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molten silver. Yonder torrent is strangely beautiful. The rock from which it gusbes is dark and frowning, not even a plant springing from its sterile bed ; yet the pure water issues from it, full of light, life, and immortality, like the spirit from the Christian's clay. Dear Mrs. Cassidy loves the sea ; her husband was owner and commander of a small trading vessel ; and her happiest days were spent in coasting with bim along the Irish, English, and Welsh shores. He died in his own comfortable bome, and was quietly buried in Bannow cburch, leaving his widow (who, but for ber rich brogue, might, from her habits, have passed for an English woman) and one son, independent of the frowns or smiles of a capricious world. They had wherewithal to make them happy in their own sphere."-vol.i. pp. 3--7.

The following portrait of “ Peggy the Fisher," and the bargain scene between her and Mrs. Cassidy are hit off with much spirit; they evince close knowledge of Irish manners, and of those particular traits which constitute individuality of character. It is one of those likenesses whose peculiarity enables us to pronounce the resemblance faithful, even when the original is unknown.

“ I wish I could bring Peggy“ bodily” before you, for she is almost a nondescript. Her linsey-Woolsey gown pinned up behind, fully displayed her short scarlet petticoat, sky blue stockings and thick brogues; a green spotted kerchief tied over her cap, tben a sun-burnt, smoke-dried, flatted straw hat, and the basket of fish resting “on a wisp o' bay,” completed ber head gear. Whenever I met her in my rambles, her clear loud voice was always employed either in singing the “ Colleen Rhue," or repeating a prayer ; indeed when she was tired of the one, she always returned to the other; and stopping short the moment she saw me, she would commence with :

“ Wisha thin it's my heart baies double joy to see you this very minit. Will ye turn y’er two good looking eyes on thim beautiful fish lepping alive out o' the basket, my jewil. Och it's thimselves are fresh, and it's they 'ud be proud if ye'd jist tell us what ye'd like, and then we'd let ye bave it a dead bargain!"

Peggy was certainly the queen of maneuvering ! and thought it no“ harm in life, to make an honest pinny out o' thim that could aford it;'' but she had strong affections, keen perception, and mucb fidelity ; her ostensible trade was selling fish, but there was more in her basket than met the eye- French silks, rich laces, or some drops of smuggled brandy for choice customers; and when the farmer's wives could not pay her in cash, they paid ber in kind-neal, feathers, chickens, and even sucking-pigs, which Peggy disposed of with perfect ease; so extensive were her connections. Then she was the general match-maker, and match-breaker, of the entire county. Those who could write, confided to her their letters; those who could not, made her the messenger of sweet or bitter words, as occasion required. And to do Peggy justice, she has even refused money, ay, solid silver and gold, ra

rather than prate of love affairs; for she pitied (to use her own words,) “ she pitied the young craturs in love; well remimbering bow her own saft heart was broke many's the day ago.” Peggy lived any where--every where. There were few married or single, who either bad not needed, did not need, or might not require, Peggy the Fisher's assistance ; and the best bit and sup in the house were readily placed before her.

“Och Peggy, honey,'exclaimed Mrs. Cassidy, " is that y'erself! sure I'm glad to see ye, agra ; and what'll ye take ? ---a drop o'tay, or a trifle o' whisky to keep the could out o' y'er stomach, or may be a bit to ate; there's lasbings o' white brend, and sweet milk, and the freshest eggs ever laid."

“ Thank ye kindly, Mrs. Cassidy, ma'm; sure it's y'erself has full and plinty for a poor lone woman like myself. I'll take the laste drop in life o' whiskey—and may be ye'd take a drop o' this, ma'm dear, a little corjial I has, to keep off the water brasb,"...continued she, screwing up the corner of her left eye, and placing her basket on the table,

“ Have ye got any thing striking handsome under thim dirty sea weeds, and dawny shrimpeens, agra ?" inquired Mrs. Cassidy.

“May be I bave so, my darlint, though it's little a poor lone cratur like me can afford to do these hard times; and the custom officers, the bad villians, are grown so 'cute that there's no ho wid em now, at all, at all. There's a thing fit for Saint Patrick's mother any how,” -displaying a green shawl with red roses on it, “there's a born beauty! and such nataral flowers, the likes of it not to be met wid in a month of Sundays--there's a beauty !!!

