MR. LEVER'S O'DONOGHUE.

" TnE O'Donoghue" is the head of an ancient decayed family, whose inheritance, dissipated by successive heirs, has dwindled away through process of law into the possession of a dilapidated old castle. To this scarcely habitable ruin, surrounded by estates that have either become the property of strangers or are on the point of falling to the mortgagees, the O'Donoghue and his family cling tenaciously, as the last relic of their departed grandeur, and cherish the pride of their high lineage the more fondly for that poverty has left them little else to boast of. Towering above a wild and lonely glen near the sea on the South coast of Ireland, the old castle is a conspicuous feature in the romantic scenery around ; and by the neighbouring peasantry the O'Donoghue, though no longer their lord, is regarded with something of feudal reverence and attachment. The tale opens with the unexpected arrival, in this remote district, of Sir Marmaduke Travers, a rich London banker, the present owner of the estate, with his lovely daughter ; both full of benevolent schemes for im- proving the condition of the tenantry, and prepared to view them in the most favourable light. The wretched tenants, prejudiced against their English landlord by the arts of a crafty agent, Captain Hemsworth, frustrate all the plans of Sir Marmaduke, and practise on his mistaken benevolence ; while by the O'Donoghue the rich banker is regarded with jealous aversion. The rescue of Miss Travers from a mountain-torrent by a son of the O'Donoghue, and the recognition by young Travers, a handsome Guardsman, of Kate O'Donoglme, a young beauty fresh from France, bring about an interchange of friendly courtesies between the two families ; in spite of an angry rencontre between the English officer and Mark, the eldest son of the O'Donoghue. This Mark O'Donoghue is the hero of the tale ; and a type of that class of proud, dis- contented, reckless, daring spirits, who, under the banner of the "United Irishmen," plotted rebellion and sought success from French invasion. The perils and escapes of Mark from the treachery of the agent Hemsworth and the bullets of the English soldiers, terminating in his reception on board the French fleet in Bantry Bay, are the most exciting adventures.

The incidents, so far as they relate to public events, are such as may have occurred in Ireland "fifty years ago" ; but the sentiment is less of that time than:of our own : the author views the past through an atmosphere of the present ; and the vivid impressions of scenes and persons that have passed under his own eyes contrast with the fainter outlines of remoter ideas derived from books.

In the present work Mr. Lever has exchanged the slapdash helter- skelter pace of his military and hunting adventures for the steady step and sober march of a compact story : his style is more solid, and its closer texture has taken a higher polish. He appears to have emulated Scott in the management of the narrative and the introduction of persons : both have more completeness and consistency than heretofore. Sir Archy Mliab, the Scotch kinsman of the O'Donoghue, is a capital character ; and others of less mark are distinguished by individual as well as national traits. Hemsworth is one of those ubiquitous villains of all work so useful to novelists, who manage all the mischief and are killed off when done with ; but Sam Wylie, the sly sub-agent of the estate—Kerry O'Leary, an old servant of the O'Donoghue—Lanty Lawler, a knavish horse-dealer—Mary M‘Kelly, the hostess of a wayside inn—as well as the O'Donoghue himself—are consistent with their characteristics; which are elaborately depicted, perhaps with too minute a touch for striking and animated effects. The scenes are described with the author's usual force and gusto ; but these descriptions run to too great a length for extract. A humorous dialogue between the cunning wag Sam Wylie and Sir Marmaduke Travers will suit us better.

AN ENGLISH LANDLORD AND HIS IRISH SUB-AGENT.

er Sweeny," said Sir Marmaduke—" Roger Sweeny complains of his dis- tance from the bog; he cannot draw his turf so easily as when he lived on that swamp below the lake; but I think the change ought to recompense him for the inconvenience."

