periods of calamity.  Yet, when the weavers on his estate were starving, owing to the cotton famine during the American war, his lordship never replied to the repeated applications made to him for help to save alive those honest producers of his wealth.  The noble example of Lord Derby and other proprietors in Lancashire failed to kindle in his heart a spark of humanity, not to speak of generous emulation.  The sum of 3,000 l. was raised in Lisburn, and by friends in Great Britain and America, which was expended in saving the people from going en masse to the workhouse.  Behold a contrast!  While the great peer, whose family inherited a vast estate for which they never paid a shilling, was deaf to the cries of famishing Christians, whom he was bound by every tie to commiserate and relieve, an American citizen, who owed nothing to Ireland but his birth—­Mr. A.T.  Stewart, of New York—­sent a ship loaded with provisions, which cost him 5,000 l. of his own money, to be distributed amongst Lord Hertfort’s starving tenants, and on the return of the ship he took out as many emigrants as he could accommodate, free of charge.  The tourist in Ireland is charmed with the appearance of Lisburn—­the rich and nicely cultivated town parks, the fields white as snow with linen of the finest quality, the busy mills, the old trees, the clean streets, the look of comfort in the population, the pretty villas in the country about.  Mrs. S.C.  Hall says that there is, probably, no town in Ireland where the happy effects of English taste and industry are more conspicuous than at Lisburn.  ’From Drumbridge and the banks of the Lagan on one side, to the shores of Lough Neagh on the other, the people are almost exclusively the descendants of English settlers.  Those in the immediate neighbourhood of the town were mostly Welsh, but great numbers arrived from the northern English shires, and from the neighbourhood of the Bristol Channel.  The English language is perhaps spoken more purely by the populace of this district than by the same class in any other part of Ireland.  The neatness of the cottages, and the good taste displayed in many of the farms, are little, if at all, inferior to aught that we find in England, and the tourist who visits Lough Neagh, passing through Ballinderry, will consider it to have been justly designated the garden of the north. The multitude of pretty little villages, scattered over the landscape, each announcing itself by the tapering tower of a church, would almost beguile the traveller into believing that he was passing through a rural district in one of the midland counties of England.’