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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7c6a3bb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54252 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54252) diff --git a/old/54252-0.txt b/old/54252-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 37835d7..0000000 --- a/old/54252-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1617 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1, No. 15, -October 10, 1840, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1, No. 15, October 10, 1840 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: February 27, 2017 [EBook #54252] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IRISH PENNY JOURNAL, OCT 10, 1840 *** - - - - -Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by JSTOR www.jstor.org) - - - - - - - - - - - THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL. - - NUMBER 15. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1840. VOLUME I. - -[Illustration: THE TOWN AND CASTLE OF LEIXLIP, COUNTY OF KILDARE.] - -Localities are no less subject to the capricious mutations of fashion in -taste, than dress, music, or any other of the various objects on which -it displays its extravagant vagaries. The place which on account of its -beauties is at one period the chosen resort of pleased and admiring -crowds, at another becomes abandoned and unthought of, as if it were -an unsightly desert, unfit for the enjoyment or happiness of civilized -man. Some other locality, perhaps of less natural or acquired beauty, -becomes the fashion of the day, and after a time gets out of favour in -turn, and is neglected for some other novel scene before unthought of or -disregarded. Yet the principles of true taste are immutable, and that -which is really beautiful is not the less so because it has ceased to -attract the multitude, who are generally governed to a far greater extent -by accidental associations of ideas than by any abstract feelings of the -mind. - -Perhaps it is less attributable to any characteristic volatility in the -character of the inhabitants of our metropolis, than to the singular -variety and number of the beautiful localities which surround our city, -and in emulous rivalry attract our attention, that this inconstancy -of attachment to any one locality is more strikingly instanced among -ourselves, than among the citizens of any other great town with which -we are acquainted. But, however this may be, the fact is unquestionable, -that there is scarcely a spot of any natural or improved beauty, within -a few miles of us, which has not in turn had its day of fashion, and its -subsequent period of unmerited neglect. Clontarf, with its sequestered -green lanes, and its glorious views of the bay--Glasnevin, the classical -abode of Addison, Parnell, Tickell, Sheridan, and Delany--Finglas, -with its rural sports--Chapelizod, the residence of the younger -Cromwell--Lucan, Leixlip, with their once celebrated spas, and all -the delightful epic scenery of the Liffey--Dundrum, with its healthy -mountain walks and atmosphere, and many others unnecessary to mention, -all experiencing the effects of this inconstancy of fashion, have found -their once admired beauties totally disregarded, and the admiration of -the multitude almost wholly transferred to a wild and unadorned beauty on -the rocky shores of Kingstown and Bullock, which our forefathers deemed -unworthy of notice. But let that beauty take warning from the fate of her -predecessors, and not hold her head too high in her day of triumph, for -she too will assuredly be cast off in turn, and find herself neglected -for some rival as yet unnoticed. - -Of such unmerited inconstancy and neglect there are no localities in -the neighbourhood of Dublin which have greater reason to complain than -the village of Lucan and that which forms the subject of our prefixed -embellishment. As the establishment of peace in Ireland led to an -increase of civilization, which exhibited itself in improved roads and -vehicles of conveyance, and the citizens, emerging from their embattled -strongholds, ventured to enjoy the pleasures of nature and rural life, -Lucan and Leixlip, with the beautiful scenery in which they are situated, -became the favourite places of resort; and their various natural -attractions becoming heightened by art, were described by travellers, -and chaunted in song. About “sixty years since” they had reached their -greatest glory, and Leixlip was the favourite of the day. It is thus -described at this period by the celebrated Doctor Campbell:--“All the -outlets of Dublin are pleasant, but this is superlatively so which leads -through Leixlip, a neat little village about seven miles from Dublin, up -the Liffey; whose banks being prettily tufted with wood, and enlivened -by gentlemen’s seats, afford a variety of landscapes, beautiful beyond -description.” It was at this period also that O’Keefe, in his popular -opera of “The Poor Soldier,” makes Patrick sing-- - - “Though Leixlip is proud of its close shady bowers, - Its clear falling waters and murmuring cascades, - Its groves of fine myrtle, its beds of sweet flowers, - Its lads so well dressed, and its neat pretty maids.” - -But though Leixlip no longer holds out attractions sufficient to gratify -those whose tastes are dependent on fashion, it has never ceased to be -a favourite with all whose tastes had a more solid foundation. It was -here, and in its immediate vicinity, that the two Robertses, genuine -Irish landscape painters, found many of the most congenial subjects -for their pencils. It was here, too, that the strong-headed painter of -strong heads--the Rembrandt of miniature painters, John Comerford--used -occasionally to retire, abandoning for a week or two the intellectual -society of Dublin which he so much enjoyed, and the acquisition of gain -which he no less relished, to make some elaborate study of one of the -scenes about the Bridge of Leixlip, which he, in his own dogmatic way, -asserted, “for genuine landscape beauty, could not be surpassed or -even rivalled any where!” This estimate of the beauties of Leixlip’s -“close shady bowers, &c.” was, we confess, a somewhat extravagant one; -yet, like most other honestly formed opinions of Comerford’s, it would -not have been an easy task to shake his belief in its truth, and to -sustain it he could, if combated, adduce the testimony of his and our -friend Gaspar Gabrielli, the first of Italian landscape painters of our -times, who notwithstanding his pride in being a Roman, and his national -predilections in favour of the classic scenery of his dear Italy, has -often declared in our hearing that he had never seen in his own country -scenery of its kind comparable with that of the Liffey, in the vicinity -of Lucan and Leixlip. - -But enthusiastic admiration of the scenery of Leixlip has not been -confined to the painters. Hear with what gusto our friend C. O. lets -himself out on this subject, not in his drawing-room character as the -clerical Connaught tourist, but in his more natural, buoyant, and Irish -one, as Terence O’Toole, our co-labourer in the first volume of the -_Dublin Penny Journal_:-- - -“Any one passing over the Bridge of Leixlip, must, if his eye is worth a -farthing for anything else than helping him to pick his way through the -puddle, look up and down with delight while moving over this bridge. To -the right, the river winning its noisy turbulent way over its rocky bed, -and losing itself afar down amidst embossing woods; to the left, after -plunging over the Salmon-leap, whose roar is heard though half a mile -off, and forming a junction with the Rye-water, it takes a bend to the -east, and washes the rich amphitheatre with which Leixlip is environed. I -question much whether any castle, even Warwick itself [bravo, Terence!] -stands in a grander position than Leixlip Castle, as it embattles the -high and wooded grounds that form the forks of the two rivers. Of the -towers, the round one of course was built by King John, the opposite -square one by the Geraldines. This noble and grandly circumstanced pile -has been in latter days the baronial residence of the White family, and -subsequently the residence of [lord-lieutenants] generals and prelates. -Here Primate Stone, more a politician than a Christian [churchman], -retired from his contest with the Ponsonbys and the Boyles to play at -cricket with General Cunningham; here resided Speaker Connolly before -he built his splendid mansion at Castletown; here the _great_ commoner, -as he was called, Tom Connolly, was born. Like many such edifices, this -castle is haunted: character and keeping would be altogether lost if -towers of 600 years’ standing, with rich mullioned ‘windows that exclude -the light, and passages that lead to nothing,’ with tapestried chambers -that have witnessed pranks of revelry and feats of war, of Norman, -Cromwellian, and Williamite possession, if such a place had not its -legend; and one of Ireland’s wildest geniuses, the eccentric and splendid -Maturin, has decorated the subject with the colourings of his vivid -fancy.” - -Terence adds:--“Leixlip is memorable in an historic point of view as the -place where, in the war commencing 1641, General Preston halted when on -his way to form a junction with the Marquis of Ormonde to oppose the -Parliamentarians. Acknowledging that his army was not excommunication -proof, he bowed before the fiat of the Nuncio, and lost the best -opportunity that ever offered of saving his cause and his country from -what has been called the ‘curse of Cromwell.’” - -To this brief but graphic sketch of our friend we can add but little. -Leixlip is a market and post town of the county of Kildare, situated in -the barony of North _Salt_--a name derived from the Latin appellation of -the cataract called the _Saltus Salmonis_, “Salmon Leap,” in the vicinity -of the town--and is about eight miles from Dublin. It contains between -eleven and twelve hundred inhabitants, and consists of one long street of -houses, well, though irregularly built, but exhibiting for the greater -number an appearance of negligence and decay. It is bounded on one -extremity by the river Liffey, which is crossed by a bridge of ancient -construction, and on the other by the Rye-water, over which there is a -bridge of modern date. As the focus of a parish, it has a church and a -Roman Catholic chapel, both of ample size and substantial construction, -but, like most edifices of their class in Ireland, but little remarkable -for the purity of their architectural styles. The latter is of recent -erection. Its most imposing architectural feature is, however, its -castle, which is magnificently situated on a steep and richly wooded -bank over the Liffey; but though of great antiquity, it exhibits in its -external character but little of the appearance of an ancient fortress, -having been modernised by the Hon. George Cavendish, its present -occupier. On its west side it is flanked by a circular, and on its east -by a square tower. This castle is supposed to have been erected in the -reign of Henry II. by Adam de Hereford, one of the chief followers of -Earl Strongbow, from whom he received as a gift the tenement of the -Salmon Leap, and other extensive possessions. It is said to have been the -occasional residence of Prince John during his governorship of Ireland in -the reign of his father; and in recent times it was a favourite retreat -of several of the Viceroys, one of whom, Lord Townsend, usually spent -the summer here. From an inquisition taken in 1604, it appears that the -manor of Leixlip was part of the possessions of the abbey of St Thomas in -Dublin. In 1668, the castle, with sixty acres of land, belonged to the -Earl of Kildare. They afterwards passed into the hands of the Right Hon. -Thomas Connolly, Speaker of the Irish House of Commons, and are now the -property of Colonel Connolly of Castletown. - - P. - - - - -THE CHASE, A POEM TRANSLATED FROM THE IRISH--CONCLUDED. - - - PATRICK. - - O son of kings, adorned with grace, - ’Twere music to my ear, - Of Fionn and his wondrous chase - The promised tale to hear. - - OISIN. - - Well--though afresh my bosom bleeds, - Remembering days of old-- - When I think of my sire and his mighty deeds-- - Yet shall the tale be told. - - While the Fenian bands at Almhuin’s towers, - In the hall of spears, passed the festive hours, - The goblet crowned, with chessmen played,[1] - Or gifts for gifts of love repaid; - - From the reckless throng Finn stole unseen, - When he spied a young doe on the heath-clad green - With agile spring draw near: - On Sceolan and Bran his nimble hounds - He whistles aloud, and away he bounds - In chase of the hornless deer. - - With his hounds alone and his trusty blade, - The son of Luno’s skill, - On the track of the flying doe he strayed - To Guillin’s pathless hill. - But when he came to its hard-won height - No deer appeared in view; - If east or west she had sped her flight - Nor hounds nor huntsman knew. - But those sprang westward o’er the sod, - While eastward Fionn press’d-- - Why did not pity touch thy God - To see them thus distress’d? - - There while he gazes anxious round, - Sudden he hears a doleful sound, - And by a lake of crystal sheen - Spies a nymph of loveliest form and mien: - Her cheeks as the rose were crimson bright, - Her lips the red berry’s glow; - Her neck as the polished marble[2] white, - Her breast the pure blossom’s full blow; - Downy gold were her locks, and her sparkling eyes - Like freezing stars in the ebon skies. - Such beauty, O Sage, all cold as thou art, - Would kindle warm raptures of love in thy heart. - - Nigh to the nymph of golden hair - With courteous grace he drew-- - “O hast thou seen, enchantress fair, - My hounds their game pursue?”[3] - - NYMPH. - - “Thy hounds I saw not in the chase, - O noble prince of the Fenian race; - But I have cause of woe more deep, - For which I linger here and weep.” - - FIONN. - - “O, hast thou lost a husband dear? - Falls for a darling son thy tear, - Or daughter of thy heart? - Sweet, soft-palmed nymph, the cause reveal - To one who can thy sorrows feel, - Perchance can ease thy smart?” - - The maid of tresses fair replied-- - “A precious ring I wore; - Dropped from my finger in the tide, - Its loss I now deplore: - But by the sacred vows that bind - Each brave and loyal knight, - I now adjure thee, Chief, to find - My peerless jewel bright.” - - He feels her adjuration’s ties; - Disrobes each manly limb, - And for the smooth-palmed princess hies - The gulfy lake to swim. - Five times deep-diving down the wave, - Through every cranny, nook, and cave, - With care he searches round and round, - Till the golden ring at length he found; - But scarce to shore the prize could bring, - When by some blasting ban-- - Ah! piteous tale--the Fenian king - Grew a withered, grey, old man! - - Meanwhile the Fenians passed the hours - In the hall of spears, at Almhuin’s towers; - The goblet crowned, with chessmen played, - Or gifts for gifts of love repaid, - When Caoilte rose and asked in grief, - “Ye spearmen, where is our gallant chief? - O, lost I dread is the Fenians’ boast-- - Then who shall lead our bannered host?” - - Bald Conan spoke--“A sweeter sound - Ne’er tingled on my ear; - If Fionn be lost, may he not be found - Till end the distant year! - But, Caoilte of the nimble feet, - Ye shall not want a chieftain meet; - In me, till Fionn’s fate be told, - The leader of your host behold!” - - Although the Fenian bands were torn - With agony severe, - We burst into a laugh of scorn - Such arrogance to hear. - - To urge the quest, we then decree, - Of Finn and his hounds the joyous three - That still to triumph led; - And soon from Almhuin’s halls away, - With Caoilte, I, and our dark array, - North to Slew Guillin sped. - There, as with searching glance the eye - O’er all the prospect rolled, - Beside the lake a wretch we spy, - Poor, withered, grey, and old. - Disgust and horror touched the heart - To see the bones all fleshless start - In a frame so lank and wan; - We thought him some starved fisher torn - From the whelming stream, by famine worn, - And left but the wreck of man. - - We asked if he had chanced to see - A swift-paced chieftain go, - With two fleet hounds, across the lea, - Behind a fair young doe. - - He gave us back no answer clear, - But in the nimble Caoilte’s ear - He breathed his tale--O, tale of grief!-- - That in him we saw the Fenian chief! - - Three sudden shouts to hear the tale - Our host raised loud and shrill-- - The badgers started in the vale, - The wild deer on the hill. - - Then Conan fierce unsheathed his sword, - And curs’d the Fenian king and his horde. - “If true thy tale,” he cries, - “This blade thy head would off thee smite; - For ne’er my valour in the fight, - Nor prowess didst thou prize. - Would that like thee, both old and weak, - Were the Fenians all, that my sword might reek - In their craven blood, and their cairns might swell - On the grassy lea!