first Duke of Richmond; (these two latter pictures were presents from the Duchess to Mrs. Wogan, of Rathcoffy, from whom they were inherited by Colonel Talbot;) one of King Charles I. dancing with the Infanta of Spain at the Escurial, &c.

front. The deinesne and gardens are disposed with much correctness of taste, and the former is enriched with some venerable trunks and groups of plantations.

J. D.

Beside the castle is the little chapel, the above interesting view of which has drawn my attention to this locality. "The form it presents," says Mr. Bell, in his prize essay on Irish architecture, "is that of a nave and chancel, or choir, divided from each other by a spacious gothic arch, about the centre of the building. What remains of the east window is composed of mullions and other divisions of tracery of the perpendicular style in architecture. Adjoining the chancel is a pointed arch door, leading to some apartments which were either occupied as a vestry, or for the residence of the monks of the abbey. The western end supports the belfry, which is thickly covered over with ivy. The external parts of the building are not altogether without ornament. The canopies or drip-stones of the arches are well cut, and owing to the hardness of the black stone or calp with which this church was constructed, they preserve to

[From Original MS. Collections.] MALAHIDE.

THE village of Malahide is in the barony of Coolock, and county of Dublin, six and a half miles from the metropolis. It is well built and pleasantly situated, on an inlet of the Irish sea, but being without shelter and in an open country is much exposed to the influence of the winds; the air, however, though keen is very pure.

In the middle of the town is a well of very clear and wholesome water, dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, and covered with an arched inclosure.

The parish in which this village is situated bears the same name, and is a curacy in the arch-diocese of Dublin. It was from a very remote period held jointly with those of Killough and Killossory, and the vicarage of Swords, and so episcopally united in 1810. That union has, however, been since dissolved, and this curacy is now conferred separately; the patronage being in the dean and chapter of St. Patrick's. It comprises but two townlands and six hundred and six acres; and, according to the Parliamentary return of 1821, 211 inhabited houses, 226 families, and a total population of 1127 souls. The tithes payable to the incumbent have been compounded for at £110 15s. 4d., and the parish is not tributary to the first fruits' fund.

Malahide is a lordship or manor, having courts leet or baron, and the town and lands of Feltrim, Hamonstown, Balvenstown, &c. are held as dependencies thereof. The royalties extend a considerable distance along the sea shore.

Near the town is the castle, or as it is usually styled, the court of Malahide, the seat of the Talbot family. This building is large, irregular, and unequal in its height, nearly square in its outer form, and has an area or court within. The situation is lofty, founded on a limestone rock, and it commands a fine view of the town and bay of Malahide. The hall is spacious, and presents all the features of antiquity. Indeed, the foundation of this structure is commonly referred to the reign of the Second Henry, but it received considerable repairs and additions in that of Edward IV. A fine porch has been constructed as the principal entrance, under the direction of the present proprietor, and the building considerably improved thereby, in regard both to external ornament and internal convenience. There are ten rooms on a floor. The lower story, consisting of servants' offices, &c. is vaulted, and entered by a low gothic doorway, while the rooms above are approached by spiral stone stairs, leading into a striking gothic apartment, lighted by a pointed window of stained glass. The wainscotting of this room is of Irish oak, that has now acquired the sombre tint of ebony, and is divided into compartments, ornamented with sculpture from Scriptural history. Adjoining this room is the saloon, a spacious handsome apartment, containing some good paintings, particularly a valuable little picture, once an altar piece, belonging to Mary Queen of Scots, which represents the nativity, adoration, and circumcision, and was painted by Albert Durer; a portrait of the Duchess of Portsmouth, mistress of Charles II., fondling a contented dove; another of her son, the

Beneath the belfry there is another handsome gothic window, divided into two lights, with crocketted ogee canopies, though greatly mutilated. The walls had originally embattled parapets. The interior is strikingly shaded with venerable chesnut trees, that in their season of foliage cast a still more sombre interest over the monuments they shadow. Of the latter the most worthy of notice is an altar tomb surmounted with the effigy, in bold relief, of a female habited in the costume of the 15th century, and representing the Honourable Maud Plunket, wife of Sir Richard Talbot. She had been previously married to Mr. Hussey, son to the Baron of Galtrim, who was slain on the day of her nuptials, leaving her the singular celebrity of having been "A maid, wife and widow on the same day." There are other monuments of the Talbot and Henley families scattered through the enclosure.

