass of spirits, there was on the litile table good cream, milk, which was not manners to a decent young woman, bntter, eggs-all the promise of an excellent break in a morning-as Brian noticed after.'-. But why fast. It was a fresh morning, and there was a plea- didn'ı Brian come home all the way with you, sant fire on the hearth neatly swept up. The old Grace ?'— He would have seen me home,' said woman was sitting in her chimney corner, behind a Grace, 'only that he went up a piece of the mounlille skreen of white-washed wall, built out into tain for some stones or ore for the genileman,---for the room, for the purpose of keeping those who sat he had the manners to think of him this morning, at the fire from the blast of the door. There was a though shame for me. I had not, when I came in, loop hole in this wall, to let the light in, just at the or I would not have told you all this, and he himself height of a person's head, who was sitting near the by. See, there he is, mother.'-Brian came in very chimney: The rays of the morning sun now came hot, out of breath, with his hat full of stones. 'Good through it, shining across the face of the old woman, morrow to your honour. I was in bed last night ; as she sat kniuing ; Lord Colambre thought he had and sorry they did not call me up to be of sarvice. seldom seen a more agreeable countenance; intelli. Larry was telling us, this morning, your honour's gent eyes, benevolent smile, a natural expression from Wales, and looking for mines in Ireland, and of cheerfulness, subdued by age and misfortune. I heard talk that there was one on our mountain*A good morrow 10 you kindly, sir, and I hope may be, you'd be curious to see ; and so, I brought you got the night well ?-A fine day for us this the best I could, but I'm no judge.' Sunday morning; my Grace is gone to early prayers,
Vol. vi. pp. 182—188. 60 your honour will he content with an old woman to make your breakfast.-0), let me put in plenty, A scene of villainy now begins to disclose or it will never be good; and if your honour takes itself, as the experienced reader must have stirabout, an old hand will engage to make that to anticipated. The pencil writing is rubbed your liking any way, for by great happiness we have out: but the agent promises, that if they pay what will just answer for you, of the nicest meal the nuiller" made my Grace a compliment of, last up their arrears, and be handsome, with their une she went to the mill.'"-pp. 171-179. sealing money and glove money, &c. he will
grant a renewal.
To obtain the rent, the In the course of conversation, she informs widow is obliged to sell her cow.—But she her guest of the precarious tenure on which shall tell her story in her own words. she held the little possession that formed her only means of subsistence.
**** Well, still it was but paper we got for ihe cow';
Then that must be gold before the agent would take, ". The good lord himself granted us the lase ; | or touch i-so I was laying out to sell the dresser, the life's dropped, and the years is out : but we and had taken the plates and cups, and litle things had a pronrise of renewal in writing from the land off' it, and my boy was lifting it out with Andy the Jord.-God bless him ! if he was not away, he'd carpenter, that was agreeing for it, when in comes be a good gentleman, and we'd be happy and safe.' Grace, all rosy, and out of breath-it's a wonder I
But if you have a promise in writing of a rencwal, minded her run out, and not missed her-Mother, surely, you are safe, whether your landlord is absent says she, here's the gold for you, don't be stirring or presı'nı.' — Ah, no! that makes a great differ, your dresser.–And where's your own gown and when there's no eye or hand over the agent.— Yet, cloak, Grace ? says I. But, I beg your pardon, indeed, there,' added she, after a pause, “as you sir; may be I'm tiring you ?'-Lord Colambre en: say, I think we are safe ; for we have that memo. couraged her to go on.— Where's your gown and randum in writing, with a pencil, under his own cloak, Grace, says I.'— Gone,' says she. · The hand, on the back of the lase, to me, by the same cloak' was 100 warm and heavy, and I don't doubt, token when my good lord had his foot on the step mother, but it was that helped to make me faint of the coach, going away ; and I'll never forget this morning. And as to ihe gown, sure I've a the smile of her that got that good turn done for very nice one here, that you spun for me yourself. me, Miss Grace. And just when she was going to moiher; and that I prize above all the gowns that England and London, and young as she was, to ever came out of a loom; and that Brian said be. have the thought to stop and turn to the likes of came me to his fancy above any gown ever he see me! O, then if you could see her, and know her me wear, and what could I wish for more.'-Now, as I did! That was the comforting angel upon I'd a mind 10 scold her for going to sell the gown earth-look and voice, and heart and all! O, that unknown'st to me ; but I don't know how it was, she was here present, this minute !-But did you I couldn't scold her just then, so kissed her, and scald yourself i' said the widow to Lord Colambre. Brian the same; and that was what no man ever -Sure, you must have scaided yourself; for you did before.- And she had a mind to be angry with poured the kettle straight over your hand, and it him, but could not, nor ought not, says I; for he's boiling! O decar! to think of so young a gentle as good as your husband now, Grace; and no man man's hand shaking so like my own. Luckily, to can part yees now, says I, putting their hands to.
2 1 2
gether.-Well, I never saw her look so pretty; nor , followed them. My lady laning on my young lord, there was not a happier boy ihat minute on God's and Miss Grace Nugent that was, the beautifullest earth than my son, nor a happier mother than my angel that ever you set eyes on, with the finest self; and I thanked God that he had given them to complexion and sweetest of smiles, laning upon me; and down they both fell on their knees for my the old lord's arm, who had his hat off, bowing 10 blessing, liule worih as it was ; and my heart's all, and noticing the old tenants as he passed by blessing they had, and I laid my hands upon them. name. O, there was great gladness, and iears in the
It's the priest you must get to do this for you to midst ; for joy I could scarcely keep from myself. morrow, says I.'”—Vol. vi. pp. 205–207.
