vantage of ignorance and inexperience, render the Dublin carmen almost intolerable, (we speak generally) except to those who are content to endure these disadvantages for the pleasure and ease of being conveyed to any part of the city or country. But none who have enjoyed the comforts of that pleasant vehicle, a private car, will quarrel with our designating it agreeable and handsome. Almost every citizen who can afford it, (and we are sorry to add, many who can not,) keeps a car. In a future number we will give an excursion to Kingstown-but in the meantime conclude our notice with the following extract kindly furnished by a friend. "Who has not enjoyed the advantages of the jaunting car: who that has even traversed the beautiful road to Kingstown on the various vehicles so properly denominated "dislocators," which pass and repass in unremitting whirl: or who that has watched the beautiful daughters of the "green isle" borne through the streets of our extending metropolis on this handsome and commodious vehicle, that will not feel curious to know from what humble principle, it has thus risen to perfection. And in good time, have I met with Master Bush's Hibernia Curiosa: he was a careful and observant traveller, and I feel I cannot do better than amuse your readers with an extract on the above matter from his work: "They have an odd kind of machine here, which they call the NODDY; it is nothing more than an old cast off one-horse chaise or chair; with a kind of stool fixed upon the shafts just before the seat, on which the driver sits, just over the horse, and drives you from one part of the town to another, at stated rates for a set-down,' and a good set-down it is sometimes, for you are well off if you are not set down in a channel, by the breaking of the wheels, or an overset-down; nor can you see any thing before you but your nod, nod, nodding charioteer, whose situation on the shafts obliges his motion to be conformed to that of the horse, from whence I suppose they have obtained the name of the Noddy. I assure you the ease of the fare is not much consulted in the construction of these nodding vehicles. But the drollest and most diverting kind of conveyance for your genteel and ungenteel parties of pleasure is what they call here the Chaise-marine, which is nothing less or more than any common car with one horse. A simple kind of carriage constructed with a pair of wheels, or thin round blocks, of about twenty inches in diameter, an axle and two shafts, which over the axle are spread out a little wider than the sides of the horse, and framed together with cross pieces in such a manner as to be nearly in a level position for three or four feet across the axle. These simple constructions are almost the only kind of carts in common use for the carrying or moving of goods, merchandize of every kind, hay, corn, &c. through the kingdom. These are however used for parties of pleasure, when on the level part a mat is laid for the commonalty, and for the genteeler sort of people a bed is put on this, and half a dozen get on, two behind, and two on each side, and away they drive, with their feet not above six inches from the ground as they sit, on little jaunts of a few miles out of town; and they are the most sociable carriages in use, for ten or a dozen will take one of these Chaisemarines, and ride it by turns, the rate being seldom, in such cases, more than a foot pace. I assure you they are the drollest, merriest curricles you ever saw. We were infinitely diverted at meeting many of these feather bed chaise-marine parties on the Sunday we landed coming out of town, as we went up to it from Dunleary.' Such was the jaunting car of Ireland in 1764, and could the honest gentleman to whom we are indebted for this description "revisit the glimpses of the moon," and see the vehicle of 1832, how great would be his praises and surprise. I shall take an early opportunity of returning to his pages, from whence I have no fear of being enabled to extract much that will be found agreeable, useful, and entertaining." PRACTICAL ADVICE TO IRISHMEN. We are sure that our friends will not despise a little advice; and we therefore wish to call their attention to a few things not unworthy the observation of rational men. One grand objection, until of late, to Irishmen, was their want of business habits. It is owing to this that the English have imbibed the idea that nothing good can come out of Ireland, and it is owing too to this that our shops and our warehouses are filled with Scotchmen. We do not mention this for the sake of invidious comparison; all we mean by it is, that Irishmen may be stimulated to rival them in what is assuredly merely an educational habit. To our young men we would say, never undervalue your situation. Whatever it may be, fulfil its duties well; and if you think it unworthy of your abilities, the surest way to get a better, is to deserve it. Never let a horse-race, a review, or a regatta, draw you from your business at unseasonable times. Value