at all, in advance of the least prosperous dwellers in the most remote parts of Ireland which I have visited.  They furnished their full contingent to that strange American exodus, which, about a quarter of a century ago, was led out of New England by one Adams to the Holy Land, in anticipation of the Second Advent, a real modern crusade of superstitious land speculators, there to perish, for the most part, miserably about Jaffa—­leaving houses and allotments to pass into the control of a more practical colony of Teutons, which I found establishing itself there in 1869.

Since 1870 a change has come over New Hampshire.  The population has risen to 346,984.  In places waste and fallen twenty years ago brisk and smiling villages have sprung up along lines of communication established to carry on the business of thriving factories.

What reason can there be in the nature of things to prevent the development of analogous results, through the application of analogous forces, in the case of “congested” Ireland?  A Nationalist friend, to whom I put this question this afternoon, answers it by alleging that so long as fiscal laws for Ireland are made at Westminster, British capital invested in Great Britain will prevent the application of these analogous forces to “congested” Ireland.  His notion is that were Ireland as independent of Great Britain, for example, in fiscal matters as is Canada, Ireland might seek and secure a fiscal union with the United States, such as was partially secured to Canada under the Reciprocity Treaty denounced by Mr. Seward.

“Give us this,” he said, “and take us into your system of American free-trade as between the different States of your American Union, and no end of capital will soon be coming into Ireland, not only from your enormously rich and growing Republic, but from Great Britain too.  Give us the American market, putting Great Britain on a less-favoured footing, just as Mr. Blake and his party wish to do in the case of Canada, and between India doing her own manufacturing on the one side, and Ireland becoming a manufacturing centre on the other, and a mart in Europe for American goods, we’ll get our revenge on Elizabeth and Cromwell in a fashion John Bull has never dreamt of in these times, though he used to be in a mortal funk of it a hundred years ago, when there wasn’t nearly as much danger of it!”

DUBLIN, Sunday, June 24.—­“Put not your faith in porters!” I had expected to pass this day at Castlebar, on the estate of Lord Lucan, and I exchanged telegrams to that effect yesterday with Mr. Harding, the Earl’s grandson, who, in the absence of his wonderfully energetic grandsire, is administering there what Lord Lucan, with pardonable pride, declares to be the finest and most successful dairy-farm in all Ireland.  I asked the porter to find the earliest morning train; and after a careful search he assured me that by leaving Dublin just after 7 A.M.  I could reach Castlebar a little after noon.