--for since Cumhail fell, - O’ercome in fateful strife - By Morni’s son of the golden shields, - Our sons thou hast sent to foreign fields, - Or of freedom reft and life.” - - “Bald, senseless wretch! our care is due - To Finn’s sad state, or thy mouth should rue - A speech so vile, and soon atone - With shattered teeth and fractured bone.” - - Indignant Caoilte spoke. - With equal wrath said Oscar stern, - “Audacious babbler! silence learn-- - What foe e’er felt thy stroke?” - - Then Conan thus--“Vain boy! be dumb, - Or tell what deed of fame - Did e’er thy Finn, but gnaw his thumb[4] - Until the marrow came? - WE, not Clan-Boske, did the deed - Whene’er we saw the foemen bleed. - Behind thee, Oisin, may thy son - A puling, whining chanter run, - And bear white book and bell. - His words I scorn--in open fight, - Which of us twain is in the right - Let swords, not speeches, tell.” - - Him answered Oscar’s trusty steel; - When craven Conan, taught to feel, - And trembling for his worthless life, - The Fenians prayed to end the strife, - And stay rough Oscar’s blade. - Between them swift the Fenians rushed, - The rising storm of battle hushed, - And Oscar’s vengeance stayed. - - Of Cumhail’s son then Caoilte sought - What wizard Danan foe had wrought - Such piteous change--and Finn replied, - “’Twas Guillin’s daughter--me she bound - By a sacred spell to search the tide - Till the ring she lost was found.” - - Then Conan spoke in altered mood-- - “Safe may we ne’er depart, - Till we see restored our chieftain good, - Or Guillin rue his art!” - Then close around our chief we throng, - And bear him on our shields along. - - Eight days and nights the caverned seat - Where Guillin made his dark retreat - We dig with sleepless care; - Pour through its windings close the light, - Till we see, in all her radiance bright, - Spring forth th’ enchantress fair. - - A chalice she bore of angled mould,[5] - And sparkling rich with gems and gold; - Its brimming fount in the hand she placed - Of Finn, whose looks small beauty graced. - Feeble he drinks--the potion speeds - Through every joint and pore; - To palsied age fresh youth succeeds-- - Finn of the swift and slender steeds - Becomes himself once more. - His shape, his strength, his bloom returns, - And in manly glory bright he burns! - - We gave three shouts that rent the air-- - The badgers fled the vale: - And now, O sage of frugal care, - Hast thou not heard the tale? - - D. - -[1] The game of chess is repeatedly noticed in connection with various -historical incidents in the early history of Ireland. Theophilus -O’Flanagan, in a note to his translation of _Deirdri_, an ancient Irish -tale, published in the Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Dublin, -speaks of it as “a military game that engages the mental faculties, like -mathematical science.” O’Flaherty’s Ogygia states that Cathir, the 120th -king of Ireland, left among his bequests to Crimthan “two chess-boards -with their chess-men distinguished with their specks and power; on which -account he was constituted master of the games in Leinster.” - -In the first book of Homer’s Odyssey the suitors are described as amusing -themselves with the game of chess:-- - - _With rival art and ardour in their mien,_ - _At chess they vie to captivate the queen,_ - _Divining of their loves._ - -In Pope’s translation there is a learned note on the subject, to which -the curious reader is referred; and also to a passage in Vallancey’s -Essay on the Celtic Language. - -[2] Literally, _as lime_. - -[3] This will remind the reader of a similar question by Venus in the -first Eneid:-- - - ----Heus inquit, juvenes monstrate mearum - Vidistis usquam hic errantem forte sororum - Succinctam pharetra, et maculosæ tegmine lyncis, - Aut spumantis apri cursum clamore prementem?--EN. I. 325. - - Ho, strangers! have you lately seen, she said, - One of my sisters, like myself array’d, - Who cross’d the lawn or in the forest stray’d? - A painted quiver at her back she bore; - Varied with spots, a lynx’s hide she wore; - And at full cry pursued the tusky boar.--DRYDEN. - - -[4] A note in Miss Brooke’s translations informs us that “Finn was -reproached with deriving all his courage from his foreknowledge of -events, and chewing his thumb for prophetic information.” - -[5] Quadrangular--the ancient cup of the Irish, called _meadar_. -Specimens of it may be seen in the Antiquarian Museum of the Royal Irish -Academy. - - * * * * * - -DISCRETION.--This is a nice perception of what is right and proper -under the circumstances in which a person is called to act. It may be -illustrated by the _feelers_ of the cat, which are long hairs placed -upon her nose, with which she readily measures the space between sticks -and stones through which she desires to pass, and thus determines, by a -delicate touch, whether it is sufficiently large to let her go through -without being scratched. Thus discretion appreciates difficulties, -dangers, and obstructions around, and enables a person to decide upon the -proper course of action. “There are many more shining qualities in the -mind of man, but there is none so useful as discretion. It is this which -gives a value to all the rest, which sets them at work, and turns them -to the advantage of the person who is possessed of them. Without it, -learning is pedantry and wit impertinence; nay, virtue itself often looks -like weakness. Discretion not only shows itself in words, but in all the -circumstances of action; and is like an agent of Providence, to guide -and direct us in the ordinary chances of life.” But how shall discretion -be cultivated in children? Chiefly by example. It is a virtue especially -committed to the cultivation of the mother. She may do much to promote -it, by rebuking acts of imprudence, and bestowing due encouragement upon -acts of discretion. Let the mother remember that discretion is important -to men, and see that she cherishes it in her sons; let her remember that -it is essential to women, and make sure of it in her daughters.--_Dr -Channing._ - - - - -THE IRISH MATCHMAKER. - -BY WILLIAM CARLETON. - - -Though this word at a glance may be said to explain itself, yet lest our -English or Scotch readers might not clearly understand its meaning, we -shall briefly give them such a definition of it as will enable them to -comprehend it in its full extent. The Irish Matchmaker, then, is a person -selected to conduct reciprocity treaties of the heart between lovers -themselves in the first instance, or, where the principal parties are -indifferent, between their respective families, when the latter happen to -be of opinion that it is a safer and more prudent thing to consult the -interest of the young folk rather than their inclination. In short, the -Matchmaker is the person engaged in carrying from one party to another -all the messages, letters, tokens, presents, and secret communications of -the tender passion, in whatever shape or character the said parties may -deem it proper to transmit them. The Matchmaker, therefore, is a general -negociator in all such matters of love or interest as are designed by -the principals or their friends to terminate in the honourable bond of -marriage; for with nothing morally improper or licentious, or approaching -to the character of an intrigue, will the regular Irish Matchmaker have -any thing at all to do. The Matchmaker, therefore, after all, is only -the creature of necessity, and is never engaged by an Irishman unless -to remove such preliminary obstacles as may stand in the way of his own -direct operations. In point of fact, the Matchmaker is nothing but a -pioneer, who, after the plan of the attack has been laid down, clears -away some of the rougher difficulties, until the regular advance is made, -the siege opened in due form, and the citadel successfully entered by the -principal party. - -We have said thus much to prevent our fair neighbours of England and -Scotland from imagining that because such a character as the Irish -Matchmaker exists at all, Irishmen are personally deficient in that -fluent energy which is so necessary to express the emotions of the tender -passion. Addison has proved to the satisfaction of any rational mind that -modesty and assurance are inseparable--that a blushing face may accompany -a courageous, nay, a desperate heart--and that, on the contrary, an -abundance of assurance may be associated with a very handsome degree of -modesty. In love matters, I grant, modesty is the _forte_ of an Irishman, -whose character in this respect has been unconsciously hit off by the -poet. Indeed he may truly be termed _vultus ingenui puer, ingenuique -pudoris_; which means, when translated, that in looking for a wife an -Irishman is “a _boy_ of an _easy_ face, and remarkable modesty.” - -At the head of the Matchmakers, and far above all competitors, stands -the Irish Midwife, of whose abilities in this way it is impossible to -speak too highly. And let not our readers imagine that the duties which -devolve upon her, as well as upon matchmakers in general, are slight or -easily discharged. To conduct a matter of this kind ably, great tact, -knowledge of character, and very delicate handling, are necessary. To -be incorruptible, faithful to both parties, not to give offence to -either, and to obviate detection in case of secret bias or partiality, -demand talents of no common order. The amount of fortune is often to be -regulated--the good qualities of the parties placed in the best, or, what -is often still more judicious, in the most suitable light--and when there -happens to be a scarcity of the commodity, it must be furnished from her -own invention. The miser is to be softened, the contemptuous tone of the -purse-proud _bodagh_ lowered without offence, the crafty cajoled, and -sometimes the unsuspecting overreached. Now, all this requires an able -hand, as matchmaking in general among the Irish does. Indeed I question -whether the wiliest politician that ever attempted to manage a treaty of -peace between two hostile powers could have a more difficult card to play -than often falls to the lot of the Irish Matchmaker. - -The Midwife, however, from her confidential intercourse with the sex, -and the respect with which both young and old of them look upon her, is -peculiarly well qualified for the office. She has seen the youth shoot up -and ripen into the young man--she has seen the young man merged into the -husband, and the husband very frequently lost in the wife. Now, the marks -and tokens by which she noted all this are as perceptible in the young of -this day as they were in the young of fifty years ago; she consequently -knows from experience how to manage each party, so as to bring about the -consummation which she so devoutly wishes. - -Upon second thoughts, however, we are inclined to think after all that -the right of precedence upon this point does not exclusively belong to -the Midwife; or at least, that there exists another person who contests -it with her so strongly that we are scarcely capable of determining -their respective claims: this is the _Cosherer_. The Cosherer in Ireland -is a woman who goes from one relation’s house to another, from friend -to friend, from acquaintance to acquaintance--is always welcome, and -uniformly well treated. The very extent of her connexions makes her -independent; so that if she receives an affront, otherwise a cold -reception, from one, she never feels it to affect her comfort, but on the -contrary carries it about with her in the shape of a complaint to the -rest, and details it with such a rich spirit of vituperative enjoyment, -that we believe in our soul some of her friends, knowing what healthful -occupation it gives her, actually affront her from pure kindness. The -Cosherer is the very impersonation of industry. Unless when asleep, -no mortal living ever saw her hands idle. Her principal employment is -knitting; and whether she sits, stands, or walks, there she is with the -end of the stocking under her arm, knit, knit, knitting. She also sews -and quilts; and whenever a quilting is going forward, she can tell you -at once in what neighbour’s house the quilting-frame was used last, -and where it is now to be had; and when it has been got, she is all -bustle and business, ordering and commanding about her--her large red -three-cornered pincushion hanging conspicuously at her side, a lump of -chalk in one hand, and a coil of twine in the other, ready to mark the -pattern, whether it be wave, square, or diamond. - -The Cosherer is always dressed with neatness and comfort, but generally -wears something about her that reminds one of a day gone by, and may be -considered as the lingering remnant of some old custom that has fallen -into disuse. This, slight as it is, endears her to many, for it stands -out as the memorial of some old and perhaps affecting associations, which -at its very appearance are called out from the heart in which they were -slumbering. - -It is impossible to imagine a happier life than that of the Cosherer. She -has evidently no trouble, no care, no children, nor any of the various -claims of life, to disturb or encumber her. Wherever she goes she is -made, and finds herself, perfectly at home. The whole business of her -life is carrying about intelligence, making and projecting matches, -singing old songs and telling old stories, which she frequently does -with a feeling and unction not often to be met with. She will sing you -the different sets and variations of the old airs, repeat the history -and traditions of old families, recite _ranns_, interpret dreams, give -the origin of old local customs, and tell a ghost story in a style that -would make your hair stand on end. She is a bit of a doctress, too--an -extensive herbalist, and is very skilful and lucky among children. In -short, she is a perfect Gentleman’s Magazine in her way--a regular -repertory of traditionary lore, a collector and distributor of social -antiquities, dealing in every thing that is timeworn or old, and handling -it with such a quiet and antique air, that one would imagine her life -to be a life not of years but of centuries, and that she had passed the -greater portion of it, long as it was, in “wandering by the shores of old -romance.” - -Such a woman the reader will at once perceive is a formidable competitor -for popular confidence with the Midwife. Indeed there is but one -consideration alone upon which we would be inclined to admit that -the latter has any advantage over her--and it is, that she _is the -Midwife_; a word which is a tower of strength to her, not only against -all professional opponents, but against such analogous characters as -would intrude even upon any of her subordinate or collateral offices. -As matchmakers, it is extremely difficult to decide between her and the -Cosherer; so much so, indeed, that we are disposed to leave the claim for -priority undetermined. In this respect each pulls in the same harness; -and as they are so well matched, we will allow them to jog on side by -side, drawing the youngsters of the neighbouring villages slowly but -surely towards the land of matrimony. - -In humble country life, as in high life, we find in nature the same -principles and motives of action. Let not the speculating mother of rank, -nor the husband-hunting dowager, imagine for a moment that the plans, -stratagems, lures, and trap-falls, with which they endeavour to secure -some wealthy fool for their daughters, are not known and practised--ay, -and with as much subtlety and circumvention too--by the very humblest of -their own sex. In these matters they have not one whit of superiority -over the lowest, sharpest, and most fraudulent gossip of a country -village, where the arts of women are almost as sagaciously practised, and -the small scandal as ably detailed, as in the highest circles of fashion. - -The third great master of the art of matchmaking is the _Shanahus_, -who is nothing more or less than the counterpart of the Cosherer; for -as the Cosherer is never of the male sex, so the Shanahus is never of -the female. With respect to their habits and modes of life, the only -difference between them is, that as the Cosherer is never idle, so the -Shanahus never works; and the latter is a far superior authority in old -popular prophecy and genealogy. As a matchmaker, however, the Shanahus -comes infinitely short of the Cosherer; for the truth is, that this -branch of diplomacy falls naturally within the manœuvring and intriguing -spirit of a woman. - -Our readers are not to understand that in Ireland there exists, like -the fiddler or dancing-master, a distinct character openly known by -the appellation of matchmaker. No such thing. On