it more than any thing else; be assiduous, attentive, and painstaking; and when you do take a day of pleasure (for who with any spark of feeling could bear to be shut up perpetually in town?) let that day be such as will not interfere with your more important duties. Endeavour to acquire solid, useful substantial knowledge. Unfortunately for poor Ireland, though her children are apt, inquisitive, acute and intelligent, yet their faculties have never been rightly directed. There are three senses in which the people of the three kingdoms may be termed knowing. The English are knowing, so far as regards their comfort, and the promotion of it; the Scotch are knowiny, as far as regards that careful attention to interest which secures their situations, and the means of keeping them; but Paddy, poor Paddy, though he can give a wittier reply, a shrewder observation, a more humourous retort, and is therefore more intellectually knowing than either English or Scotch, fails in the grand points of knowingness as to comfort and interest. It is a positive fact that the tone of an Irish Penny Journal must be more elevated than an English one, because the lower classes of the Irish are more intelligent than the English. At the same time the Irish have not acquired that PATIENT HABIT of reading which characterizes the Scotch. We say habit; for it is owing to education. Let our friends then endeavour to diffuse around them a taste for wholesome manly reading. Let them endeavour to diffuse knowledge, and to guide the demand for it; let them encourage it in their children and relatives; and Ireland will soon present a cheering scene. THE BARDS OF IRELAND. IRELAND is doubtless preparing to rouse herself from the lethargy of ages, and to snap asunder the bonds which have hitherto bound her. A voice is issuing from within the neglected halls of her literature, which seems to say to her intellect and her genius, Sleep no more!" Ere long, we trust, she will hold up her head among the nations, and bear away the prize in the strife of generous emulation. May the blessed GOD grant that these hopes will be realized! The ancient Irish possessed ample stores in their native language, capable of captivating the fancy, enlarging the understanding, and improving the heart. Our country, from an early period, was famous for the cultivation of the kindred arts of poetry and music. Lugad, the son of Ith, is called in old writings, "the first poet of Ireland," and there still remains, after a lapse of three thousand years, fragments of his poetry. After him, but before the Christian era, flourished Royne File, or the poetic, and Ferceirte, a bard and herald. Lugar and Congal lived about the time of our REDEEMER, and many of their works are extant. The Dinn Seanchas, or history of noted places in Ireland, compiled by Amergin Mac Amalgaid, in the year 544, relates that in the time of Geide, monarch of Ireland, "the people deemed each other's voices sweeter than the warblings of a melodious harp, such peace and concord reigned among them, that no music could delight them more than the sound of each other's voice: Temur (Tarah) was so called from its celebrity for melody, above the palaces of the world. Tea, or Te, signifying melody, or sweet music, and mur a wall. Te-mur, the wall of music." This extract contains the earliest allusion to the harp, which Mr. Hardiman has met with. There is an ancient Gaelic poem which used to be sung in the Highlands of Scotland, in which the poet addresses a very old harp, and asks what has become of its former lustre. The harp replies, that it had belonged to a king of Ireland, and had been present at many a royal banquet; and had afterwards been in the possession of Dargo, son of the Druid of Baal-of Gaulof Filan, &c. &c. Such are a few facts regarding the Bards of Ireland before the inhabitants were converted to the profession of the Christian faith. The introduction of Christianity gave a new and more exalted direction to the powers of poetry. Among the numerous bards who dedicated their talents to the praises of the DEITY, the most distinguished are Feich, the bishop: Amergin, Cinfaela, the learned, who revised the Uraicepht, or "Primer of the bards," preserved in the book of Balimote, and in the library of Trinity College, Dublin; and many others, the mention of whose names might be tedious. Pasing by many illustrious bards, whose poetic fragments are still preserved, we may mention Mac Liag, secretary and biographer of the famous monarch, Brian Boro, and whose poems on the death of his royal master are given in Mr. Hardiman's "Irish Minstrelsy." For two centuries after the invasion of Henry II. the voice of the muse was but feebly heard in Ireland. The bards fell with their country, and like the captive Israelites hung their untuned harps on the willows. They might exclaim with the royal psalmist, "Now while our harps were hanged soe, The men, whose captives then we lay, And more to grieve us thus did say, But the spirit of patriotism at length