Poor Harrison, a good and honest man, died in a month after he was elected, and this fine ship, about which we have been at this side of the Atlantic so painfully excited ever since March, is, I fear, gone down with its gallant captain (Roberts, with whom we crossed the Atlantic in the _British Queen_) and poor Power, whom the public cannot afford to lose.
"Since I wrote my letter three days ago--pardon the boldly original topic--the weather has mended considerably.

Tell Tom that every tree is also striving to turn over a new leaf, and it is well for you that I have not another to turn too.

God bless you.
"T.C.G." * * * * * I beg to observe that the exhortation addressed to me had no moral significance, but was the writer's characteristic mode of exciting me to new scribblements.
The following, also written on the envelope enclosing a letter from Mrs.Grattan, is dated the 30th of July, 1840:-- * * * * * "I cannot let the envelope go quite a blank, though I cannot quite make it a prize ...

In literature I have done nothing but write a preface and notes for two new editions of the old _Highways and Byeways_, and a short sketchy article in this month's number of the _North American Review_ on the present state of Ireland.

I am going to follow it up in the next number in reference to the state of the Irish in America, and I hope I shall thus do some good to a subject I have much at heart.