She was not strong enough to enjoy it.

Its cries made her nervous; and so she kept the uncheered solitude of her room without the blessing of the little angel.
People may mourn in lugubrious phrase about the Irish blood in our country.

For our own part, we think the rich, tender, motherly nature of the Irish girl an element a thousand times more hopeful in our population than the faded, washed-out indifferentism of fashionable women, who have danced and flirted away all their womanly attributes, till there is neither warmth nor richness nor maternal fulness left in them,--mere paper-dolls, without milk in their bosoms or blood in their veins.

Give us rich, tender, warm-hearted Bridgets and Kathleens, whose instincts teach them the real poetry of motherhood; who can love unto death, and bear trials and pains cheerfully for the joy that is set before them.

We are not afraid for the republican citizens that such mothers will bear to us.