Blackrock, Saturday.—Yesterday I took a delightful walk with dear M——. In our visit to some cottages, we met, as usual, with many interesting traits of character among their poor inmates. One of these was related in Irish to my companion by an old man. I do not understand the language, but I saw it affected and interested M—— so much that I requested her to tell me all about it.

She not only did so, but has kindly written the story for me. I will give it in her own words.

THE WIDOW MARNEY, OR THE EFFECTS OF PERSEVERANCE IN PRAYER

“The Lord be praised!” is an expression often repeated by the Irish peasantry, and is equally employed either to signify resignation under misfortune, or thankfulness for mercies received.

“The Lord be praised!” exclaimed the widow Marney, as she raised her tearful eyes to heaven, while her hands were occupied in adjusting the folds of a funeral pall over the lifeless remains of her daughter-in-law.

A deep groan was heard from a corner of the dark cottage.

“My son, my heart's delight,” said the widow, while an expression of care and deep anxiety clouded her features, which before wore the appearance of sorrowful resignation, and a peaceful acquiescence in the will of God—“My own dear Lawrence, do try to rouse yourself; come out o' that dark bed, and look on the blue sky, the clear stream; and see how the evening sun shines on the old church walls, and the tombstones shine like glorified spirits. Remember she is above; she is in a place where all is light and glory. Maybe she's now looking down upon us poor sinners. Ah! Lawrence dear, would ye cause her tears to flow?—but that can't be—all tears are wiped from her eyes. The blood of our Lord and Redeemer has purified her from all sin. Still I think 'twould trouble her to see ye grieve so, and neglect yer dear child, and murmur against the Lord's will. Come, rouse up—here's the priest and all the neighbours coming.”