aroused the bards from Turlogh O'Carolan was born about the year 1670, at a place called Newton, near Nobber, in the county of Meath. Though gifted with a natural genius for music and poetry, he evinced no precocious disposition for either. He became a minstrel by accident, and continued it more through choice than necessity. Respectably descended, possessing no small share of Milesian pride, and entertaining a due sense of his additional claims as a man of genius, he was above playing for hire, and always expected, and invariably received, that attention which he deserved. His visits were regarded as favours conferred, and his departure never failed to occasion regret. In his eighteenth year he was deprived of sight by the small-pox; and this apparently severe calamity was the beginning of his career as one of the principal bards of Ireland. Near his father's house was a mote or rath, in the interior of which one of the fairy queens, or "good people," was believed by the country folks to hold her court. This mote was the scene of many a boyish pastime with his youthful companions; and after he became blind, he used to prevail on some of his family or neighbours to lead him to it, where he would remain for hours together stretched listlessly before the sun. He was often observed to start up suddenly, as if in a fit of ecstacy, occasioned, as it was firmly believed, by the preternatural sights which he witnessed. In one of these raptures, he called hastily on his companious to lead him home, and when he reached it, he sat down immediately to his harp, and in a little time played and sung the air and words of a sweet song addressed to Bridget Cruise, the object of his earliest and tenderest attachment. So sudden and so captivating was it, that it was confidently attributed to fairy inspiration, and to this day the place is pointed out from which he desired to be led home. From that hour he became a poet and a musician. Though Carolan passed a wandering and restless life, there is nothing on which we can lay our finger as very extraordi nary or singular. He seldom stirred out of the province of Connaught, where he was such a universal favorite, that messengers were continually after him, inviting him to one or other of the houses of the principal inhabitants, his presence being regarded as an honour and a compliment. The number of his musical pieces, to almost all of which he composed verses, is said to have exceeded two hundred. But though he was such a master of his native language, he was but indifferently acquainted with the English, of which we will give the reader a specimen, reminding him, however, that though it may appear ludicrous to him, it is the composition of a man not unworthy of ranking with some of the first poets of the past or present age. A young lady, of the name of Featherstone, who did not understand Irish, being anxious to have some verses to his own fine air, the "Devotion," he gave her the following: "On a fine Sunday morning devoted to be I met a fresh rose on the road by decree, And though mass was my notion, my devotion was she. Welcome, bright angel of noble degree, I wish you would love, and that I were with thee; I pray don't frown at me with mouth or with eye, So I told the fair maiden with heart full of glee, Although Carolan delivered himself but indifferently in English, he did not like to be corrected for his solecisms. A self-sufficient gentleman of the name of O'Dowd, or Dudy, as it is sometimes pronounced, once asked him why he attempted a language of which he knew nothing. "I know a little of it," Carolan replied. "If so," says the other, "what is the English for Bundoon, (a facetious Irish term for the seat of honour,) "Oh," said the bard, with an arch smile, "I think the properest English for Bundoon is Billy Dudy!" The gentleman was ever after known by the name of Bundoon Dudy. Carolan died in the year 1737, at Alderford, the house of his old and never-failing patroness, Mrs. McDermott. Feeling his end approaching, he called for his harp, and played his well known "Farewell to Music," in a strain of tenderness which drew tears from the eyes of his auditory. His last moments were spent in prayer, until he calmly breathed his last, at the age of about sixty seven years. Upwards of sixty clergymen of different denominations, a number of gentlemen from the neighbouring counties, and a vast con * Moore in his life of Byron, remarks that the noble poet would lie for hours together on the sea-shore in a kind of ecstacy. course of country people, assembled to pay the last mark of respect to their favourite bard, one whose death has caused a chasm in the bardic annals of Ireland. But he lives in his own deathless strains; and while the charms of melody hold their sway over the human heart, the name of CAROLAN will be remembered and revered. In an early number we will give the life of THOMAS FURLONG, the gifted translator of Carolan's remains, and of other ancient relics. We conclude our present article with the