“Sure I've the world and all o'shawls, Peggy, avourneen! und any how that's not to my fancy. What ’ud ye be axing for that sky blue silk bandkerchief ?”

“ Is it that y'er after ? it's the last I got o' the kind, and who 'ud I give a bargain to as soon as y’erself, Mrs. Cassidy, maʼm; and ye shall have it for what it cost myself, and that's chape betwixt two sisters; it's raal Frinch, the beauty! and it's wronging myself I am to give it for any sich money-dog chape, at six thirteens !"

"Och ye Tory !” exclaimed Mrs. Cassidy: six thirteens for that bit of a thing, is that the way ye want to come over a poor widow ? ye thief o' the world !” and she avoided looking at the tempting article by fixing her eyes on her knitting, and working with double speed.

“Well, mistress dear, I never thought ye'd be so out of all rason," and Peggy half folded up the handkerchief; Mrs. Cassidy knitted on, and never even glanced at it.

It's for Miss Lilly I'm thinking ye wants it; and sure there's nothing in life, would look so nate on her milk-white shkin, as a sky blue bandkerchief; and so na’m ye won't take it, and it killing chape.”

Mrs. Cassidy shook her head, “ Well, to be sure for you I would do- -so, there" (throwing it on the ta

ye

shall have it for five thirteens : and that's all as one as ruination to myself.”

ble) "

I'll tell you what, Peggy a'cushla !” and Mrs. Cassidy took off her spectacles, and looked at the kerchief attentively: “I'll tell you what; it was four thirteens ye meant, and ye meant also to give Lilly two yards o' that narrow blue ribbon for knots, that ye promised her long agone."

“ I own to the promise, as a body may say;" responded Peggy; “ I own to the promise ; but as to the four thirteens for sich as that! woman alive!" Asy, asy,

Peggy honey, no harm in life,” interrupted Mrs. Cassidy, “ take the blue rag, it's no consarn o’mine."

indeed ! but”-after a pause" it's no rag, Mrs. Cassidy, maʼm, and there's no one knows that betther nor you, that has all the wisdom in the whole counthry to y'erself; but howsomever, take it, sure I wouldn't disagree with an ould residenther, to say nothing of a countbry woman, for the vallee of a few brass fardins."

Mrs. Cassidy extracted from the depths of an almost unfathomable pocket, a long stocking, slit like a purse in the centre seam, and tied with a portion of red tape at either end. From amid sundry crown, half crown, thirteen,"

” and “

sixpinny's pieces, the exact sum was selected, paid, and the kerchief deposited in an ancient cupboard, that extended half the length of the kitchen, and frowned in all the dig. nity of Jamaica mabogany, on the chairs, settle, and deal table.

« Blue rag,

66

“ The boy and girl are out I'm thinking,' commenced Peggy, as she lit her cutty pipe, and placed herself comfortably in the chimney-corner, to enjoy the bit of gossip, or, as well bred people call it, conversation, which the ladies, aye, and the lords of the creation, so dearly love.

“ They're stept down to Connor's to bave a bit of a jig ; I'm right glad to get Lilly out, she's so quiet and gentle, and cares as little for a dance, and less by a dale nor I do!'

“ Och, ma'm dear, that's wonderful, and she 80 young, and so parfect bandsome,-and more thinks that same por me !"

“ Who thinks so, Peggy ?" inquired Mrs. Cassidy, anxiously.
“ What! ye don't know, may be ?-_Why thin I'll jist hould my tongue."

" Ye'll do no such thing, Peggy ; sure the colleen is as the sight o' my eye--as dear to my heart as my own child, wbicb, I hope she'll be one o' those days, plase God; and I tould you as good as that before now, the time, d'ye mind I bought her the greeu silk spencer ? and why not? an't I rareing her up in all my own ways ? and is’nt she o' my own blood, as a body may say? And Ned, the wild boy, that has full and plinty to keep him at home, if he'd jist mind the land a bit, and give over his sailing talk, 'ud make a fit husband for her; and thin I could make my sow), and die asy in yon little room betwixt my son and daughter. And I tell ye what, Peggy the Fisher, there's no use in any boy's casting an eye at my Lilly, for Ned's wise she shall be ; and I Maureea Cassidy say it—that was never gainsaid in a thing she took in her head, by man or mortal."

