disfigured as they were by the commentators, the mind of youth had been for ages kept in the most servile subjection. Following the example of our philosopher, most of the instructors of youth turned from the old systems of Corydalæus and others to explain the opinions of the moderns. The Logic of Bulgaris, especially after the publication of the author's edition at Leipsic in 1766, became the common text-book of our schools, and was taught throughout Greece with distinguished success, particularly at Turnavo in Macedonia, by the Reverend Professor John (Economus. The immense acquirements of the author have enabled him to display a peculiar tact in this book, where he has introduced examples drawn from different sciences, calculated to excite in the youthful mind a thirst for general information. Thus, many sciences formerly unknown in Greece, have been introduced under the pretext of illustrating obscure passages in the Logic of Bulgaris. Many Greeks still living, and well known in the literary world, are indebted for their reputation to this celebrated work, the study of which first called forth the latent energies of their mind; and it is sufficient here to mention the opinion expressed by Coray, in his work "On the present state of Civilization in Greece," published in 1803:--" Eugene Bulgaris was one of the first whose efforts effectually contributed to that moral revolution now in operation amongst us; and it is with particular satisfaction that I pay my share of the tribute of gratitude due to him by the nation, as I shall never forget the emulation excited in my young mind by the publication of his Logic, to which I owe the little knowledge I possess." The advantageous offers made to Bulgaris by the Empress Catherine induced him to settle in Russia, but not until he had left to his countrymen, besides his Logic, his works on Physics and Metaphysics, written in ancient Greek, with a number of pupils to teach in their schools. During his residence in Russia, where he was nominated Archbishop of Cherson, he published several theological works, and, by express order of the Empress, translated the Æneid of Virgil into elegant Homeric verse. He died at St Petersburg in 1806, deservedly regretted by his country and his friends. After his death, the jealousy excited in the minds of some, by his talents and reputation, was speedily extinguished, and the well-earned tribute is unanimously rendered to his memory at the present day, and will be so for ever. It is interesting to observe, in perusing the biography of this great man, that by his introduction into Greece of those improvements in philosophy to which Britain has so essentially contributed, the latter has been enabled, in some degree, to repay in kind the advantages derived by her from the precious monuments and examples of classic lore, handed down to her and to the modern world by the ancient sages of the former, THE RESTING-PLACE OF THE DEAD, WAITING FOR THE LIVING. By W. M. Hetherington, Author of "Dramatic Sketches, illustrative of the Pastoral Poetry of Scotland." HERE rest the Dead! in silence rest- Of this lone spot, thy final home! While vain life's busy dream swept past; Art thou a Chief of daring breast, Is thine the flaring meteor-crest That bursts through battle's lurid sky? O, warrior! doff thine eagle-plume, Thy comrades wait thee here. Art thou a King, an Emperor, one His panoply, and bares his sword? Art thou a man of loftiest mind, Statesman, philosopher, or bard? One whose great soul can only find In native worth its high reward? Oh! pluck the bright wreath from thy brow, And leave it in the hall of fame! Here wait the glorious dead, each now The shadow of a name! Art thou a youth of gentle breast,— And haunted with fantastic dreams? Dreamer! the partners of thy fate, Subdued by Death's, not Cupid's dart, Thy coming here await. Woman! young mother, tender wife! Fair angels of the happy hearth! Thou, too, bright blooming beauty! thou, That cheek of spring-dawn's loveliest dyes,Oh! veil those charms! they too must share, Alas! the universal doom; The beauteous dead, where are they? where? They wait thee in the tomb. Here rest the dead! waiting the hour, When the last sob of living breath Of that grim phantom-dreaded Death. And call them to His home! CHRISTMAS IN THE WEST INDIES. "CHRISTMAS comes but once a-year," and it is right that this should be the case. Were such Saturnalia both the old and the young children every-day occurrence, would soon sicken, like boys in a sugar-barrel, or a man condemned to read nothing but Hood's Puns for a month. But as it has ever been my maxim, that it is preferable, in telling a story, to dive at once into the middle, as an alderman would his spoon into a basin of turtle or mulligatawny, I shall begin with my tale, and not with my. self. It was Christmas Eve, and I lay lolling on my sofa, with a basket of delicious shaddocks glistening like gald beside me, tempting the eye and delighting the palate. down and opened his jaws, which stretched right across the rocks! No