In the parish are limestone quarries of black, grey and yellow hues, and on the south side of the high lands contiguous to the sea lead ore has been discovered; while the face of the strand is covered with an abundance of interesting shells.

Having, Sirs, conceded thus much to your wish of conferring upon my report of present statistics, (interwoven as it is with that of Brewer,) the immortality of your stereotyped pages, you must now permit me to mount my own hobby, and disport myself with such reminiscences of bye-gone days as an amble round this little parish can recall.

1174, It is supposed that Richard Talbot having accompanied King Henry the Second to Ireland, obtained in this year a grant of Malahide, part of which (Malahide-beg) he soon after leased to the monks of Mary's-Abbey, and his son Reginald confirmed the demise.

1286, Adam de Talbot obtained a confirmation of the aforesaid district-I would not call it a grant least it should prejudice the century, I have conceded to popular tradition in my former paragraph.

1300, Richard Talbot, the son of said Adam, contributed twenty shillings as his subsidy for Malahide, towards the expenses of the Scottish war.

1311, There are records of stubborn lawsuits at this period, between the grandson of the last-mentioned Richard, and another Richard Talbot, of Feltrim and Castletown-Dalkey, for the manor of Malahide, in which the former was, after a due course of litigation ruinously successful.

1334, The wardship of Malahide being vested in the crown, according to the oppressive usage of the feudal prerogative, during the ministry of Richard Talbot's heir, was granted at a certain nominal rent to one of the minions of the day, who, in this year, obtained an almost total discharge of his responsibility, by reason that he had lost a horse in the king's service, in accompanying Anthony de Lacy, Lord Justice, to the assault of Arklow, and the subjugation of the O'Byrnes.

1375, The surveyors of the harbour of Malahide were instructed to prevent the unlicensed exportation of corn thence, and also to prevent any of the retinue of the chief governor, William de Windsor, from absenting themselves from Ireland, through that harbour, under the penalty of forfeiting their horses arms, and baggage.

1408, The king being seised as before in right of a minority, granted two-thirds of the manor of Malahide to Sir Thomas Fleming, the other third being in the hands of the Dowress. 1434, A grant of the same nature was made under similar circumstances.

Such was the political injustice, by which, in those days, the Royal Exchequer was fed by the spoliation of the orphan, and

the ward!

1475, The editor of Camden will have it that it was not until this time that Malahide was erected into a manor, and free warren, and that therefore the bust of Edward IV. was reverentially placed over the castle gate. I have, however, shewn the manor to be of far higher antiquity; but there was a grant in this year, by that monarch to Thomas Talbot, by which, in addition to his former privileges of receiving customs. holding courts leet, and baron, &c. said Thomas was appointed high admiral of the seas, with full power and authority to hear and determine, in a court of admiralty, all trespasses, &c. by the tenants or vassals, or other residents, within the town of Malahide.

1488, Sir Richard Edgecombe landed at Malahide, "and there a gentlewoman called Talbot, received him and made him right good cheer; and the same day at afternoon the bishop of Meath and others came to Malahide aforesaid, well accompanied, and fetched the said Sir Richard to Dublin, and at his coming thither the mayor and substance of the city received him at the Black Friars' Gate, at which Black Friars (the site of the present Four Courts) the said Sir Richard was lodged."