“ Very well, my dear, very well, why!”-ejaculated Peggy, as, gathering her. selt over the dying embers of the turf fire, with her elbows op her knees, sbe jogged slowly backward and forward, like the rocking motion of a cradle. They both remained silent for some time. But Mrs. Cassidy's curiosity, that unwearying feeling of woman's heart, neither slumbered nor slept; and after waiting in vain for Peggy to recommence the conversation, she could contain no longer :

“Who was talking about Lilly's beauty, Peggy ?”
“ Ob! my dear, sure every body talks of it; and why not?

Ay, but who in particular ?"
“ Och, agra! no one to say particular, that is, very particular."

“ I'll tell you wbat, my good woman,'said Mrs, Cassidy, rising from her seat, and fixing herself opposite the Fisher, “If I find out tbat you've been bearing or saying any thing, or what is more, hiding any thing from me, regarding my boy and girl, when I gets you at the other side o' the door (for I wouldn't say an indacent thing in my own house,) I'll jist civilly tell ye my mind, and ax ye to keep y'er distance, and not to be meddling and making wid what doesn't consarn ye."

Peggy knocked the ashes out of her pipe, crammed her middle finger into it to ascertain that all was safe ; and putting it into her pocket, curtsied to Mrs. Cassidy, and spoke" As to good woman! that's what I niver was called atore; and as to not hearing ! would you have me cork my ears wbin I bard Ned and Harry Connor discoorsing about the girl, and I at the other side o' the hedge? Ocb, och! to think I should iver be so put upon- but good night, good night to ye, Mistress Cassidy-cork my ears, agra! And now," she continued, as she bastily stepped over the threshold, “I'm at the other side the door, so say y'er say.”

Mrs. Cassidy was more curious than ever; and her short-lived anger vanished as Peggy withdrew.

" Stop, Peggy, don't be so hot and so hasty ; sure I spoke the word out o' the

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face, and meant no barm; come in, a-cousbla , it's but nataral I'd be fiery about thim, and they my heart's treasure.”

In three minutes they were as good friends as ever, and Peggy disclosed the secret, which, notwithstanding her apparent unwillingness, she came to the cottage to tell

We extract the following graphic sketch of a priest's residenceone of the old worthies--who, provided he had his goose, his tumbler, his ham, and leg of mutton, all duly forthcoming, gave himself little trouble about the state of his kitchen, his garden, or indeed any thing else. It is accurately touched off, thougb it rather represents what has been, than what is. A modern priest's residence is associated with clipped hedges, gardens well stocked with fruit, not omiting flowers, and substantial hagyards, without; and with carpets, and book-cases, newspapers and mahogany side-boards, pier-glasses and polemics, port and politics, within.

In the kitchen of Old Father Mike's abode the usual family were assembled ; of which Molly and Martin formed a principal part. The house stood on a bleak bill-side, exposed to the full rush of the sea blast, without a tree to shelter either dwelling, barn, or yard. On such a night its exterior presented any thing but a comfortable appearance ; it was an ill-built slated house, flanked by thatched offices, which formed a sort of triangle; at the smallest point of which, a wide gate stood, or rather bung, almost always open; to say the truth, it was only supported by one binge, the other never having been repaired since the county member's carriage frightened it to pieces, when he visited the worthy Priest, a month or two before the last general election ; although Father Mike had a thousand times di, rected Martin to get it mended, and Martin had as often replied, “ Yes, plase y'er Reverence, I'll see about it."

“ At the back of the house nearly a quarter of an acre of land was enclosed, as a garden ; but as the good Priest cared little for vegetables, and less for flowers, it was of course, overrun with luxuriant weeds, that insolently triumphed in the summer time, over the fair but dwindling rose, or timid lily, that still existed, bụt looked as if they piped and mourned at the waste around them. The inside of the dwelling was rambling and inconvenient; it bad a dark entrance-ball, or passage, a kitchen, a parlour, a cellar, on the ground-floor; while a sort of ladder stair-case led to the upper chambers. The kitchen was the general family room, the parlour being reserved for

company, and kept in tolerable order by the Priest's niece, a dark-eyed little lass of sixteen.