the contrary, the -negotiations they undertake are all performed under false colours. The -business, in fact, is close and secret, and always carried on with the -profoundest mystery, veiled by the sanction of some other ostensible -occupation. - -One of the best specimens of the kind we ever met was old Rose Mohan, or, -as she was called, Moan, a name, we doubt, fearfully expressive of the -consequences which too frequently followed her own negociations. Rose -was a tidy creature of middle size, who always went dressed in a short -crimson cloak much faded, a striped red and blue drugget petticoat, and -a heather-coloured gown of the same fabric. When walking, which she did -with the aid of a light hazel staff hooked at the top, she generally -kept the hood of the cloak over her head, which gave to her whole figure -a picturesque effect; and when she threw it back, one could not help -admiring how well her small but symmetrical features agreed with the dowd -cap of white linen, with a plain muslin border, which she wore. A pair of -blue stockings and sharp-pointed shoes high in the heels completed her -dress. Her features were good-natured and Irish; but there lay over the -whole countenance an expression of quickness and sagacity, contracted -no doubt by a habitual exercise of penetration and circumspection. At -the time I saw her she was very old, and I believe had the reputation -of being the last in that part of the country who was known to go about -from house to house spinning on the distaff, an instrument which has now -passed away, being more conveniently replaced by the spinning-wheel. - -The manner and style of Rose’s visits were different from those of any -other who could come to a farmer’s house, or even to an humble cottage, -for to the inmates of both were her services equally rendered. Let -us suppose, for instance, the whole female part of a farmer’s family -assembled of a summer evening about five o’clock, each engaged in -some domestic employment: in runs a lad who has been sporting about, -breathlessly exclaiming, whilst his eyes are lit up with delight, -“Mother! mother! here’s Rose Moan coming down the boreen!” “Get out, -avick; no, she’s not.” “Bad cess to me but she is; that I may never stir -if she isn’t! Now!” The whole family are instantly at the door to see -if it be she, with the exception of the prettiest of them all, Kitty, -who sits at her wheel, and immediately begins to croon over an old Irish -air which is sadly out of tune; and well do we know, notwithstanding -the mellow tones of that sweet voice, why it is so, and also why that -youthful cheek in which health and beauty meet, is now the colour of -crimson. - -“_Oh, Rosha, acushla, cead millie failte ghud!_ (Rose, darlin’, a hundred -thousand welcomes to you!) Och, musha, what kep you away so long, Rose? -Sure you won’t lave us this month o’ Sundays, Rose?” are only a few of -the cordial expressions of hospitality and kindness with which she is -received. But Kitty, whose cheek but a moment ago was carmine, why is it -now pale as the lily? - -“An’ what news, Rose?” asks one of her sisters; “sure you’ll tell us -every thing; won’t you?” - -“Throth, avillish, _I have no bad news_, any how--an’ as to tellin’ you -_all_--Biddy, _lhig dumh_, let me alone. No, I have no bad news, God be -praised, _but good news_.” - -Kitty’s cheek is again crimson, and her lips, ripe and red as cherries, -expand with the sweet soft smile of her country, exhibiting a set of -teeth for which many a countess would barter thousands, and giving out -a breath more delicious than the fragrance of a summer meadow. Oh, no -wonder, indeed, that the kind heart of Rose contains in its recesses a -message to her as tender as ever was transmitted from man to woman! - -“An’, Kitty, acushla, where’s the welcome from _you_, that’s my -favourite? Now don’t be jealous, childre; sure you all know she is, an’ -ever an’ always was.” - -“If it’s not upon my lips, it’s in my heart, Rose, an’ from that heart -you’re welcome!” - -She rises up and kisses Rose, who gives her one glance of meaning, -accompanied by the slightest imaginable smile, and a gentle but -significant pressure of the hand, which thrills to her heart and diffuses -a sense of ecstacy through her whole spirit. Nothing now remains but the -opportunity, which is equally sought for by Rose and her, to hear without -interruption the purport of her lover’s communication; and this we leave -to lovers to imagine. - -In Ireland, however odd it may seem, there occur among the very poorest -classes some of the hardest and most penurious bargains in matchmaking -that ever were heard of or known. Now, strangers might imagine that all -this close higgling proceeds from a spirit naturally near and sordid, but -it is not so. The real secret of it lies in the poverty and necessity -of the parties, and chiefly in the bitter experience of their parents, -who, having come together in a state of destitution, are anxious, each as -much at the expense of the other as possible, to prevent their children -from experiencing the same privation and misery which they themselves -felt. Many a time have matches been suspended or altogether broken off -because one party refuses to give his son a slip of a pig, or another his -daughter a pair of blankets; and it was no unusual thing for a matchmaker -to say, “Never mind; I have it all settled _but the slip_.” One might -naturally wonder why those who are so shrewd and provident upon this -subject do not strive to prevent early marriages where the poverty is -so great. So unquestionably they ought, but it is a settled usage of -the country, and one too which Irishmen have never been in the habit -of considering as an evil. We have no doubt that if they once began to -reason upon it as such, they would be very strongly disposed to check a -custom which has been the means of involving themselves and their unhappy -offspring in misery, penury, and not unfrequently in guilt itself. - -Rose, like many others in this world who are not conscious of the same -failing, smelt strongly of the shop; in other words, her conversation -had a strong matrimonial tendency. No two beings ever lived so decidedly -antithetical to each other in this point of view as the Matchmaker and -the Keener. Mention the name of an individual or a family to the Keener, -and the medium through which her memory passes back to them is that of -her professed employment--a mourner at wakes and funerals. - -“Don’t you know young Kelly of Tamlaght?” - -“I do, avick,” replies the Keener, “and what about him?” - -“Why, he was married to-day mornin’ to ould Jack M’Cluskey’s daughter.” - -“Well, God grant them luck an’ happiness, poor things! I do indeed -remember his father’s wake an’ funeral well--ould Risthard Kelly of -Tamlaght--a dacent corpse he made for his years, an’ well he looked. But -indeed I _knewn_ by the colour that sted in his checks, an’ the limbs -remainin’ soople for the twenty-four hours afther his departure, that -some of the family ’ud follow him afore the year was out: an’ so she -did. The youngest daughter, poor thing, by raison of a could she got, -over-heatin’ herself at a dance, was stretched beside him that very day -was eleven months; and God knows it was from the heart my grief came -for _her_--to see the poor handsome colleen laid low so soon. But when -a gallopin’ consumption sets in, avourneen, sure we all know what’s to -happen. In Crockaniska churchyard they sleep--the Lord make both their -beds in heaven this day!” The very reverse of this, but at the same time -as inveterately professional, was Rose Moan. - -“God save you, Rose.” - -“God save you kindly, avick. Eh!--let me look at you. Aren’t you red -Billy M’Guirk’s son from Ballagh?” - -“I am, Rose. An’, Rose, how is yourself an’ the world gettin’ an?” - -“Can’t complain, dear, in such times. How are yez all at home, alanna?” - -“Faix, middlin’ well, Rose, thank God an’ you.--You heard of my -granduncle’s death, big Ned M’Coul?” - -“I did, avick, God rest him. Sure it’s well I remimber his weddin’, poor -man, by the same atoken that I know one that helped him on wid it a -thrifle. He was married in a blue coat and buckskins, an’ wore a scarlet -waistcoat that you’d see three miles off. Oh, well I remimber it. An’ -whin he was settin’ out that mornin’ to the priest’s house, ‘Ned,’ says -I, an’ I fwhishspered him, ‘dhrop a button on the right knee afore you -get the words said.’ ‘_Thighum_,’ said he, wid a smile, an’ he slipped -ten thirteens into my hand as he spoke. ‘I’ll do it,’ said he, ‘and thin -a fig for the fairies!’--becase you see if there’s a button of the right -knee left unbuttoned, the fairies--this day’s Friday, God stand betune us -and harm!--can do neither hurt nor harm to sowl or body, an’ sure that’s -a great blessin’, avick. He left two fine slips o’ girls behind him.” - -“He did so--as good-lookin’ girls as there’s in the parish.” - -“Faix, an’ kind mother for them, avick. She’ll be marryin’ agin, I’m -judgin’, she bein’ sich a fresh good-lookin’ woman.” - -“Why, it’s very likely, Rose.” - -“Throth it’s natural, achora. What can a lone woman do wid such a large -farm upon her hands, widout having some one to manage it for her, an’ -prevint her from bein’ imposed on? But indeed the first thing she ought -to do is to marry off her two girls widout loss of time, in regard that -it’s hard to say how a stepfather an’ thim might agree; and I’ve often -known the mother herself, when she had a fresh family comin’ an her, -to be as unnatural to her fatherless childre as if she was a stranger -to thim, and that the same blood did’nt run in their veins. Not saying -that Mary M’Coul will or would act that way by her own; for indeed she’s -come of a kind ould stock, an’ ought to have a good heart. Tell her, -avick, when you see her, that I’ll spind a day or two wid her--let me -see--to-morrow will be Palm Sunday--why, about the Aisther holidays.” - -“Indeed I will, Rose, with great pleasure.” - -“An’ fwhishsper, dear, jist tell her that I’ve a thing to say to -her--that I had a long dish o’ discoorse about her wid _a friend o’ -mine_. You wont forget now?” - -“Oh the dickens a forget!” - -“Thank you, dear: God mark you to grace, avourneen! When you’re a little -ouldher, maybe I’ll be a friend to you yet.” - -This last intimation was given with a kind of mysterious benevolence, -very visible in the complacent shrewdness of her face, and with a twinkle -in the eye, full of grave humour and considerable self-importance, -leaving the mind of the person she spoke to in such an agreeable -uncertainty as rendered it a matter of great difficulty to determine -whether she was serious or only in jest, but at all events throwing the -onus of inquiry upon him. - -The ease and tact with which Rose could involve two young persons of -opposite sexes in a mutual attachment, were very remarkable. In truth, -she was a kind of matrimonial incendiary, who went through the country -holding her torch now to this heart and again to that--first to one and -then to another, until she had the parish more or less in a flame. And -when we consider the combustible materials of which the Irish heart is -composed, it is no wonder indeed that the labour of taking the census -in Ireland increases at such a rapid rate during the time that elapses -between the periods of its being made out. If Rose, for instance, met -a young woman of her acquaintance accidentally--and it was wonderful -to think how regularly these accidental meetings took place--she would -address her probably somewhat as follows:-- - -“Arra, Biddy Sullivan, how are you, a-colleen?” - -“Faix, bravely, thank you, Rose. How is yourself?” - -“Indeed, thin, sorra bit o’ the health we can complain of, Bhried, -barrin’ whin this pain in the back comes upon us. The last time I seen -your mother, Biddy, she was complainin’ of a _weid_.[6] I hope she’s -betther, poor woman?” - -“Hut! bad scran to the thing ails her! She has as light a foot as e’er a -one of us, an’ can dance ‘Jackson’s mornin’ brush’ as well as ever she -could.” - -“Throth, an’ I’m proud to hear it. Och! och! ‘Jackson’s mornin’ brush!’ -and it was she that _could_ do it. Sure I remimber her wedding-day -like yestherday. Ay, far an’ near her fame wint as a dancer, an’ the -clanest-made girl that ever came from Lisbuie. Like yestherday do I -remimber it, an’ how the squire himself an’ the ladies from the Big -House came down to see herself an’ your father, the bride and groom--an’ -it wasn’t on every hill head you’d get sich a couple--dancin’ the same -‘Jackson’s mornin’ brush.’ Oh! it was far and near her fame wint for -dancin’ that.--An’ is there no news wid you, Bhried, at all at all?” - -“The sorra word, Rose: where ud I get news? Sure it’s yourself that’s -always on the fut that ought to have the news for _us_, Rose alive.” - -“An’ maybe I have too. I was spaikin’ to a friend o’ mine about you the -other day.” - -“A friend o’ yours, Rose! Why, what friend could it be?” - -“A friend o’ mine--ay, an’ of yours too. Maybe you have more friends than -you think, Biddy--and kind ones too, as far as wishin’ you well goes, -’tany rate. Ay have you, faix, an’ friends that e’er a girl in the parish -might be proud to hear named in the one day wid her. Awouh!” - -“Bedad we’re in luck, thin, for that’s more than I knew of. An’ who may -these great friends of ours be, Rose?” - -“Awouh! Faix, as dacent a boy as ever broke bread the same boy is, ‘and,’ -says he, ‘if I had goold in bushelfuls, I’d think it too little for that -girl;’ but, poor lad, he’s not aisy or happy in his mind in regard o’ -that. ‘I’m afeard,’ says he, ‘that she’d put scorn upon me, an’ not think -me her aiquals. An’ no more I am,’ says he again, ‘for where, afther all, -would you get the likes of Biddy Sullivan?’--Poor boy! throth my heart -aches for him!” - -“Well, can’t you fall in love wid him yourself, Rose, whoever he is?” - -“Indeed, an’ if I was at your age, it would be no shame to me to do so; -but, to tell you the thruth, the sorra often ever the likes of Paul -Heffernan came acrass me.” - -“Paul Heffernan! Why, Rose,” replied Biddy, smiling with the assumed -lightness of indifference, “is that your beauty? If it is, why, keep him, -an’ make much of him.” - -“Oh, wurrah! the differ there is between the hearts an’ tongues of some -people--one from another--an’ the way they spaik behind others’ backs! -Well, well, I’m sure that wasn’t the way he spoke of you, Biddy; an’ -God forgive you for runnin’ down the poor boy as you’re doin’. Trogs! I -believe you’re the only girl would do it.” - -“Who, me! I’m not runnin’ him down. I’m neither runnin’ him up nor down. -I have neither good nor bad to say about him--the boy’s a black sthranger -to me, barrin’ to know his face.” - -“Faix, an’ he’s in consate wid you these three months past, an’ intinds -to be at the dance on Friday next, in Jack Gormly’s new house. Now, good -bye, alanna; keep your own counsel till the time comes, an’ mind what -I said to you. It’s not behind every ditch the likes of Paul Heffernan -grows. _Bannaght lhath!_ My blessin’ be wid you!” - -Thus would Rose depart just at the critical moment, for well she knew -that by husbanding her information and leaving the heart something to -find out, she took the most effectual steps to excite and sustain that -kind of interest which is apt ultimately to ripen, even from its own -agitation, into the attachment she is anxious to promote. - -The next day, by a meeting similarly accidental, she comes in contact -with Paul Heffernan, who, honest lad, had never probably bestowed a -thought upon Biddy Sullivan in his life. - -“_Morrow ghud_, Paul!--how is your father’s son, ahager?” - -“_Morrow ghuteha_, Rose!--my father’s son wants nothin’ but a good wife, -Rosha.” - -“An’ it’s not every set day or bonfire night that a good wife is to be -had, Paul--that is, a _good_ one, as you say; for, throth, there’s many -o’ them in the market sich as they are. I was talkin’ about you to a -friend of mine the other day--an’, trogs, I’m afeard you’re not worth all -the abuse we gave you.” - -“More power to you, Rose! I’m oblaged to you. But who is the friend in -the manetime?” - -“Poor girl! Throth, when your name slipped out an her, the point of a -rush would take a drop of blood out o’ her cheek, the way she crimsoned -up. ‘An’, Rose,’ says she, ‘if ever I know you to breathe it to man or -mortual, my lips I’ll never open to you to my dyin’ day.’ Trogs, whin I -looked at her, an’ the tears standin’ in her purty black eyes, I thought -I didn’t see a betther favoured girl, for both face and figure, this many -a day, than the same Biddy Sullivan.” - -“Biddy Sullivan! Is that long Jack’s daughter of Cargah?” - -“The same. But, Paul, avick, if a syllable o’ what I tould you----” - -“Hut, Rose! honour bright! Do you think me a _stag_, that I’d go and -inform on you?” - -“Fwhishsper, Paul; she’ll be at the dance on Friday next in Jack Gormly’s -new house. So _bannaght lhath_, an’ think o’ what I betrayed to you.” - -Thus did Rose very quietly and sagaciously bind two young hearts -together, who probably might otherwise have never for a moment even -thought of each other. Of course, when Paul and Biddy met at the dance on -the following Friday, the one was the object of the closest attention to -the other; and each being prepared to witness strong proofs of attachment -from the opposite party, every thing fell out exactly according to their -expectations. - -Sometimes it happens that a booby of a fellow during his calf love will -employ a male friend to plead his suit with a pretty girl, who, if the -principal party had spunk, might be very willing to marry him. To the -credit of our fair countrywomen, however, be it said, that in scarcely -one instance out of twenty does it happen, or has it ever happened, that -any of them ever fails to punish the faint heart by bestowing the fair -lady upon what is called the blackfoot or spokesman whom he selects to -make love for him. In such a case it is very naturally supposed that -the latter will speak two words for himself and one for his friend, -and indeed the result bears out the supposition. Now, nothing on earth -gratifies the heart of the established Matchmaker so much as to hear -of such a disaster befalling a spoony. She exults over his misfortune -for months, and publishes his shame to the uttermost bounds of her own -little world, branding him as “a poor pitiful crature, who had not the -courage to spaik up for himself or to employ them that could.” In fact, -she entertains much the same feeling against him that a regular physician -would towards some weak-minded patient, who prefers the knavish ignorance -of a quack to the skill and services of an able and educated medical -practitioner. - -Characters like Rose are fast disappearing in Ireland; and indeed in a -country where the means of life were generally inadequate to the wants -of the population, they were calculated, however warmly the heart may -look back upon the memory of their services, to do more harm than good, -by inducing young folks to enter into early and improvident marriages. -They certainly sprang up from a state of society not thoroughly formed -by proper education and knowledge--where the language of a people, too, -was in many extensive districts in such a state of transition as in the -interchange of affection to render an interpreter absolutely necessary. -We have ourselves witnessed marriages where the husband and wife spoke -the one English and the other Irish, each being able with difficulty to -understand the other. In all such cases Rose was invaluable. She spoke -Irish and English fluently, and indeed was acquainted with every thing in -the slightest or most remote degree necessary to the conduct of a love -affair, from the first glance up until the priest had pronounced the last -words--or, to speak more correctly, until “the throwing of the stocking.” - -Rose was invariably placed upon the _hob_, which is the seat of comfort -and honour at a farmer’s fireside, and there she sat neat and tidy, -detailing all the news of the parish, telling them how such a marriage -was one unbroken honeymoon--a sure proof by the way that she herself had -a hand in it--and again, how another one did not turn out well, and she -said so; “there was always a bad dhrop in the Haggarties; but, my dear, -the girl herself was _for_ him; so as she made her own bed she must lie -in it, poor thing. Any way, thanks be to goodness I had nothing to do wid -it!” - -Rose was to be found in every fair and market, and always at a particular -place at a certain hour of the day, where the parties engaged in a -courtship were sure to meet her on these occasions. She took a chirping -glass, but never so as to become unsteady. Great deference was paid to -every thing she said; and if this was not conceded to her, she extorted -it with a high hand. Nobody living could drink a health with half the -comic significance that Rose threw into her eye when saying, “Well, young -couple, here’s everything as you wish it!” - -Rose’s motions from place to place were usually very slow, and for the -best reason in the world, because she was frequently interrupted. For -instance, if she met a young man on her way, ten to one but he stood -and held a long and earnest conversation with her; and that it was both -important and confidential, might easily be gathered from the fact that -whenever a stranger passed, it was either suspended altogether, or -carried on in so low a tone as to be inaudible. This held equally good -with the girls. Many a time have I seen them retracing their steps, and -probably walking back a mile or two, all the time engaged in discussing -some topic evidently of more than ordinary interest to themselves. And -when they shook hands and bade each other good bye, heavens! at what a -pace did the latter scamper homewards across fields and ditches, in order -to make up for the time she had lost! - -Nobody ever saw Rose receive a penny of money, and yet when she took -a fancy, it was beyond any doubt that she has often been known to -assist young folks in their early struggles; but in no instance was the -slightest aid ever afforded to any one whose union she had not herself -been instrumental in bringing about. As to the _when_ and the _how_ she -got this money, and the great quantity of female apparel which she was -known to possess, we think we see our readers smile at the simplicity of -those who may not be able to guess the several sources from whence she -obtained it. - -One other fact we must mention before we close this sketch of her -character. There were _some_ houses--we will not, for we dare not, say -_how many_--into which Rose was never seen to enter. This, however, was -not her fault. Every one knew that what she did, she did always for the -best; and if some small bits of execration were occasionally levelled -at her, it was not more than the parties levelled at each other. All -marriages cannot be happy; and indeed it was a creditable proof of Rose -Moan’s sagacity that so few of those effected through her instrumentality -were unfortunate. - -Poor Rose! matchmaking was the great business of your simple but not -absolutely harmless life. You are long since, we trust, gone to that -happy place where there are neither marryings nor givings in marriage, -but where you will have a long Sabbath from your old habits and -tendencies. We love for more reasons than either one or two to think of -your faded crimson cloak, peaked shoes, hazel staff, clear grey eye, -and nose and chin that were so full of character. As you used to say -yourself, _bannaght lhath!_--my blessing be with you! - -[6] A feverish cold. - - - - -RANDOM SKETCHES.--No. I. - -FELINE RECOLLECTIONS. - - -One result of perusing such interesting papers on “the Intellectuality of -Domestic Animals” as that which lately appeared in the _Dublin University -Magazine_, should be the publication of similar facts; another, the -promotion of that kindness towards the inferior creation which is still, -alas! so sparingly manifested. I therefore propose stuffing a cranny -of the _Irish Penny Journal_ with a few particulars relating, firstly, -to the maternal and filial piety of the cat; secondly, to the humanity -(or, psychologically speaking, brutality) of the same animal. Of the -facts illustrative of the former virtues I was an eye-witness--those -illustrative of the latter I had from a member of the family in which -they occurred. - -In my early home two cats, a mother and a son, formed part of the -establishment. The former, a dark-grey matron, rejoiced in the euphonious -name of SMUT--the colour of the latter may be inferred from his -appellation, FOX. Smut was, to be brief, the most lady-like cat I ever -saw; Fox was a huge Dan Donnelly of a brute, a very hero of the slates, -and the terror of all the cats in the neighbourhood, _save one_; he -walloped them right and left; and many a smirking sylph of the gutters, -wont to pick her steps daintily to avoid all possible contact with the -wet, was seen to scamper away screaming when Fox appeared in view, for -truth obliges me to record that he spared neither age nor sex. Nor was he -formidable to the brute creation alone--humanity often suffered under his -visitations. There was no keener forager among the larders and pantries -of the neighbourhood. A poor dancing-master who had a way of leaving his -window open was most frequently victimized; for as the said window was -_convenient_ to the low roof of a back house, our hero used to quietly -walk in and purvey to his liking. In the recess of a chimney, and several -feet above the roof of our house, was a kind of small platform, where -Master Fox was usually pleased to regale himself on his ill-gotten gains. -One day I saw him with a calf’s or lamb’s pluck in his mouth, twice as -long as himself, darting aloft towards his refectory. The weight of the -booty several times dragged him back; but he persevered till he gained -his point: it was a sight ludicrous beyond all imagining. - -But as it was not every day Master Fox could mulct the circumambient -dancing-master in a beef-steak or a calf’s pluck, he often returned home -hungry; and I am now come to the point of proving the “intellectuality” -of Madam Smut, as evidenced in her maternal piety. Within the -kitchen-door lay a mat, in a hole in which she daily hid a portion of her -lights. She was generally dozing before the fire when her son came in for -the night, and whenever I happened to follow him and watch her movements, -she invariably looked up to see whether he had scented the provender: -and when satisfied on that point, coiled herself up to sleep again. But -her maternal tenderness never interfered with her matronly dignity. Woe -betide Fox, if, in proceeding to take his place at the fire, he attempted -to pass between her and it. She would instantly spring up and deal him -a dab, which prevented for that time a repetition of the indecorum. I -have seen him steal most cautiously along the forbidden path in the -presumption that she was asleep, but I do not remember to have ever seen -him effect a passage. I have said that he leathered all the cats about -him save one--that one was his mother. Determined pugilist and fire-eater -as he was, he never returned the dab she gave him. - -The fact of which I was only an ear-witness may be briefly related. A -lady of this city observing one day a wretched kitten which had been -ruthlessly flung into the street before her residence, had it taken into -the house and carefully tended. Some time after, when it had grown into -a thorough-bred mouser, a strange cat with a broken leg hobbled into the -yard, where it was discovered by the foundling, which immediately took -charge of it, and regularly allotted to the sufferer a portion of its own -daily food till it was sufficiently recovered to shift for itself. - -As a warm friend of the inferior creation, I was much pleased to find -their cause pleaded towards the close of the article, which gave rise -to the present sketch, and a just encomium passed on the author of “the -Rights of Animals.” And much was I gratified to find that the same cause -appears to maintain an abiding interest in the bosom of the first of -living poets. “C. O.” alludes as follows to a conversation he had with -Mr Wordsworth on the subject:--“I remember an observation made to me -by one of the most gifted of the human race--one of the stars of this -generation--the poet of nature and of feeling--the good and the great Mr -Wordsworth. Having the honour of a conversation with him after he had -made a tour through Ireland, I in the course of it asked what was the -thing that most struck his observation here as making us differ from the -English; and he without hesitation said it was the ill-treatment of our -horses: that his soul was often, too often, sick within him at the way -in which he saw these creatures of God abused.” One evening, which I -had the happiness of spending at Rydal Mount, the very same subject was -broached by Mr W. Defend my countrymen I could not, but I parried the -attack by showing that other segments of the united kingdom had little -right to boast over them in this particular. This I proved by adverting -to the notorious cat-skinning of London--a horror unknown in Ireland, -bad as we are--and to certain atrocious cruelties which had just been -perpetrated on some horses in Sutherland (though I must confess that I -know too little of Scotland to pronounce whether its national character -is tarnished by cruelty to animals or not). And much was I surprised when -the son of the poet threw discredit on the character of one of the first -of London newspapers, from which I had cited a recent case in proof of -my assertion. It was in 1833 I visited Rydal Mount. Should this paper -reach the eye of Mr W. jun., he may find my statement corroborated, and -the perpetration of the barbarous trade demonstrated, by referring to the -case of Elizabeth Rogerson, an old offender, who in 1839 was condemned -to the ridiculously lenient penalty of two months’ imprisonment for the -crime, without hard labour. A diametrically opposite opinion respecting -the treatment of horses in Ireland was once expressed to me by another -English gentleman of some celebrity in the religious world. He passed an -encomium on the kindness to animals observable in this country, from the -habit he had noticed among the drivers of jaunting-cars, during his short -stay in Dublin, of feeding their horses from their hands with a wisp of -hay at leisure moments--a pitch of humanity just equivalent to that of -greasing the wheels of their vehicles. - - * * * * * - - Printed and published every Saturday by GUNN and CAMERON, - No. 6, Church Lane, College Green, Dublin; and sold by all - Booksellers. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1, No. -15, October 10, 1840, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IRISH PENNY JOURNAL, OCT 10, 1840 *** - -***** This file should be named 54252-0.txt or 54252-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/2/5/54252/ - -Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by JSTOR www.jstor.org) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1, No. 15, October 10, 1840 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: February 27, 2017 [EBook #54252] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IRISH PENNY JOURNAL, OCT 10, 1840 *** - - - - -Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by JSTOR www.jstor.org) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> - -<h1>THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL.</h1> - -<table summary="Headline layout"> - <tr> - <td class="smcap">Number 15.</td> - <td class="center">SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1840.</td> - <td class="right smcap">Volume I.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="figcenter gap4" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/leixlip.jpg" width="500" height="410" alt="Leixlip town and castle" /> -</div> - -<h2>THE TOWN AND CASTLE OF LEIXLIP, COUNTY OF KILDARE.</h2> - -<p>Localities are no less subject to the capricious mutations -of fashion in taste, than dress, music, or any other of the -various objects on which it displays its extravagant vagaries. -The place which on account of its beauties is at one period -the chosen resort of pleased and admiring crowds, at another -becomes abandoned and unthought of, as if it were an unsightly -desert, unfit for the enjoyment or happiness of civilized -man. Some other locality, perhaps of less natural or -acquired beauty, becomes the fashion of the day, and after a -time gets out of favour in turn, and is neglected for some -other novel scene before unthought of or disregarded. Yet -the principles of true taste are immutable, and that which is -really beautiful is not the less so because it has ceased to attract -the multitude, who are generally governed to a far greater -extent by accidental associations of ideas than by any abstract -feelings of the mind.