Mrs. Farran and yourself, under your own friendly roof, in Dublin and it has greatly damped the comfort I had in prospect, which only can be relieved by the hope that you and Mrs. Farran will give that society to Mrs. Oakley and my daughters in London, which you have robbed me of. Why did Why did you not say, a week ago, that I was likely to be disappointed; for, I assure you, nothing but the pledge I had given would have induced me, at this fluctuating time, to have left London but having given my promise, and being now on my way, I must go on, and probably shall go on to the Land's End; for I feel inclined, with the spirit of a giant, to tread the causeway, which none but gigantic spirits dare walk

upon.

I do not know whether I am not very angry with you; and fearing I should grow into passion, and lose all command of temper, I will, while I can, say,

I am still yours,

B. O.

To MRS. OAKLEY, TAVISTOCK PLACE.

MY DEAREST HANNAH,

Moira Hotel, Dublin, Sept. 25, 1819.

I AM now sitting in a pleasant room, looking into Sackville Street, having arrived here just in time to take my breakfast, somewhat fatigued with my journey, and choosing rather to acquaint you of my arrival previously to the indulging my curiosity with the inspection of objects, of which there are many here well deserving the notice of a stranger.

The absence of Mr. Farran presents a blank to the realization of what I had anticipated in the pleasure of

:

his company but he has, with his usual attention, paved the way, by requesting his friends to fill it up, and which has handsomely been done by a call which I have just had from Mr. Nowlan and Mr. Shaw, who have already given me a satisfactory confirmation of Irish hospitality, by inviting and insisting upon my dining with them to-day, at six o'clock.

As I have kept a journal of my route, I shall not attempt to describe it here; let it suffice to satisfy you that I am satisfied, and that I have little to regret in coming alone. What my plan of operations will be I cannot at present tell; but as I learn that the Kilkenny theatricals will not commence before the 11th of next month, I shall probably not stay in Dublin more than three or four days, intending to see as much of the romantic scenery of this island as my time will allow; but whether it be to the north or to the south, I have not yet determined.

I am anxious about our dear Adriana; and had the lively hope, when I arrived here, of hearing of her safe accouchement. Mr. Williams, no doubt, communicated to you the contents of my letter to him. I expect to be favoured with an answer to it before this reaches you.

You and the dear girls are present to my "mind's eye," although separated by mountains, rocks, and sea. Divide (reserving for yourself the better part,) my affectionate and unalterable love among you; and as I must avail myself of seeing what I can before dinner, excuse my saying more than that

I am ever yours,

B. O.

To W. COLVILLE, Esq. CLONTARF, NEAR DUBLIN. Moira Hotel, October 2, 1819.

MY DEAR SIR,

I ARRIVED from Kilkenny last night, and intend to fulfil the pledge I gave you, "if I breathed the air of Dublin," to dine with you to-morrow. I will do so, and shall avail myself of your kind offer, of being with you early, and of seeing " your noble bay to advantage." Perhaps you may see me at three, or four o'clock, at farthest.

I beg my compliments to your sister, and request you will remind her of her promise and her boast, that of "having fine butter milk, and that I should taste it."

HAVING finished my perambulations, and made three unsuccessful calls upon you, in the hope of personally making my acknowledgments for the kindness you have shown during my stay in Ireland; I cannot possibly leave it without offering you my sincere and hearty thanks for the cordial friendship I have received.

Believe me, my kind sir, that I shall ever feel a lively impression of your attention and did I not flatter myself that an opportunity may arrive, wherein I may shew my gratitude, I should feel oppressed with the weight of obligation I am under to you. I take my

leave with regret, and satisfaction; -regret, that I cannot prolong my stay; but satisfaction, that I have at least added one to the circle of my friends, whom I shall ever be proud of placing in the list.

It is now near the time when I expect the coach to arrive which is to convey me to the packet. Mr. Hammond, on whom I called this morning, led me to believe he will be on board: so you see, that although I am leaving the land of hospitality, I am not likely to be destitute of protection.

Ever and always yours,

B. O.

SIR,

TO THE EDITOR OF THE STAR.

Tavistock Place, October 9, 1819.

IRELAND, poor, oppressed, deserted Ireland! Why is it she is so neglected, slighted, disregarded, and abandoned? Why is it that endeavours are made to impress on the minds of Englishmen, that her sons are barbarous - their country wild- their manners rude and their habits vicious? Why are slight excesses blazoned forth to the world, their generous deeds thrown into shade, their exertions forgotten, and their valour unrewarded? How is it we are insensible to the greatness we owe to her, and to the valour of our fleets and armies, which, without her powerful aid, would have left us powerless? "Can such things be, and like a summer cloud pass off unnoticed?" Forbid it, HEAVEN! forbid it, reason! forbid it, gratitude!

I am led into these reflections from having lately been personally convinced of the error I have, like many of my countrymen, fallen into, that Ireland is not only

destitute of social comforts, but that even the attempt to be convinced of it was pregnant with danger. I was led to believe, that in Ireland it would be hazardous to explore its beauties, and unsafe to mix with its inhabitants; that it had only one lure, which, to the gross licentiousness of the drunkard only, could be in the least inviting; and that mental delights were banished from the land. Who, that has seen and associated with Irishmen, can subscribe to this? and who but those who have associated with them can judge of it? Let not then the credulous ear be open to the poisonous breath of defamation to the blasting censoriousness of malignant minds, who, with one general sweep, would consign to insignificance and neglect, a noble and a generous

nation.

A stranger in Dublin-no, I must not say a stranger, I should rather say, the stranger at home; for I had scarcely arrived half an hour, and made inquiry for my letters, before I was welcomed most heartily. I ought to premise, that a gentleman I went to see, but who unavoidably had been obliged to come to London, had anticipated my arrival, and informed his friend of my intended visit. This friend, whom I am proud to call so, with that liberality which is so much the characteristic of his countrymen, claimed the privilege of calling me his guest for that day; and an introduction to his table. lost me my freedom for several days following, for, literally, I was not suffered to go alone. The public buildings were, in their order, visited; short excursions from the metropolis were marked out; and my evenings passed in the society of elegant, well bred females, and intelligent men not that common-place conversation of unmeaning chit-chat about routs and balls, caps and