The Irishman At Home

The Englishman at homo is a mucb: more lovable animal than tho Englishman abroad, but Pat in Ireland is even more of a pig thau in this country. In-' deed the squalor and poverty, and cold, skinny wretchedness ono sees in Iroland, and (what frcezes our sympathies) the groveling, swiny shiftlessness that pervades these hovels, no traveler can be prepared for. It is tho bare proso of misery, the unheroic of tragcdy. There fe not one redeemiug or mitigating feature. Eailway traveling in Ireland is not so rapid or cheap as in Euglaml. Neithor ! are tho hotels as good or as clean, or the fields so well kept, or the look of the country 80 thrifty and peaceful. Tho dissatisfaction of tho people is in tho very air. Ireland looks sour and sad. She looks oíd, too, as do all those countries beyond seas, oíd in a way that tho American is a stranger to. It is not the ugo of nature, the unshakcn permanence of the billa through long periods of time, but the weight of human years and human sor-" rows, as if tho earth sympathized with man and took on his attributes and infirmitios. I did not go much about Bubiíñ, and the most characteristic things Ieuw there wore thoso qucer, uncomfortable dogcarts, a sort of Irish buil on wheels, with tho driver on ono sido halancmg tho passenger on the other, and thu luggago occupying the seat of safely between, It comes the nearest to riding 011 horseback, and on a side-saddle at that, of any vehiole travoling I ever did. 1 stopped part oí a day at Hallow, au old town on the Black water, in ono of the most fertilo agrieultural districts of Iroland. The situatien is fine, and au American naturally expects to seo a charming rural to-wn planted with trees and fillod with clean corufortable homos;' but ho finds instead a wretched place, smitten with a plague of filth and mud,' and offering but one object upon which tho eyo can dwéll with ploasuro, and that ia the ruins of an old castle, " Mallow Castle ovor the Blackwator," which dates' baok to the time of Lineen ülizaboth. It stands amid noble trees on the banks of tho rivor, and its walla, sonio of them tbr ty or ftity teet high, are completely over-' run with ivy. The Blackwater, a rapid, ainbor coioi-ed streaia, is spanrted at this' point by s superb granite bridge. And I wil! say hero that anything fiks' a rural town in our sonso, a town with troe-3 and gras3 and largo spaces about tha houseo, gardeas, yards, shrubbery, coolneos fragriinco, etc, suem r.nknown in Eugland or Iroland. Tho tovng and villagera renmanta of fendol Hmes, andseeatohaTo boen built wita an eyo to' av.A compaotness, or olso mea woro moro social and lovod to get closor togother thoa than now. Perbaps the demp,' chilly olimato mede tüem draw uoarer together. At any rata the ooun-" try towns are little citios; or rather it is as if anoihor London had been cut up in little and big piscos and distributod over'