sooner did Paramore see this, than he out with his box of poison and threw it in the water, above where Cucullin was drinking. The giant swallowed the whole, and then lay down on this bank to sleep. He tossed TMa about, tearing up the earth, but soon sickened, and died. Paramore then rushed upon him, and taking out his knife, cut off his head, which he carried home to make his people believe that he had killed him in battle. They buried the great giant where he lay, and put some large flat stones over his grave, with one huge one at his head, and a lesser at his feet. And so, my young lady and gentleman, that was the end of Cucullin the great giant. Paramore killed him, you see, as Squire O'Niel got his lands, by cunning; for cunning is a match for either strength or wisdom, since it lost all of us the garden of Paradise." Martin rewarded the garrulity of the old sibyl with a piece of silver, which she clutched within her bony and shrivelled fingers, pouring out thanks to both; blessing the fair face of the young lady, and praying that the "elegant young gentleman" might "win and wear a gold watch as big as a forty-shilling pot, with a chain as long as the Boyne water." "A genuine Irish hyperbole," exclaimed the lady; "but let us not read fortunes in the twilight. It bodes ill, you know, Judith, and see, the sun is fast descending."-Hand ein hand the youthful lovers then left the vale, forgetting the lingering superstitions of the land in reveries more delightful; for, in the beautiful language of Coleridge, I WISH-I wish that thou couldst sing! I wish I wish that thou couldst sing That thrill'd into my bosom's core. There's more than language in thine eye, Thy heart is pure as it is warm ; Yet still I wish that thou couldst sing The songs that charm'd me so of yore; For round thee then my thoughts would cling, And my whole soul would love thee more. Ah! dearest, he who once has dwelt, May in some careless mood forget- But never, never in him dies The blessed memory of the past; She, whom I loved, is now to me Yet still in music she is mine, In many a sad and simple air; How feeble when compared with her! Mere types-like flaunting flowers that grow Above young beauty's sepulchre. And yet, methinks, if thou couldst sing, Perchance 'tis better as it is, I love thee, sweet, for what thou art; And she, midst life's realities, Rests as a dream within my heart! MY TWO GREAT-GRANDMOTHERS. By Robert Chambers, Author of " Traditions of Edinburgh," " "Histories of the Scottish Rebellions," &c. &c. EVER Since I can remember, I have been the fondling and protegé of old people. I was altogether nursed in the laps of great-grandmothers, in whom I was singularly fortunate, having no fewer than two, who survived, with entire health and intellect, to the period of my early youth. Of mothers I knew nothing, for mine died when I was a mere child; and even of grandmothers I had comparatively little experience, my paternal one having died ere I was born, and the other being at feud with my father, who had offended her dignified ladyship by marrying her "right honourable daughter." It is to greatgrandmothers alone that I look back with reverential gratitude for the little real knowledge I possess, and the boundless treasures of traditionary gossip with which my mind is now stored. Well do I remember their rich, stiff, flowered silk-gowns, of which the posterior plaits were daubed with greasy hair-powder, perhaps half a century old! Neither can I forget the profuse and voluminous angularities of their old lace-caps, or their long, graceful waists, their plump amber ear-rings, and their fine old seventeenth-century faces! I had a country great-grandmother and a town greatgrandmother. With the first I was most familiar in my childhood, ere I had left my paternal dovecot-like castle in Clydesdale. She was a lady full of old family ballads and local legends of the "riding times," of which I even yet remember a vast number of unmeaning fragments, which I would not exchange for so many whole volumes of modern poetry. But my memory does not retain such fond remembrances of this great-grandmother as of the other; for it so happened, that her affections ever were divided between me and a certain race of remarkable bantams which it was her pleasure to rear, and feed regularly four times a-day, and which it became my particular pains to annoy with pebbles and the town-colleys regularly all day long. True, I sometimes was coaxed by the good old lady into granting an indulgence for a given time to her feather-legged favourites, by the seductive promise of the long ballad upon my knightly ancestor, the friend of Bruce, to be that night recited for my particular edification; and while I listened to her low voice, which very feebleness made more plaintive, crooning the monotonous, but simple and touching measure of that wild and singular tale, my heart was softened towards her, and I inwardly vowed never again to throw so much as a handful of gravel at either cock or hen of hers-no! nor pursue them across her