1524, Sir Peter Talbot was fined for suffering merchant vessels to break bulk at Malahide, contrary to the king's privileges, granted to the city of Dublin.

1530, Malahide is enumerated in the Repertorium Viride, of the unfortunate Alan, archbishop of Dublin, as one of the exterior chapels dependant on Swords.

1547, There is an important inquisition of this date, concerning the tithes of Malahide; it finds that they issue from the lands called "the Courte de Malahyd" and Balregan, and are worth, together with the tithe of fish and alterages, £11 6s. 8d. per annum, besides half the oblations at funerals which belong to the vicar of Swords; the stipend of the curate and repairing of the chancel being defrayed by the farmer of the tithes.

1570, Malahide is about this time enumerated by Holinshed as one of the chief haven towns of Ireland.

1649, Thomas Talbot having, in the wars of 1641, embraced that side to which misguided loyalty, and ill-requited enthusiasm had hurried the gallant and respectable gentry of Ireland, shared with them the ruinous consequences of one national attainder. He was outlawed, and his castle of Malahide with five hundred acres of land, was, about this year, granted to Miles Corbet, the regicide, soon after which, it is believed that Oliver Cromwell took up his abode for a short time here. Corbet held it for about seven years, and, according to tradition, it was during his occupation that the chapel above sketched was unroofed for the profane purpose of covering a barn with the materials. "From this port, Corbet, when outlawed at the period of the restoration, took shipping for the Continent, and subsequently expiated his 'errors,' as Mr. Brewer mildly terms them, by a degrading death. Shortly after his flight from Malahide the Talbot family regained possession of the estate."

1677, Peter Talbot was arrested at Malahide on suspicion of being concerned in what was termed "The Popish plot." Nothing was found in his papers to justify the accusation, and his state of health for two years previous made it impossible that he could have been concerned in any public proceedings. He was confined in the castle of Dublin.

1783, A cotton manufacture having been established here by the late Colonel Talbot, and a large mill erected where cotton was spun by the action of water, the Irish Parliament in this year voted £2000 towards completing his machinery.

had been previously enabled to do, and with the right of similar duties and tolls, &c. &c.

The auspicious expectations which those projects induced, were, however, too soon disappointed, and the consequent failure of the cotton trade here, as also at Balbriggen and Prosperous, led to the most deplorable consequences. Parliament had liberally contributed to the expenses of the projectors and proprietors of those works at their outset, but refusing a second grant these persons became insolvent, and crowds of artizans being suddenly dismissed from their employment, the various families who, "a little month" previously, had exhibited a picture of regular and thriving industry, were devoted to penury and unwelcome idleness.

1814, The board of first fruits granted £800 in aid of building a church here.

"Seated on a rock, close to the sea shore, in this neighbourhood, is the small and gloomy castle of Rob's Wall, or Roebuck's Wall, founded in the 15th or early in the 16th century, by Mac Roebuck, "the Head," as Mr. Brewer supposes "of a sept of De Birmingham, descended from Roebuck de Birminghain, a chieftain famous in his generation.”

According to my proposed arrangement, some notices of the family of Talbot should form a second article, appurtenant to this; I have, however, already trespassed too much upon your columns, and in truth, my MS. notices of this name would fill such a quarto on their own account as to make any reasonable abridgment impracticable. J. D.

ANCIENT IRISH BIOGRAPHY.—No. I.

OLLAMH FODHLA.

