on slowly; a frame, enfeebled by mental agonies, is not moved without difficulty. I had sent my trunk on, in the wagon, to the city of Cork, where I purposed to take passage for England; and with my staff in my hand, I passed on, my eyes fixed on the ground, not wishing to encounter any human eye: It was with much difficulty, I attained the summit of a steep acclivity, where, spent and weary, I sat me down. From this lofty eminence, in full perspective, outspread before me, was the place from which I had departed; my eye eagerly ran over the whole scene. Upon a gentle ascent, directly opposite, embosomed in a thick grove of ash, sycamore, and fruit trees, appeared the loved dwelling of my mother. Behind this eminence, still ascending, was outstretched that garden, in which, with great delight, I had so often laboured; where I had planted herbs, fruits, and flowers, in great variety; and where, as my departure was in the month of June, they all flourished in high perfection. It was only during the preceding year, that I had added to my stock a large number of the best fruit trees, in the full expectation of reaping the reward of my labours, through many successive seasons. In those tall trees, the cuckoo, the thrush, and the blackbird, built their nests; and at early dawn, and at closing eve, I have hung enraptured upon their melodious notes. My swimming eye passed from the garden to the house; there sat my weeping, my supplicating mother, at that moment, probably, uniting with her deserted children in sending up to heaven petitions for my safety. I turned to the right; there towered the stately mansion, I was bid to consider as my own; there dwelt the matron, who hoped I should have been unto her as a son, and who had cherished me as such; there dwelt the charming young lady, whose virtuous attachment might have constituted the solace of my existence. The tear of sorrow, the sigh of disappointment, no doubt, bedewed their cheeks, and swelled their faithful bosoms: And, oh! I exclaimed, may the balm of peace, may the consolations of the holy spirit, be abundantly shed abroad in your hearts.
As thus, from scene to scene, my eager eye with tearful haste had wandered, my heart reiterated its unutterable agonies; and, as I considered my situation as resembling that of the father of mankind, when driven from the paradise, to which state of blessedness it was decreed he never was to return, I would gladly have laid me down and died: I would have given the world, had it been at my disposal, to have reinstated myself in the situation, and circumstances, I had so inconsiderately relinquished; but this was impossible, and this con-
