people such as these, who have scarcely enough to appease their own hunger, who expect their children to work and to earn money, who usually repel and even imprecate the useless consumer, such affection as I have described may well be called a phenomenon ; and it is possible that this poor beggar-woman has shown greater affection for her idiot son than is possessed by a hundred thousand mothers. It is a shame that we travellers so frequently neglect such phenomena, which are so often to be found beneath lowly roofs, instead of seeking them out and making them known to the world.

Mary Sullivan, the old aunt, had meanwhile hung her flowerwreathed hat on the wall, and also laid aside other parts of her costume. She then took from her pocket some potatoes and a fish, which had probably been made a present to her; the former she placed on that corner of the fire which she seemed to consider as her own, and the fish she suspended over it by a wire. She next took out her pipe and began to smoke. She told me, in answer to my inquiry, that her smoking cost her at least a halfpenny a day, or upwards of fifteen shillings a year, exclusive of the many little fragile clay pipes which she must use in that time. This was no inconsiderable sum for a beggar-woman; and as in Ireland a large piece of bread can be purchased for a halfpenny, it is to be wished that another Father Mathew may arise, to wean the poor Irishwomen from tobacco, and induce them to expend in bread, for themselves and their children, what they now lay out on this use

less weed.

Tenderness and hospitality are qualities generally possessed by the Irish. All classes are likewise much at their ease in their intercourse with strangers; and in this respect the higher ranks resemble the Parisians. In many countries, when a stranger visits the huts of the poor, he must undergo a long and scrutinizing stare before they feel comfortable in his presence. With the Irish it is quite the reverse. Poor and half-naked though they may be, such accommodation as they have is instantly offered to their well-dressed visitor without embarrassment; and though they never forget to address him politely, as 66 your honcur," they always appear to consider him-what he really istheir equal.

"God

When I took my leave of the Sullivans, more than one speed ye!" accompanied me to the door, with the most sincere thanks for the honour I had done them by my visit, and for the sympathy which I had shown for the unfortunate brother and son, The two little ones had in the meantime lighted a couple of dry splinters of wood for torches, and accompanied me over their

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rough, rocky path. When at last I drove them back, and bade them good-bye, I saw them for a long time standing above on the rock, lighting my way with their torches, while with their pretty little voices they continually called out, "Take care, your honour, take care! God speed ye !"

CHAPTER XVI.

FROM BANTRY TO CORK.

A HUNDRED AND FIVE YEARS OLD-BANDON-OPPOSITION-MR. BIANCONI -BIANCONI CARS-" WHICH IS THE ROAD TO KERRY?"

The next morning, although it was not yet day, another crowd of beggars surrounded our travelling car. Hunger drives these poor people to their daily melancholy work before the dawn. I did not, however, discover amongst them Mary Sullivan's flowerdecorated hat. Perhaps she is better off, as she lives with her sister, and can sleep and smoke somewhat longer than others of her profession. Among these beggars was an old man, more than usually miserable in appearance, who was pushed about in a little car. His weak, whining voice constantly joined the din of the rest in a melancholy song, which consisted of these words: "Hundred and five years old! Blind and weak, and a hundred and five years old!" His miserable appearance gained the victory over the rest, and he received the little we were able to bestow. As I was getting up on the car, I perceived that the little boy who pushed on the old man's car, shook him, and informed him that a gentleman had thrown something into it. "God bless him! long life to him! God save his honour! God carry him home!" These good wishes, which this old living century murmured out in a trembling voice, accompanied us on our journey.

These blessings were the only thing worthy of remark on our entire journey from Bantry to Cork, a distance of about fifty miles, and through a somewhat desolate and uninteresting country, not much better cultivated than Kerry, and devoid of the interesting variety which the mountains and valleys and steep precipices there afford. It is in a mountainous country alone that a wilderness can be at all attractive, and a plain can only please when it is highly cultivated. The single exception to this on our whole route was the little town of Bandon, situated on the Bandon river, and whose environs are well planted with trees, and adorned with neat country-seats. Bandon, I was told, is as famous in the

south of Ireland for the tranquillity and loyalty of its citizens as Londonderry (or Derry, as the Irish usually call it,) is in the north. Why Bandon is so tranquil and loyal I know not; but with respect to Londonderry the reason may probably be found in its origin, the town having been founded by a colony from London, by whom the germ of its loyalty may have been transported from the city of the Thames. "Loyal Derry" is the appellation by which it is generally known throughout Ireland.

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The next best thing on this road, after the blessings of the beggars, is the cheapness of travelling upon it. The charge for these fifty miles is only three shillings and sixpence, being less than a penuy a mile; while from Killarney to Bantry, which is but half that distance, we had to pay double the amount. The latter road, being, as I have said, only recently opened, the intercourse was not yet very great, and there was no opposition coach; while between Bantry and Cork there was a great opposition.' Here two rival cars had been established, and were mutually endeavouring to exceed one another in speed and cheapness. This opposition, however, had only existed about two years, and previous to that time the proprietor of the single car that travelled the road charged double and treble the present fares. Thus, even in its remotest parts, Ireland is every day deriving greater benefits, and becoming more animated, by the speculating and enterprising spirit of the English.