following translation of a humorous reply which Carolan made to a gentleman who was pressing him to prolong his stay at his house : "If to a friend's house thou shouldst repair IRISH MANUFACTURES. The WOOLEN MANUFACTURE of Ireland was very early celebrated. In the time of Edward III. in 1327, Irish frizes were freely imported into England from Dublin, duty free. Even in Italy, in the year 1357, at a time when the woollens of that country had attained an high degree of perfection, and sumptuary laws were enacted to restrain luxury in dress, Irish serges were in demand, and imported. In the year 1482, not only serges, but other kinds of woollens, were so sought after, and the fashion of the country so approved, that the Pope's agent obtained from Richard II. a licence to export, duty free, mantles made of Irish cloth. In the year 1673, Sir W. Temple, at the request of Lord Essex, then Vicery of Ireland, published a formal overture for relinquishing the woollen trade, except in the lower branches, that it might not interfere with that of England, urging the superior fitness of this country for the linen trade. Immediately after the cessation of the disturbances in Ireland, in 1688, the woollen manufacture was established to a considerable extent in the Liberties of Dublin. The security of property ensured after the capitulation of Limerick, induced a number of English manufacturers to avail themselves of its local advantages, the cheapness of labour, the excellence of wool, and the abundance of the necessaries of life, and to settle here. The Coombe, Pimlico, Spitalfields, and the Weavers'-square were then built, and soon became the residence of all that was opulent and respectable in the city. What a contrast the Liberty now presents! The SILK MANUFACTURE is generally supposed to have been introduced by the French refugees, and established in the Liberty of Dublin shortly after their residence in this city. In the year 1764, an act was passed, placing it under the direction of the Dublin Society. To encourage the manufacture, the Society immediately established an Irish Silk warehouse in Parliament street, and the management of it was placed under the superintendence of persons, annually returned by the corporation of weavers, to examine the quality of the goods sent in by Manufacturers, to whom the Dublin Society paid a premium or discount of five per cent on all sales made in the house. While the trade was thus managed, the sales were on an average £70,000 per annum, and the silk manufacture in Dublin arrived at the highest state of prosperity. But this source of encouragement was done away by an act of parliament, by which the Dublin Society was prohibited from disposing of any part of its funds for the support of any house in which Irish silk goods were sold by wholesale or retail. From that time, the Irish Silk warehouse declined. It does not enter within our scope to point out what might be done for the revival of IRISH MANUFACTURES; we merely mention facts, and indulge in the hope that Ireland will not always be miserable. A gleam of hope dawns upon our country-may that good BEING who delights in the happiness of his creatures, unite all hearts, and "knit them to together" in the bonds of a holy brotherhood. A great many people never think when they are reading: they just run over the words and thus go over a volume without any impression being left on the mind. Yet some of these people would laugh at the man who borrowed a dictionary from a neighbour, believing it to be a novel or a romance, and after patiently reading it, said, "this is the strangest author I ever met with; he never writes three lines on the same subject!" EMIGRATION. We freely confess that we are opposed to Emigration. We think that Ireland is perfectly able to support, not only her present population, but a vast deal more, if her capabilities were properly developed. This, however, is not in the power of the individual; and he naturally anxious to better his condition, and looking to the unsettled state of the country, casts his eye across the Atlantic for a settlement in the midst of Canadian forests, far away from the home of his forefathers. Now in revolving the matter of Emigration, the following circumstances should be considered. 