lion broke out soon after, and proved a scene of bloodshed and cruelty on both sides fearful to hear of. Our visit to Ireland was ten years after the conclusion of that terrible civil war, and though it only lasted eight weeks, the country was but just recovering from its consequences, and every family had its tragic story to tell of peril and suffering. My father was never tired of hearing them, but they harrowed up my feelings so much that I rather avoided them, and have but few laid up in my mind. I do, however, remember being at a country residence, where one of the family, a girl of my own age, told me that her parents narrowly escaped assassination by the defeat of the rebels in a fight near their place. A man servant, who had faithfully served them many years, was observed to be much disturbed; he was seen shedding tears, and going continually to the gate, at the end of their avenue, to look out for news from some passer by. When questioned, he would not tell what troubled him; but before night, news came of the defeat of the rebels, and then he cried for joy, and told his master that he knew of the impending battle, and that the rebel leader intended, if victorious, to come there and murder the family and take possession of the house. When asked why he did not warn them of their danger, he said he could not, without breaking his oath as a United Irishman.

I also remember being shown a man who had been dead and buried three days, but came to life again, and told me his own story. He was a loyal man of Eniscorthy, and wandered heedlessly into the camp of the rebels, on a height called Vinegar Hill, near the town. He was shot by a sentry for not having the countersign, his body was thrown into an old ruined windmill, and a little earth thrown over it. His wife, hearing he was killed, sent a request for his body by an idiot well known in the town. Being refused, she then went herself, taking the idiot with her to help carry her dead husband. She succeeded, after much importunity, in getting possession of the body, and carrying it home. As they took him up a narrow winding stairway, his wound pained him, and he uttered a groan, which so frightened them that they let him fall, and that shock revived him. His wound was dressed, and he recovered to tell the story to every one who would listen to it.

Y

CHAPTER XIV.

MISS EDGEWORTH.

My last chapter on Ireland recalls another

tour in that country, made with my hus band, twenty years later in my life. We arrived in Dublin, accompanied by a young friend, and sent off our letter of introduction to Miss Edgeworth, with one from me proposing to spend a day with her, if convenient and agreeable. To this we received the following very gracious reply:

EDGEWORTHTOWN, September 3, 1836.

DEAR MADAM: I hasten to assure you and Professor Farrar that we feel highly honored and gratified by your kind intention of paying us a visit. Mrs. Edgeworth desires me to say, that we shall be at home all next week, and we shall be most happy to receive you, and your young friend Mr. W, any day after the fifth which may be most convenient to you. We say after the fifth, because on the fifth my sister (Harriet), Mrs. Butler, and her husband, the Rev. Mr. Butler, will come to us, and independently of the pleasure they will have, I am sure, in your society, 1

own I wish that you should become acquainted with them, especially as we are unlucky at this moment, in not having any of my brothers at home. My brother-in-law, Mr. Butler, is, as you will find, a man of literature and learning, besides being all that you will like in other respects, from the truth and rectitude and simplicity of his character.

I am much obliged to you for the letters you were so good as to enclose to me. Of all our friends in Boston and Cambridge, we shall, I hope, have time to inquire further and to con

verse.

There was only one thing in your letter which did not give us pleasure; and we trust that after your arrival, and after you have had some hours to reflect, and a night quietly to sleep upon it, you will repent and recant, and give up your cruel purpose of giving us only one day. Mrs. Edgeworth will remonstrate with you, I think, more effectually than I can, and in the mean time I promise to allow you till the morning after your arrival to become sufficiently acquainted with the ways of the house and family, before I turn to you, as I shall (I warn you) at breakfast, for your ultimatum.

I am, dear Madam, (for the present,)

Your much obliged and grateful
MARIA EDGEWORTH.

P. S. It must increase my interest in making your acquaintance, my dear Mrs. Farrar, to know that you are sister to Mr. Benjamin Rotch, whose talents I with great reason admire, and for whose kindness and agreeable letters I have equally great reason to be grateful.

The cordiality and frankness of this letter made us all desirous of visiting the writer. We were much struck with the manner in which Mrs. Edgeworth was mentioned and made of importance as the lady of the house, when the whole place was the property of Miss Edgeworth, and she was at least thirty years older than her step-mother. Mr. Edgeworth had been dead several years, and his son had become so embarrassed in his affairs as to be obliged to sell his patrimonial estate; and to prevent its passing into the hands of strangers, Miss Edgeworth had bought it, and made her step-mother mistress of the establishment, whilst she lived with her as a daughter. They were on the very best terms, each admiring and loving the other. Another member of the family was Mrs. Mary Sneyd, a very aged lady of the old school, and sister to Honoria Sneyd, who refused the hand of Major André, and became the wife of Richard Lovel Edgeworth. The unhappy fate of the gallant Major is well known; but few persons now living ever read the monody