The principal proprietor and chief improver of cars, throughout the whole of Ireland, is an Italian named Bianconi, whose extensive enterprises entitle him to particular notice, especially as he is one of the rare instances in which a foreigner has beaten the English in speculation within their own territories. This remarkable man, by whose horses and cars one can now travel through the greater part of Ireland, came over here a little Italian boy, like many who are to be found in all the towns of the United Kingdom, to make a livelihood either by selling plaster images, or playing a barrel-organ. As he was a frugal and industrious lad, his images produced him some money, which he expended in other wares. His stock soon became so extensive, that he was no longer able to drag about his goods on his own back, as heretofore: he therefore purchased a donkey and a cart, such as are quite common in Ireland. The donkey, however, was not sufficiently quick for him, so he eventually bought a horse; and as he did not require its constant use, and had no idea of feeding it for nothing, he occasionally let out the animal to others for money and fair words. He now found that the hiring of his horse brought him more money in the end than the sale of his little wares: he

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therefore resolved to buy another, so as to be able to hire out one, and to employ the other in carrying on his own business. At the same time he made an improvement in his car, arranging it so that, beside his wares, he could take up one or two passengers on the road. In short, in this way he by degrees established himself as a proprietor of public cars, in the town of Clonmel, which lies to the north-east of Cork. At first he only traversed the districts around Clonmel, as far as Cork, Kilkenny, &c., for which purpose he built those large, convenient, and open cars, resting on springs, which I have already described. By means of their long seats, on which an undefined number of passengers might be stowed, he was able to fix a very low fare. He therefore assisted in the establishment of a number of other cars, to run in connexion with his own; and travelled, or rather made his drivers travel, many roads on which no regular mode of conveyance for passengers had previously existed. In this mode, by purchasing horse after horse, building additional cars, and taking more drivers into his service, he gradually extended all over Ireland a chain of diligence-cars which is elsewhere unequalled in extensiveness and utility. He now possesses no fewer than 600 of these large cars, and 1500 horses, all of which are constantly employed. assert that he has 900 cars and 2000 horses; and even Mr. Bianconi himself may probably not know the precise number. He is now a great and a wealthy man, and is esteemed by all his adopted countrymen, not more for his intelligence than for his benevolence.

Some

Mr. Bianconi has also had small maps of Ireland engraved, on which the various roads travelled by his cars are distinctly marked; and artists have been further employed in dignifying his enterprises by engraving a series of well-executed copper-plates, entitled "The Bianconi Cars," prints from which are to be seen all over Ireland. In one is represented the loading of one of these strange carriages, and the travellers taking their seats; in the second, their arrival at one of the Bianconi inns; in the third, the passengers are overtaken by a storm; in the fourth, the four horses, with their lengthy appendage of carriage, luggage, and passengers, are spiritedly galloping up a hill; in the fifth, the horses are being changed in the midst of a landscape of heath and bog, whilst the passengers are jumping off their seats to obtain exercise or refreshment; and in others similar characteristic incidents are pourtrayed.

"Which is the road to Kerry?" exclaimed my companion in a jeering tone to some Kerrymen who met us near Cork, their little horses guided by long straw bridles, and adorned with coarsely

plaited straw saddles. The people here in Cork seem to take great pleasure in making themselves merry at the expense of these good-humoured and oddly-equipped mountaineers, who bring the produce of their farms and dairies to this market.

CHAPTER XVII.

SECTION 1.-CORK.

"RATHER SHARP"-CORK PICTURE EXHIBITION-BRANCHES OF INDUSTRY AT CORK-THE BUTTER WEIGH-HOUSE-PADDY AND HIS BACON FLITCHES.

It is said the Kerry people are learned, but poor, and somewhat boorish in their manners; the Limerick people handsome and polite; and the Dublin people extremely complaisant and hospitable, and the most refined of all the Irish. "And what are the Cork people?" inquired I of my travelling companion, who was giving me all this information at the Commercial Hotel, where we had alighted. "Rather sharp!" replied he; "they like to make merry at other people's expense, and are distinguished from all the other natives of Ireland by their peculiar and witty mockery. They are quick at remarking the weak sides of others, and often mercilessly persecute them with delicate yet cutting sarcasms.' "Have the Cork people themselves, then, no weak side?" "Oh yes !"- -But while .my friend was meditating a suitable reply, there burst forth beneath our window one of those most frightful attempts at music which the temperance bands, who march through the streets of Cork in the evening, are in the habit of making; and as it was Saturday night, they were followed by so many persons, that I clearly perceived that one of the weak sides of the Cork people must be some where in the region of their ears, since, were it otherwise, their police would not suffer the ears of the entire public to be annoyed by sounds more detestable than even the catterwauling of cats.

The following day, on visiting the picture exhibition of this good city, I imagined that I had discovered another of the weak sides of the Cork people, in a neighbourhood not very remote from their eyes, since upon the various pieces of canvas which were here exposed to view, so many displeasing forms and colours were brought together, that their want of harmony annoyed me almost as much as the music of the evening before. As, however, I had come to this exhibition not to criticise the works of the Cork artists, nor to delight myself with perfect creations of art, but to