</p> - -<p>Perhaps it is less attributable to any characteristic volatility -in the character of the inhabitants of our metropolis, -than to the singular variety and number of the beautiful -localities which surround our city, and in emulous rivalry attract -our attention, that this inconstancy of attachment to -any one locality is more strikingly instanced among ourselves, -than among the citizens of any other great town with which -we are acquainted. But, however this may be, the fact is -unquestionable, that there is scarcely a spot of any natural or -improved beauty, within a few miles of us, which has not in -turn had its day of fashion, and its subsequent period of unmerited -neglect. Clontarf, with its sequestered green lanes, -and its glorious views of the bay—Glasnevin, the classical -abode of Addison, Parnell, Tickell, Sheridan, and Delany—Finglas, -with its rural sports—Chapelizod, the residence -of the younger Cromwell—Lucan, Leixlip, with their once -celebrated spas, and all the delightful epic scenery of the -Liffey—Dundrum, with its healthy mountain walks and atmosphere, -and many others unnecessary to mention, all experiencing -the effects of this inconstancy of fashion, have found -their once admired beauties totally disregarded, and the admiration -of the multitude almost wholly transferred to a wild -and unadorned beauty on the rocky shores of Kingstown and -Bullock, which our forefathers deemed unworthy of notice. -But let that beauty take warning from the fate of her predecessors, -and not hold her head too high in her day of triumph, -for she too will assuredly be cast off in turn, and find -herself neglected for some rival as yet unnoticed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> - -<p>Of such unmerited inconstancy and neglect there are no -localities in the neighbourhood of Dublin which have greater -reason to complain than the village of Lucan and that which -forms the subject of our prefixed embellishment. As the -establishment of peace in Ireland led to an increase of civilization, -which exhibited itself in improved roads and vehicles -of conveyance, and the citizens, emerging from their embattled -strongholds, ventured to enjoy the pleasures of nature and -rural life, Lucan and Leixlip, with the beautiful scenery in -which they are situated, became the favourite places of resort; -and their various natural attractions becoming heightened -by art, were described by travellers, and chaunted in -song. About “sixty years since” they had reached their -greatest glory, and Leixlip was the favourite of the day. It -is thus described at this period by the celebrated Doctor -Campbell:—“All the outlets of Dublin are pleasant, but -this is superlatively so which leads through Leixlip, a neat -little village about seven miles from Dublin, up the Liffey; -whose banks being prettily tufted with wood, and enlivened -by gentlemen’s seats, afford a variety of landscapes, beautiful -beyond description.” It was at this period also that O’Keefe, -in his popular opera of “The Poor Soldier,” makes Patrick -sing—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Though Leixlip is proud of its close shady bowers,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Its clear falling waters and murmuring cascades,</div> -<div class="verse">Its groves of fine myrtle, its beds of sweet flowers,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Its lads so well dressed, and its neat pretty maids.”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>But though Leixlip no longer holds out attractions sufficient -to gratify those whose tastes are dependent on fashion, it has -never ceased to be a favourite with all whose tastes had a -more solid foundation. It was here, and in its immediate -vicinity, that the two Robertses, genuine Irish landscape -painters, found many of the most congenial subjects for their -pencils. It was here, too, that the strong-headed painter of -strong heads—the Rembrandt of miniature painters, John -Comerford—used occasionally to retire, abandoning for a week -or two the intellectual society of Dublin which he so much -enjoyed, and the acquisition of gain which he no less relished, -to make some elaborate study of one of the scenes about -the Bridge of Leixlip, which he, in his own dogmatic way, -asserted, “for genuine landscape beauty, could not be surpassed -or even rivalled any where!” This estimate of the -beauties of Leixlip’s “close shady bowers, &c.” was, we confess, -a somewhat extravagant one; yet, like most other honestly -formed opinions of Comerford’s, it would not have been -an easy task to shake his belief in its truth, and to sustain it he -could, if combated, adduce the testimony of his and our friend -Gaspar Gabrielli, the first of Italian landscape painters of our -times, who notwithstanding his pride in being a Roman, and his -national predilections in favour of the classic scenery of his -dear Italy, has often declared in our hearing that he had never -seen in his own country scenery of its kind comparable with -that of the Liffey, in the vicinity of Lucan and Leixlip.</p> - -<p>But enthusiastic admiration of the scenery of Leixlip has -not been confined to the painters. Hear with what gusto our -friend C. O. lets himself out on this subject, not in his drawing-room -character as the clerical Connaught tourist, but -in his more natural, buoyant, and Irish one, as Terence -O’Toole, our co-labourer in the first volume of the <cite>Dublin -Penny Journal</cite>:—</p> - -<p>“Any one passing over the Bridge of Leixlip, must, if his -eye is worth a farthing for anything else than helping him to -pick his way through the puddle, look up and down with delight -while moving over this bridge. To the right, the river -winning its noisy turbulent way over its rocky bed, and losing -itself afar down amidst embossing woods; to the left, -after plunging over the Salmon-leap, whose roar is heard -though half a mile off, and forming a junction with the Rye-water, -it takes a bend to the east, and washes the rich amphitheatre -with which Leixlip is environed. I question much -whether any castle, even Warwick itself [bravo, Terence!] -stands in a grander position than Leixlip Castle, as it embattles -the high and wooded grounds that form the forks of the -two rivers. Of the towers, the round one of course was -built by King John, the opposite square one by the Geraldines. -This noble and grandly circumstanced pile has been -in latter days the baronial residence of the White family, and -subsequently the residence of [lord-lieutenants] generals and -prelates. Here Primate Stone, more a politician than a -Christian [churchman], retired from his contest with the -Ponsonbys and the Boyles to play at cricket with General -Cunningham; here resided Speaker Connolly before he built -his splendid mansion at Castletown; here the <em>great</em> commoner, -as he was called, Tom Connolly, was born. Like many such -edifices, this castle is haunted: character and keeping would -be altogether lost if towers of 600 years’ standing, with rich -mullioned ‘windows that exclude the light, and passages that -lead to nothing,’ with tapestried chambers that have witnessed -pranks of revelry and feats of war, of Norman, Cromwellian, -and Williamite possession, if such a place had not its legend; -and one of Ireland’s wildest geniuses, the eccentric and splendid -Maturin, has decorated the subject with the colourings of -his vivid fancy.”</p> - -<p>Terence adds:—“Leixlip is memorable in an historic point -of view as the place where, in the war commencing 1641, General -Preston halted when on his way to form a junction with -the Marquis of Ormonde to oppose the Parliamentarians. -Acknowledging that his army was not excommunication proof, -he bowed before the fiat of the Nuncio, and lost the best opportunity -that ever offered of saving his cause and his country -from what has been called the ‘curse of Cromwell.’”</p> - -<p>To this brief but graphic sketch of our friend we can add -but little. Leixlip is a market and post town of the county of -Kildare, situated in the barony of North <em>Salt</em>—a name derived -from the Latin appellation of the cataract called the -<i>Saltus Salmonis</i>, “Salmon Leap,” in the vicinity of the town—and -is about eight miles from Dublin. It contains between eleven -and twelve hundred inhabitants, and consists of one long -street of houses, well, though irregularly built, but exhibiting -for the greater number an appearance of negligence and decay. -It is bounded on one extremity by the river Liffey, -which is crossed by a bridge of ancient construction, and on -the other by the Rye-water, over which there is a bridge of -modern date. As the focus of a parish, it has a church and a -Roman Catholic chapel, both of ample size and substantial -construction, but, like most edifices of their class in Ireland, -but little remarkable for the purity of their architectural -styles. The latter is of recent erection. Its most imposing -architectural feature is, however, its castle, which is -magnificently situated on a steep and richly wooded bank over -the Liffey; but though of great antiquity, it exhibits in its -external character but little of the appearance of an ancient -fortress, having been modernised by the Hon. George Cavendish, -its present occupier. On its west side it is flanked by a -circular, and on its east by a square tower. This castle is -supposed to have been erected in the reign of Henry II. by -Adam de Hereford, one of the chief followers of Earl Strongbow, -from whom he received as a gift the tenement of the -Salmon Leap, and other extensive possessions. It is said to -have been the occasional residence of Prince John during his -governorship of Ireland in the reign of his father; and in recent -times it was a favourite retreat of several of the Viceroys, -one of whom, Lord Townsend, usually spent the summer here. -From an inquisition taken in 1604, it appears that the manor -of Leixlip was part of the possessions of the abbey of St Thomas -in Dublin. In 1668, the castle, with sixty acres of land, -belonged to the Earl of Kildare. They afterwards passed -into the hands of the Right Hon. Thomas Connolly, Speaker -of the Irish House of Commons, and are now the property of -Colonel Connolly of Castletown.</p> - -<p class="right">P.</p> - -<h2 class="gap4">THE CHASE,<br /> -<span class="smaller">A POEM TRANSLATED FROM THE IRISH—CONCLUDED.</span></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse speaker">PATRICK.</div> -<div class="verse">O son of kings, adorned with grace,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">’Twere music to my ear,</div> -<div class="verse">Of Fionn and his wondrous chase</div> -<div class="verse indent1">The promised tale to hear.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse speaker">OISIN.</div> -<div class="verse">Well—though afresh my bosom bleeds,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Remembering days of old—</div> -<div class="verse">When I think of my sire and his mighty deeds—</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Yet shall the tale be told.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">While the Fenian bands at Almhuin’s towers,</div> -<div class="verse">In the hall of spears, passed the festive hours,</div> -<div class="verse">The goblet crowned, with chessmen played,<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></div> -<div class="verse">Or gifts for gifts of love repaid;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">From the reckless throng Finn stole unseen,</div> -<div class="verse">When he spied a young doe on the heath-clad green</div> -<div class="verse indent1">With agile spring draw near:</div> -<div class="verse">On Sceolan and Bran his nimble hounds</div> -<div class="verse">He whistles aloud, and away he bounds</div> -<div class="verse indent1">In chase of the hornless deer.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">With his hounds alone and his trusty blade,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">The son of Luno’s skill,</div> -<div class="verse">On the track of the flying doe he strayed</div> -<div class="verse indent1">To Guillin’s pathless hill.</div> -<div class="verse">But when he came to its hard-won height</div> -<div class="verse indent1">No deer appeared in view;</div> -<div class="verse">If east or west she had sped her flight</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Nor hounds nor huntsman knew.</div> -<div class="verse">But those sprang westward o’er the sod,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">While eastward Fionn press’d—</div> -<div class="verse">Why did not pity touch thy God</div> -<div class="verse indent1">To see them thus distress’d?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">There while he gazes anxious round,</div> -<div class="verse">Sudden he hears a doleful sound,</div> -<div class="verse">And by a lake of crystal sheen</div> -<div class="verse">Spies a nymph of loveliest form and mien:</div> -<div class="verse">Her cheeks as the rose were crimson bright,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Her lips the red berry’s glow;</div> -<div class="verse">Her neck as the polished marble<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> white,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Her breast the pure blossom’s full blow;</div> -<div class="verse">Downy gold were her locks, and her sparkling eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Like freezing stars in the ebon skies.</div> -<div class="verse">Such beauty, O Sage, all cold as thou art,</div> -<div class="verse">Would kindle warm raptures of love in thy heart.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Nigh to the nymph of golden hair</div> -<div class="verse indent1">With courteous grace he drew—</div> -<div class="verse">“O hast thou seen, enchantress fair,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">My hounds their game pursue?”<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse speaker">NYMPH.</div> -<div class="verse">“Thy hounds I saw not in the chase,</div> -<div class="verse">O noble prince of the Fenian race;</div> -<div class="verse">But I have cause of woe more deep,</div> -<div class="verse">For which I linger here and weep.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse speaker">FIONN.</div> -<div class="verse">“O, hast thou lost a husband dear?</div> -<div class="verse">Falls for a darling son thy tear,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Or daughter of thy heart?</div> -<div class="verse">Sweet, soft-palmed nymph, the cause reveal</div> -<div class="verse">To one who can thy sorrows feel,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Perchance can ease thy smart?”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The maid of tresses fair replied—</div> -<div class="verse indent1">“A precious ring I wore;</div> -<div class="verse">Dropped from my finger in the tide,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Its loss I now deplore:</div> -<div class="verse">But by the sacred vows that bind</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Each brave and loyal knight,</div> -<div class="verse">I now adjure thee, Chief, to find</div> -<div class="verse indent1">My peerless jewel bright.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">He feels her adjuration’s ties;</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Disrobes each manly limb,</div> -<div class="verse">And for the smooth-palmed princess hies</div> -<div class="verse indent1">The gulfy lake to swim.</div> -<div class="verse">Five times deep-diving down the wave,</div> -<div class="verse">Through every cranny, nook, and cave,</div> -<div class="verse">With care he searches round and round,</div> -<div class="verse">Till the golden ring at length he found;</div> -<div class="verse">But scarce to shore the prize could bring,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">When by some blasting ban—</div> -<div class="verse">Ah! piteous tale—the Fenian king</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Grew a withered, grey, old man!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Meanwhile the Fenians passed the hours</div> -<div class="verse">In the hall of spears, at Almhuin’s towers;</div> -<div class="verse">The goblet crowned, with chessmen played,</div> -<div class="verse">Or gifts for gifts of love repaid,</div> -<div class="verse">When Caoilte rose and asked in grief,</div> -<div class="verse">“Ye spearmen, where is our gallant chief?</div> -<div class="verse">O, lost I dread is the Fenians’ boast—</div> -<div class="verse">Then who shall lead our bannered host?”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Bald Conan spoke—“A sweeter sound</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Ne’er tingled on my ear;</div> -<div class="verse">If Fionn be lost, may he not be found</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Till end the distant year!</div> -<div class="verse">But, Caoilte of the nimble feet,</div> -<div class="verse">Ye shall not want a chieftain meet;</div> -<div class="verse">In me, till Fionn’s fate be told,</div> -<div class="verse">The leader of your host behold!”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Although the Fenian bands were torn</div> -<div class="verse indent1">With agony severe,</div> -<div class="verse">We burst into a laugh of scorn</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Such arrogance to hear.