ihave been so often and persuasively asked to republish a little tour in ireland, which i wrote as “an oxonian,” many years ago, at the request of my beloved friend and companion, john leech, and of which only one edition has been issued, and that long since exhausted; i have been so severely upbraided for “keeping his splendid illustrations locked up in a box, and raising the price of the few copies which come into the market, to thrice the original cost;” i have been so fully certified, not only by hearsay but by my own eyes, that there is little or no perceptible change in the scenes, which he drew and i described; and my apprehension, that the style in which the book is written might be denounced as unbecoming, has been so completely expelled by the amused remonstrance of my friends, who insist that gaiety becomes an undergraduate as much as gaiters a dean;—that i can make no further resistance, and only ask that the failings of the author may be condoned by the talent of the artist.

s. reynolds hole.

the deanery,

rochester: 1892.