THERE are few faults in the Irish character more remarkable than the absurd and unjust contempt for native literature, which pervades the higher and middle ranks of our countrymen. Many are the evils which flow from this source, but none is more lamentable than the neglect and ignorance of ancient Irish history. So long has this strange anti-national feeling prevailed, that from ignorance men have proceeded to scepticism, and they now dispute the existence of historical records of a remote period in Ireland. The curious research or patriotism of a few among the learned, during the last five or six centuries, has been devoted to the cultivation of our ancient literature, and the vindication of its authenticity and importance, but so imperfect have been their labours, in general, that there is not, at this moment, in the English language, a single history of Ireland that can be considered complete or satisfactory; and yet no country in the world contains more ample and faithful details of early times, or presents a more interesting subject to the statesman or the scholar, than Ireland. It is not within our province to discuss the causes of the indifference or hostility manifested on all sides, for a long period, to the pursuit of Irish literature; it is enough for us to state, that the obstacles opposed to it were too great to be surmounted by individual exertion, that we deeply deplore the fatal consequences to the country and the character of the people, and that we trust the present times will be found more propitious to the enterprise. It shall be our object, as far as our services can, to attract the attention of all men to the subject, and prepare the public mind for the reception of more mature and solid instruction; for this purpose we have determined to publish a series of biographies, beginning with the earliest annals of our country, knowing how much more interest the greater number of men feel in the actions and fate of individuals, than in the progress of public events, and hoping thus to convey information which would otherwise be overlooked. In the fulfilment of this intention we shall carefully divest our narratives of those fanciful fictions with which the ancient historians too frequently embellish their works, and confine our notice to such circumstances as seem at once true and instructive. We know the great difficulties of this task, but we trust we shall perform it at least usefully; it is a novel undertaking, and we claim the customary privilege of pursuing it undisturbed by the rivalry of others. If our reliance upon the records of our historians should appear too implicit to any of our readers, we should only request them to suspend their judgments till they also consult them. We never knew a man who understood Irish history well dispute its general ac

Ollamh Fodhla seems to have been one of the most extraor dinary men of the early times in which he lived. He was the sixth in direct descent from Ir, the second son of Milesius, and * That is, "doctor of Ireland," or "the learned doctor," for it bears both signification

spirit of emulation would be created by these badges of distinc uon, and such was naturally the result.

This prince was not only a patron of literature in his dominions, but was himself an author, having written a history of his ancestors and their adventures down to his own times. Even the brief sketch we are enabled to give of his reign and character is sufficient to prove that he was one of the wisest and best of princes. His reign lasted from thirty to forty years, (for the precise period is disputed,) and was one of perfect tranquillity, thus proving how much benefit a good prince can confer on a people, and the peaceful tendencies of mankind when rightly governed. He died, unlike many Irish monarchs, a natural death, and was quietly succeeded by his son.

It is remarkable how much men are misled by names of authority; for instance, the ancient law-givers of Greece have been extolled for centuries as the greatest sages of the world, and every portion of their labours minutely investigated and explained, through the accident of their language and philosophy having been studied by the Romans, who led the mind of Europe so long before and after the Christian era; while such characters as that of Ollamh Fodhla have been neglected and despised through the same caprice of custom. Those who are best acquainted with them contend that the Irish annals are more perfect and trust-worthy than those of the Greeks, and yet they are utterly unheeded. If we were to compare the labours of Ollamh Fodhla with those of Lycurgus, whose cotemporary he was, or of Solon, whom he preceded, we think it would not be difficult to prove their great superiority in all that is truly estimable. His system of government was as remarkable for its enlarged, liberal and gentle adaptation to the wants and interests of the people, and its encouragement and cultivation of their highest qualities, as theirs was for an arbitrary, limited, and harsh policy, which aimed at repressing the most amiable attributes of man's nature, and only fostered his sterner and least estimable feelings. His was fitted for all mankind; theirs but for a small community. Owing to the internal dissentions of the state, the operation of his system was interrupted for some time after his death, but was revived in precisely the same form, and continued unchanged in its chief points for many centuries, thus excelling theirs even in point of permanency.

Those who are fond of historical portraits will rejoice to learn that they can see a medallion of the head of Ollamh Fodhla, worked in the dome of the hall of our Four Courts, but they must not expect us to vouch for its fidelity as a resemblance. It presides over the entrance to the court of King's Bench, and with more chronological accuracy than architects are generally guilty of, it is placed between the heads of Moses and Alfred. C.

THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE. ALL knowledge is valuable, but every kind of knowledge is not equally so; thus the art of painting is less estimable than that of weaving, for without pictures we could live very well, but very uncomfortably without plenty of good raiment. Again, we may observe that a particular species of knowledge varies in its value, according to circumstances; thus, weaving is not so useful in Quito as in Iceland, for under an eternal sun there is little need of clothing, but without it human existence could not be preserved among everlasting snows.

That knowledge is of most account which is most adapted to our wants, and this should be the first to be acquired. Indeed, it is the necessity that there is for a thing which makes it in any way desirable; but that should be the first sought of which we are in the most immediate need. When a man who has been wandering two or three days in a forest without having had any thing to satisfy his hunger, chances to perceive on one side of him a fine fruit, and on the other a precious stone, both at a short distance, he proceeds directly to get possession of that on which life depends, and then directs his steps to what at first sight appeared only a bauble, but has now become, from the change of circumstances, of considerable importance. And thus should every nation and the individuals of every nation act: whatever art or science is sooner necessary than another should be cultivated with an earlier application.

DELICATE ATTENTIONS.-In the tenth century, to eat off the same plate, and drink out of the same cup, was considered a mark of gallantry, and the best possible understanding between a lady and gentleman.

AGE OF A TREE.-A yew tree, at Peronne, Picardy, which flourished in the year 634, was in existence in 1790;-1156 years, during which it is known to have existed.

"Now, Judy, I appeal to you look into that tay-cup-did you ever look upon the likes of it?"

Such was the manner in which Judy Mulcahy was addressed, one cold stormy autumn evening, by Peggy Donovan, whose father inhabited a lonesome cottage fixed at one side of that celebrated pass between the counties of Wicklow and Dublin, and which is known to every lover of the picturesque by the name of "the Scalp." no be

On the flattened and hardened mud floor of the humble but still comfortable cabin, there burned two or three sods of turf, upon which simmered a little iron pot filled with water. Near to the graced with a lacquered earthern tea-pot, a blue delf cup, and a hob, or fire-place, was a three-legged deal table which was virgin white china one. Beside the china cup was a cracked dinner-plate, over which was strewed sugar, that from its colour appeared to have been scraped from the mud floor. The right side of the cabin was graced with a drainer, on which dishes of all sizes, wooden platters of all dimensions, and plates of all colours were indiscriminately mixed together, while its upper part was decorated with china cups, bowls, and saucers, which, like many prudent persons in the world, presented to the eyes of the spectator only their sound and fair-looking portions, though the silent wall, like the consciences of the worldly wise, had the opportunity of viewing how hollow, broken, and cracked they really were. The left side of the cabin was occupied with the settle-bed, well scoured each Saturday evening, with shelly sand, and which every night was duly turned down to receive within its wooden ramparts, when "the father had gone to sleep," the ponderous form of Peggy Donovan. From the ceiling depended five hams, and twice as many sides of bacon, every one of which appeared as black as if they had been steeped in a bog, and hung to dry in a coal-mine.

At the three-legged table' sat two females busily engaged in vaticination from the inspection of tea-leaves. There is no superstition so common amongst the Irish peasantry, particularly in the eastern and southern parts of the country, as that of "telling their fortunes" by what is called "cup-tossing." The manner in which this kind of divination is practised is first by leaving a small quantity of liquid in the bottom of the tea-cup, next twisting the cup rapidly in the right hand, and then suddenly putting it mouth downwards, where it is allowed to rest for about a minute. The interpreter of the cup raises it, and according to the various positions in which the tea-leaves are scattered at the bottom, and around the sides, the fate of the tosser is confidently predicted. Peggy Donovan, who was, on this occasion, the tosser, was a stout swivel-eyed girl, who as she gazed with one pupil into the cup, seemed to be taking into the speculation of the other, the calimanco bow-knot which bobbed over her forehead, from a calico cap tightened fast on her head. Opposite to her sat the bearded old woman to whom she had appealed as Judy. This Judy had, from her hirsutine chin, and her extreme old age, (now approaching her nineticth

Never," answered Judy.