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">To urge the quest, we then decree,</div> -<div class="verse">Of Finn and his hounds the joyous three</div> -<div class="verse indent1">That still to triumph led;</div> -<div class="verse">And soon from Almhuin’s halls away,</div> -<div class="verse">With Caoilte, I, and our dark array,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">North to Slew Guillin sped.</div> -<div class="verse">There, as with searching glance the eye</div> -<div class="verse indent1">O’er all the prospect rolled,</div> -<div class="verse">Beside the lake a wretch we spy,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Poor, withered, grey, and old.</div> -<div class="verse">Disgust and horror touched the heart</div> -<div class="verse">To see the bones all fleshless start</div> -<div class="verse indent1">In a frame so lank and wan;</div> -<div class="verse">We thought him some starved fisher torn</div> -<div class="verse">From the whelming stream, by famine worn,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">And left but the wreck of man.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">We asked if he had chanced to see</div> -<div class="verse indent1">A swift-paced chieftain go,</div> -<div class="verse">With two fleet hounds, across the lea,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Behind a fair young doe.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">He gave us back no answer clear,</div> -<div class="verse">But in the nimble Caoilte’s ear</div> -<div class="verse">He breathed his tale—O, tale of grief!—</div> -<div class="verse">That in him we saw the Fenian chief!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Three sudden shouts to hear the tale</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Our host raised loud and shrill—</div> -<div class="verse">The badgers started in the vale,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">The wild deer on the hill.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then Conan fierce unsheathed his sword,</div> -<div class="verse">And curs’d the Fenian king and his horde.</div> -<div class="verse indent1">“If true thy tale,” he cries,</div> -<div class="verse">“This blade thy head would off thee smite;</div> -<div class="verse">For ne’er my valour in the fight,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Nor prowess didst thou prize.</div> -<div class="verse">Would that like thee, both old and weak,</div> -<div class="verse">Were the Fenians all, that my sword might reek</div> -<div class="verse">In their craven blood, and their cairns might swell</div> -<div class="verse">On the grassy lea!—for since Cumhail fell,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">O’ercome in fateful strife</div> -<div class="verse">By Morni’s son of the golden shields,</div> -<div class="verse">Our sons thou hast sent to foreign fields,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Or of freedom reft and life.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“Bald, senseless wretch! our care is due</div> -<div class="verse">To Finn’s sad state, or thy mouth should rue</div> -<div class="verse">A speech so vile, and soon atone</div> -<div class="verse">With shattered teeth and fractured bone.”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse indent1">Indignant Caoilte spoke.</div> -<div class="verse">With equal wrath said Oscar stern,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">“Audacious babbler! silence learn—</div> -<div class="verse">What foe e’er felt thy stroke?”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then Conan thus—“Vain boy! be dumb,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Or tell what deed of fame</div> -<div class="verse">Did e’er thy Finn, but gnaw his thumb<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></div> -<div class="verse indent1">Until the marrow came?</div> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">We</span>, not Clan-Boske, did the deed</div> -<div class="verse">Whene’er we saw the foemen bleed.</div> -<div class="verse">Behind thee, Oisin, may thy son</div> -<div class="verse">A puling, whining chanter run,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">And bear white book and bell.</div> -<div class="verse">His words I scorn—in open fight,</div> -<div class="verse">Which of us twain is in the right</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Let swords, not speeches, tell.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Him answered Oscar’s trusty steel;</div> -<div class="verse">When craven Conan, taught to feel,</div> -<div class="verse">And trembling for his worthless life,</div> -<div class="verse">The Fenians prayed to end the strife,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">And stay rough Oscar’s blade.</div> -<div class="verse">Between them swift the Fenians rushed,</div> -<div class="verse">The rising storm of battle hushed,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">And Oscar’s vengeance stayed.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Of Cumhail’s son then Caoilte sought</div> -<div class="verse">What wizard Danan foe had wrought</div> -<div class="verse">Such piteous change—and Finn replied,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">“’Twas Guillin’s daughter—me she bound</div> -<div class="verse">By a sacred spell to search the tide</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Till the ring she lost was found.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then Conan spoke in altered mood—</div> -<div class="verse indent1">“Safe may we ne’er depart,</div> -<div class="verse">Till we see restored our chieftain good,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Or Guillin rue his art!”</div> -<div class="verse">Then close around our chief we throng,</div> -<div class="verse">And bear him on our shields along.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Eight days and nights the caverned seat</div> -<div class="verse">Where Guillin made his dark retreat</div> -<div class="verse indent1">We dig with sleepless care;</div> -<div class="verse">Pour through its windings close the light,</div> -<div class="verse">Till we see, in all her radiance bright,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Spring forth th’ enchantress fair.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A chalice she bore of angled mould,<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></div> -<div class="verse">And sparkling rich with gems and gold;</div> -<div class="verse">Its brimming fount in the hand she placed</div> -<div class="verse">Of Finn, whose looks small beauty graced.</div> -<div class="verse">Feeble he drinks—the potion speeds</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Through every joint and pore;</div> -<div class="verse">To palsied age fresh youth succeeds—</div> -<div class="verse">Finn of the swift and slender steeds</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Becomes himself once more.</div> -<div class="verse">His shape, his strength, his bloom returns,</div> -<div class="verse">And in manly glory bright he burns!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">We gave three shouts that rent the air—</div> -<div class="verse indent1">The badgers fled the vale:</div> -<div class="verse">And now, O sage of frugal care,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Hast thou not heard the tale?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse right">D.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The game of chess is repeatedly noticed in connection with various historical -incidents in the early history of Ireland. Theophilus O’Flanagan, -in a note to his translation of <cite>Deirdri</cite>, an ancient Irish tale, published in the -Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Dublin, speaks of it as “a military -game that engages the mental faculties, like mathematical science.” O’Flaherty’s -Ogygia states that Cathir, the 120th king of Ireland, left among his -bequests to Crimthan “two chess-boards with their chess-men distinguished -with their specks and power; on which account he was constituted master -of the games in Leinster.”</p> - -<p>In the first book of Homer’s Odyssey the suitors are described as amusing -themselves with the game of chess:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>With rival art and ardour in their mien,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>At chess they vie to captivate the queen,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Divining of their loves.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>In Pope’s translation there is a learned note on the subject, to which the -curious reader is referred; and also to a passage in Vallancey’s Essay on the -Celtic Language.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Literally, <em>as lime</em>.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> This will remind the reader of a similar question by Venus in the first -Eneid:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse indent2">——Heus inquit, juvenes monstrate mearum</div> -<div class="verse">Vidistis usquam hic errantem forte sororum</div> -<div class="verse">Succinctam pharetra, et maculosæ tegmine lyncis,</div> -<div class="verse">Aut spumantis apri cursum clamore prementem?—<span class="smcap">En.</span> I. 325.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Ho, strangers! have you lately seen, she said,</div> -<div class="verse">One of my sisters, like myself array’d,</div> -<div class="verse">Who cross’d the lawn or in the forest stray’d?</div> -<div class="verse">A painted quiver at her back she bore;</div> -<div class="verse">Varied with spots, a lynx’s hide she wore;</div> -<div class="verse">And at full cry pursued the tusky boar.—<span class="smcap">Dryden.</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> A note in Miss Brooke’s translations informs us that “Finn was reproached -with deriving all his courage from his foreknowledge of events, -and chewing his thumb for prophetic information.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Quadrangular—the ancient cup of the Irish, called <i lang="ga">meadar</i>. Specimens -of it may be seen in the Antiquarian Museum of the Royal Irish Academy.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<p class="gap4"><span class="smcap">Discretion.</span>—This is a nice perception of what is right -and proper under the circumstances in which a person is -called to act. It may be illustrated by the <em>feelers</em> of the cat, -which are long hairs placed upon her nose, with which she -readily measures the space between sticks and stones through -which she desires to pass, and thus determines, by a delicate -touch, whether it is sufficiently large to let her go through -without being scratched. Thus discretion appreciates difficulties, -dangers, and obstructions around, and enables a person -to decide upon the proper course of action. “There are -many more shining qualities in the mind of man, but there is -none so useful as discretion. It is this which gives a value to -all the rest, which sets them at work, and turns them to the -advantage of the person who is possessed of them. Without -it, learning is pedantry and wit impertinence; nay, virtue -itself often looks like weakness. Discretion not only shows -itself in words, but in all the circumstances of action; and is -like an agent of Providence, to guide and direct us in the ordinary -chances of life.” But how shall discretion be cultivated -in children? Chiefly by example. It is a virtue especially -committed to the cultivation of the mother. She may do -much to promote it, by rebuking acts of imprudence, and bestowing -due encouragement upon acts of discretion. Let the -mother remember that discretion is important to men, and -see that she cherishes it in her sons; let her remember that it -is essential to women, and make sure of it in her daughters.—<cite>Dr -Channing.</cite></p> - -<h2 class="gap4">THE IRISH MATCHMAKER.<br /> -<span class="smaller">BY WILLIAM CARLETON.</span></h2> - -<p>Though this word at a glance may be said to explain itself, -yet lest our English or Scotch readers might not clearly understand -its meaning, we shall briefly give them such a definition -of it as will enable them to comprehend it in its full extent. -The Irish Matchmaker, then, is a person selected to conduct -reciprocity treaties of the heart between lovers themselves in -the first instance, or, where the principal parties are indifferent, -between their respective families, when the latter happen -to be of opinion that it is a safer and more prudent thing to -consult the interest of the young folk rather than their inclination. -In short, the Matchmaker is the person engaged in -carrying from one party to another all the messages, letters, -tokens, presents, and secret communications of the tender passion, -in whatever shape or character the said parties may deem -it proper to transmit them. The Matchmaker, therefore, is -a general negociator in all such matters of love or interest as -are designed by the principals or their friends to terminate in -the honourable bond of marriage; for with nothing morally -improper or licentious, or approaching to the character of an -intrigue, will the regular Irish Matchmaker have any thing at -all to do. The Matchmaker, therefore, after all, is only the -creature of necessity, and is never engaged by an Irishman -unless to remove such preliminary obstacles as may stand in -the way of his own direct operations. In point of fact, the -Matchmaker is nothing but a pioneer, who, after the plan of -the attack has been laid down, clears away some of the rougher -difficulties, until the regular advance is made, the siege opened -in due form, and the citadel successfully entered by the principal -party.</p> - -<p>We have said thus much to prevent our fair neighbours of -England and Scotland from imagining that because such a -character as the Irish Matchmaker exists at all, Irishmen are -personally deficient in that fluent energy which is so necessary -to express the emotions of the tender passion. Addison has -proved to the satisfaction of any rational mind that modesty -and assurance are inseparable—that a blushing face may accompany -a courageous, nay, a desperate heart—and that, on -the contrary, an abundance of assurance may be associated -with a very handsome degree of modesty. In love matters, I -grant, modesty is the <i lang="it">forte</i> of an Irishman, whose character in -this respect has been unconsciously hit off by the poet. Indeed -he may truly be termed <i lang="la">vultus ingenui puer, ingenuique pudoris</i>; -which means, when translated, that in looking for a wife an -Irishman is “a <em>boy</em> of an <em>easy</em> face, and remarkable modesty.”</p> - -<p>At the head of the Matchmakers, and far above all competitors, -stands the Irish Midwife, of whose abilities in this way -it is impossible to speak too highly. And let not our readers -imagine that the duties which devolve upon her, as well as -upon matchmakers in general, are slight or easily discharged. -To conduct a matter of this kind ably, great tact, knowledge -of character, and very delicate handling, are necessary. To -be incorruptible, faithful to both parties, not to give offence -to either, and to obviate detection in case of secret bias or partiality, -demand talents of no common order. The amount of -fortune is often to be regulated—the good qualities of the parties -placed in the best, or, what is often still more judicious, -in the most suitable light—and when there happens to be a -scarcity of the commodity, it must be furnished from her own -invention. The miser is to be softened, the contemptuous -tone of the purse-proud <i lang="ga">bodagh</i> lowered without offence, the -crafty cajoled, and sometimes the unsuspecting overreached. -Now, all this requires an able hand, as matchmaking in general -among the Irish does. Indeed I question whether the -wiliest politician that ever attempted to manage a treaty of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> -peace between two hostile powers could have a more difficult -card to play than often falls to the lot of the Irish Matchmaker.</p> - -<p>The Midwife, however, from her confidential intercourse -with the sex, and the respect with which both young and old -of them look upon her, is peculiarly well qualified for the office. -She has seen the youth shoot up and ripen into the young man—she -has seen the young man merged into the husband, and -the husband very frequently lost in the wife. Now, the marks -and tokens by which she noted all this are as perceptible in -the young of this day as they were in the young of fifty -years ago; she consequently knows from experience how to -manage each party, so as to bring about the consummation -which she so devoutly wishes.