1st. Can you, or can you not, earn a livelihood sufficient to maintain yourself and your family in your native country? If you can, PAUSE before you decide on going. It is a serious thing to leave country, friends, home, every thing near and dear in kith, kin, and recollection, FOR EVER. Do not let flattering accounts deceive you; do not be led away with the flattering idea of possessing a fee simple estate, on which you can grow your own maple sugar, and make your own delicious peach brandy: think upon the forest, and its gigantic trees: think upon the toil, the incessant toil, requisite to clear your acres, and that your own physical strength will be the means alone of doing it; and if your body is weakened by low living, the consequence of scarcity both of money and provisions, think upon the days of fatigue, and nights of exhaustion; think upon the difficulty of supporting a family during the first winter, in the midst of a thick wood, your rude log house, your rude furniture, the intensity of the cold and the snow in winter, and the intensity of the heat and the musquitoes in summer; if you have just as much money as will land you in Montreal or Quebec, think upon wandering through their streets, the victim of want of employment, and exposed to all its horrors in a strange place; or if you reach the woods, think upon ague, marsh fever, and malaria; think upon bad roads, or no roads, bad provisions, or no provisions, the difficulty of disposing of your crop when you raise one, the possible danger (for it is possible, and very possible too) of bears destroying your cattle, if you have any, of the racoons and squirrels (of which there are plenty,) destroying your corn crops, and of rats and mice eating the seed of your Indian corn after it is in the ground: think upon these and more than these, before you resolve on going; and if you can earn a livelihood at home, the probability is, that you will stay where you are. 2d. But on the other hand, if you are determined on going, and are prepared to look danger, and toil, and privation straight in the face, and your wife and children are prepared to accompany you, and share your privations, and partake of your fatigues, and if you possess as much money as will not merely pay your passage over, but carry you into the woods, and enable you to bring provisions with you on which you can live for a time, the following are some of the advantages which may be derived from Emigration:-Employment, incessant employment you will be sure to have: but if you are an industrious man, constant employment will bestow vigour on the frame, (if you have something with you to eat, for there are no shops or provision stores in a forest,) and also bring contentment to the mind. If you hire yourself out as a labourer, you will get about 2s. 6d. a day, and as a skilful mechanic, sometimes as high as 5s. with victuals; if you work on your own land, the soil being naturally new and fresh, will give a good return for the labour bestowed upon it. Besides the ordinary grain, you can grow maize, garden vegetable produce, and fruit of all kinds luxuriantly. You can make your own malt, brew your own beer, make your own candles and sugar; raise your own tobacco, and tan your own leather, without dread of being exchequered. Your taxes will be light; while the mind is soothed by the reflection, that every day and month and year of toil and pri vation is but laying the foundation of future ample provision for the family. These considerations must weigh strongly with any sensible, virtuous man; and if any of the readers of our Journal are thinking of emigrating, we would just say to them, "Look upon this picture and look upon that;" revolve both advantages and disadvantages; and once you resolve to Go, let your resolution be put in practice with prudence and manly vigour of mind; but if you shrink from the toils and privations of clearing an estate in the Canadian forest, and can live at home, we beseech you stay at home! Having taken the liberty of giving these few hints on Emigration, we think we may give an interesting scene from Captain Hall's very amusing "Travels in North America," published in 1829. He visited, in the month of July 1827, the settlement formed by the Irish emigrants who were sent to Canada at the expense of Government in 1825. There were 2024 settlers sent out, at the total cost of £21 58. 4d. per head, each family being supplied with provisions for fifteen months, and a hundred acres of land, besides a cow, and other minor aids. They were selected generally as being the most destitute, and incapable of providing for themselves or their families in their own country. Captain Hall entered into conversation with a shrewd old emigrantbut the man took the alarm at his numerous questions, and the agent of the settlement, who accompanied Captain H. begged him, as a favour to tell him how he was getting on. "What shall I say to the gentleman ?" inquired Cornelius. Why, Cornelius, tell the truth." "Sure I always do that! But if I knew what the gentleman wanted, I would know what to answer!" "Well, then, Cornelius," said the Captain, "would you like to be set down in Ireland, just as you were before you came away ?" "I WOULD, Sir!" "Then why do you stay here?" it's the boys." "Och, the boys, Sir "What boys, Cornelius ?" "Och, my boys, my two sons, like this counthry very well; they have chopped twenty acres of land, and we have got crops of wheat and oats, and Indian corn, and potatoes, and some turnips-all coming up, and ready to cut-and the boys like their independence. Its a fine counthry, Sir, for a poor man, if he be industrious: and if it wer'nt for the ague, a good counthry, and a rich one, too; though to be sure, its rather out of the way-the roads are