elaborately soilless washings, as they lay bleaching or drying by the water-side in the holm,-nor ever to excite her consternation by proposing to throw myself in the way of horses and carts, as they rattled along the road,-nor to risk my little frog-like person upon the broad back of Tam Bo, the mill-aiver, even though the miller might ask me to water him! All this, and more, I would half resolve while the spell was upon me; yet, somehow or other, I never (then nor since) could contrive to keep a resolution longer than till the opportunity occurred of breaking it; and so, after peaceably permitting myself to be transported bedward by Nurse Jenny, and lulled asleep, though only seven o'clock, with the song of the Lariston worm-fit afterpiece to my relative's tragic ballad-I usually awoke next morning no better boy than ever, and, like the washed sow, fell to, as stoutly as ever, to the great business of the day -laying waste the barn-yard of all its bantams, insulting the aristocratic feelings of the turkey-cock, clinging to the heads of cart-horses (all in my great-grandmother's sight), and taking rides wherever, and upon whatsoever horses, I could get them. "blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe!" and her ladyship and many others shuffling with feet, and coughing as if they would have fainted, wi a Highland veteran, who had lost a hand at Cullode clappered upon the desk to admiration with its iron s stitute, not one word of the bishop's benediction up his most gracious Majesty was heard by a single indir. dual present. One old door-keeper, or other official, wi had certainly lived since the skulking days of good Biste Forman, felt so indignant at the conciliatory spirit tan evinced by modern pastors, that he rose from his e and walked out till the prayer was over, and I have bec informed that he continued to do so for several years, or a long as he lived. My great-grandmother was quite enchanted with th energy and success of my "blast ;" and when we got ä the carriage, caressed me without mercy, till the title ting grains which I drew up from her muslins, made me both cough and sneeze in good earnest. I was high complimented, too, by many of her ladyship's unqu culous sound I had produced quite as good a hit at the Bishop Abernethy, as that which had that day befe Mr Alexander Allan, the clergyman of the neighbouring chapel, where a jacobite maniac, called Laird Robertsn. rose from his seat on hearing the prayer for the royal f mily, shook his stick in the minister's face, and a claimed," De'il but an ye had the hale pack o' them a the bottom o' your stamack, Sanners!" This bad conduct of my juvenile years prevented me from ever being upon thoroughly good terms with my country great-grandmother, and, I believe, had the effecting friends, who declared that they considered the ridof losing me the legacy of her inconceivable treasure of crown-pieces, (the profit of sixty years' good spinning,) which, according to the belief of our domestic, she kept in three large wechts, and brought out of doors every Sunday forenoon, while the rest were at church, to air in the sun! Peace, however, to her ashes, and peace to those delicious bread-and-butter days, of which the dear recollection is so closely associated with her memory! She was ever kinder to me than I deserved, and her. This ludicrous exploit of mine, I am convinced, sarei wecht-fulls of crown-pieces were perhaps, after all, better bestowed upon my poor far-away cousin, young Blawi'-ma-lug, who, by their means, went to college, and afterwards became an acceptable preacher of the word. My remembrances of my town great-grandmother are much more unqualifiedly beatific. With her memory is associated the delight I experienced on first approaching and residing in the romantic and (to me) wonderful city of Edinburgh, the transport with which I alighted at ❘ her magnificent door in Teviot Row,—the kind reception which she gave me,--and the great progress which I immediately made in her favour, to the evident death of her ladyship's huge Tom cat, who took to his rug soon after ‚my arrival, and, in spite of his mistress's attentions and assurances of unabated esteem, never more caught mouse or combed whisker in this sublunary world. I also remember, with feelings of great pleasure, being taken for the first time, in my lady's carriage, to what I then thought a splendid Episcopal chapel, in Skinners' Close, her ladyship being of that persuasion, as her father, the great persecutor of the second Charles's time, had been before her. It was a somewhat singular occasion; for the nonjurant clergy had that day determined, in consequence of the Chevalier's death, to pray publicly for the king de facto, and a great part of their congregations had, on the contrary, resolved to cough and snuffle down the detested innovation. My great-grandmother was of this way of thinking, and went with the avowed purpose of setting her face against what she conceived to be a base concession to the powers that were; while I had instructions