</p> - -<p>Upon second thoughts, however, we are inclined to think after -all that the right of precedence upon this point does not exclusively -belong to the Midwife; or at least, that there exists another -person who contests it with her so strongly that we are -scarcely capable of determining their respective claims: this -is the <em>Cosherer</em>. The Cosherer in Ireland is a woman who goes -from one relation’s house to another, from friend to friend, -from acquaintance to acquaintance—is always welcome, and -uniformly well treated. The very extent of her connexions -makes her independent; so that if she receives an affront, -otherwise a cold reception, from one, she never feels it to affect -her comfort, but on the contrary carries it about with her -in the shape of a complaint to the rest, and details it with -such a rich spirit of vituperative enjoyment, that we believe -in our soul some of her friends, knowing what healthful occupation -it gives her, actually affront her from pure kindness. -The Cosherer is the very impersonation of industry. Unless -when asleep, no mortal living ever saw her hands idle. Her -principal employment is knitting; and whether she sits, stands, -or walks, there she is with the end of the stocking under her -arm, knit, knit, knitting. She also sews and quilts; and -whenever a quilting is going forward, she can tell you at once -in what neighbour’s house the quilting-frame was used last, -and where it is now to be had; and when it has been got, she -is all bustle and business, ordering and commanding about -her—her large red three-cornered pincushion hanging conspicuously -at her side, a lump of chalk in one hand, and a coil of -twine in the other, ready to mark the pattern, whether it be -wave, square, or diamond.</p> - -<p>The Cosherer is always dressed with neatness and comfort, -but generally wears something about her that reminds one of -a day gone by, and may be considered as the lingering remnant -of some old custom that has fallen into disuse. This, -slight as it is, endears her to many, for it stands out as the -memorial of some old and perhaps affecting associations, which -at its very appearance are called out from the heart in which -they were slumbering.</p> - -<p>It is impossible to imagine a happier life than that of the -Cosherer. She has evidently no trouble, no care, no children, -nor any of the various claims of life, to disturb or encumber -her. Wherever she goes she is made, and finds herself, perfectly -at home. The whole business of her life is carrying -about intelligence, making and projecting matches, singing old -songs and telling old stories, which she frequently does with -a feeling and unction not often to be met with. She will sing -you the different sets and variations of the old airs, repeat the -history and traditions of old families, recite <i lang="ga">ranns</i>, interpret -dreams, give the origin of old local customs, and tell a ghost -story in a style that would make your hair stand on end. She -is a bit of a doctress, too—an extensive herbalist, and is very -skilful and lucky among children. In short, she is a perfect -Gentleman’s Magazine in her way—a regular repertory of -traditionary lore, a collector and distributor of social antiquities, -dealing in every thing that is timeworn or old, and handling -it with such a quiet and antique air, that one would imagine -her life to be a life not of years but of centuries, and -that she had passed the greater portion of it, long as it was, -in “wandering by the shores of old romance.”</p> - -<p>Such a woman the reader will at once perceive is a formidable -competitor for popular confidence with the Midwife. -Indeed there is but one consideration alone upon which we -would be inclined to admit that the latter has any advantage -over her—and it is, that she <em>is the Midwife</em>; a word which is -a tower of strength to her, not only against all professional -opponents, but against such analogous characters as would -intrude even upon any of her subordinate or collateral offices. -As matchmakers, it is extremely difficult to decide between -her and the Cosherer; so much so, indeed, that we are disposed -to leave the claim for priority undetermined. In this -respect each pulls in the same harness; and as they are so well -matched, we will allow them to jog on side by side, drawing -the youngsters of the neighbouring villages slowly but surely -towards the land of matrimony.</p> - -<p>In humble country life, as in high life, we find in nature the -same principles and motives of action. Let not the speculating -mother of rank, nor the husband-hunting dowager, imagine -for a moment that the plans, stratagems, lures, and trap-falls, -with which they endeavour to secure some wealthy fool -for their daughters, are not known and practised—ay, and -with as much subtlety and circumvention too—by the very -humblest of their own sex. In these matters they have not -one whit of superiority over the lowest, sharpest, and most -fraudulent gossip of a country village, where the arts of women -are almost as sagaciously practised, and the small scandal as -ably detailed, as in the highest circles of fashion.</p> - -<p>The third great master of the art of matchmaking is the -<em>Shanahus</em>, who is nothing more or less than the counterpart of -the Cosherer; for as the Cosherer is never of the male sex, so -the Shanahus is never of the female. With respect to their -habits and modes of life, the only difference between them is, -that as the Cosherer is never idle, so the Shanahus never works; -and the latter is a far superior authority in old popular prophecy -and genealogy. As a matchmaker, however, the Shanahus -comes infinitely short of the Cosherer; for the truth is, -that this branch of diplomacy falls naturally within the manœuvring -and intriguing spirit of a woman.</p> - -<p>Our readers are not to understand that in Ireland there -exists, like the fiddler or dancing-master, a distinct character -openly known by the appellation of matchmaker. No such -thing. On the contrary, the negotiations they undertake are -all performed under false colours. The business, in fact, is close -and secret, and always carried on with the profoundest mystery, -veiled by the sanction of some other ostensible occupation.</p> - -<p>One of the best specimens of the kind we ever met was old -Rose Mohan, or, as she was called, Moan, a name, we doubt, -fearfully expressive of the consequences which too frequently -followed her own negociations. Rose was a tidy creature of -middle size, who always went dressed in a short crimson cloak -much faded, a striped red and blue drugget petticoat, and a -heather-coloured gown of the same fabric. When walking, -which she did with the aid of a light hazel staff hooked at the -top, she generally kept the hood of the cloak over her head, -which gave to her whole figure a picturesque effect; and when -she threw it back, one could not help admiring how well her -small but symmetrical features agreed with the dowd cap of -white linen, with a plain muslin border, which she wore. A -pair of blue stockings and sharp-pointed shoes high in the -heels completed her dress. Her features were good-natured -and Irish; but there lay over the whole countenance an expression -of quickness and sagacity, contracted no doubt by a -habitual exercise of penetration and circumspection. At the -time I saw her she was very old, and I believe had the reputation -of being the last in that part of the country who was -known to go about from house to house spinning on the distaff, -an instrument which has now passed away, being more -conveniently replaced by the spinning-wheel.</p> - -<p>The manner and style of Rose’s visits were different from -those of any other who could come to a farmer’s house, or -even to an humble cottage, for to the inmates of both were -her services equally rendered. Let us suppose, for instance, -the whole female part of a farmer’s family assembled of a summer -evening about five o’clock, each engaged in some domestic -employment: in runs a lad who has been sporting about, -breathlessly exclaiming, whilst his eyes are lit up with delight, -“Mother! mother! here’s Rose Moan coming down the boreen!” -“Get out, avick; no, she’s not.” “Bad cess to me -but she is; that I may never stir if she isn’t! Now!” The -whole family are instantly at the door to see if it be she, with -the exception of the prettiest of them all, Kitty, who sits at -her wheel, and immediately begins to croon over an old Irish -air which is sadly out of tune; and well do we know, notwithstanding -the mellow tones of that sweet voice, why it is -so, and also why that youthful cheek in which health and -beauty meet, is now the colour of crimson.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="ga">Oh, Rosha, acushla, cead millie failte ghud!</i> (Rose, darlin’, -a hundred thousand welcomes to you!) Och, musha, what -kep you away so long, Rose? Sure you won’t lave us this -month o’ Sundays, Rose?” are only a few of the cordial expressions -of hospitality and kindness with which she is received. -But Kitty, whose cheek but a moment ago was carmine, why -is it now pale as the lily?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<p>“An’ what news, Rose?” asks one of her sisters; “sure -you’ll tell us every thing; won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Throth, avillish, <em>I have no bad news</em>, any how—an’ as to -tellin’ you <em>all</em>—Biddy, <i lang="ga">lhig dumh</i>, let me alone. No, I have no -bad news, God be praised, <em>but good news</em>.”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s cheek is again crimson, and her lips, ripe and red as -cherries, expand with the sweet soft smile of her country, exhibiting -a set of teeth for which many a countess would barter -thousands, and giving out a breath more delicious than the -fragrance of a summer meadow. Oh, no wonder, indeed, that -the kind heart of Rose contains in its recesses a message to -her as tender as ever was transmitted from man to woman!</p> - -<p>“An’, Kitty, acushla, where’s the welcome from <em>you</em>, that’s -my favourite? Now don’t be jealous, childre; sure you all -know she is, an’ ever an’ always was.”</p> - -<p>“If it’s not upon my lips, it’s in my heart, Rose, an’ from -that heart you’re welcome!”</p> - -<p>She rises up and kisses Rose, who gives her one glance of -meaning, accompanied by the slightest imaginable smile, and -a gentle but significant pressure of the hand, which thrills to -her heart and diffuses a sense of ecstacy through her whole -spirit. Nothing now remains but the opportunity, which is -equally sought for by Rose and her, to hear without interruption -the purport of her lover’s communication; and this we -leave to lovers to imagine.</p> - -<p>In Ireland, however odd it may seem, there occur among -the very poorest classes some of the hardest and most penurious -bargains in matchmaking that ever were heard of or -known. Now, strangers might imagine that all this close higgling -proceeds from a spirit naturally near and sordid, but it -is not so. The real secret of it lies in the poverty and necessity -of the parties, and chiefly in the bitter experience of their -parents, who, having come together in a state of destitution, -are anxious, each as much at the expense of the other as possible, -to prevent their children from experiencing the same -privation and misery which they themselves felt. Many a -time have matches been suspended or altogether broken off -because one party refuses to give his son a slip of a pig, or -another his daughter a pair of blankets; and it was no unusual -thing for a matchmaker to say, “Never mind; I have -it all settled <em>but the slip</em>.” One might naturally wonder why -those who are so shrewd and provident upon this subject do -not strive to prevent early marriages where the poverty is so -great. So unquestionably they ought, but it is a settled usage -of the country, and one too which Irishmen have never been -in the habit of considering as an evil. We have no doubt -that if they once began to reason upon it as such, they would -be very strongly disposed to check a custom which has been -the means of involving themselves and their unhappy offspring -in misery, penury, and not unfrequently in guilt itself.</p> - -<p>Rose, like many others in this world who are not conscious -of the same failing, smelt strongly of the shop; in other words, -her conversation had a strong matrimonial tendency. No two -beings ever lived so decidedly antithetical to each other in this -point of view as the Matchmaker and the Keener. Mention -the name of an individual or a family to the Keener, and the -medium through which her memory passes back to them is -that of her professed employment—a mourner at wakes and -funerals.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you know young Kelly of Tamlaght?”</p> - -<p>“I do, avick,” replies the Keener, “and what about him?”</p> - -<p>“Why, he was married to-day mornin’ to ould Jack M’Cluskey’s -daughter.”</p> - -<p>“Well, God grant them luck an’ happiness, poor things! -I do indeed remember his father’s wake an’ funeral well—ould -Risthard Kelly of Tamlaght—a dacent corpse he made for -his years, an’ well he looked. But indeed I <em>knewn</em> by the -colour that sted in his checks, an’ the limbs remainin’ soople for -the twenty-four hours afther his departure, that some of the -family ’ud follow him afore the year was out: an’ so she did. -The youngest daughter, poor thing, by raison of a could she -got, over-heatin’ herself at a dance, was stretched beside him -that very day was eleven months; and God knows it was from -the heart my grief came for <em>her</em>—to see the poor handsome -colleen laid low so soon. But when a gallopin’ consumption -sets in, avourneen, sure we all know what’s to happen. In -Crockaniska churchyard they sleep—the Lord make both their -beds in heaven this day!” The very reverse of this, but at -the same time as inveterately professional, was Rose Moan.</p> - -<p>“God save you, Rose.”</p> - -<p>“God save you kindly, avick. Eh!—let me look at you. -Aren’t you red Billy M’Guirk’s son from Ballagh?”</p> - -<p>“I am, Rose. An’, Rose, how is yourself an’ the world gettin’ -an?”</p> - -<p>“Can’t complain, dear, in such times. How are yez all at -home, alanna?”</p> - -<p>“Faix, middlin’ well, Rose, thank God an’ -you.—You heard of my granduncle’s death, big Ned M’Coul?”</p> - -<p>“I did, avick, God rest him. Sure it’s well I remimber his -weddin’, poor man, by the same atoken that I know one that -helped him on wid it a thrifle. He was married in a blue coat -and buckskins, an’ wore a scarlet waistcoat that you’d see -three miles off. Oh, well I remimber it. An’ whin he was -settin’ out that mornin’ to the priest’s house, ‘Ned,’ says I, -an’ I fwhishspered him, ‘dhrop a button on the right knee -afore you get the words said.’ ‘<i lang="ga">Thighum</i>,’ said he, wid a -smile, an’ he slipped ten thirteens into my hand as he spoke. -‘I’ll do it,’ said he, ‘and thin a fig for the fairies!’—becase -you see if there’s a button of the right knee left unbuttoned, -the fairies—this day’s Friday, God stand betune us and harm!—can -do neither hurt nor harm to sowl or body, an’ sure that’s -a great blessin’, avick. He left two fine slips o’ girls behind -him.”</p> - -<p>“He did so—as good-lookin’ girls as there’s in the parish.”</p> - -<p>“Faix, an’ kind mother for them, avick. She’ll be marryin’ -agin, I’m judgin’, she bein’ sich a fresh good-lookin’ woman.”</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s very likely, Rose.”</p> - -<p>“Throth it’s natural, achora. What can a lone woman do -wid such a large farm upon her hands, widout having some -one to manage it for her, an’ prevint her from bein’ imposed -on? But indeed the first thing she ought to do is to marry off -her two girls widout loss of time, in regard that it’s hard to -say how a stepfather an’ thim might agree; and I’ve often -known the mother herself, when she had a fresh family comin’ -an her, to be as unnatural to her fatherless childre as if she -was a stranger to thim, and that the same blood did’nt run in -their veins. Not saying that Mary M’Coul will or would act -that way by her own; for indeed she’s come of a kind ould -stock, an’ ought to have a good heart. Tell her, avick, when -you see her, that I’ll spind a day or two wid her—let me -see—to-morrow will be Palm Sunday—why, about the Aisther -holidays.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed I will, Rose, with great pleasure.”</p> - -<p>“An’ fwhishsper, dear, jist tell her that I’ve a thing to say -to her—that I had a long dish o’ discoorse about her wid <em>a -friend o’ mine</em>. You wont forget now?”</p> - -<p>“Oh the dickens a forget!”