twenty-four Irish miles. The fare on the outside was 68. 6d. ; in the inside 8s. 8d. It carried ten inside, and I believe a still greater number of outside passengers. The coachman got 10d. from each of the former, and probably from a number of the latter; as many of them had in all respects the appearance of gentlemen. The people of Ireland have in this respect less vanity, or more economy, than the people of England. It is much more common to see gentlemen on the outside; and they mix at breakfast and dinner with the other passengers, without any risk of being objected to. The coachman was decently clad, civil, and attentive; he had none of the impudence of manner so common among his brethren in England, who now as generally assume the air of gentlemen, as the gentlemen do the air and look of coachmen. The coach, though not an elegant, was a comfortable vehicle; fully equal to any coach carrying the same number of passengers in England. I could only have wished it had been a little less musical-there was a good deal of loose iron work about it, which kept a jingling kind of sound, like Dr. Slop's instruments about the neck of Obadiah. I am as fond of musing as he was of whistling, and would have given something to a smith to have silenced this troublesome music.

I had an introduction to a shopkeeper in the town, on whom I called immediately after quitting the coach -I was received by him and his wife with the utmost civility. They insisted on my living with them, and even taking a bed at their house. Some poet has remarked that he always found "his warmest welcome in an inn;" this is rather extraordinary, as poets, in general, do not possess much of what gives men wel

come there. Had he travelled to Ireland, however, he would often, I am sure, have experienced the contrary. I devoted a part of this day to asking questions of my host, whom I found an agreeable and intelligent young man. I suspect, however, his answers, on some points, are to be taken, "cum grano salis." He is a Protestant, and a very zealous one of course, not partial to the. Catholics; to whose claims, of what is termed emancipation, he is a bitter enemy. He has the same idea of the superiority of Protestants over Catholics, that an Englishman has of his over a Frenchman: he piously believes that one Protestant is a match for two Catholics; and the consequence of this persuasion, which is common to the Protestants of Ireland, perhaps is that two are equal to three.

Drogheda is situated on the river Boyne, which carries vessels of 150 tons as high as the bridge of the town; inclosing within its old and ruinous walls the uneven shelving banks of the river on both sides. The two principal streets are large and handsome; but much of the ground within the walls is unoccupied by buildings, and the mud-walled cabins outside of these give no very favourable impression in the approach; though the spire of one of the churches is a conspicuous and beautiful object. Drogheda contains about twelve thousand inhabitants, and is a place of considerable trade, which must increase with the advancement of the inland navigation. It was formerly called Tredagh, and is a place of great antiquity. There are many ordinances in Prynne, in the reign of Edward the Third, by which it appears that it was even then of some note.

It is remarkable for the great battle fought near it,

in the year 1689, between the English and Catholic armies. It stood two sieges prior to this period, which reduced the walls to the ruined and shattered condition in which they now are. The first of these sieges lasted nearly three months; though the town was neither strong in itself, nor well supplied with provisions. It was at the commencement of the great rebellion, in the year 1641; and as it was the only barrier to Dublin on the northern frontier, it was placed under the command of Sir Henry Tichbourne, an active and gallant officer, who was ordered to use every possible means for its preservation. The Irish who, though very numerous, were, from their situation, unable to surround the town by a regular encampment, could not, with their utmost vigilance, prevent some supplies from getting into it. These being soon consumed, the citizens and garrison were reduced to great distress. Sir Phelim O'Neale, who commanded the Irish, made several attacks, but was repulsed. The garrison, inspired by the example of their governor, was determined to endure every extremity, rather than surrender a place of so much importance. One of these attacks was made in the night: some of the rebels had penetrated into the town, which was only preserved by an accidental circumstance, which is thus related by Sir Henry Tichbourne, in a letter to his wife: "God's workings," writes the pious warrior," are wonderful, and oftentimes, especially in matters of war, produce great effects out of small and contemptible means. This night, my man following me hastily out of my lodgings with my horse, the horse being unruly at the best, suddenly broke loose, and made such a noise in running and galloping madly upon the stones in the dark, that it put the rebels to a stand,

believing we were better prepared to meet them than in truth we were; and thereby afforded us something the greater leisure to entertain them, as by God's blessing we did." The town, however, must at length have surrendered, had not the Earl of Ormond arrived at the head of three thousand foot, and five hundred horse. On the news of which O'Neale instantly raised the siege, and retired into the north.

About ten years afterwards Drogheda was besieged a second time, when it experienced one of the most dreadful calamities which ever befel any city. The cause of royalism, which was completely subdued in England, was kept alive in some degree in Ireland, by the exertions of Lord Ormond: he had formed a numerous army, composed of Catholics and Protestants united together, not so much by their zeal for the king, as their dread of the common enemy the Puritans. An army composed of such discordant and heterogeneous particles had little principle of attraction, but much of repulsion; difficultly combined and easily separated, it could afford but feeble resistance against the parliamentary troops, whose courage was heightened by fanaticism, and directed by discipline. On the 15th of August, 1649, fifteen thousand men, with a formidable train of artillery, and all other necessaries of war, landed in Dublin, sent by Parliament for the chastisement of Popish rebels, and the relief of their godly brethren. Cromwell was the leader of this formidable force; he had contrived, by his intrigues, to be chosen Lord Lieutenant, by an unanimous vote of parliament. Having appointed a governor of Dublin, and adjusted such matters as required his immediate attention, he put his army in motion, and laid siege to

Drogheda. Ormond, being aware of this, had taken care to repair the fortifications of that city, to furnish it with necessaries, and a garrison of two thousand foot, and three hundred horse, which he placed under the command of Sir Arthur Aston, an officer of distinguished reputation. He had likewise strengthened his little remaining army, with which he advanced to the neighbourhood, to be ready, if an opportunity offered, to give assistance to the town. But these precautions were useless: Cromwell led his artillery to the walls, in which he in two days made a sufficient breach. The assault was given, and his men twice repulsed; in the third attempt, led by Cromwell himself, the town was gained: quarter had been promised to all who should lay down their arms; notwithstanding which, by order of their most inhuman general, the conquerors put the garrison to the sword, without regard to sex, age, or condition. The governor, and all his gallant officers, were massacred without mercy— mothers were butchered with the infants at their breasts, and the infants torn from their nipples and dashed on the floor. A number of ecclesiastics, of the Romish persuasion, were found within the walls. Cromwell instantly ordered his soldiers to plunge their weapons into these helpless wretches. For five days this hideous execution was continued, with every circumstance of horror: thirty persons only remained unslaughtered, by an enemy glutted by carnage, and these were transported to the island of Barbadoes. Ormond, in one of his letters, on the subject of this horrid scene, says, "The cruelties committed by Cromwell on this occasion would make as many several pictures of inhumanity as are to be found in the book