“ After a turn or iwo upon the tirrass, my Lord Next morning they go up in high spirits to he come to the edge of the slope, and looked down
Colambre quit his mother's arm for a minute, and the castle, where the villanous agent denies and through all the crowd for some one., · Is it the his promise ; and is laughing at their despair, widow O'Neill, my lord ?' says I; "she's yonder, when Lord Colambre is fortunately identified with the spectacles on her nose, betwixt her son by Mrs. Rafsarty, who turns out to be a sister and daughter, as usual.' Then my lord beckoned, of the said agent, and, like a god in epic and they did not know which of the tree would stir
and then he gave tree beckons with his own finger, poetry, turns agony into triumph!
and they all iree came fast enough to the bottom of We can make room for no more now, but the slope, forenent my lord; and he went down the epistle of Larry Brady, the good-natured and helped the widow up, (0, he's the true jantlepostboy, to his brother, giving an account of man,) and brought 'em all tree upon the tirrass, to the return of the family to Clonbrony. If my lady and Miss Nugent; and I was up close Miss Edgeworth had never written any other after, that I might hear, which wasn't manners, thing, this one letter must have placed her well know, for I could not get near enough after at the very top of our scale, as an observer of all. But I saw my lady smile very kind, and take character, and a mistress in the simple pa- the widow O'Neill by the hand, and then my Lord thetic. We give the greater part of this ex- Colambre 'troduced Grace 10 Miss Nugent, and traordinary production.
there was the word namesake, and something about
a check curtains; but whatever it was, obey was all “My dear brother,-Yours of the 16th, enclo- greatly pleased : then my Lord Colambre turned sing the five pound note for my father, came safe and looked for Brian, who had fell back, and took to hand Monday last ; and, with his ihanks and him with some commendation to my lord his father. blessing to you, he commends it to you herewith And my lord the master said, which I didn't know enclosed back again, on account of his being in no till after, that they should have their house and farm immediate necessity, nor likelihood to want in fu- at the ould rent; and at the surprise, the widow ture, as you shall hear forth with; but wants you dropped down dead; and there was a cry as for len over, with all speed, and the note will answer for berrings. Be qu'ile,' says I, 'she's only kilt for travelling charges ; for we can't enjoy the luck it joy;' and I went and list her up, for her son had has pleased God 10 give us, without yees: put the no more strength that minute than the child new rest in your pocket, and read it when you've time. born; and Grace trembled like a leaf, as white as
“Now, cock up your ears, Pat! for the great the sheet, but not long, for the mother came to, and news is coming, and the good. The master's come was as well as ever when I brought some water, home-long life to him !--and family come home which Miss Nugent handed to her with her own yesterday, all entirely! The ould lord and the hand. young lord, (ay there's the man, Paddy!) and my * That was always pretty and good,' said the lady, and Miss Nugent. And I driv Miss Nugent's widow, laying her hand upon Miss Nugent, 'and maid, that maid that was, and another; so I had kind and good to me and mine. That minule there the luck to be in it alone wid'em, and see all, from was music from below. The blind harper, O'Neill, first to last. And first, I must tell you, my young with his harp, that struck up . Gracey Nugent!' Lord Colambre remembered and noticed me the And that finished, and my Lord Colambre smiling minute he lit at our inn, and condescended to with the tears standing in his eyes too, and the ould beckon at me out of the yard to him, and axed me- lord quite wiping his, I ran to ihe tirrass brink 10 ' Friend Larry,' says he did you keep your pro- bid O'Neill play it again; but as I run, I thought mise ?'- My oaih again the whiskey is it?' says I heard a voice call Larry. I. •My Lord, I surely did,' said I; which was "Who calls Larry ?' says I. •My Lord Co. true, as all the country knows I never tasted a drop lambre calls you, Larry,' says all at once; and four since. And I'm proud to see your honour, my takes me by the shoulders, and spins me round. lord, as good as your word 100, and back again. There's my young lord calling you. Larry-run among us. So then there was a call for the horses; for your life. So I run back for my life, and walk. and no niore at that time passed betwix' my young cd respectful, with my hat in my hand, when I go! lord and me, but that he pointed me out to ihe ould near. • Put on your hal, my father desires it,' one, as I went off. I noticed and thanked him for says my Lord Colambre. The ould lord made a it in my heart, though I did not know all the good sign to that purpose, but was too full to speak. was to come of it. Well no more of myself, for Where's your father?' continues my young lord. the present.
—'He's very ould, my lord,' says 1.- I didn't ar Ogh, it's I driv 'em well; and we all got to you how ould he was,” says he ; ' but where is he?' the great gate of the park before sunset, and as - He's behind the crowd below; on account of fine an evening as ever you see; with the sun bis infirmities he couldn't walk so fast as the rest, shining on the tops of the trees, as the ladies no. my lord,' says I ; 'but his heart is with you, if noi riced ihe leaves changed, but not dropped, though his body.'— I must have his body 100: so bring so late in the sepson. I believe the leaves knew him bodily before us; and this shall be your war what they were about, and kept on, on purpose to rant for so doing,' said my lord, joking. For he welcome them; and the birds were singing; and I knows the natur of us, Paddy, and how we love a stopped whisiling, that they might hear them: but joke in our hearts, as well as if he had lived all his sorrow bit could they hear when they got to the life in Ireland; and by the same token will, for that park gate, for there was such a crowd, and such a rason, do what he pleases with us, and more may shout, as you never see-and they had the horses be than a man twice as good, that never would off every carriage entirely, and drew 'em home, with smile on us. blessings, through the park. And, God bless 'em, “But I'm telling you of my father. “I've a when they got out, they didn't go shut ihemselves warrant for you, father,' says I ; ' and must have up in the great drawing-room, but went straight out you bodily before the justice, and my lord chief to the tirrass, to satisiy the eyes and hearis that I justice.' So he changed colour a bit at first; but