in Italy and France, and especially in Switzerland, we have found our guides and waiters always pervious to good humor, and exceedingly apt at joking and pleasant conversation-ever ready to understand and join heartily in a laugh. Not so in England. There is a sort of pseudo-dignity which renders each good-humored sympathy as much feared as poison. Sam Wellers are raræ aves. Honest, credulous, pompous Pickwicks are common. They are ever ready to receive with implicitness the most improbable story, if it is out of their sphere, which consists of an experience in English breakfasts and dinners, and reading the Times. Far better informed about England is our population, than the population of England about America. The ordinary people want to know if we have telegraphs and railroads; and when informed of their extent in our country, receive the information with the amazement and the implicit reliance which a revelation from Heaven would engender. Several times we have been the object of special wonder because we spoke English like one of themselves, and because we were -white! It is no uncommon subject of merriment among Americans, that even well-educated Englishmen have frequently asked the most unsophisticated questions in relation to our society, its language and customs. XXXIV. A Glance at Ireland. "The grave abound in pleasantries, the dull in repartees and points of wit." Addison. T would be ungracious in the extreme to suffer the fatigues of a voyage from America, and return without a glimpse, at least, of Ireland. We have devoted, therefore, the last ten days of our stay to a circuit which includes Dublin and Belfast, and extends into Scotland. We awoke at Kingstown, Ireland, this morning, the 24th of August. Hurriedly dressing, we rushed out of the boat, for the Dublin cars. It was raining. Not being perfectly awake, I did not perceive the state of the weather, until some broth of a boy, with a carriage, shouted, 'Sure, and is it the likes of you that will let your leddies walk in the rain?' while another, a porter, suggested to my companion: An it's you that's so well dressed, that you will not carry your own portmanteau?' I felt sure that I was in Ireland. Dublin town is remarkable for nothing, unless it be a fine park, wide straight streets, an elegant custom-house, brick houses, and a monument or so. The shoeless women and tattered children to be seen in the streets bespeak the truth, that Ireland is indeed wedded to poverty. A great many persons from too much zeal in Protestantism, attribute all the misery of Ireland to her peculiar religion. The mischief lies deeper, in the tenure of the soil. No one can travel through the Catholic countries which we have seen, especially those in Switzerland, and conclude that Catholicism, in and of itself, tends to produce poverty, or that it is not favorable, when left free and pure, uncon nected with politics, to the growth of manliness and virtue. A more generous and a nobler people never lived than some of those Alpine Catholics. The same may be said of some parts of Germany. At Heidelberg, we found the pleasing anomaly of Catholic and Protestant simultaneously worshipping in the same church. The people there seem pervaded with the gentle tolerance of Melancthon, who was educated at Heidelberg University. What a shame it is, that the people of Ireland are not permitted to enjoy their own religion with the same freedom with which the Protestants of England enjoy theirs. Catholicism is as much the religion of the Irish people as Protestantism is that of England. For years its enjoyment, under such officers and in such modes as they might see fit, has been guaranteed. Even the English Lord-lieutenant has addressed the Catholic primates, by the titles which they have here assumed, and has sent soldiers to guard their assemblies from disturbance; when, all at once, on the pretext afforded by Cardinal Wiseman's case, these titles are declared illegal, as well in Ireland as in England; and penalties enacted against those who wear them, as if they were in a horrible conspiracy against the majesty of Victoria. How magnanimous this, most truly! What if the Roman cardinals be corrupt, as no doubt they are ; what if English Protestant worship be hardly tolerated at Rome; what if the good-hearted Pope issues his rescript? Is there any danger herein to the English hierarchy? and if there were, shall the Irish clergy be placed under ban and penalty: therefor, especially after so long an encouragement? Into what dilemmas and absurdities will not a nation run, that does not strictly adhere to the most unlimited toleration, or that connects its civil with its religious establishment. A great meeting of Irish clergymen and people, has lately been held. There is but one spirit breathing throughout their proceedings,-united resistance to this unexampled aggression. England could not render Ireland more ungovernable by any other act than that of the last session about the ecclesiastical titles, for it strikes at her religion--the most sensitive part of every society. Let resistance, strong and steadfast, be made; and let the American people, Catholic and Protestant, sympathize in a movement, whose object is to resist the most miserable intolerance that has disgraced the English statute-book since the time when Dissenters and Catholics alike, were at the mercy of Jeffries, and when conformity to the established church, was a principle and a practice, at once repugnant to reason and humanity. The Church of England can gain nothing, but must lose much, by its coercive measures towards the Catholics. Persecution will do its old work, by creating devotees around the altars of the persecuted. 1 It is Sunday in Dublin. They call it a "walking Sunday," because there are no festivities or glees on hand, but every one walks about soberly and decently; a prelude to the uproariousness of the coming Fair week. To-morrow the grand fair begins at Donnybrook, a little streamlet, upon whose banks the Irish gather in crowds, to spend and lose all they have, in gaming, drinking and dancing. We took a car, an outside one, and vis ited the spot, in company with Mr. Mowatt, a friend in Dublin, whose humor was as amusing as his attentions were kind. The car is peculiar in itself, and peculiar to, as well as common in, Dublin. It is a sulky, with low wheels, and seats directly over the wheels. The passengers ride sideways, their feet resting outside the wheels on a footboard, and the driver sits aloft upon a seat in front, full of wit, which, like his whip, is constantly on the crack. Six can ride on the outside. It is like an omnibus on two wheels, with all the top off, and the seats back to backvery light, and a convenient observatory of men and manners in the streets. We arrived at Donnybrook, and found many thousands gathered in the green fields, looking at the erection of the booths, preparatory for the morrow. Already the houses and taverns about were full of revellers. Scotch whiskey, bagpipes and fiddling, were going, in conjunction with pattering feet upon sanded floors. Pipes and apples, toys and cakes, were being vended by witty rogues. But every thing was decent, and in order. The "bating the police with shillelaghs," and the bloody noses, do not become dramatic, until the fair is fairly opened. Then look out! Passing fine houses, and through airy streets, enjoying the humorous repartees of our driver, we drove by Nelson's column, and penetrated the Park. It is an extremely large area, full of deer and game, and specially kept for the recreation of the Lordlieutenant. A fine monument to Wellington, not unlike that of Bunker Hill, is in the midst, overlooking the hills of green upon the south, and the city with its river Anne Liffey (named after a King's daughter who was drowned in it whilome), over whose waters are numerous handsome bridges, connecting the city. Nelson and Wellington England's proudest boast; the hero of the sea, and the hero of the land. Why should they be so conspicuously honored by Ireland? Why? Because they remembered England's glory, and not Irish ruth? The Duke has been indeed "iron," so far as Ireland claimed his sympathy. He has none of the impetuous open-heartedness which ever marks the true son of Erin. To-day we have experienced very cold weather. It may be accounted for here in this wise. It is the 24th of August, St. Bartholomew's day. The Irish have a maxim, "St. Bartholomew Upon this day he puts a stone into the waters, which turns the river-water all cold, and the well-water all warm; and this continues until St. Patrick's day, 17th of March, when that clever old saint turns the stone, and renders the wells cold, and the rivers warm. How many scientific disquisitions and meteorological observations are saved by such a simple tradition! There are two extensive poor-houses here, with over ten thousand in each; and yet the beggars of Dublin are as thick as leaves at Vallambrosa. The country looks finely, the harvests |