"He's a Ballyvourney man, your honour," said Sam, placidly; "and if you couldn't bring the turf up to his door, and cut it for him, and stack it, and carry a creel of it inside to make the fire, he'd not be content." "Oh that's it, is it?" said Sir Marmaduke, accepting an explanation he was far from thoroughly understanding. "Then here's Jack Heffernan—what does this fellow mean by saying that a Berkshire pig is no good?" -"He only means, your honour, that he's too good for the place, and wants better food than the rest of the family." "The man's a fool, and must learn better. Lord Mudford told me that he never saw such an excellent breed, and his swine-herd is cue of the most experienced CI fellows in England. Widow Mtd—Mul--what ?" said he endeavouring to spelaan unusually long name in the book before him—" "Mullahedert, your honour," slipped in Wylie' "a very decent crayture." "Then why won't she keep those bee-hives? can't she see what an excellen thing honey is in a house—if one of her children was sick, for instance?"

"True for you, sir," said Sam, without the slightest change of feature. "It is wonderful how your honour can have the mind to think of these things—upon in word, it's surpnsing." "Samuel M'Elroy refuses to drain the field—does he?"

"No, sir; but he says the 'cooties isn't worth digging out of dry ground, nor never does grow to any size. He's a Ballyvourney man, too, sir."

"Oh, is he?" said Sir Marmaduke, accepting this as a receipt in full for an degree of eccentricity.

' Shamus 11I'Gillicuddy—Heavens, what a name! This Shamus appears a vert desperate fellow; he beat a man the other evening, coming back from the market. "It was only a neighbour, sir; they live fomint each other."

"A neighbour ! but bless my heart, th.! -nakes it worse."

"Sure, sir, it was nothing to spake of: it win. Darby Lenahan said your honour's bull was a pride to the place' and Shamus said the 0 Donoghue's was a finer baste any day; and from one word they came to another, and the end of it was, Lenahan got a crack on the skull that laid him quivering on the daisies."

"Savage ruffian, that Shamus; Fll keep a sharp eye on him." " Faix, and there's no need—he's a Ballyvourney man."

The old baronet looked up from his large volume, and seemed for a momen undecided whether he should not ask the meaning of a phrase which, occurring a every moment, appeared most perplexing in signification: but the thought that by doing so he should confess his ignorance before the sub-agent deterred him, and he resolved to leave the interpretation to time and his own ingenuity.

"What of this old fellow, who has the mill ?—has Ile consented to have the overshot wheel?"

"He tried it on Tuesday, sir," said Sam, with an almost imperceptible smile; "and the sluice gave way, and carried off the house and the end of the barn into the tail-race. He's gone in to take an action again your honour for the damages."

"Ungrateful rascal! I told him I'd be at the whole expense myself, and .1 ex- plained the great saving of water the new wheel would insure him." "True indeed, sir; but as the stream never went dry for thirty years, the ould idiot thought it would last his time. Begorra, be had enough of water on Tues- day, anyhow."

He's a Ballyvourney man, isn't he?"

"He is, sir," replied Wylie with the gravity of a judge.

Another temptation crossed Sir Marmaduke's mind; but he withstood it, and went on- " The mountain has then been divided as I ordered, has it?"

"Yes, sir; the lines were all marked out before Saturday." "Well, I suppose the people were pleased to know that they have each their own separate pasturage ? "

"Indeed, and, sir, I won't tell you a lie—they are not; they'd rather it was the ould way still. " What ! have I taken all this trouble for nothing, then? is it possible that they'd rather have their cattle straying wild about the country, than see them grazing peaceably on their own laud?" "That's just it, sir; for, you see, when they had the mountain among them, they fed on what they could get; one had maybe a flock of goats, another may- be a sheep or two, a heifer, an ass, or a bullsheen."

"A what ? "

"A little bull, your honour; and they didn't mind if one had more nor another., nor where they went, for the place was their own: but now, that it is all marked out and divided, begorra, if a beast is got trespassing, out comes some one with a stick and wallops him back again; and then the man that owns him natural enough, wouldnt see shame on his cow, or whatever it was; and that leads to a fight; and, faix, there's not a day now, but there's blood spilt over the same boon- (lanes."

"They're actually savages!" said Sir Marmaduke, as he threw his spectacles over his forehead, and dropped his pen from his fingers in mute amazement; "I never heard—I never read of such a people."

"They're Ballyvourney men," chimed in Wylie, asaentively.