is pretty sure to have those of Pretension, as our sovereigns
once quartered those of France on their shields. But give me
the true heraldry that God blazons on man. The conscience,
spotless as a field "argent," the heart sterling as, "or" the brow
clear as 66
azure,” the cheeks ("the sinister and dexter chiefs")
ruddy as gules with health and good humour, the affections
verdant as "Vert," and no sable about him except it may
be a glittering dark eye of intellect. Give me such a one and I
will wear him in my heart of hearts, and do homage to him as
one of Nature's nobles. And let the herald's officers pluck him
down if they dare.

One fact, at least, with regard to us is certain. We came to Ireland with somebody or other, Strongbow, or Oliver Cromwell, or William of Nassau; and, for aught I know, we may yet have to go out with some other adventurer, migrating with broken fortunes to more promising regions, though hitherto we have contrived to struggle through the pestilence and the famine which the wisdom of God has sent upon us.

Somehow we have acquired the reputation of being humourists. Perhaps in our way we are so, If keeping ourselves aloof from the petty cabals and little feuds, the intrigues and jobs which occupy human nature even in the country--if having souls that rise above the contemplation of dogs and horses -though we relish field sports with the keenest zest-if cultivating tastes that lead us to seek for better mental food than is to be found in works on farriery or the racing calendar; if these things constitute humourists, then do our good neighbours stand fully acquitted of slander in so designating us. True, it is, too, that while we neither shun nor decline the social kindlinesses of others, we congregate chiefly amongst ourselves. And if our collision with strangers is not so close nor so constant as to rub off all the queer angles and salient points that form our family characteristics, we are all the more picturesque and sharp in our outlines, and can throw off such light as falls upon our more numerous if not more polished surfaces, for we contrive, by converse with some better spirits and more cultivated intellects to keep our minds from stagnating, and our rusticity from degenerating into clownishness. For myself, when I shut

to the door of my closet, and abandon myself to the pleasures of a choice book, or let my fancy go a-drift as she lists upon the stream of memory or speculation, I deem myself the happiest bachelor in creation; and if a pleasant friend drops in upon my solitude, to exhilarate me with his spirits, or illuminate me with his wit, or instruct me with his wisdom, I feel, if possible, happier still. Then I have the endless occupations which the ever-varying requirements of a country life bring with them. Preparing the earth to receive the seed within her bosom; then sowing in hope, and watching in trustfulness the mysterious and beneficent operation by which Nature works in our behalf,-seeing the clouds dropping their fatness and the winds drying our saturated soil; the sun warming and cherishing the young vegetable life; the dews refreshing the plants exhausted by the parching heat of summer. Then comes the glorious time when the earth yields her increase, when the kine luxuriate in the rich pastures, and the swinking mower is hidden to the knees in the deep meadows; and after that comes the reaping of the yellow corn and the gathering of the apples in the orchard; and then we bring home the sheaves and pile them in the haggard; then comes the broken wintry weather, when we turn to in-door work, and the muffled beat of the flail is heard in the barn, and the rattling of the winnowing-machine, as its revolving fans drive the light chaff in a dusty shower upon the wind; and so on to ploughing again.

THOUGHTS ON CHRISTMAS.

I WAS strolling one morning, a few days before Christmas, through my plantations, knife in hand, lopping off decayed branches, pruning irregular and excessive growth, and here and there consigning to the woodman's hatchet some dead tree, which, having now ceased to contribute its quota of ornament or utility, received its sentence-"cut it down: why cumbereth it the ground?" or dooming to a like fate some over-ambitious

denizen which struggled for an undue share of place and greatness in the woody republic, and crushed and bowed down its weaker companions, and robbed them of the free gifts of nature, the sun-light and the air of heaven-the juice and fatness of the earth-the dew and the shower. Then I fell into a train of musing, as indeed my wont is.

