streets, shops, and warehouses, inferior to Liverpool alone. O'Connell will have more difficulty in recognising his mansion at Derrinane, and its tower clock, than himself, from the picture drawn of each. The gossip about Lord Hawarden, which, he says, he picked up in the neighbourhood, and the publication of which is the amiable return made to Lord Hawarden's civility, is all untrue. Lord Powerscourt, on whom he fires off a tirade, as a certain Saint and a possible Absentee, was in 1828 about twelve years old. Some of these things are slight in themselves; but they are straws which may turn the scale when we are weighing the judgment or credit of the narrator in more serious improbabilities. In the case of Ireland, the Prince seems to be scarcely aware of any distinction, in either its government or condition, between the past and present. As at present informed, we do not believe one word of the atrocity set down to the account of Mr Baker the magistrate, and related as the provocation to his murder. We cannot credit that Roman Catholic neighbours, whether laymen or ecclesiastics, with whom the Prince describes himself to have been living, repeated to him as a fact, circumstances which the best informed Irishmen have never heard of, even as a rumour. Neither is it likely, although it is implied, that his view of the Protestant Church in Ireland is obtained from the same authority. The simple truth unfortunately in this case is all that wanted stating: the most literal representation would be more effectual than overcharging its anomalies, or than a fourfold exaggeration of its revenues.

On points of any nicety in statistics or politics, we could not venture to trust our traveller. But his prejudices, such as they are, are certainly not those of Anglomanianism. Besides, on the following, one of the first and most important points, the eye alone sees its way so far that the judgment cannot go egregiously wrong. We are glad in the opportunity of quoting his evidence and the more the people of England are aware of the fact, the better-in favour of the superior degree of comfort, which our population has almost universally attained, than is unfortunately the case in other countries. A larger mass of varied ' and manifold enjoyments may certainly be found in England, than it is possible to procure with us. Not in vain have wise insti'tutions long prevailed here. What especially soothes and glad'dens the philanthropist, is the spectacle of the superior comfort and more elevated condition in the scale of existence, universally prevailing. What with us are called luxuries are here 'looked upon as necessaries, and are diffused over all classes.' The following extract exactly coincides with the result of a

comparison lately made by M. Comte, with reference to the electoral lists of the two countries, between the number of persons in France possessed of an income of 1200 francs, and in England, of one of L.100 a-year: Nothing can be more ridiculous than the declamation of German writers concerning the poverty which reigns in England, where, according to them, there are only a few enormously rich, and crowds of extremely ' indigent. It is precisely the extraordinary number of people of competent fortune, and the ease with which the poorest can earn, not only what is strictly necessary, but even some luxuries, if he chooses to work vigorously, which make England 'independent and happy. One must not, indeed, repeat after the opposition newspapers.'

After expatiating on the enjoyments of the middling classes, (whom, in another place, he truly calls the privileged classes of the present day,) especially in England, he adds When we

reflect on this, we must confess that England, though not a 'perfect country, is a most fortunate one. We ought not, therefore, to be much offended at Englishmen, of feeling strongly the contrast between their own country and most others; they 'can never, whatever be their courtesy and kindness, get over 'the distance which separates them from foreigners. Their feel'ing of self-respect, which is perfectly just, is so powerful, that they involuntarily look upon us as an inferior race; just as we, for example, in spite of all our German heartiness, should find it difficult to fraternize with a Sandwich Islander. In some centuries we shall perhaps change places; but at present, unhappily, we are a long way from that.' So much for Germany. Now for France. He jumped back upon his half-native soil, almost with the feeling of a man escaped from a long imprisonment.' Nevertheless, the climate, the cheapness, the table, and sociability of his beloved France,' did not hinder him from acknowledging that the first contrast was little to its advantage. A confiscation of great masses of property throughout a nation among smaller proprietors, and the continual further subdivision of that property, by the abolition of the privilege of primogeniture, and by a restraint on the exercise of testamentary partiality, are not infallible rules for determining the scale of national prosperity. The whole country, and even its metropolis, certainly appear somewhat 'dead, miserable, and dirty, after the rolling torrent of business, the splendour and the neatness of England. When you look at the grotesque machine in which you are seated, you think you are transported a thousand miles in a dream. The bad roads, the miserable and dirty towns, awaken the same feeling.'

London appeared to the Prince to be the foyer of European aristocracy; whose pension-lists and sinecures ought to be the envy of the nobility of surrounding nations. Here, again, truth would answer a reformer's purpose much better than all the exaggeration in the world. We should say the same both of the Church Establishment, and of the sort of religious feeling and character most ostensibly professed in England. The room for rational improvement is so great, that any person, really master of the case, would know, that much must be lost, whilst nothing was to be gained, by running off into extravagant misrepresentations or conclusions. This applies to his observations on family prayer in a serious household, as well as his sneers upon the unedifying mummery' of the English liturgy—on the disgustingly hypocritical' weepings of four young divines at their ordination at Tuam-and on the directly inverse proportion between episcopal residence and revenues. The merit of a Bishop is not fairly measured by the number of sermons which he delivers in his cathedral; any more than is the haunting of watering-places, or the spending of fifteen thousand a-year, with as much good taste as it has pleased God to bestow upon him,' a precise description of the life of Bishop Burgess. It is some comfort to find that religion, separated from great wealth and from state-alliance, put on, in his experience of it, not only a more moral and practical, but a more charitable and amiable form. The following reproachful ejaculation, if it has the misfortune to be true, is at least much to the honour of the individual, who is reported to have made it—the Roman Catholic Dean of Cashel. Believe me, (said he,) this country is devoted to misfortune. We have scarcely such a thing as a Christian among us: Catholics and Protestants have one com'mon religion, that of hatred.' We hardly know what to make of his report of the jovial dinners and the national songs, with no pretension to sanctity,' and of the philosophical liberality of the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Cashel, and sixteen of his clergymen. Nor should we think Father L'Estrange, whom he calls the real founder of the Catholic Association, or the Agitator himself, will thank their admiring visitor for his compliments to the philosophy of their Catholicism. O'Connell's public profession of faith to the Association, is afterwards explained by him to be one of those pious tirades which, on 'the orator's rostrum, as on the tub,-on the throne, as in the puppet-show booth, are necessary claptraps.' The Prince has some descriptive talent. It is the more remarkable that he should land at Dublin without observing the beauty of the Bay. When this extraordinary oversight is

