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There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin;
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sighed, when at twilight repairing,
To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill.

"Sad is my fate!" said the heart-broken stranger,
"The wild deer and wolf to a cover can flee;

* But I have no refuge from famine and danger,
"A home and a country remain not to me.

"Never again in the green sunny bowers,

"Where my forefathers lived shall I spend the sweet

hours!

"Or cover my harp with wild woven flowers,

"And strike to the numbers of Erin gu

brath.

"Erin my country! though sad and forsaken,
"In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ;
"But alas! in a far foreign land I awaken,

"And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more!

"Where is my cabin door, fast by the wild wood? *Sisters and sires did ye weep for its fall?

"Where is the mother that looked on my childhood? *And where is the bosom friend, dearer than all ?

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"Yet all its sad recollection suppressing,

"One dying wish my lone bosom can draw:
"Erin! an exile bequeaths thee his blessing!
Land of my forefathers, Erin gu brath!

"Buried and cold when my heart stills her motion,
"Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean!
"And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with de

votion;

"Erin, mavournin, Erin gu brath!"*

* Erin gu brath, i. e. Ireland for ever:

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To some the mild enthusiasm, the ardent love of kindred and of country, expressed in these lines may seem inapplicable to the Irish character. But I can assure such that I have witnessed a considerable share of this even among the low and uneducated part of that people in London. When I spoke to them in their own language, their national enthusiasm was kindled, and for a while they seemed to forget that they were in the land of strangers. And though doomed to ignorance, penury, and toil, at home as well as abroad, yet, so fond are they of their country, and of every thing connected with it, that he who will talk to them in the tongue of their fathers, which they regard as sacred, and who seems not displeased with their customs, will be considered as their countryman and friend. The same strong local attachment, and love to kindred, I have observed, among that part of the population to which I refer in every part of Ireland. When I asked an Hibernian about his country, whether he had any inclination to go to America, where he might have as much land as he chose for potatoes, his answer, however many hardships he actually suffered, generally had the same import with the language of Ulysses.

Low lies our isle, yet blest in fruitful stores,
Strong are her sons, though rocky are her shores;

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And none, ah! none so lovely to my sight,

Of all the lands that heaven o'erspreads with light.

This extreme warmth of affection, this strong attachment to kindred, is very compatible with some degree of turbulence or even ferocity. Of the truth of this remark, the following anecdote affords a beautiful illustration: it is recorded in Leland's History of Ireland, under the reign of Henry the Sixth. O'Connor, the turbulent Irish chieftain of O'Fally, had alarmed the deputy by an inroad into the district of Kildare. He was surprised by Fitz-Eustace, and his troop put to the rout. The chieftain, in endeavouring to escape from his pursuers, fell from his horse; his son, the companion of his danger, stopped and remounted him; but unhappily the father fell a second time to the ground. A generous contest was now commenced between the father and son, which of them should be resigned to the mercy of the enemy. The youth urgently pressed his father to take his horse, to leave him to his fate, and to seize the present moment of providing for his own safety. The father obstinately refused; commanded his son to fly, and was quickly made prisoner.

How much is it to be regretted that a character whose principal constituent is warmth and

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tenderness of heart, should not be placed in circumstances more favourable to its happy formation, more conducive to virtue and happiness! It has seldom had the best opportunity for unfolding to advantage the fine qualities of which it is essentially composed; it has often been misrepresented, and abused, and persecuted. It cannot, therefore, be deemed surprising that it has many defects, which time, and education, and kind treatment, will remove.

In this short sketch of the character of an Irishman, I cannot omit fidelity to friends as a component part. It is the more necessary to make this remark, since this quality has sometimes been denied him. It has been said, that he is cruel and deceitful to a singular degree; that it is never safe to place any confidence in him, since he will always betray his friend, to purchase a small advantage to himself. In support of the first part of this charge, viz. his cruelty, we are referred to the religious and bloody wars of former times, and to the shocking murders and robberies committed in the present day. Now, it should be recollected, that religious wars are always cruel; it is to the disgrace of human nature that they have ever existed; and as this species of war is really repugnant to reason and common sense, the mind of man seems incapable of waging it without injustice and

cruelty. Besides, a people of ardent feeling, of strong prepossession and attachment, when very ignorant, and at the disposal of priests equally ignorant, but more designing, will be guilty of many atrocities which can never be considered as characteristic of their nature. With this consideration in view, the Irish in carrying on their religious wars, will be found, after candid examination, not to have been worse than their neighbours; especially when we advert to their many provocations. As to the more recent murders, they only prove that there is a larger share of public vice, arising from political and moral causes in their country than in ours; and this no one can deny.

But, it is also said, that the Irish are deceitful; that notwithstanding all their promises, they will betray a friend to serve themselves; and this is held forth as the general character of that people. No opinion can be more contrary to truth. Let them only be convinced, that you are their friend, and they will never forsake you; they will do their utmost to serve you. Were it necessary, I could refer to many instances in support of this assertion.

The truth is, the people of Ireland, (I mean the aborigines,) have for many centuries been placed in peculiar circumstances: they have

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