Truly, the man

who spends his life "exempt from public haunt," and converses much with others of God's creatures than his own species, will learn a lore that the dwellers in cities know not of. He will "find tongues in trees," and his spiritual sense will hear strange words that never fall on the ear of fleshwords of knowledge, of reproof, of correction, of instruction in righteousness, for which these scriptures of God, written on the tablet of the earth, are profitable, even as is that “ Scripture given by inspiration." I have somehow got the habit, as every thoughtful, solitary man does, of making companions of the insentient things about me. I love to endue them with thought, and to fancy that they understand my sensations, and I theirs. Thus I have my friends and favourites-ay, and my loves too. I have my harem of flowers,-beauties whose loveliness is not veiled from the light, but brightens and glows more and more in the sunshine-whose charms neither sate the heart nor vitiate the soul. I have my community of plants and shrubs, my aristocracy of forest trees; and much pleasure have I as I "consider how they grow." The flowers speak to me of joy, and peace, and love; and their odorous breath whispers of purity of soul. The low-lying brooms, the laurestinas spreading along the ground, the laurels and hollies, with their thick, trim, shining foliage of ever-enduring green, tell of humility, and the well-ordered beauty of holy living. The oak shows forth the fortitude that stands before the storm; and, like the martyr of old, bends not to tribulation or trial, though it will fall rather than bend. The pliant sallow admonishes me of that gentleness of spirit that will "give place unto wrath," bowing under the hand that buffets, and, as it rises again, showing no mark or memory of the smiter. The fir and the pine, green and warm when the trees around them are sapless and bare, spread their sheltering arms above some tender nurselings, meet remem

brancers of heavenly Charity. Then Faith has its representative in the ash, that strikes its roots deep and clingingly even into the rock; and Hope in the hazel, that drops its nut confidingly into the earth; and Patience in the slow-growing and late-matured walnut. And the tapering larch, that shoots right up to the light and the air, calls to mind the Piety of earnest souls that ever look and struggle up heavenwards. Have we not, too, trees that bear their fruit of righteous works, and others fruitless, but with their leaves abundant-mere professions and words of much promise; and the cankered heart, and the dead, withered branch, and the diseased or distorted limb, that must be cut off and cast away to insure the health or the beauty of the tree? If at any time I weary of the face of man, or chafe at his folly, I can betake myself to the woodlands, and hear the leafy things around whisper wisdom and truth as they bend their branches towards me, while I lean against their trunks with my book, and re-absorb the peace of God's nature :

"For where
I have my books,

I have old friends
Whose cheering looks
Make me amends

For coldnesses in men: and so
With those departed long ago,
And with wild flowers and trees,
And with the living breeze,
And with the still small voice'
Within, I would rejoice,

And converse hold, while breath

Held me, and then-come death."

A clattering of hoofs on the gravel attracted my attention, and I saw Uncle Saul's little post-boy "Shawneen," riding on his donkey at full canter down the avenue towards the house. I stepped forward to intercept him, but he flew past me with unabated speed, notwithstanding his utmost exertions to bring the beast to a stand-still. The animal, though but an ass, seemed to be a philosopher of the Baconian school, and having, according to the precept of his master, proposed to himself, in the commencement of his career, one great and final object, he

pursued it steadily without pause or deviation; and so having left his own stable with the fixed determination of reaching mine, he was indisposed to fall short of his purpose, no matter what pressing solicitations were used to induce him. At length, however, Shawneen, by dint of sawing the bridle with both hands, contrived to turn the donkey right round: but with change of direction came change of purpose, and accordingly he set off again, wriggling his tail and sticking down his head with the evident intention of returning to his own apartments. This I was determined to frustrate, so I seized the bridle as he was cantering by me, and in a moment or two our united exertions were successful. After a few graceful retrograde movements, not unlike the backing of a steamer when she reverses her paddles, the donkey swung round to his moorings beside me.

66

'Well, Shawneen, what's the matter ?"

The boy was too much "blown" to speak; but he pulled a letter out of his pocket and handed it to me. I opened the envelope, and in its folds were these words in my uncle's handwriting:-"Good news-read and return, S.S." The letter itself I perused with much interest: it was from my worthy godfather, Jonathan Freke, of New York, full of love and kindness: you can imagine the pleasure with which I read the following passage:- -"Notwithstanding the great prosperity with which God has blessed me, and for which I humbly trust I am not ungrateful, I always pine for the dear friends from whom I have been so long severed; and I have never seen the return of Easter or Christmas that my heart did not yearn after them, and the wish arise that I was sitting in your hospitable mansion, dear Saul, in the midst of all whom I love. But the home-sickness has of late grown so strong upon me that I can no longer support it, and so I am winding up my affairs, and will leave the firm to younger hands, while I haste away to sit beside your hearth at Christmas, and grow young again in the light of so many dear faces."

I despatched the boy and fell into a train of sweet musing. -Thrice blessed and happy influences of that religion which accommodates its ordinances to the nurture of our social