contrasted with his diffuseness upon other occasions, it is perhaps only characteristic. In the like manner, he takes no notice of the library of Trinity College, but devotes three elaborate pages to a peristrephic panorama of Navarino. His remarks on the art of landscape gardening, are among the most favourable specimens of his taste in scenery. The narrative of two night journeys in Ireland-those to Glengariff and Derrinane-must have considerable merit; for, in bits, they reminded us of Scott himself. But the real cleverness of our author lies in another line. He catches very happily the coarse outlines of personal or national physiognomy, and his dramatis personæ are grouped with considerable scenical effect-the best when they are most inclining to the burlesque. His pictures of the Bath market-of the English mail-coach joining in a fox-chase-of the French Conducteur on the journey from Paris to Londonand of the Paris showman exhibiting the death of Prince Poniatowski, are all very good in their way. The knack of hitting off most successfully features which are strongly marked, makes his Irish descriptions the most amusing to us. The fairy legend of O'Donoghue was of a higher key: accordingly, he has sadly marred it. On the other hand, although Miss Edgeworth, and the Irish novelists who have followed her, have left only the gleanings for a stranger, we looked on with great interest at the fairs at Donnybrook and Kenmare, the horse-races at Galway, and the carousals in Tipperary. The following scene, as he passed in the mail-cart between Tuam and Galway, is very characteristic.

We saw a number of labourers sitting by the road-side on heaps of stone, which they were breaking. My companion said, "Those are conquerors; their whole business is to break in pieces and destroy, and they rise on the ruins they make." Meanwhile, our driver blew his horn to announce the post, for which, as with us, every thing must make way; the tone, however, came forth with such difficulty, and sounded so piteously, that we all laughed. A pretty boy, of about twelve, looking like a personification of happiness and joy, though half-naked, was sitting on a heap of stones, hammering. He shouted with mischievous glee, and called out to the angry driver, "Oh, ho, friend, your trumpet has caught cold; it is as hoarse as my old grandmother: cure it directly with a glass of potheen, or it will die of a consumption before you reach Galway !" A loud laugh from all the labourers followed as chorus. "There," said my companion, " there you see our people,-starvation and laughter, that is their lot. Would you believe that, from the number of labourers, and the scarcity of labour, not one of these men earn enough to buy sufficient food; and yet every one of them will spare something to his priest, and if you go into his cabin, will give you half of his last potatoe, and a joke into the bargain."'

Without much help from his own bragging and self-importance, Irish ingenuity would easily manufacture the Prince of Moskwa and a natural son of Napoleon out of Prince Pückler Muskau. It is, nevertheless, a singular instance of the excitement of the autumn of 1828, and of the electrical and almost ubiquitous rapidity, with which at that period intelligence of the slightest movement was conveyed, that out of this blunder, combined with the success of a strolling invitation which he gave himself to O'Connell's country-house, rumours darkened, and the ordinary preparations for conspiracy and revolt assumed the imaginary shape of negotiations between O'Connell and the King of France. The reader must turn back and perform for himself the journey over the preceding pages, to fully understand the pleasure with which the Prince dismounted at Derrinane. A low and vulgar white house has been metamorphosed, by his enthusiasm, into a tower-clocked castle of romance. The following portrait is the result of his observations upon its

master.

The next day I had fuller opportunity of observing O'Connell. On the whole, he exceeded my expectations. He is about fifty years old, and in excellent preservation, though his youth was rather wild and riotous. His exterior is attractive, and the expression of intelligent good-nature, united with determination and prudence, which marks his countenance, is extremely winning. He has perhaps more of persuasiveness than of genuine large and lofty eloquence; and one frequently perceives too much design and manner in his words. Nevertheless, it is impossible not to follow his powerful arguments with interest, to view the martial dignity of his carriage without pleasure, or to refrain from laughing at his wit. It is very certain that he looks much more like a general of Napoleon's than a Dublin advocate. His desire for celebrity seemed to me boundless; and if he should succeed in obtaining emancipation, of which I have no doubt, his career, so far from being closed, will, I think, then only properly begin. He has received from nature an invaluable gift for a party leader, a magnificent voice, united to good lungs and a strong constitution. His understanding is sharp and quick, and his acquirements, out of his profession, not inconsiderable. His manners are winning and popular; although somewhat of the actor is perceivable in them, they do not conceal his very high opinion of himself; and are occasionally tinged by what an Englishman would call "vulgarity." Derrinane Abbey, (to which O'Connell's house is only an appendix,) stands on an adjoining island. It is to be repaired by the family, probably when some of their hopes are fulfilled.'

The malicious mischief of the allusion which closes their parting scene, appears a little out of keeping with the Prince's general compliments and prognostics. Does the Liberator accept the omen?