very bad, and the winther very cowld; yet there is always plenty to eat, and sure employment, and good pay for them that like to work." Captain Hall then remarked that he was in a very good way, and ought to be grateful to them that sent him out, when he exclaimed, "for all that, I might have done very well in Ireland !" Why the plague, then, did you come out here ?" "Och, Sir," said Cornelius laughing, "the boys, the poor boys, Sir. Their mother-may she rest in pace-I buried her long ago, and I said I would never put another woman over them. So you see, Sir, the boys would go, and I would'nt part them, and we all came out, and if it wer'nt for the ague and the bad roads, and the hard work, we would be happy all the day long!" We think this gives a tolerable fair picture of what emigration is, and what Cornelius's countrymen may expect when they go to Canada. If they put up with the ague, bad roads, and hard work, they may in course of time render themselves independent. THE DEAD TRUMPETER. WAKE, soldier!-wake !-thy war-horse waits, Thy plume is trailing in the dust, Sleep, soldier!-sleep! thy warfare o'er,--- Thou need'st not helm nor curiass now, Thy mother is not in thy dreams, In our first number we took the liberty of giving story from Lover's Legends, with a notice of the book, which to our certain knowledge induced more than one individual to inquire after it; in our second and third numbers we have presented an abridgment of the "Landlord and Tenant;" and for both of these high and mighty offences we have been persecuted by a species of petty annoyance, and "the Law," is hung over us, like the sword of Damocles threatening to nip asunder the slender thread of our Penny existence! "One man may steal a horse, when another dare not look over the hedge;" so saith the proverb, and so we have reason to believe. But the crime laid to our charge is-selling for a Penny what cost some people Pounds, and thus living at free terms on the expenses and anxieties of others. We deny it, and say that not one in five thousand readers of our Journal would ever have known of the existence of such productions but for our little Pennyworth. It has been too much the case in this country, that when a spirited literary speculation was set a-going, jealousy has closed upon it, and endeavoured to "trip it up." Yet all the while, they "manage these things better," in England-whole stories from the same book of Legends are extracted by "Storytellers with Embossed Heads," and our very diligent and very active friend, Mr. Chambers, does not scruple to help himself to a slice of the same pudding; and when the "National Magazine" was in existence, the only regret of those who wished it success was, that so few extracts were taken. The secret lies in this-our Journal is successful. We freely acknowledge the right of literary men to their property, and would be sorry to be guilty of piracy: but if what we have done be piracy, then every newspaper in the three kingdoms, every periodical paper in existence, every literary, scientific, or political Review or Magazine is guilty of perpetual, incessant, and audacious piracy. If we are in error, it is in good company; but we are trifling with our readers. We would not take up the matter so seriously, were it not for the odious imputations of parties concerned. It would be gross ingratitude not to acknowledge that there are some friends whose kind attentions more than counterbalance the annoyance we have received. We cannot take the liberty of publicly mentioning their names; but we can state that Mr. PETRIE-with all the ready kindness of a man and a gentleman-no sooner knew that we were rather at a loss for a sketch to enable us to give a wood-cut along with the article on Carlingford, (which is to appear in our next,) than he instantly and voluntarily supplied the want. We take this opportunity of telling those who have been so very thoughtless as to send communications by the penny post, that they ought to recollect that we give eight pages for what they severally make us pay for little scraps of papera penny. One gentleman sent some valuable old papers, and sent them free too-another gave some valuable books and old MSS. relative to Ireland, from which to make extracts. It is not little trifles in prose and verse we want. Lastly, to those who complain of our Journal being exclusively Irish, we say, Ireland is our peculiar province-there are abundance of cheap publications for general literature, and we would not interfere with any of them. The continuation of the History of Dublin is in type, and visits to the Botanic Gardens, to the Dublin Society House, and other interesting articles are preparing. We sincerely trust that we will not have occasion, in future, to take up so much or any part of our limited space in mere gossip. But we have been driven, in self-vindication to let the public know the circumstances given above, and to leave them to judge whether we are literary pirates or public benefactors. DUBLIN: Printed and