same chilling and disagreeable manner that some countenances haunt me.

How delightful are those countenances which express at first sight a kind interest in those on whom they look, which seems to enquire, "What are you about?-have we anything in common ?-can we be of use to each other?" This is the look which encourages and excites our energies; which at first sight fulfils that sublime commandment of our religion, "To love our neighbour as ourself." But alas! there are many who gaze upon a fellow-creature for the first time, with utter indifference, which is worse than contempt, because a contemptuous look sometimes excites our energy—we feel thatwe are not bad enough to be treated so, and therefore it is not so depressing as the dullmaking gaze of indifference.

CHAPTER VI.

Journey to Wexford and Enniscorthy-Anecdotes of the Rebellion-Dick Hennesey, or the rights of man.

Tinahinch, County Wicklow.-THIS lovely place belongs to Mr. Grattan; here his celebrated father lived, and it is full of interesting memorials of that great man. Besides his picture, the house contains those of many of the remarkable characters of the last century, who were his friends or relations. The glen in which it is situated, was then called the Happy Valley, from the social spirit which actuated its inhabitants ; though, from the sad influence of party spirit, it

no longer deserves the name, yet it looks as if it did so, and is certainly one of the most lovely spots imaginable.

The stream which runs through the dargle, is gliding along, just under my windows, with a pleasant soothing sound. Large sycamores and beech-trees overshadow its banks, and above them is seen the Sugar-loaf mountain; its colour ever changing from dark purple to the light roseate hue of sunset, as the shadows or sunshine flit over its rugged brow.

Since last I took out my diary, we have seen much, and made a pleasant tour. From Waterford we went by New Ross, to Wexford; the country is very pretty, particularly about New Ross, which is on the Nore, that fine river with which we had already made acquaintance at Woodstock, to whose beauty it contributes so materially. Wexford has many fearfully interesting associations connected with the rebellion of 1798.

We walked over the long bridge which was the scene of a dreadful massacre. We have a servant who can just remember the horrible

murder of his father and two uncles on that fatal bridge; he was there as a child with his grandfather, and remembers that the old man implored the brutal assassins to spare his life, for the sake of the child, his little grandson. The rebels' hearts were touched, and they granted the old man's prayer, who lived to bring up the boy.

Wexford has a greater air of antiquity about it than any Irish town I have seen; the streets are very narrow, and the small pointed gables and windows look very original.

The inn is situated in what is called the principal street of the town; but it is so narrow that not only is it impossible for two carriages to pass, but foot passengers are obliged to get within some open door, when any vehicle goes by. Yet in this unpromising situation, we found a most excellent hotel-so good a one I have seldom seen in any country.

From Wexford we went to Enniscorthy, and were much disappointed with the beauty of the scenery through which the road passess. Inglis speaks of it as being extremely pretty. Enniscorthy itself is indeed beautifully situated on the

river Slaney; and Vinegar-hill, that spot so celebrated for the battle fought there during the rebellion, forms a fine feature in the view.

Whilst I was making the sketch which is here given, an old man came up to W——, and told him many dreadful things which happened during his youth in that town. He afterwards accompanied us during a long walk which we took in the neighbourhood. In passing through a wild and romantic looking glen, I remarked a blackened heap of stones, and shuddered as I thought that probably it had been the scene of some dreadful event during the civil wars. Our old companion saw that I looked with horror towards the spot, and he said :—

"I'll tell ye something strange about them blackened walls; and indeed I wish ye'd spread the story of them far and wide, for I often think if all the rebellious chaps, and the people called Chartists, know'd what happened here, they'd lose their right hands sooner than go on a moment longer with their perilous practices. And yet what use is there?—who will take any body else's experience, or larn from other's mis