ON MY VISIT TO AN IRISH CABIN.

I had well nigh gained the foot of the mountain, when I heard the barking of a dog, and a young voice urging on the animal; when turning round I saw a girl, about eleven years old, driving two goats and a kid through the heath. I spoke to her, but she seemed not to understand me. At length, shrinking aside, she cried out, "Joey" and beckoned to a boy of about thirteen years old, who was driving a poor little cow the same way. He soon came up, and we entered into conversation, nearly as follows:-"Well my boy, how far am I from the high road?” "The road, is it sir?" he asked. "Yes, the road to the town." "I don't know, indeed sir," he replied. "Can you read, my boy?" "I do not, sir; I spell a little." "Can your father read?" "He does not, sir." "Can any one in your family read?" "Indeed not one, sir." "Would it be a great thing for you if you could read?" "I don't know, sir." "If you could read, you might be able by and by to keep a school, or do something to get an honest and comfortable living; perhaps, do a little for your father and mother. Would you not like that?" 'Why then I would sir." "Did you never go to school? you did, I suppose as you can spell." "I did sir, and liked it well. I was herding cattle for Mr. Dalby, near Tuam, and used to go now and then to a

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school which was on the mountain. It was put up by an English gentleman in Tuam." "Did you ever see me at that school?" I did, surely; and your honour gave me a halfpenny for having clean hands and face." "Did I? Well there is another for having a clean face now; and there's one for Kitty." "Increase your honour," said both the little things. "Ah Kitty," said I, "you can speak English then. Why did you leave the free-school Joey?" "The priest wouldn't allow

me to go sir."

"Why not?"

"He said we should be Palatines, and send our souls to the devil."

"Does

your father believe that you would go to the devil by reading the word of God, and learning to be a good boy?" "He does not, sir; but he would come to harm if he should vex the priest; we should all be cursed, and he would not prepare my father, or mother, or any body belonging to us." "The great God," I said, "would bless both your father and mother and yourself if you were to read his word and obey him; and you would not need any preparation if you loved God, and God loved you. You have heard of Jesus Christ the Son of God and the Saviour of poor sinners, havn't you?" "I don't know, sir," replied the boy. "What,” said I, "did you never hear that the Son of God once came to our world and died on the cross to save sin

ners from hell-fire?" "Sure enough, sir, I did hear about the sign of the Cross and the Virgin Mary." A total ignorance of all religion was evident in the little

fellow, and proved that he had heard nothing upon the subject at home. As the poor creatures had become cheerful and walked a little confident, we chatted away while we walked towards a little cabin about half a mile from the place at which we met, and I embraced the opportunity of imparting to the youthful pair the first principles of religion, especially dwelling on the fall and depravity of man, the character and the claims of that God who is holy, just, and good; and the allsufficiency of that Saviour, the Son of God, whose blood cleanses from all sin. I took occasion especially to press upon the little fellow the error and sin of certain Oaths which he sometimes uttered during our conversation, and so much in use with the peasantry of Ireland, in affected reverence for that sacred name which it is forbidden to profane. In a few minutes we arrived at the home of these poor creatures. It was in a flat spot near the foot of the mountain, and at the outlet of the Glen. A mixture of earth and stones composed the materials of which it was made up, not to say built; the roof was a kind of thatch work of rushes and potato-stalks, bound by straw ropes, which were thrown across at distances of ten or eleven inches, with a stone of six or eight pounds weight put at each end to preserve this frail covering from the effect of the wind: an opening of about sixteen inches square served for a window; and an old basket, stuck on the top of the rude chimney, served partially to carry off the

smoke. The whole was rather like a mound of earth, which had been dug up for the shelter of cattle, than a human dwelling raised by the art of man.

As we drew nigh to the spot, I saw a poor woman behind the cabin scouring a wooden pail at one of the mountain streams, to whom the little girl ran and showed the halfpenny, at the same time directing the attention of the mother towards me. "Bless your honour; long life," she observed. "May he grant the the same to you, maʼam,” I said; "why you are nearly out of the world here." "Indeed, indeed, sir,” she answered, "poor people have not much to do in the world." It began to rain, and we walked into the cabin the inside of which was much cleaner than the outside promised. The cow and the goats had a part of the house for themselves; and over them a couple of hens were sitting to rest upon a stick of the roofing. A poor man sat near the turf fire, who was surprised to see me, and answered my salutation with "good morrow kindly, sir; that's a dreary place for your honour to be." "And a dreary place for you to live in;" I replied. "It's better nor we deserve," said the poor "Will your honour please to sit down. We have a poor kind of seat; I wish it was a better." "Thank you," I said, "I am well satisfied." I talked of my walk up the mountain, and spoke on several local subjects, which introduced the history of the family. They had seen better days; a fever found

woman.

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The man

way into the household, which at length seized the father at a bad time with his affairs; a hard landlord took away their cattle, and issued an ejectment, which not only threw them into immediate distress, but increased the illness of the father, and brought on trouble after trouble. "It did what people told us," said the poor woman, we would have sold our cows before my man was taken ill, and put the money in our pockets; and he should have been in jail awhile, and begun the world again. But we wished every body to have their own, and do no harm to nobody." "And be sure," said I, "that they who walk uprightly, walk most surely; for the word of God tells us so." took off his hat, saying, "may be, sir, you're a clergy." I am not a Roman Catholic clergymen, but I am a scripture reader and I hope a servant of Jesus Christ; I love my fellow-creatures and wish them all to be happy both here and hereafter." "Spare your honour long life," said he, "if every one was like you sir."-"We are all," I replied, "unprofitable servants; too fond of this world, too thoughtless about our souls, and the love of God in sending his Son to die for us." "That is true sure enough; your honour must be a happy man." "Why, thanks to God," I rejoined, "I am not unhappy. I have some cares; but I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, the Saviour of sinners; who tell us to cast our care upon him for he careth for us. I know that this world and all that is therein