Duke Athol, is a fine old building, but I think the only one worth notice, in the place.

We obtained a horse and gig for the day, at a little less price than we usually pay at home, (so also wine, brandy, &c. &c. is much cheaper than with us, because they have them free of duty,) and drove towards Peele: we bought a dog on our drive, off a poor woman, which was subsequently stolen from us by a passenger, to whom we entrusted it while we landed at Liverpool, in our passage back. We afterwards bought another from a sailor, which we brought home, but the poor fellow was soon after scalded to death. We intended to have brought a Manx cat with us, peculiar for having a tuft like a rabbit, instead of a tail, but could not easily obtain one.

We were pleased generally with the roads, which were in good repair, on which there are no turnpike gates to hinder you when in haste, to tease you when you have no change, to ruffle you when calm, and to break your neck when riding an unmanageable horse. We were also delighted with the waving fields of corn; the joyous laugh of the reapers; the beautiful views we occasionally caught of the ocean; the green fields; and the huge hills that pierced the clouds. But we were disappointed in seeing the hills barren and sterile; covered only with loose rocks and stones, resembling a good deal our cinder banks, in the mining districts: the fields bounded with mounds, instead of the green hedges of merry England; and most of all at the paucity of trees growing on the island: as we remarked at the time, to look for a grove or even a clump of trees, was like looking for a heap of milestones together.

We were surprised to find the women and children, for the most part, barefoot, and working in the fields alone. The last circumstance is to be accounted for by the fact, that most of the men are engaged in fishing, for the supply of the home markets with fish, and for salting and drying for exportation; and, in the mean time, the women attend to the getting in of the corn, &c.

We saw a great many women-some of them very pretty-working in the fields. One young woman in particular, who was barefoot, was exquisitely beautiful. She had fine eyes, which were dark as the raven's wing, with a fire in them that would scorch the heart of a salamander. Her hair was black as midnight, and fell in graceful negligence over her finely formed shoulders. Her features were perfect. Upon her cheek blended the lily and the rose. Her form would have graced the finest drawing room in the world. Her fine-turned ancle, pretty little feet, and small hands, would have stamped her as aristocratic, did we not know that nature bestows her favours equally on the plebian and the patrician, whatever aristocratic writers may say to the contrary. We tried to converse with her, but the sly young puss, would talk only in the Manx language, though I have no doubt she well understood English, for when I told her that her beautiful lips were made for kissing, she smiled such a smile, that I think had I been fancy-free, I should have been deeply in love with the girl; but as it was, I only stole a kiss, with which both parties seemed equally pleased, and drove off to Peele.

Peele is a small town, much less than Douglas, and without one thing worth admiring in it, save the ruins of its castle. These, after lunching, we were determined to see; so we went in search of the person who holds the office of warder, and a more curious specimen of humanity I never beheld. Fancy an old fellow sixty or seventy years of age, with a long cadaverous looking face, and a black hat without any definable form or shape upon the top of it; an old soldier's jacket, and some suspicious-coloured funnyfashioned unwhisperables, with a pair of shoes whose toes were a little less than a quarter of a yard broad; a stick in one hand, and a huge key in the other; a drawling cracked voice, and a perpendicular strut:fancy all this, and you have the warder before you. “Wish to see the ruins, Gentlemen ?” said he, with a thundering thump of his stick upon old mother earth. We replied in the affirmative, and followed him to a boat, where a ferryman rowed us across the river, in the passage of which I was reminded each time I looked at the gaunt and skeleton figure of the old warder, of Charon and his load of Shades.

As soon as we entered the castle, the old warder put himself in a favorite position with orators, viz. one leg thrown back, and one arm extended, and after a few preliminary hems and thumps on the floor with his stick, to clear his throat and call attention, he startled us by the following narrative, delivered in the most emphatic style, and accompanied by the most grotesque and ridiculous jesticulation :" Gentlemen! you have no doubt heard of that celebrated personage, Sir

Walter Scott, of Scotland; (laying marked emphasis on the last syllable) he was a great book-man gentleman, and wrote what gentlefolks call Novelties. Well, Gentlemen, it was the opinion of that celebrated personage, Sir Walter Scott, of Scotland, that this identical castle, in which we now stand, was haunted. Gentlemen! the manner of it was as follows:-A Gentleman lived in this castle, hundreds of years ago, before either me or you were born, (very likely, I thought, if it was so long since) who had a very beautiful lady for his wife; but, Gentlemen, he did not like her. Well, Gentlemen, there was a young lady visiting at the castle, whom he did like. Gentlemen! (with what was intended for a solemn tone, but which resembled very much the croaking of a fat frog half choked) he confined his wife in this very room we are now standing in, without food, and starved her to death. (A long pause to produce Effect.) Well, Gentlemen, noises were constantly heard, after she was dead, in this room, and about the castle, and a ghost was often seen to walk through the rooms at night. Gentlemen! at last a company of soldiers were placed in this room, and one night, Gentlemen, the night on which the young lady died whom the gentleman loved, and whom he had kept as his mistress, something like a woman in white was seen to pass through this room, and up the stairs of the castle, followed by a large black dog, which, before they could speak, returned with another woman in white in its mouth, and passed out of the castle. One of the soldiers determined to follow them to see where they went, but, Gentlemen,

(in a mysterious tone) he never returned. Gentlemen! since then, the castle has never been haunted. Gentlemen, (with a thump of the stick on the floor, expressive of confidence) it is the opinion of myself and that celebrated personage Sir Walter Scott, of Scotland, that the woman in white carried out by the dog, was the mistress of the Gentleman, and that the black dog was the devil. Gentlemen! it is also our opinion, that the man who followed the devil was devoured by him.-Now, Gentlemen, (reserving, after a solemn stare, his stand at ease attitude) I will show you to the turret.”.

My friend, who had little command of his features, stuffed his handkerchief into his mouth, and got behind the old fellow, lest he should spoil the fun: I looked of course very politely attentive, and as solemn as the subject demanded in the old fellow's opinion, though certainly I never laughed so much inwardly in my life. We had got the old man upon his hobby, and we indulged him to his heart's content, so that before we had finished looking at the ruins, he was giving us a sketch of his history. We jumped again into the boat, after the customary fee, and paid the boatman to allow us to row across the river ourselves; but neither of us knowing anything about rowing, we were rapidly getting out to sea, to the great terror and consternation of the old warder. Before we left him we asked him whether the tale of the Ghost was thought to be true. The old man looked actually thunderstruck. "True!" said he, why it was the opinion of that celebrated personage, Sir Walter Scott, of Scotland, and I believe