'Why, then, now Judy, that's the third time I tossed a cup apon my going to Dublin, and would you believe it, it has always turned up the same way, leaf for leaf, and bit by bit."

"It's mighty curious, entirely, entirely," replied Judy." "Well, now, look at it again," said Peggy; "begin at the right-hand side of the handle and you will see, as plain as you can see the Sugar-loaf hill from my father's door as if there were mile-stones on it, the road from this to Dublin;-then there is a big lump on it-that I think is a purse of gold; well, and then there are two stalks together-that I think is an open hospitable house, where the people are ready to leap out of their skins so glad are they to receive me. I can't make out the meaning of that, for I have no relation in Dublin that would welcome me, but my aunt Maggy Magennis, and she's buried in Kevin's Church-yard these twelvemonths; then there is a tall handsome man-that, I'll engage, is the man I am to be married to, and there is over all a great big blob of a tay-leafI can't make out that, nor what it means, whether it is to be a good service I am going to get, or a parcel of money that is coming to me, or a whole bundle of children that am to have by my marriage, I can't tell."

"Then, to say the truth," Judy replied, "that big blob of a tay-leaf is the very thing that is puzzling me. I have been try ing my fortune with the cups all my life, and never yet found them to deceive me. That cup looks mighty well, but for the cloud over it-that's the big blob, and if you take my advice, you won't go to Dublin for many a month to come."

"Judy, you're doating-that's the fact. Do you want me to die an old maid at the Scalp? Nobody sees me here, and I know very well, if I don't go to Dublin, I have little or no chance of getting a husband-the cloud, I'll engage, is the number of children I am to have, as I told you before."

"May be so," replied Judy, "but I have been looking into tay-cups since I was fit to be married, and I never yet knew of a parcel of children coming over a body's head. I am an old woman, and I can tell you, that is not the way they come at all, at all."

"Well, Judy, there's no use in talkin, I'll go to DublinI'm determined upon it."

"Very well, I wish you luck; but mind Peggy Donovan, and don't forget it, I don't like that big tay-leaf that is hanging over your head just now-you'll meet some mischance, I'm afraid."

Forty-eight hours had not passed over Peggy Donovan's head, till she was walking down Aungier-street, wondering as she went at the immense number of shops that were to be seen in Dublin, and "where in the world the people in them could find customers." She was thinking too, what a mighty pleasant thing it would be if she could at once get into a fine service, or a good marriage, when she perceived a number of persons running at the end of the street. "By dad," thought Peggy, "may be they are running to look for a place, and why should not I run and look as well as the best of them?" Peggy accordingly set off as rapidly as her heavy blue cloak, her large hundle of clothes, her thick brogues, and a double flannel petticoat would allow her to move. As she turned the corner of the street, she saw the crowd was increasing by groups from every side, and when she had advanced about fifty paces she found herself in the circle of a motley multitude of the oorer classes, whose eyes were fixed upon the drawing-room windows of a heavy looking brick house.

“Ah! then, what place in the world is this ?" said Peggy. "Why, then, you must be mighty ignorant not to know," answered a dirty ragged ruffian, standing beside her, and whose low cant and vulgarism at once betrayed the Dublin jackeen. He thus continued, "Gallows battle to your two cockle eyes, that look as if they did'nt like to be seeing your yallow nose, it's so bloody ugly don't you see you are in Stephen-street."

Peggy did not think it proper, after this rebuff, to renew her interrogatories in the same quarter, but she heard from others

that there was a meeting of "the friends of Ireland," convened by Mr. O'Connell, in the house she was gazing at. In a few minutes afterwards she saw a window open, and upon the balcony in front there stepped forth a stout, tall, merry-looking gentleman, whose grey eye lighted with joy as the enthusiastic cheers of thousands greeted his ears.

