HEATH'S PICTURESQUE ANNUAL.

THE Picturesque, under the management of Mr. RITCHIE, has hitherto possessed more of solid reality than the greater part of the other Annuals. The travels, as Mr. RITCHIE says him- self, have not been imaginary, but real tours ; and the infor- mation they have conveyed has generally outbalaneed the merely amusing portions, as legends, tales, and so forth. On the pre- sent occasion, he has dropped the light and trivial even in form; and Heath's PicMresque Annual for 1S38 is neither more nor less than a tour through the Northern and Western districts of Ireland, with sketches of the scenery, descriptions of the phy- sical and moral state of the people, allusions to the religious and political questions which agitate the country, and various dis- qui.tions on the subject of a Poor-law. We cannot altogether compliment Mr. Itucrun on this attempt to change the Annual nature, and to invest a book if the boudoir with a gravity of character opposed to the genius loci. It is not that his disquisitions are bad in themselves ; on the contrary, they are really valuable. It is not so much, either, that we feel them out of place ; for duller, heavier, and more remote topics, are often enough introduced into Annuals. But Mr. RITCHIE has allowed the ponderous gravity of political economy to stick to him when he turned from the subject. His pictures of scenery are often dry and hard—mere words unsuggestive of forms. His sketches of the people are too few, and his descriptions of their state too general—or at least too deficient in character : he wants the grace, the sentiment, the fulness, and the life whEch characterized that most charming and instructive book of the late Mr. INGLIS. He travelled, it appears too, against time, in bad weather, and late in the season : and what is more than all, he went over a road which has been thoroughly ex- hausted already. Still, Mr. RITCHIE is not the man to travel through any country, much less one like Ireland, and find all barren ; and, apart from the graver discussions—of which anon— there will be found many scraps of landscape, life, or observation, well worth perusing. Of these we select several.

EELFAST.

Belfast is rec' geed the third town in Ireland ; but, in a moral point of view, it is the first. Dublin and Cork are great cities, but they are strictly Irish cities ; while Belfast, if transported, with its population, to England, would be reckoned a credit to the country. Its intellectual character I consider decidedly higher than that of an English manufacturing town of the same importance ; while its buildings, if they do not pretend to the exhibition of taste, arc at least, to outward appearance, the abodes of ease and wealth.

The streets, generally speaking, are wide and well-aired; and the houses by which they are lined clean and respectable, although built of unstuccoed brick, as plain as a band-box. The suburbs, inhabited by "the hewers of wood and drawers of water " to the easier classes, have nothing of that filth and misery which are almost an unfailing characteristic of an Irish town. Every thing in and around Belfast proclaims that it is the abiding place of a shrewd and in. telligent population, devoted to worldly gain, and far from being unsuccessful in its pursuits.

This, of course, is a general picture ; for a town which has more than doubled its numbers three times within the last seventy years, must thaw con- Rant supplies of population from the country ; and to correct the habitual im- prudence and want of neatness observable in the Irish peasant, must be a work of tune. A considerable number of the masters, however, now provide their troth:en with lodgings ; and some of these establishments are clean and wholesome, and extremely neat.

It need hardly be said that the peasantry are not improved in morals by their transplantation from comparative solitude into a crowd ; but it is agreeable to kouw that a steadily progressing improvement in this particular is now going wit One of the surest tests of the extent of this improvement is the flourish- ing state of the Savings Bank. The gentleman who conducts the establish- ment informed me, that he could trace clearly, by his books, a gradual yet mind amelioration in the character of the people, and more especially in that of the females.