to contribute my nose (none of the shortest) and throat to the good cause, as, she said, the testimony of babes and sucklings was sure to be of account upon this occasion. On entering the chapel, which was in the topflat of a house at the bottom of the close, I was so entranced in admiration of the altar-piece and furniture, which it is needless to say were humble enough, that I could not have mustered breath for so much as a sneeze though my life had depended upon it. But towards the conclusion of the service, when the abhorred words came to be pronounced, I had quite regained my composure, and was fully prepared to justify the calculations which my lady had formed respecting the powers of my nasal organ. When she gave the preconcerted signal, therefore, I me good three months of the High School, at which a class attendance of four or five years to come, was the occasi of my father placing me under the protection of my tow great-grandmother-this constituting a great proportion of the education of young country gentlemen of my time. Her ladyship, out of fondness for me, and anxious to have more of me to herself, wrote to my father that it wa absurd to think of placing so little and gentle a boy s I (for I had made myself a perfect lamb to her) among such a parcel of bears as the High School boys, who were then the very terror of the town; though, when I was afterwards placed in the "gaits' class" of this renowned seminary, I must confess that, with my robust, rustit strength, I found no difficulty in licking all the boys the length of Cornelius Nepos, and even had one or two drawn battles with some so far in as Cæsar. I had now succeeded in completely ingratiating myself with my great-grandmother, and was almost constantly in her society. She did not keep much company; før. in truth, all the friends of her early days had died away from around her, and she could not accommodate herself to the new fashions and feelings of those younger persons who might have aimed at succeeding to them in her esteem. Neither did she stir much out of doors; and as for employing her time in reading, that was entirely out of the question, for she had not the least taste for polite letters; and, as it had not been the fashion for young ladies in her time to study aught in the shape of books, saving the Bible and the Shorter Catechism, she considered it a duty to persist in rejecting all less severe modes of mental exercise and improvement. I was almost her only companion, and when I was not with her, she would sit. silent and alone, for whole forenoons, upon a high-backed elbow-chair in the parlour, looking out at the large round stones of the old Town-wall, which fronted her windows, her strange black eyes wide open,-her noble old figure quite erect, her neck enveloped in a white plaited ruñ, like that in which the old Countess of Mar (the preceptress of James the Sixth) is painted, and her long bony arms, half-shrouded in black silk mitts, hanging listlessly over the lateral projections of her chair. What was the tenor of her cogitations, or if she thought at all, on these occasions, I never could discover. I have come quietly into the room unheard, approached her person, and even, Frae Paisley town to Spitalfiel's The very bairnies changed their cheer, O, thy warst crime is yet to name, An' laith am I to say it, For thou hast brought our land to shame, Now let the cocks o' Calvin craw, Hae got their backs set fairly; Faith thou hast gien them baith a fa', For a' their blausts an' barming, And left them caulder coal to blaw Than thou hast done the farming. Fareweel, thou auld sneckdrawin' jade! For gift whilk nane could marrow, ENGLAND AT THE CLOSE OF 1829. THERE'S muttering on the quarter-deck, Ere the storm has ceased to blow. The coxswain swears the jury-mast A scud is gathering o'er the waves, The sky looks thick and brown; And they all prate on, nor lend a hand, Though the gallant ship go down. While steering through a laughing tide, But if they growl when the tempest raves, We've smote the foremost man of earth, When Europe, leagued against us, came, In vain did Holland's arrows fly, The Russian bear might suck his paws, The God of Battles bore us up, We triumph'd in his might; Who strive against Him aye must be The vanquish'd in the fight. Then steady, boys! 'tis all a jest, THE LEGEND OF THE RIVAL GIANTS-AN IRISH TRADITION. By Robert Carruthers, Editor of the Inverness Courier. WESTWARD of the high hills near the Bay of Dundalk, and skirting the woods of Ravensdale, a stream winds onward to the sea, its banks garnished with villas, cottages, mills, and bleaching-greens-a fair and fragrant landscape that like a garden smiles, and scents the seas, -its cultured beauty blending with the wilder graces and luxuriance of the soil. By the side of this romantic stream, one fine, cloudless afternoon in August, a delicate youth and female, neither of whom appeared to have seen twenty summers, were wandering in silence, their eyes frequently turned to each other with alternate glances of youthful vivacity and half-subdued tenderness. Stopping at one of the loops or bends of the river where a narrow stream is drawn off for the supply of a distant mill,-"Methinks," said the young lady, “so gallant a youth as Martin O'Connor might step to the assistance of a poor damsel, with only this rude plank interposed between her and the waters."