r motives, offer no opposition to so natural a desire on our part,
but will afford every facility in his power for being, as the war-cry
of the party has it, "broken up and destroyed."

[Illustration]

A NUT FOR THE KINGSTOWN RAILWAY.

If the wise Calif who studied mankind by sitting on the bridge at
Bagdad, had lived in our country, and in our times, he doubtless would
have become a subscriber to the Kingstown railway. There, for the
moderate sum of some ten or twelve pounds per annum, he might have
indulged his peculiar vein, while wafted pleasantly through the air,
and obtained a greater insight into character and individuality,
inasmuch as the objects of his investigation would be all sitting
shots, at least for half an hour. Segur's "Quatre Ages de la Vie"
never marked out mankind like the half-hour trains. To the uninitiated
and careless observer, the company would appear a mixed and
heterogeneous mass of old and young, of both sexes--some sickly, some
sulky, some solemn, and some shy. Classification of them would be
deemed impossible. Not so, however; for, as to the ignorant the
section of a mountain would only present some confused heap of stone
and gravel, clay and marl; to the geologist, strata of divers kinds,
layers of various ages, would appear, all indicative of features, and
teeming with interests, of which the other knew nothing: so, to the
studious observer, this seeming commixture of men, this tangled web of
humanity, unravels itself before him, and he reads them with pleasure
and with profit.

So thoroughly distinctive are the classes, as marked out by the hour
of the day, that very little experience would enable the student to
pronounce upon the travellers--while so striking are the features of
each class, that "given one second-class traveller, to find out the
contents of a train," would be the simplest problem in algebra. As for
myself, I never work the equation: the same instinct that enabled
Cuvier, when looking at a broken molar tooth, to pronounce upon the
habits, the size, the mode of life and private opinions of some
antediluvian mammoth, enables me at a glance to say--"This is the
apothecaries' train--here we are with the Sandycoves."

You are an early riser--some pleasant proverb about getting a worm for
breakfast, instilled into you in childhood, doubtless inciting you:
and you hasten down to the station, just in time to be too late for
the eight o'clock train to Dublin. This