In the midst of all their business, the upper classes of Belfast have time to quarrel with each other as fiercely—but without the shillelagh—as if they tare at Donnybrook Fair. But what they quarrel about I cannot tell. To say that it is religion, at least the Christian religion, would be a manifest ab- surdity; and yet it somehow or other happens, that the belligerents always be. long to a (lament communion. No analogy taken from the position of the Church and the Dissenters in England can give the faintest idea of the motives of social warfare in Ireland. Religion and politics' no doubt, are the founda- tion; but as, in chemistry, two substances may produce a third totally diffe- rent in its properties from both, so religion and polities are the parents of an Irish something, which is altogether destitute both of piety and common sense. This something is only known In its effects—which are a monomania. When the morbid chord is touched, there is no pitch of insanity too wild, no depth of idiocy too humiliating, for the unhappy patient. I have frequently spoken with men in this condition, who were otherwise shrewd and intelligent, but whose conversation filled me at on with ishame and compassion. In Belfast such dissensions are nearly confined to the upper classes, or small minority of the population ; and the parties being nearly balanced in numbers, the contest is the fiercer. As for the lower classes, Catholic and Protestant are mingled in the same manufactory, and no difference is observable ; although an intelligent and accomplished Protestant gentleman told me he would prefer Catholic workmen. When the people get drunk, they, of course, quarrel and fight as usual ; and on these occasions religion is sometimes made use of as a party word.

IRISH TASTES IN THE TRADING WAY.

I had here some conversation with a party of commercial travellers, whom I met in the inn, which might enable me to draw some curious conclusions regard- ing the character of the Irish. The lower classes are so bigoted to their customs, that the goods requisite for one part of the country are unsaleable in another. For instance, there are no- white-handled knives to be seen south of a line drawn from Belfast to Coleraine; while to the north of that line there are none with black handles. Throughout the country, the knife which. shows the iron at the end of its handle is pre- ferred ; the other nut being considered sufficiently strong. The real Irish. knife, made on purpose for Ireland, is that awkward looking machine with a blade at either end. For other classes of society, the goods must be showy and cheap. It matters not for the quality ; fo. whatever may be the difference in this respect between any two articles, a difference of five per cent. in the price will determine the puichase. I saw an order to an immense amount for scis- sors, at the rate of sixpence-halfpenny per dozen ; the blades of which, in con- sequence of their not being tempered alike, would be useless in a week. Vast quantities of imitation silver, as might be expected, are sold in Ireland ; and I heard of a gentleman giving twelve pounds for an article which in genuine silver would only have cost twenty pounds. Here it would be difficult to say whether poverty and vanity, or want of forethought, were the most in fault ; since the materials of the one, after it had finished its service, would have been worth in money the whole price of the other when new.

CHOLERA AT SLIGO.

The Asiatic pestilence, which raged sonic years ago in Europe under the name of cholera, threatened to depopulate Sligo ; and the precautions which it became necessary to observe by, the surrounding country, almost deprived the inhabitants of every gleam of hope. A line was drawn round the devoted town, beyond which there was no escape ; and those who attempted toffy were driven back, as if into a grave. Nothing was heard in the streets but sounds of lamentation and despair. Even the plitentinena of external nature served for omens and predictions of evil. Some dashes of lightning. had heralded the approach of the angel of the pestilence ; but during his sojourn, a heavy cloud brooded over the town. Nut a ray of sunshine was visible by slay, and note star by night. At this juncture, men naturally reverted to those feelings of religion which before were dimmed or deadened by the seductions of the world ; and every hour of the day they found the Refuge open for their admission, and the ser- vants of the sanctuary at their posts. Catholic, Protestant, Dissenter—all were alike the ministers of God. On this great day of judgment, there was not one priest of any denomination who shrunk from his perilous duty. Wherever their presence was required, there they took their stand—at the foot of the altar, at the bed of the dying , at the side of the new-made grave. Every heart confessed that death was not the toaster, but the agent of the dis- pensation; for, rising high above the sound of his footsteps, as he passed through the houses, came a voice from the many- portalled temple of the Lord Jesus Christ, proclaiming, " Come to me and I will give you life! "

During the pt.riod of this visitation, only one clergyman—a Baptist minis- ter—lost his life ; while the physicians of the body were nearly all swept off. Besides these two classes, the authorities of the town did their duty well and bravely. Mr. Fausset, the Provost, rode in every morning from the security. of his country-house, with as great regularity as if all had been well, to visit the hospitals, bury the dead, preserve under in the streets, and take his seat as President of the Board of Health. In spite of his uurelmxiog labours, he one morning, on reaching the town, saw the grounds of the Fever Hospital covered with unburied corpses ; and then, as he expressed it to me himself, he felt as if the end of the world were indeed come.