-" Even so, fair maiden," rejoined the youth, stepping to her side, "let us clear this dangerous pass," and snatching up his fair companion in his arms, he placed her in safety on the other side of the rustic bridge. "Know ye not," resumed the lady, "that we are now in the land of faery? This sheltered woodland, where the verdure is marked with rings of fresh and vivid green, has for ages immemorial been the haunt of the aerial visitants of earth, and many a tale is told of the gentle sprites that print the greensward on the long, dewy, moonlight evenings of summer. Yonder ruined convent, too, has its legendary story. There dwelt, in other times, a holy man, now blessed and canonized, whose sole employment it was to tend the poor, and speed their souls to heaven. Over this fountain, in whose basin he would stand barefoot at sunrise, and repeat his psalter, his spirit, it is said, still hovers, and pours the balm of comfort into the souls of weary pilgrims." "Rosa," replied Martin, "seest thou yonder high hill -the hill of Foughart, with its circular mount, fallen church, and sunken graves?—there, under a nameless stone, sleep the ashes of a hero—of the hot and valorous Edward Bruce. He died in battle, his friends lying in heaps around him, and his royal brother's ships, too late to save, riding proudly in the bay. One hour more, and they would have gained the beach-another struggle, and the day might have been won. Yet I would not, Rosa, exchange the dying thoughts of this warrior, though full of sorrow and despair, for the godly fame of the fairest priest that e'er told beads in monastery, or shrived the passing soul." "A hero, a very hero!" rejoined the young lady, laughing, a Nial of the Nine Hostages! Thou shouldst have been a soldier, Martin. But 'Peace has its victories no less than war;' and surely he who communes with the spirit of God in these calm solitudes-who tends the sick and destitute, and takes the sting from death, is worthy the blessing of "The young and beautiful," interrupted the youth. "Thou art ever right, Rosa. One touch of truth and nature dissolves the illusions of romance, as the blessed sunshine dispels the gloom and phantoms of the night," "Shall I go on with my description?" said the lady; "for I see the grave of Cucullin the giant, and in yonder chasm his mighty rival, Paramore MacShaudeen, threw the poison" "Which Cucullin swallowed as he stooped to drink at the waterfall," added Martin. "I fancy I know it all. But let us hasten to the spot, for our traditional storytellers, like the monks of old, have a taste for the picturesque." The scene of the giant's death is, indeed, a wild romantic spot. A ledge of craggy rocks extends across the river, intercepting its progress, and forming above a deep, dark, waveless pool "The torrent's smoothness ere it dash below"from which the waters are precipitated in one unbroken sheet, white and flowing as the tail of an Arabian steed. A tremendous cavity, hollowed out of the dark-grey rock, with several smaller cells or receptacles of the same rugged material, receive the agitated element below, whence it again rises to the surface of the stream, a few yards distant from the fall, bubbling like a boiling cauldron. The outhanging banks are covered with light feathery birches and shrubs, waving in all the rank luxuriance of nature, their thin tops bending and dipping in the stream, and forming a delicious shady retreat for the yellow-speckled trout and salmon, which are seen darting above the glassy surface of the pool. that somebody was in the bed, he asked who was the Only my youngest child, the blue-eyed urchin that a fairies ran away with last holly-eve,' replied Mech Ha,' said Cucullin, he is a fine tearing boy; has b got any teeth?' and he put his hand under the blanke Paramore getting his finger in his mouth, almost bit e the top of it, when Cucullin roared out, If your me be as strong in the jaws as your children, the devil his self cannot come near them!' “Molchy then handed him a large cake of bread wa the iron girdle baked inside of it, which when Cornic discovered, he asked what it was put there for. 'My ha band,' says the wife, 'always has his bread prepared e as he must have something solider than common bread ir his meals.' Cucullin, not to be behind his rival, made. shift to eat it up, when Molchy said, 'I wish my hu band was at home, for the wind blows straight again. the house.' • What would he do, if he were at home?" said (tcullin. 'O,' replied the cunning wife, he would just his arms round the house, and lifting it up, turn the back to the wind!" 