when apprized that his religion was the chief objection, he offered to become a Protestant. But nothing will satisfy him who is determined not to be pleased. An apostate was worse even, in the druggist's opinion, than a Papist, and be: sides, did'nt all the world know that Walsh was a Catholic name, and if he did read his recantation, would his old mother and all his maiden aunts: read theirs, and go to church along with him?

A short time after this conversation, the young gentleman was dismissed from his situation, and, with a slender stock of moveables, a light purséze and a heavy heart (for to the youthful heart the 1 first parting from what it loves is dreadful) pro i ceeded to London. He applied to several druggists for employment. The elegance of his appearance, and gentleness of his manners, would soon have procured him it; but some Irish idiom or phrase, some mis-pronunciation, betrayed him -some unlucky word was the shibboleth on which his tongue tripped and threw him.

"Take an Irishman into a laboratory, he would give the customers arsenic instead of cream of tartar, he would set the house on fire with oil of vitriol, to say nothing of the inflammation he would raise in the bosoms of wives and daugh ters."

The poor young man was beginning to despair, st when an elderly gentleman, an apothecary, took 37

The

pity on his disconsolate situation, and gave him employment. Mr. Walsh was in love, and was proud proud even of the country he found so much despised or rather thought so much despised, for he was, perhaps, under a mistake on this subject; an Irishman is not despised, in England, but rather dreaded. With an Irishman, an Englishman, by an unfortunate association, connects the idea of a dissipated, unmanageable, and turbulent being but when this idea is broken in upon, there is no person with whom he associates more freely and kindly. Yet still the Irishman labours under great disadvantages. Englishman is presumed deserving when he is almost unknown. The Irishman is presumed undeserving until the reverse is proved (it must be very fully proved) by his own good conduct. It is not wonderful, therefore, that teazed and harassed, he often breaks forth into impatience and violence, and that, rejected by respectable society, he is often to be found in low and worthless com-' pany. Mr. Walsh was not such a one. He was in love, as I said before, and formed no degrading connection. Where love is, no grovelling passion can exist. Swine was never the offering on the altar of Venus. He wished likewise to redeem the character of his country, wounded in its represen tative. He gave universal satisfaction, therefore, to the customers, old as well as young, to the el

derly lady who came to order her box of asafoetida pills to mend her health, as well as to the younger one who bought elder-flower water to mend her complexion. Many a servant maid came to the shop to purchase salt of tartar, to take out stains, in order to have a look at the handsome Irishman. ‚1%{ *{U

His employer was delighted with him, and treated him more as a friend and companion than a shopman. "I know not what to say of that young man," said he one day after he had been about a year with him, to his daughter—“ but I think, I love him as if he were my own son he -he is so like in person and manner as well as name my poor dead Edward,—I could almost imagine it was your brother.". The young lady blushed. It seemed as if she could also love him, though not perhaps as a brother. A few days afterwards the old gentleman called Mr. Walsh into the parlour and offered him his daughter (she was an only one) and a share of the business.

"I am poor," said he..

"You are rich," said the other, "for you have industry and integrity-at your age I had only those, and now have wealth beyond my wishes." "I am a Catholic," said the young man, "but

"That makes no difference," interrupted the liberal-minded old one," I have no objection to

the religion of a virtuous man. I prefer my own, because I think it has a greater chance of making

a man so."

"I was going to say," resumed Mr. Walsh, "that I am not a bigotted Catholic, and as I offered to renounce the persuasion I was brought up in, for the sake of the daughter of another employer, I should certainly not hesitate to do the same for your's. Religion, therefore, would be no obstacle were there not another insurmountable one."

"You refuse my offer then," said the other, in a sorrowful tone.

"My benefactor," said the young man, squeezing his hand, while the tears started to his eyesbut it would be an ill return to your kindness, to give your daughter my hand, while another has my heart."

He then gave him an account of his former attachment; and the old man listened to the tale, which overthrew the darling scheme of his heart, with an emotion which filled Mr. Walsh's heart with unfeigned sorrow.

Shortly afterwards he was called again into the parlour." After what has passed," said the old gentleman to him, with a friendly but sorrowful smile, "we cannot live together. But I must not turn you out of my house without giving you one of your own. It is in Dublin, to be sure, when

I had hoped it would have been in London-but act well your part as you have hitherto done, and the stage is of little consequence." So saying, he put two letters into his hand and left him alone. The first was a copy, it was dated London, and was addressed to TL, Esq. G Street, Dublin. The signature was the worthy apothecary's. It contained a succinct account of the late transaction in his family. "The young man," continued he, "to whom I would have entrusted my child's happiness, I must ever regard as a son-as such I solicit for him your daughter's hand in marriage, and have this day lodged the sum of three thousand pounds in his name, and for his sole use."

The answer of the Dublin druggist is so characteristic, that I insert it without abbreviation or alteration.

"SIR,

"Dublin, May 19, 1766. "I received your letter of the 12th instant, with what feelings of astonishment you will not conceive, for goodness is natural to you. I have heard of you as a man of integrity. I know you as a man of exalted benevolence. I am glad I know you-it will serve to keep me in good hu mour with the world, the worthlessness of which has often disgusted me.

"I will give my daughter to your son-I give her to him for her own sake; for the man whom