The Board of health consisted at first of twelve members ; who were rapidly diminished to seven. Nearly their whole duty at last was to grant coffins and tarred sheets for the dead bodies, and to see that the stock of those materials was kept up. One day, two poor little boys came to beg a coffin for their mother ; and the Provost, struck by their forlorn appearance, asked why their father had not come, who would have been better able to carry it? " We buried our father yesterday, Sir," was the reply.

hat isit IGNORANCE.

A gentleman, as my informer told me, commiserating the condition of the people, who patiently endured the pangs of hunger when the sea before them teemed with wholesome and delicious food, purchased a boat for the purpose of making an experiment. He invited some of the most destitute among them to accompany him to the &hitt; ; promising, in return for their share of the labour, to give them a due shame of what they caught. They refused to labour without wages; and, after in vain endeavouring to make them comprehend that his offer was such better than the ordinary rate of payment, he added to the chance of the fishing a day's wages. On this they consented. The fishing was completely successful ; and, in addition to supplying their families with abunslanc of excellent food, they made some money by selling what remained. This was all their benefactor wanted. His experiment had succeeded ; fur it had convinced the people that they were able, by their own iudustry, to make a comfortable ruin independent subsistence. " I lend you my boat," said he, " till you are able to purchase one for your- selves. Go, and make a gond use of it : be industrious, and be happy."

" Ant the day's ?eves?" cried they.

" The day's wages !" Argument was vain : they demanded a day'swages as before, and would not stir without. Their benefactor gave up his attempt in shame and sorrow; and the unhappy savages returned to their hunger and their despair.

REGULATIONS OF DUBLIN CANAL BOATS.

" First Cabin.—Wine sold only in pints or half-pints ; and not more than one pint to each person. A noggin of spit its, or half a noggin of spirits and half a pint of wine, allowed to each gentleman after dinner or supper-time ; such allowanee of spirits not extended to ladies, or wine or spirits to children under term years ; nor is the allowance of wine or spirits of one person, without his or her express desire, to be transferred to another.

" Second Cabin.—No more than two bottles of porter, ale, or cider, or one bottle of any two of them, allowed to each mad; passenger, and one of any of them to each female, throughout the journey; and any passenger bringing liquor into the boat, and using it, to forfeit his passage."

THE SHANNON.

In sailing from Shannon Harbour, the river acquires a new and interesting character. It is still indeed a swamp, but very beautiful. Everywhere islands appeared rising just to the line of the water, and displaying a surface hardly

discernible from it, except by the hay-ticks which proved their fertility. By and by, the islands were thickly clothed with wood ; and as the vessel wound between them in narrow and intricate passages, I might have imagined myself

in the wilds of the New World. The trees appeared to spring from the deep, for the low baoks were completely submerged. /3efore, behind, and around us, were these floating clumps of foliage ; and vistas opened here ane there by our aide, showing other islands, and a further expanse of deep and tranquil water. I do not know that, in viewing natural scenery, I have ever felt emotions more new and more delightful. The romantic associations that are suspended while the world is present, come back upon the heart; and I felt that I was enjoying the reality of a dream. LIMEItIc E.

Newtown contains the quays, the storehouses, the great shops, and the dwellings of the more affluent. It consists chiefly of one very lung and very wide range of streets, with short diverging ones, and a square now in progress, with a monument to Mr. Spring Rice in the centre of its Melo:tire, which is laid out in walks, like the squares of London. The houses of the principal streets are like those of Belfast, nothing more than right.aogled brick boxes, without any pretensions to architectural taste; but the streets have a better effect than those of Belfast, from the circumstance of the houses being loftier, generaliy of four storks, not including the sunk area ; hut, owing to the lofti- Less of the apartments, the height, I should think, of five stories of a good London house. A few 'houses in the new square I have mentioned ate finished, and one of them is let at 1201. a year, the Lghest rent in Limerick. Many of those, however, in the fashionable part of the principal stieet are 100/. a year. The taxes amount to seven or eight per cent. on the sum at which the houses are rated, which is here, as elsewhere, below the meal rent. The city contains hardly any very wealthy people; few with incomes above a thousand pounds a year, although many approaching that sum. But, though the inhabitants, therefore, do not belong to the class of those who world be called wealthy people in London, there is a great deal of pretension in their way of living, and an air of f ishiou in their appearance, Odell is not surpassed in Dublin. The streets swarm with jaunting-cars ; and this is nut surprising in a pl see where everybody considers himself entitled to the distinction of keeping

