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pity as soon as they are hatched, and are equally savage to their fellows when grown up.

ANNA. I am glad we have none of them here, papa. PAPA. We have reason for thankfulness, my dear, in our general freedom from noxious animals in this happy island. I believe there are very few, of any kind, that can render us material personal injuries; and there are none, that I know of, that can cause death. Z. Z.

GEOGRAPHICAL READINGS.

No. III.

IRELAND.

"Il diviso del mondo, l'ultima Irlanda."

Gierusalemme Liberata, Cant. 1.

"GREEN isle of the ocean," "Emerald gem of the western wave"-such are the titles bestowed on Ireland by our ancient bardic writers, and justly does this beautiful island merit their praise. In length, it measures from north to south 280 miles, and in breadth, 160. Like its sister country, it is in some parts rocky and mountainous, in others fertile and level. Many rivers traverse its plains: amongst the principal are the Shannon, which may vie with our majestic Thames, the Blackwater and the Suire, the Barrow, the Boyne, famous for the battle fought on its banks, which gained William the crown of Ireland, the Liffy, the Bann, and the Dery. Canals, too, abound, as well as in England, and afford an easy carriage through the kingdom. The principal lakes are those of Killarney, whose romantic beauties are justly celebrated. They are divided into the Upper and Lower Lakes, and their banks are clothed with the scarlet-berried arbutus, while the wellwooded Islands, scattered on the bosom of the waters, add fresh beauty to this enchanting scene. Lakes Earn, Neagh, Foyle, Swilly, and Dery, are also much spoken

of. The mountains are Mourne, and Iveah, the Wicklow Hills, and Mangerton, and Turk, near Lake Killarney. Like England, it has few cascades; but those of the Shannon, and the falls of the Dargle, near Lord Powerscourt's enchanting domain, are well able to vie in pieturesque beauty with any foreign falls. Its mineral riches are very great-iron, tin, lead,-nay, silver, and even gold-have been found; and the hopes of discovering a mine of the last mentioned metals, induced many to risk considerable sums. But a prospect better founded was opened in the year 1751, by the discovery of a very rich copper mine at Arklow, which still amply repays its owners for their expense. The lead mines of Ireland produce large quantities of silver. Many species of marble have been discovered in Ireland, but few of them appear to be of any use. The Wicklow pebbles, when polished, form very handsome necklaces, and pearls have been found in the Shannon and other rivers. But the most astonishing phænomenon connected with mineralogy in Ireland, is the Giant's Causeway. This wonderful basaltic structure, with which my readers are well acquainted, is supposed to extend under the sea, as far as the Isle of Staffa. It has often been aptly compared to the palace of some mighty being, and in gazing on it, one may every moment expect to see the portals unclose, and its dread inhabitant come forth to view the bold intruders. Another extraordinary feature in Ireland are the bogs, which, perhaps, whether we consider their extent, or their peculiar conformation, are unparalleled. Many have been drained, but the most bid fair to defy the efforts of man; yet even they yield something useful, as they are frequently used in the construction of the Irish cabin, and produce that well known fuel peat. Numberless conjectures have been formed as to the time and manner of their beginning, but nearly every one has failed, from the circumstance of their being equally applicable to every other country, where no bog's