• Martin and Molly had resumed their seats on a black oak settle, that occupied one side of the large open chimney : Molly, of spindle-like stiffness, her lean figure and scraggy neck supporting a face “broad as a Munster potatoe," wbile ber wide mouth and long sharp teeth betokened her passion for taking and eating. Martin, whose sbaggy elf-locks clustered so thickly over a well-formed fore-head, and deepset but bright grey eyes, resembled, very much resembled, a cluricawn—that partiticularly civil, wily, sharp-sigbted, Irish fairy ; Martin Finchley was almost as little, quite as knowing, quite as clever, and by trade a brouge-maker, to which fraternity all cluricawns belong ; yet the straw peeped forth from his brogues ! Ah! but Martin was a genius, knew more of every body and every thing than any man in the county, sung a good song, told a good story, brought home the cows, fed the pigs, minded the horse, and performed many domestic offices in the Priests establishment, yet found time to learn all the news, and nurse half the children in the parish.

Molly and be had lived fifteen years with Father Mike, and bad never passed a day during that period, without quarrelling, to the great amusement of Dora Hay, the Priest's little niece, wbo was now kneeling at the other side of the fire, her wheel laid aside, carefully administering some warm milk to a lamb that had suffered much from the heavy snow. Two large dogs, a cat, and a half-grown kitten shared, also, the wide hearthstone, and enjoyed the bright cheerful light of a turf and wood fire. On an old-fashioned table, partially covered with a balf-bleached cloth, was spread the Priest's supper; a large round of salted beef, a silver pint mug, with an inscription somewhat worn by time, an unbroken cake of griddle-bread, with a “pat” of fresh butter on a wooden platter, and two old bottles, containing something much stronger than water. An antique arm-chair with an embroidered but much soiled cushion, was placed opposite the massive silver- handled knife and sork; all awaiting his Reverence's coming. From the rafters of this wildlooking apartment hung various portions of dried meat and fish, and the pig's heads, that looked ghastly enougb in the flickering light. The dresser which, as usual in Irish kitchens, extended the wbole length of the room, made a display of rich china, yellow delf, wooden noggins, dim brass, and even old but chased silver candlesticks. A long deal“ losset,” filled to overflowing with meal and flour, was (if I may use the expression) united to the wall by a heap of potatoes, on which a boy, or

runner,” was sleeping as soundly, as if he had been pillowed on down; a large herring barrel, a keg of whiskey on a stand, to “ be handy like,' and a firkin of butter, occupied the spaces along the wall of the apartment."

Our readers will perceive by the length of our extracts, that the volumes are highly pleasing : indeed, we think from the ease with which the materials are put together,—the naiveté and truth with which the outlines are filled up, that the authoress is well qualified for a work on Irish life and manners, of more general and profound interest; even allowing these “ Sketches” the praise to which they are justly entitled.

Polynesian Researches, during a residence of nearly six years in the South Sea

Islands; including descriptions of the natural history and scenery of the Islands, with remarks on the bistory, mythology, traditions, government, arts, manners, and customs of the inhabitants. By William Ellis, Missionary to the Society and Sandwich Islands, and author of the “ Tour of Hawaii,'' in two volumes.London : Fisher, Son, and Jackson, Newgate-street, 1829.

Although we have of late had in our hands sundry volumes written in support of the millennium, we are free to declare, that nothing so cogent and convincing has at all come within our cognizance, as the work to which we would at present direct our reader's attention. Mr. Ellis's book announces in a manner not to be gainsayed, that the Lord, having a great work to do in the earth, has indeed set to his holy arm to gain himself the victory, and that he is about to fulfil the promise made to his Son, that he should have the Heathen for an inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for a possession. We believe that the light of that period is fast dawning on the nations, when Satan, being bound for a thousand

years, shall no more go forth to deceive them as heretofore ;

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