"Good jewel, said Peggy, "is that the great O'Connell ?" "The dickens a one else," replied an old man, "there he is the very pattern of an Iveragh prince, and it is always good news he has for the poor and the heart-broken Irish-long life and a happy death to him."

Peggy listened with the most intense interest to the speaker as he proceeded to dilate on the political questions then under discussion. In the course of his observations he touched on that topic on which Peggy's thoughts were constantly employed -matrimony, and held out to the poor such flattering prospects of domestic happiness from the accomplishment of some ineasures which she, however, did not clearly comprehend, that she begun to clasp her hands with joy, and invoked blessings upon the head of the orator who promised such benefits; when suddenly a rude hand snapped at the bundle she bore under her arm. Peggy pressed it still closer, and the next moment her fine large heavy blue cloak, the very pride of Wicklow on a Sunday, was seen fluttering through the crowd. The loss of the very finest of her finery put all notions of patriotism out of her head, and she ran through the multitude calling upon every honest man to stop the robber. The attention of the people was too much engrossed, and Peggy's loss was unnoticed. She saw the robber, who appeared to be the Dublin jackeen she had first spoken to, turn up a narrow lane. Peggy followed him, but when she was half-way through the lane, she could find no traces of the thief.

66

Sad and disconsolate she stood, the very semblance of despair, in the middle of the narrow passage which is well known to every Dublin police officer, by the name of "Goat-Alley." Judy, Judy," thought Peggy, "after this you are a witchthe big tay-leaf, that was hanging over me, is my new blue cloak flying off from me. Its gone, and I might as well think of coaxing a trout out of the river, as finding my cloak in this dirty iane."

"Im sorry to see any thing fretting a handsome young girl like you," said a tall young man, who was standing at an open door in the lane. Peggy looked at this kind friend, and her gratitude was immediately excited; for the sympathy was expressed by a man apparently about twenty-five years of agenot less than six feet in height, and athletic in his form-the only defect in his face was a heavy red complexion, which might be the effects either of extreme health, or of debauchery before the constitution begins to sink beneath it. There was, too, a slight mark below his right eye, which looked like the last glowing tinge of a brilliant black-eye, and to the observation of the experienced, was as certain an indication of a bye-gone fray, as is the crimson colour that tints the evening sky, and tells the lovers of nature that there has burned a few hours since the fervid heats of the scorching sun. Peggy's head was filled with no poetic ideas but those which appertain to matrimony, and she nearly forgot the recent loss she had sustained, in the interest she saw she had excited in a tall well-looking man, who might be, for aught she knew, her fated lord and master."

Few persuasive arguments were required to induce her to enter the open, and the hospitable home to which John Foy (for such he stated was his name,) invited her. The moment that she entered the house, however, she was surprised to find the door quickly closed behind her, and two bars drawn across it. Upon looking round her she found herself in a narrow little cell of a room, at one end of which were two or three beds huddled together, and having thrown over them a dirty party-coloured quilt, from beneath which the ends of foul looking sheets, and rusty blankets protruded themselves. Along the naked walls. were arranged broken stools, and dilapidated chairs, while a riketty table in the centre of the room was covered with greasy cords steeped in the dregs of punch and porter, and interspersed amongst cracked quart bottles, delf cups, and one or two glasses. Underneath the table were broken tobacco pipes, and scattered papers, that, from their twisted forms, seemed to have once enveloped either snuff or tobacco. The atmosphere she breathed was laden with the deleterious gas of a recent debauch. Peggy, at once, began to suspect she was not in "a proper house," and her suspicions were confirmed when she discoverea that the companion of the handsome young man, and who had bolted the door behind her, seemed to be the very person who had robbed her of her cloak.