one who possesses an income of three hundred pt unds a ye or who calculates on being able to spend that urn from the ilotits of Lis trade. Almost Leery person of the slightest pretensions to respectability keeps a man-servant; and this can more easily be done, since the wages of such domestic rarely exceed

eglit peuuds a year, except in great houses, where somvtinies ten pounds are it von.

While talking of this porting of the community, I must notice the reputation for female beauty enjoyed by Limerick for at least two centuries. I have no

hesitation in saying, important us the topic is, I think the repoeition is justly en- joyed. I saw a much greater number of beautiful faces, its proportion to the size of the town, than is usual ; and even in the shops I think the average is very high indeed. On a Sunday, Limerick presents a fair spectacle in every sense of the word ; and the Catholic churches, not telly of Limerick but of all Ireland, exhibit far more of the devotional picturesque than you find in most countrite, of the Continent.

THE LtisEltaT01: 3Nri THE The Agitator iu private life, is said to be a good, liberal, hospitable man. Politics ale banished from Lis Ode, where men of all parties are received with the same cordial warmth. 'Notwithstanding this, be has more personal ene- mies than any other roan in Ireland ; a citemustance whirls appears to me to imply a great want of that tact which should distinguish a political lender. Lola Mulgrave, on the other baud, although detected by certain party-men for his

politics, is rarely passed over, even by them, without a good word. Ile has the art of ingratiating himself as an individual, even N% bile DirrIlltil,g as a pub- lic man. A friend of mine, whose politic, ran so high that he declined being instrumental in giving the Victroy a public dinner, would sheet fully have be- stowed three hundred and sixty. five dinners upon Lord Mulgrave. The reason, no doubt, was that his Lordship, instead of boring the worthy Provost with un- welcome topics, walked through the town with him, commenting on the num- ber of pretty girls they passed. There is no doubt on toy mind that Lord Mulgrave is the best fitted fur his post of all wen who ever held it.

With regard to the more general and important speculations, Mr. RITCHIE conceives that no improvements of any mod will suffice to benefit Ireland without a Poor-law which shall give des-

titution a right to relief in the workhouse. As regards the amount of the numbers likely to claim this b„on. he differs con-

siderably from the received opinion. The mendicity of the Irish, be conceives, has been considerably overrated, through strangers sot drawing a sufficient distinction between occasional and pro- fessional beggars. The latter, he says, seem more numerous than they really are ; for they ore only found in great towns, or where public conveyances change horses ; and here they are the pest of the passengers, who readily fancy every suspicious- looking group, in rags such as an Englishman however poor would hardly pick oft a dunghill, to be of the same kind. In reality, however, they are not. The occasional beggars never ap- proach the rich mati's door—rarely beg of a respectable-looking person ; but confine their soliciirtions to the cottage of their equals, who may be in their case a short time hence. And these people, driven to temporary mendicity by some temporary evil, Mr. RITCHIE conceives would never submit to the confinement of a workhouse, but struggle on as best they might. So that, though the number of persons needing occasional relief be as large as is stated by the Reports of the Poor-law Commissioners, it is by no means to be inferred that all who want it would take it subject to regulations so irksome to the national character, and which are found almost unbearable by the better-trained and more self-controlled Englishman. In saying that at present they are supported by the nation, Mr. Itercitis: only reiterates an often-urged and self-evident argument ; but when he says that the support is drawn altogether from the poorest class, whilst the rich entirely evade it, he makes a point worthy of rioting against the time when the question is again brought forward, though the point itself be not quite new. The great reason with Mr. RITCHIE, however, for urging a Poor-law which should give a right to some kind of relief to all who might claim it, is, that in Ireland there is an impotence be- sides that of age, infancy, or sickness—the impotence of a life of idleness, or starvation, or both combined. If work, whether pri- vate or public, were offered to persons of this class, they could not avail themselves of it, either from weakness, or the lassitude of long laziness : yet if private charity be extinguished by a Poor- law, these persons must be left to perish. Without asserting that Mr.. RITCHIN is positively right, and without deciding whether some partial ill must not be borne with in the struggle to remedy such a gigantic evil, it cannot be denied that he states his views with power. After shrinking from a description of the condition of the poor its Limerick, he continues--.

