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clothes to go in search of absolution. At last he spied a bell-rope, and giving it a hearty tug, he leaped into bed again. Poor Molly and no

"Beautiful spirit with her hair of light
And dazzling eyes of glory——"

answered the summons. Pray, why did you not call me at 7 o'clock, as I desired you.". "I went to the room in which you had gone to bed last night-besides, there was your watch under the pillow-your impression in the bed and your clothes placed on a chair, ready for putting on."-"Then where the d. 1 am I, and how came I here?"—" You are a story higher, just above your own room." Our hero was now satisfied that he had been rambling over the house in his sleep, and had mistaken a story in returning to his own room. He then recollected that this was a trick to which he had been addicted when a boy, and the fatigue of a long journey had contributed very probably to revive this old habit. Molly proceeded to fetch the clothes of the disenchanted knight, resolving within herself never to trust her own door unlocked again, lest it should be opened accidentally by some sleepwalking traveller, to the great injury of her own reputation! "Ici finit l'histoire-le rideau tombe". -as Madame de Sévigné says.

On the 20th inst. I dined at the country seat of Mr. Molyneux, to whom you sent me a letter of introduction. My travelling dress gave me so humble an appearance, that I had

previously begged Mr. M. to let our dinner be as private as possible. I found, however, more persons than I wished. I remarked the significant winks and grimaces of the servants as I passed through the hall. The dinner was every thing that the most epicurean appetite could desire. I was pleased with the manners of Mrs. Molyneux, and was quite enchanted with her daughter, the beautiful Alicia. Mr. M. put me in mind of Ulick o' Shane in Miss Edgeworth's Ormond. He was a fine gallant off-hand looking Irishman, with something of dash in his tone and air, which at first view might lead a common observer to pronounce him to be vulgar; but at five minutes after sight, a good judge of men and manners would have discovered in him the power of assuming whatever manner he chose, from the audacity of the callous profligate to the deference of the accomplished courtier. His brother is an Irishman par excellence, passing his time" in strenuous idleness"-making jokes, quizzing, hoaxing, and drinking oceans of claret every evening. He answers the description of the thoughtless Irishman, in Tom Jones. "To say the truth, he was one of those compositions which Nature makes up in too great a hurry, and forgets to put any brains into their head!"

Mrs. Molyneux, with whom I had a very interesting conversation, observed to me, that the society of Dublin was composed of all the elements of a polite and well educated community; that genius and merit always obtained

the palm over opulence, airs and dress; (as she said this, I felt a pang for my own dear native city!) that the fine ladies of the tiers état generally dress more extravagantly than their rivals of a certain caste; but that their dress was often the ne plus ultra of dazzle, glitter and tastelessness!

Alicia was the magnet that attracted me the most-You can form no idea of the beauty and charms of this fascinating creature. The shabbiness of my attire prevented me from monopolizing her conversation; but the whole afternoon I feasted my eyes on the exquisite face and form of this "cunning'st pattern of excelling nature." Then her voice! "Oh! she would sing the savageness out of a bear!" Her mother told me that she had spent a couple of winters in Paris, which accounted for her grace and accomplishments-But I was very sorry to hear that Miss was engaged to a very rich, very stupid and very old fellow. Really this is too much. Alicia cannot possibly be happy with such a man, however grand may be her house, coaches and liveries!

After "perambulating the campaign," (as Sam Johnson would have phrased it,) we returned to take tea, when we were joined by half a score of English ladies and dandies, among whom I must have cut a pretty dash with my bobbed coat! I was at length relieved by the voluntary exit of the company, which gave me an opportunity of taking French leave (that is, no leave at all!) which I did with the

utmost expedition, and many resolutions not to accept invitations for the future, unless my dress was fashionable.

LETTER XXXIII.

La mer est le seul élément sur lequel les hommes ne puissent laisser de trace. Corinne.

"Roll on! thou deep and dark blue Ocean-Roll!

Upon the watery plain

The wrecks are all thy deed-nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd and unknown."

Childe Harold.

Liverpool, July 2, 1819.

THE bay of Dublin is very fine. To the right stands the Hough, a beautiful peninsula; to the left the Black Rock, which is adorned with several country seats, variegated with the most charming productions of nature. The pier stretches for three miles across the bay; at the end of this truly noble structure is a light-house, which guides vessels from danger during the night. My fellow-passengers in the Richmond packet were Dr. M'Cabe, two other gentlemen, and an actress of the Liverpool theatre; not to mention a medley of all sorts of va'grants in the fore part of the vessel. Shoals of miserable creatures,

"Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate ventures".

are perpetually pouring into the different English ports. The ease with which they get over in the packets and traders between Dublin and Liverpool, gives encouragement to this emigration; they are only asked half a crown a head-and they lay in no provisions-trusting to their cunning for a supply! When they arrive in England, they exhaust their ingenuity to make a livelihood, and when they are reduced to the last penny, they are conducted from parish to parish at the public expense, till they reach Liverpool; they are then crammed into the packets, and their passage is paid by the corporation of Liverpool; they are thus driven from the shores of hospitable Albion!

Before the evening of the first day we encountered a terrible storm. The lowering clouds soon gathered into a dark canopy over our heads; the lightning flashed and occasionally showed the sea trembling beneath the tempest. The roaring waves dashed with fury against our vessel, and sometimes rolled with sweeping violence over the deck. The agitated

sea

"Bared like a grave its bosom silently:

Then sunk and panted like an angry thing
With its own strength at war"-

Early in the morning, we descried a wreck, with its masts shattered, and its hold filled with water, which gushed out of the cabin

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