emigrant Irish are educated at the free public
schools, rise to a higher sphere of labour than
their parents, in many instances become
Protestants, and then freely mingle with the rest
of the community as thoroughly Americanised
citizens. Many of the most eminent Ameican
statesmen, scholars, and merchants have
been the children of emigrants, or have come
from the generation next succeeding the native
Irish generation. Presidents Jackson and
Buchanan were sons of Irish parents  so was
Vice-President Calhoun, one of the greatest
of American orators. A. T. Stewart, the
merchant prince of New York, was a native
of Belfast, James T. Brady, foremost of
criminal advocates in New York; Meagher,
the general and writer; were Irish. This
proves that the boast of Americans, that their
country offers its prizes to all who will compete
for them, is not unfounded; it also proves
that there are characteristics, even among the
poor classes of Irish who are driven to
emigration for existence, which are capable of
development into the power of leading men,
and into a high influence upon the age.

                        AS THE CROW FLIES.

        DUE WEST. PENRYN TO THE LAND'S END.

A FLIGHT on to Penryn, that beautiful town
on a ridge sloping down to a branch of
Falmouth harbour, and facing the wooded slope on
which stands the church of St. Gluvias, embedded
among trees. North of the town is the
farm of Bohethland, the scene of that truly
pathetic tragedy which Lillo, the London
goldsmith, who wrote immortal "George Barnwell"
dramatised.

The story of the Fatal Curiosity is this. In
the reign of James the First, the scapegrace
son of a well-to-do man of Penryn turned bad,
went to sea, and became first a terror to the
Spaniards, like Drake and Raleigh, then, by an
easy slide downward, a pirate. Fifteen years
passed, and the father and mother getting poorer
and poorer, retired to Bohethland farm. In the
meanwhile the son had gone through fire and
water. Off Rhodes his vessel had caught fire
while attacking a Turkish ship, and he had saved
himself by swimming. Some jewels he preserved
were, however, recognised as belonging to a
Turkish pasha, who had been robbed at sea, and
the sailor was instantly hurried to the galleys.
He escaped, and in an English vessel reached
London, whence he embarked again as a
doctor's servant, went to the East Indies,
saved money, returned to England, and on his
way from London to Cornwall was wrecked
upon his native shore. He went straight to
Penryn, carrying a large sum of money in a
bow case. He revealed himself to his sister
who had married a mercer, and arranged to walk
as a beggar to Bohethland, see his father and
mother, and enjoy the luxury of that pleasure
till next day, when the sister and her husband
should join him and share the joy of the
discovery and recognition. The man accordingly
went, and passing as a poor shipwrecked sailor,
was permitted to lie down in the barn. He
was shown his bed in the stable, and then gave
his mother a piece of gold to pay for his
lodging, showed her the bow-case belt that
he carried under his rags, and blessed her
secretly as she closed the door and left him to
dream of the happy morrow. But the desire
of gold had fired the woman's mind. She went
straight to her husband, assured him of the
beggar's wealth, overcame his scruples, urged
the glories of a fortune, and dragged him,
knife in hand, to murder the sleeping stranger
who was dreaming of them. On the following
day the sister and her husband came with
smiling faces and inquired for the sailor. The
old people denied having seen him. The
daughter then burst out with the truth, and as
a proof told the mother of a well-known mark
on his arm that she had recognised. The
father rushed to the barn, recognised the mark,
and slew himself there with the knife that had
wrought the murder. The maddened mother
also destroyed herself, and the daughter soon
after died of a broken heart. Surely only the
story of Å’dipus can equal the pathos of this
Cornish tragedy.

Fahnouth. close to Penryn, consisted only of
two houses in Leland's time, Arwenak, the
Killigrews' mansion, and Pendennis castle, on
the point facing Trefusis. Sir Walter Raleigh,
landing in the beautiful haven, on his return
from the fatal expedition to the coast of Guinea,
was struck with the advantage of the noble
harbour, with the entrance a mile wide, and
represented it to the council. The village
of Penny-come-quick soon arose. In 1652 the
custom-house was removed to it from Penryn.
In 1660 the place was named Falmouth by
royal proclamation; and in 1661 it received
its charter. Pendennis castle, that crowns
with its grey walls the western bluff, was
erected in the reign of Henry the Eighth.
The governor (eighty-seven years old) held
it for six months, till starved out, against
the enraged Parliament. This was the last
place, indeed, except Raglan castle, that stood
out for the miserable Stuarts. The Killigrews
nobly burned down Arwenak during this siege,
to prevent the Parliament generals having
quarter there for their troops. The last male
Killigrew was killed in a duel at Penryn, and
the property went to Lord Wodehouse. There
is a good story told of one of the Killigrews of
Arwenak, Lady Jane, in Elizabeth's time, and
it shows the current feeling against the
Spaniards which the lives of Drake and Raleigh
illustrated, yet which it is now so difficult to
excuse. This energetic lady and her retainers
boarded two Hans Town vessels, with
Spanish wealth in their holds, that had ventured
between St. Anthony and the Manacles,
murdered the innocent Spanish factors, and
carried off with glee two hogsheads full of shining
pieces of eight. The legality of this seizure was
not sufficiently appreciated; the whole party
were hung, except the originator, Lady Jane
Killigrew, who was first reprieved and then