Published by JOHN S. FOLDS, 5, Bachelor's Walk. Sold by all Booksellers in Ireland. In Liverpool by Willmer and Smith; in Manchester by Wheeler; in Birmingham by Drake; in Nottingham by Wright; in Edinburgh by R. Grant and Son; in Glasgow by John Niven, Jun. and in Loudon by Joseph Robins, Fleet-st. THE CARLINGFORD Carlingford Castle, County Louth, We think our wood-cut well calculated to catch the eye of a Dublinian. For lives there man, woman or child, in our good city, that has not heard of Carlingford, though but few have seen it. Carlingford-so renowned for its delicious oysters oysters known as well to the poor mendicant who is tasked to crush their shells, as to the rich merchant who gobbles down their delicious insides oysters as far superior to every other testaceous creature that open its bivalve to the tide, as to an Englishman is plum-pudding when compared with flummery-oysters, that give luxurious suppers to man, and open his heart as the knife opens the shell! In vain may the Parisian boast of his Carcale, the Londoner of his Colchester, or even our western shores of their green-finned Burrin, exquisite Pooldoody, or delicious Lisadill-who dare compare them to a rale Carlingford? Ye Aldermen of Dublin, and all who have experienced night after night the indescribable delights of a feast of oysters, and a flow of punch, come and give us all due credit for presenting you with a picture of that dear spot from whence your delights do come, and for giving "a local habitation and a name" to the birth-place of what your souls desire! But Carlingford is not only worthy of regard as contributing to our creature-comforts, and causing us to rejoice both at snack and supper, but it is also noted for its scenic beauties and recollections. In all Ireland there is not (oh! we beg pardon, there is at Glengariff,) a bay so beautiful as Carlingford. Reader, if you were sitting on a fine soft sunny evening on one of the towers of that ancient castle built by King John, and looking westward and northward, you would enjoy a prospect which, if you pretended to taste, would cause you to cry out, "Magnificent," but if you really possessed it, would make you hold your tongue, and be all eyes. Under you the noble land-locked bay-before you and a few miles across the water, a distance which owing to the translucency of the atmosphere peculiar to the western wind, is only calsulated to make objects more softly picturesque-yes-before you is the loveliest village in Ireland-Rostrevor. Its cottages embosomed in trees, its sun-lit villas, its pretty church, its obe lisk, the honoured cenotaph of a brave soldier, who fell in his country's cause, leading Irishmen to victory. Then above the village, the wood-covered hills, swelling upwards until the green slopes mingle in the dark gorges of the Mourne mountains, over which Slieve Donald rises as lord of the range in pyramidal majesty. The western sun is gilding its crest; a feathery cloud all on fire with the sun's rays has rested on its topmost peak, and turbanned it with glory. Eastward, the mountain masses of shade flung upon the sleeping sea! Oh! for such a splendid scene, happy season, and felicitous atmosphere, it would almost be well to be a Carlingford fisherman or even a Carlingford oyster, provided that as an oyster one could see through the sea and be susceptible of the picturesque, without the consciousness of being liable to be dredged for and gobbled up by voracious Dublinians. But Carlingford is not alone remarkable for its oysters and its scenery, it is also worthy of an Irishman's regard, as the retreat, and its mountain country the fastness of the notorious Redmond O'Hanlon, the far-famed Rapparee, who about 120 years ago, played the part of Rob Roy in Ireland. The Irish gatherer of black-rent was quite a match for the Scotch rogue; as valiant in fight, as expert in flight, as terrible to the oppresser, as generous to the oppressed, as the Caledonian Kiltander. But poor Ireland has not got a Sir Walter Scott to cast a halo of renown about his name-"vate caret." She wants a poet to immortalize a cow stealer; and poor Redmond sleeps without his glory! Alas, that notable record of his exploits is out of print the History of the Irish Rogues and Rapparees. Worthy Mr. Cross of Cook-street is now no more, a coffin maker occupies the shop where, in days gone by, we used to purchase these admirable effusions of the Irish press "The Life of Captain James Freney, the Robber," " Laugh and be Fat," "The History of Moll Flanders," but above all, the most spirit-stirring, the one best calculated to teach the young Hibernian idea how to shoot in rale earnest, the "Irish Rogues and Rapparees," a book which has had as great an effect in Ireland as Schiller's play of the Robbers in Germany, namely, leading many a bold youth to take freedoms with others too often tending to the abridgment of his own-but we are rambling: we beg leave to drop our sportive strain, and introduce the "Annals of Carlingford," furnished by a |