are to be found. It is, however, a curious fact, that utensils of pottery, iron, and even gold ornaments, &c. have been discovered under their surface. The picturesque round towers, too, have greatly puzzled the antiquary as to the time of their erection, and the use of their erection. Enormous horns of the morse or deer kind are frequently found, and many species of extinct animals have been discovered in a fossil state. The Irish appear to have been once a very refined nation, but the barbarous policy of their English conquerors, who destroyed all their records, has left us little light on the subject, but that of tradition. The Irish language so closely resembles the Punic, as to be used in translating a scene in Plautus, written in that dialect, which had hitherto defied every effort to render it intelligible. For her vegetable productions, Ireland greatly resembles her sister country; but we have, we believe, noticed, that the arbutus, rarely, if ever found in England, grows in profusion in Ireland. The country, in many parts, is very destitute of wood, but the pastures are fine. The lower orders chiefly feed on potatoes, and their vigorous constitutions speak highly in favour of this simple diet. The animal productions, too, closely resemble those of Great Britain, though it is evident, from the fossil remains, that many gigantic quadrupeds must have formerly inhabited Ireland. The seas abound in fish, which supply a profitable article of commerce. The manufactures of Ireland, owing to the disturbed state of the country, are few; but that of linen, established by the patriotism of Dr. Samuel Madden, proves to how high a pitch they might carry their industry. The great superiority of the Irish linen to the English, has been sometimes attributed to the greater flexibility of the fingers of the Irish spinning women, owing to the great moisture of the air. The exports are numerous; the vast numbers of cattle furnish abundance of beef and butter; they also export in great quantities cattle, hides, wool, suet, tallow, wood, cheese, wax, honey, salt, hemp, flax, furs, frieze, linen,

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and thread. The character of the inhabitants is highly impetuous, warm, and ungovernable; they are unalterable in their attachment, and many beautiful tales have been selected of the readiness with which they have risked their lives to save those of others to whom they owed any obligation. They are extremely hospitablethe poorest peasant in Ireland will offer to the stranger an air of the fire, with potatoes and butter-milk, and minds no trouble in setting him right, if he have lost his way, even though it take him ten miles out of his own. They have a great fund of native humour-their wellknown blunders, entitled bulls, are a great characteristic in even the higher ranks of society. They possess a great fund of oratory, ingenuity, and strong good sense, but their inordinate love of whiskey, and their highly irritable characters, frequently occasion much bloodshed and confusion. The state of the peasantry in some parts of the country, is wretched in the extreme, but in others, it is greatly improved. The established religion is that of the Church of England, but the prevailing one is the Roman Catholic. Great rebellions have often taken place in Ireland, but the state of the people, to which they are reduced by the absenteeism of the nobility and gentry, and the oppression of the petty farmers, must, in some measure, plead their excuse. Great pains have lately been taken to ameliorate the condition of the peasantry; and we may hope that, ere long, Ireland will as firmly unite with her sister countries in every respect, as in the three divisions of the national emblem -the green and graceful shamrock. And perhaps I cannot better conclude this article, than with the lines from the pen of a highly celebrated poet, whose candour has given the generous and warm-hearted natives of the Emerald Isle their due.

Hark! from yon stately ranks what laughter rings,
Mingling wild mirth with war's stern minstrelsy;

His jest while each blithe comrade flings,

And moves to death with military glee.

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Boast, Erin, boast them! tameless, frank, and free;
In kindness warm, and fierce in danger known,
Rough nature's children, humourous as she;
And he, yon chieftain-strike the proudest tone
Of thy bold harp, green Isle !-the hero is thine own.
THE VISION OF DON RODERICK

EUGENIA.

HYMNS AND POETICAL RECREATIONS.

"When I remember thee upon my bed.”—Psalm Ixiii. 6

IN the mid silence of the voiceless night,
When chas'd by airy dreams the slumbers flee,
Whom in its darkness does my spirit seek,
O God, but Thee?

And if there seem a weight upon my breast,
Some vague impression of the day foregone,
Scarce knowing what it is, I fly to Thee,
And lay it down.

Or if it be such heaviness as comes
In token of anticipated ill,

My bosom takes no care for what it means,
Since 'tis thy will.

And oh in spite of past or future care,
Or any thing beside, how joyfully
Passes that silent, solitary hour,
My God, with Thee!

More tranquil than the bosom of the night,
More peaceful than the stillness of that hour,
More bless'd than any thing, my bosom lies
Beneath thy power.

For what is there on earth that I desire
Of all that it can give or take from me-
Or what is there in heaven that I need,
My God, but thee?

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