Mr. Inglis, after giving a few instances of what he saw himself, observes, that with such scenes before him, it did seem to be an insult to hums. nity and common sense to doubt the necessity for a legal provision for the Irish poor. But, unfortunately, the individuals who doubt this, never had such scenes before them. Their argument is this: " The ilestitute in Ireland are either those who cannot get employment, or those who are too unwell to labour. All we have to do, therefore, is to provide work for the idle, and erect hospitals for the sick." Can any thing be fairer ? Can any thing seem more consistent with reason ? Very. well : let us create employment ; let us build hospitals. And now, let us go into the recesses of Limerick to work miracles.

" Ho, ye sick ! come forth and be made well." And the sick come forth, Or are carried forth, and are sent straightway to the hospitals.

" Ilo, ye idle ! come forth, for here is employment." And the idle come forth and begin to work joyfully. But still the cries of hunger, and the inours of helplessness are heard issuing from the damp cellars of Limerick. What is this ? Have they not heard our proclamation ? Bring them all out. Here it one before its who, from the number of his fellows, may be taken to repressut a class.

Why do you not go to the hospital? " "Because, I am not sick."

a Why do von not work?"

"Because I cannot."

" Of what do you complain ?" "Of hunger, which, trout long continuance, Lae taken away my strength I have no sickness, yet I cannot work till I get well. This cotton rag, which was once a part of my wife's gown, is all I have far clothes in the world." " Is this your wife? Tell us, woman, why you do not %yolk." " Do you not see my two infants, both tugging at the same moment at my exhausted breasts ? What eau such as I do to yetur railways and canals? " "But we have employments more fit for your sex and feebleness." " Then you must send me to school to learn then ; for I guess your anaemia:. tories will not pay unprofitable servants. I never learnt to work except in the fields."

But the colloquy is interrupted by a disturbance. A inae has thrown Lee his spade, and refuses to continue his task. " Of what is it you complain ?"

"Of having too much to do." " You are an idle, ungrateful reprobate."

" I am just half of that, and always was. I have been idle all toy life, and have never dared even to hope for full employment. I lave lounged about the streets, and basked in the sun, from my childhood up; and I would still be contented, if it it could still be obtained, with the handful of dry potatoes earned every now and then by a little start of labour. But, Gud bless you, do nut think me ungrateful! I ant sure you mean well; but you do not know us. There are some among us, as you see, who labour like horses; but what are those to do who have the habits of a lifetime to conyier &fore they set to ia earnest? You discharge me because I cannot work like the rest. Very well, I must go back and starve in my cellar ; but du not you, with all your piety, expect to perform miracles in Ireland." It may be inquired, whether I mean that workhouses should be established for the support of the idle; and 1 reply, that they should be established for the purpose of putting down idleness. Until thea, beggary, that grand evil of Ire- land, cannot be repressed, for you must give the beggar an alternative. The alternative cannot be einployinslit ; for in that case the beggar would not, and perhaps could not work bard enough to earn his subsistence. There must be something to fall back upon in all emergencies. There must be a woe oirouse ; and that workhouse must be ou such a principle as to render it an efficient test of destitution.

I have talked, on several occasions, with some doubt as to the utility of Mr. O'Connell's schemes ; but this must be con-idles:it entirely with reference to the concerns of the peasants. This is not a political work ; and, without sufficient elbow-room for argarnent, I would pas.; no opinimi, favourable or un-

favourable, on merely political questions. This I may say, however, that the Poorslaw project—opposed by :sir. ()Toone:I—is the only great measure which has hitherto been brought forward for even the ostensible purpose of benefiting proximately the mass of the Irish nation.