'Well,' said Cucullin, I'll try what I can de;' he turned round the whole house, with Paramore an Molchy and all." "No, no, Judith," interrupted her auditors; “ the will never do; why, it is worse than the cake and th girdle." "Now," said Rosa," that we have gazed our fill upon the scene, shall I tell thee the legend which our wonder- "Smile on, my jewels, smile on," rejoined the old w loving peasantry relate of the rival giants? But stop-man; "but it's all true. The old times werent i I see a better chronicler approach, for yonder comes old Judith, whose tales and predictions are, among her compeers, precious as the Sibylline leaves." As she spoke, the village prophetess, a grey-haired, withered beldam, apparelled in a tattered red cloak, under the hood of which her keen black eyes shot forth significant glances, joined the youthful pair, and accosted them in a mingled strain of courtesy and freedom. Acquainting the aged dame with the subject of their discourse, Judith agreed to satisfy their curiosity, though not until, like the high-born lady in Marmion, she had parleyed with yea and nay," and coquetted as if loath to exhibit before her wondering and admiring auditors. these, bad luck to them, when a body might as well le exported to the bosom of Africa. But you'll see whe became of him. Well, the giant then enquired the way to the stock-farm, but instead of directing him right, the wife told him to go across the mountains next Johnsburgh, and enquire on the other side. As soon as he was gett Paramore started up, and taking with him a big knife, a bag of salt, and a box of poison-the deadliest in Christendom-he set off by a near way for the farm. He so met with the great giant. Who are you?' asked Cucullin. 'I am a herd that minds the cattle of my master, the mighty Paramore MacShaudeen.' Where is your master?' He is out behind the mountains, a great way of hunting with the giants that live on the other side. What does he get for dinner when he hunts hereabouts?' 'O, he just takes hold of a bullock, and after slaying it he kindles a fire and roasts it, eating one half himself, and giving the other half to his huntsmen and herds.' "Once upon a time," began the crone, in the true Milesian story-telling strain-" once upon a time, many hundred years ago, when all this country round was nothing but grazing land, and the people that lived along the banks of this river subsisted by feeding cattle, and selling them to the upper farmers and squires, there lived a great giant called Paramore Mac Shaudeen, whose house was on the top of Foughart Hill yonder, where you see the walls of the old church. Well, Paramore was the strongest man "Then I shall do the same,' said Cucullin, and he rushed in all the country; he could take ten men by the scruff forward, and caught hold of a young bullock. Paramor of the neck, just as you could take a rat-barring your got hold of one of the horns, as if striving to prevent him; presence, Miss Rosa-and shake their heads together. He and Cucullin pulling at the other, the poor beast was soc conquered all the people round, and took their cattle, keep-rent asunder. They then kindled a fire with the branches ing the owners as herds to tend them. In this way he lived for a long time, until one Cucullin, another great giant that lived in the south country, heard of our Paramore, and came to fight him. Now, before George, my young lady, this Cucullin was the greatest man in Christendom, for when he fell asleep, it took ten men to wake him. Paramore having heard that Cucullin was coming, laid his schemes to kill him if he could, and sent all his herds out behind the mountains, that they might be out of the way. When he saw the great giant coming, he ran into the house, and told his wife how to act. He then went and lay down in his bed, covering himself up with the blankets. In came Cucullin, like the side of a hill, and asked, with a voice like a war-trumpet, if Paramore MacShaudeen the giant was at home. No,' said Paramore's wife, he is gone to the plain where the cattle are grazing; but come in, and get some refreshment.' He crept into the house on his hands and knees, and seeing of a tree which they pulled down, and Cucullin ate the half, Paramore giving him plenty of salt. Cucullin thes leapt from one mountain to the other and back again, sveral times, by way of exercise after dinner, when he felt very dry and wished to drink. He asked Paramore what his master did when he was dry. O,' said the other, he goes down to the river to a place which I shall show you, and drinks of the stream.' Down they went to this sweet wild fall, where I have stood many a time and oft. casting fortunes for the poor folks; more by token. I must see Pether Beartha (toothless Peter) in his cot over yonder; for Peter has been canted up by the squire for his rent, and knows not how to turn himself. Here, said the sly Paramore, 'my master stoops down and opens his mouth across the fall, letting not a drop pass till he is quenched; and I have heard him say, there is not another man in Ireland could do the like.'-' Ay,' said Cucullin, but you may tell him there is;' and so saying, he laid |