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, dear: God mark you to grace, avourneen! -When you’re a little ouldher, maybe I’ll be a friend to you yet.”</p> - -<p>This last intimation was given with a kind of mysterious -benevolence, very visible in the complacent shrewdness of her -face, and with a twinkle in the eye, full of grave humour and -considerable self-importance, leaving the mind of the person -she spoke to in such an agreeable uncertainty as rendered it -a matter of great difficulty to determine whether she was serious -or only in jest, but at all events throwing the onus of -inquiry upon him.</p> - -<p>The ease and tact with which Rose could involve two young -persons of opposite sexes in a mutual attachment, were very -remarkable. In truth, she was a kind of matrimonial incendiary, -who went through the country holding her torch now -to this heart and again to that—first to one and then to another, -until she had the parish more or less in a flame. And -when we consider the combustible materials of which the Irish -heart is composed, it is no wonder indeed that the labour of -taking the census in Ireland increases at such a rapid rate -during the time that elapses between the periods of its being -made out. If Rose, for instance, met a young woman of her -acquaintance accidentally—and it was wonderful to think -how regularly these accidental meetings took place—she -would address her probably somewhat as follows:—</p> - -<p>“Arra, Biddy Sullivan, how are you, a-colleen?”</p> - -<p>“Faix, bravely, thank you, Rose. How is yourself?”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, thin, sorra bit o’ the health we can complain of, -Bhried, barrin’ whin this pain in the back comes upon us. The -last time I seen your mother, Biddy, she was complainin’ of a -<i lang="ga">weid</i>.<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> I hope she’s betther, poor woman?”</p> - -<p>“Hut! bad scran to the thing ails her! She has as light -a foot as e’er a one of us, an’ can dance ‘Jackson’s mornin’ -brush’ as well as ever she could.”</p> - -<p>“Throth, an’ I’m proud to hear it. Och! och! ‘Jackson’s -mornin’ brush!’ and it was she that <em>could</em> do it. Sure I remimber<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> -her wedding-day like yestherday. Ay, far an’ near -her fame wint as a dancer, an’ the clanest-made girl that ever -came from Lisbuie. Like yestherday do I remimber it, an’ -how the squire himself an’ the ladies from the Big House came -down to see herself an’ your father, the bride and groom—an’ -it wasn’t on every hill head you’d get sich a couple—dancin’ -the same ‘Jackson’s mornin’ brush.’ Oh! it was far -and near her fame wint for dancin’ that.—An’ is there no news -wid you, Bhried, at all at all?”</p> - -<p>“The sorra word, Rose: where ud I get news? Sure it’s -yourself that’s always on the fut that ought to have the news -for <em>us</em>, Rose alive.”</p> - -<p>“An’ maybe I have too. I was spaikin’ to a friend o’ mine -about you the other day.”</p> - -<p>“A friend o’ yours, Rose! Why, what friend could it be?”</p> - -<p>“A friend o’ mine—ay, an’ of yours too. Maybe you have -more friends than you think, Biddy—and kind ones too, as far -as wishin’ you well goes, ’tany rate. Ay have you, faix, an’ -friends that e’er a girl in the parish might be proud to hear -named in the one day wid her. Awouh!”</p> - -<p>“Bedad we’re in luck, thin, for that’s more than I knew of. -An’ who may these great friends of ours be, Rose?”</p> - -<p>“Awouh! Faix, as dacent a boy as ever broke bread the -same boy is, ‘and,’ says he, ‘if I had goold in bushelfuls, I’d think -it too little for that girl;’ but, poor lad, he’s not aisy or happy -in his mind in regard o’ that. ‘I’m afeard,’ says he, ‘that -she’d put scorn upon me, an’ not think me her aiquals. An’ no -more I am,’ says he again, ‘for where, afther all, would you -get the likes of Biddy Sullivan?’—Poor boy! throth my heart -aches for him!”</p> - -<p>“Well, can’t you fall in love wid him yourself, Rose, whoever -he is?”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, an’ if I was at your age, it would be no shame to -me to do so; but, to tell you the thruth, the sorra often ever -the likes of Paul Heffernan came acrass me.”</p> - -<p>“Paul Heffernan! Why, Rose,” replied Biddy, smiling -with the assumed lightness of indifference, “is that your -beauty? If it is, why, keep him, an’ make much of him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, wurrah! the differ there is between the hearts an’ -tongues of some people—one from another—an’ the way they -spaik behind others’ backs! Well, well, I’m sure that wasn’t -the way he spoke of you, Biddy; an’ God forgive you for runnin’ -down the poor boy as you’re doin’. Trogs! I believe -you’re the only girl would do it.”</p> - -<p>“Who, me! I’m not runnin’ him down. I’m neither runnin’ -him up nor down. I have neither good nor bad to say about -him—the boy’s a black sthranger to me, barrin’ to know his -face.”</p> - -<p>“Faix, an’ he’s in consate wid you these three months past, -an’ intinds to be at the dance on Friday next, in Jack -Gormly’s new house. Now, good bye, alanna; keep your -own counsel till the time comes, an’ mind what I said to you. -It’s not behind every ditch the likes of Paul Heffernan grows. -<i lang="ga">Bannaght lhath!</i> My blessin’ be wid you!”</p> - -<p>Thus would Rose depart just at the critical moment, for -well she knew that by husbanding her information and leaving -the heart something to find out, she took the most effectual -steps to excite and sustain that kind of interest which is apt -ultimately to ripen, even from its own agitation, into the -attachment she is anxious to promote.</p> - -<p>The next day, by a meeting similarly accidental, she comes -in contact with Paul Heffernan, who, honest lad, had never -probably bestowed a thought upon Biddy Sullivan in his life.</p> - -<p>“<i lang="ga">Morrow ghud</i>, Paul!—how is your father’s son, ahager?”</p> - -<p>“<i lang="ga">Morrow ghuteha</i>, Rose!—my father’s son wants nothin’ -but a good wife, Rosha.”</p> - -<p>“An’ it’s not every set day or bonfire night that a good -wife is to be had, Paul—that is, a <em>good</em> one, as you say; for, -throth, there’s many o’ them in the market sich as they are. I -was talkin’ about you to a friend of mine the other day—an’, -trogs, I’m afeard you’re not worth all the abuse we gave you.”</p> - -<p>“More power to you, Rose! I’m oblaged to you. But who -is the friend in the manetime?”</p> - -<p>“Poor girl! Throth, when your name slipped out an her, the -point of a rush would take a drop of blood out o’ her cheek, -the way she crimsoned up. ‘An’, Rose,’ says she, ‘if ever I -know you to breathe it to man or mortual, my lips I’ll never -open to you to my dyin’ day.’ Trogs, whin I looked at her, -an’ the tears standin’ in her purty black eyes, I thought I -didn’t see a betther favoured girl, for both face and figure, -this many a day, than the same Biddy Sullivan.”</p> - -<p>“Biddy Sullivan! Is that long Jack’s daughter of Cargah?”</p> - -<p>“The same. But, Paul, avick, if a syllable o’ what I tould -you——”</p> - -<p>“Hut, Rose! honour bright! Do you think me a <em>stag</em>, -that I’d go and inform on you?”</p> - -<p>“Fwhishsper, Paul; she’ll be at the dance on Friday next -in Jack Gormly’s new house. So <i lang="ga">bannaght lhath</i>, an’ think -o’ what I betrayed to you.”</p> - -<p>Thus did Rose very quietly and sagaciously bind two young -hearts together, who probably might otherwise have never for -a moment even thought of each other. Of course, when Paul -and Biddy met at the dance on the following Friday, the one -was the object of the closest attention to the other; and each -being prepared to witness strong proofs of attachment from -the opposite party, every thing fell out exactly according to -their expectations.</p> - -<p>Sometimes it happens that a booby of a fellow during his -calf love will employ a male friend to plead his suit with a -pretty girl, who, if the principal party had spunk, might be -very willing to marry him. To the credit of our fair countrywomen, -however, be it said, that in scarcely one instance out -of twenty does it happen, or has it ever happened, that any of -them ever fails to punish the faint heart by bestowing the fair -lady upon what is called the blackfoot or spokesman whom he -selects to make love for him. In such a case it is very naturally -supposed that the latter will speak two words for himself -and one for his friend, and indeed the result bears out the -supposition. Now, nothing on earth gratifies the heart of -the established Matchmaker so much as to hear of such a disaster -befalling a spoony. She exults over his misfortune for -months, and publishes his shame to the uttermost bounds of -her own little world, branding him as “a poor pitiful crature, -who had not the courage to spaik up for himself or to employ -them that could.” In fact, she entertains much the same feeling -against him that a regular physician would towards some -weak-minded patient, who prefers the knavish ignorance of a -quack to the skill and services of an able and educated medical -practitioner.</p> - -<p>Characters like Rose are fast disappearing in Ireland; and -indeed in a country where the means of life were generally inadequate -to the wants of the population, they were calculated, -however warmly the heart may look back upon the memory -of their services, to do more harm than good, by inducing -young folks to enter into early and improvident marriages. -They certainly sprang up from a state of society not thoroughly -formed by proper education and knowledge—where -the language of a people, too, was in many extensive districts -in such a state of transition as in the interchange of affection -to render an interpreter absolutely necessary. We have ourselves -witnessed marriages where the husband and wife spoke -the one English and the other Irish, each being able with difficulty -to understand the other. In all such cases Rose was -invaluable. She spoke Irish and English fluently, and indeed -was acquainted with every thing in the slightest or most remote -degree necessary to the conduct of a love affair, from the -first glance up until the priest had pronounced the last words—or, -to speak more correctly, until “the throwing of the -stocking.”</p> - -<p>Rose was invariably placed upon the <em>hob</em>, which is the seat -of comfort and honour at a farmer’s fireside, and there she -sat neat and tidy, detailing all the news of the parish, telling -them how such a marriage was one unbroken honeymoon—a -sure proof by the way that she herself had a hand in it—and -again, how another one did not turn out well, and she said so; -“there was always a bad dhrop in the Haggarties; but, my -dear, the girl herself was <em>for</em> him; so as she made her own bed -she must lie in it, poor thing. Any way, thanks be to goodness -I had nothing to do wid it!”</p> - -<p>Rose was to be found in every fair and market, and always -at a particular place at a certain hour of the day, where the -parties engaged in a courtship were sure to meet her on these -occasions. She took a chirping glass, but never so as to become -unsteady. Great deference was paid to every thing she -said; and if this was not conceded to her, she extorted it with -a high hand. Nobody living could drink a health with half -the comic significance that Rose threw into her eye when saying, -“Well, young couple, here’s everything as you wish it!”</p> - -<p>Rose’s motions from place to place were usually very slow, -and for the best reason in the world, because she was frequently -interrupted. For instance, if she met a young man -on her way, ten to one but he stood and held a long and earnest -conversation with her; and that it was both important -and confidential, might easily be gathered from the fact that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -whenever a stranger passed, it was either suspended altogether, -or carried on in so low a tone as to be inaudible. This -held equally good with the girls. Many a time have I seen -them retracing their steps, and probably walking back a mile -or two, all the time engaged in discussing some topic evidently -of more than ordinary interest to themselves. And when they -shook hands and bade each other good bye, heavens! at what -a pace did the latter scamper homewards across fields and -ditches, in order to make up for the time she had lost!</p> - -<p>Nobody ever saw Rose receive a penny of money, and yet -when she took a fancy, it was beyond any doubt that she has -often been known to assist young folks in their early struggles; -but in no instance was the slightest aid ever afforded to -any one whose union she had not herself been instrumental in -bringing about. As to the <em>when</em> and the <em>how</em> she got this -money, and the great quantity of female apparel which she was -known to possess, we think we see our readers smile at the -simplicity of those who may not be able to guess the several -sources from whence she obtained it.</p> - -<p>One other fact we must mention before we close this sketch -of her character. There were <em>some</em> houses—we will not, for -we dare not, say <em>how many</em>—into which Rose was never seen -to enter. This, however, was not her fault. Every one knew -that what she did, she did always for the best; and if some -small bits of execration were occasionally levelled at her, it -was not more than the parties levelled at each other. All -marriages cannot be happy; and indeed it was a creditable -proof of Rose Moan’s sagacity that so few of those effected -through her instrumentality were unfortunate.</p> - -<p>Poor Rose! matchmaking was the great business of your -simple but not absolutely harmless life. You are long since, -we trust, gone to that happy place where there are neither -marryings nor givings in marriage, but where you will have a -long Sabbath from your old habits and tendencies. We love -for more reasons than either one or two to think of your faded -crimson cloak, peaked shoes, hazel staff, clear grey eye, and -nose and chin that were so full of character. As you used to -say yourself, <i lang="ga">bannaght lhath!</i>—my blessing be with you!</p> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> A feverish cold.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<h2 class="gap4">RANDOM SKETCHES.—No. I.</h2> - -<h3>FELINE RECOLLECTIONS.</h3> - -<p>One result of perusing such interesting papers on “the Intellectuality -of Domestic Animals” as that which lately appeared -in the <cite>Dublin University Magazine</cite>, should be the publication -of similar facts; another, the promotion of that kindness -towards the inferior creation which is still, alas! so sparingly -manifested. I therefore propose stuffing a cranny of -the <cite>Irish Penny Journal</cite> with a few particulars relating, -firstly, to the maternal and filial piety of the cat; secondly, -to the humanity (or, psychologically speaking, brutality) of -the same animal. Of the facts illustrative of the former virtues -I was an eye-witness—those illustrative of the latter I -had from a member of the family in which they occurred.</p> - -<p>In my early home two cats, a mother and a son, formed -part of the establishment. The former, a dark-grey matron, -rejoiced in the euphonious name of <span class="smcap">Smut</span>—the colour of the -latter may be inferred from his appellation, <span class="smcap">Fox</span>. Smut was, -to be brief, the most lady-like cat I ever saw; Fox was a -huge Dan Donnelly of a brute, a very hero of the slates, and -the terror of all the cats in the neighbourhood, <em>save one</em>; he -walloped them right and left; and many a smirking sylph of -the gutters, wont to pick her steps daintily to avoid all possible -contact with the wet, was seen to scamper away screaming -when Fox appeared in view, for truth obliges me to record -that he spared neither age nor sex. Nor was he formidable -to the brute creation alone—humanity often suffered -under his visitations. There was no keener forager among -the larders and pantries of the neighbourhood. A poor dancing-master -who had a way of leaving his window open was -most frequently victimized; for as the said window was <em>convenient</em> -to the low roof of a back house, our hero used to -quietly walk in and purvey to his liking. In the recess of a -chimney, and several feet above the roof of our house, was a -kind of small platform, where Master Fox was usually pleased -to regale himself on his ill-gotten gains. One day I saw him -with a calf’s or lamb’s pluck in his mouth, twice as long as -himself, darting aloft towards his refectory. The weight of -the booty several times dragged him back; but he persevered -till he gained his point: it was a sight ludicrous beyond all -imagining.</p> - -<p>But as it was not every day Master Fox could mulct the -circumambient dancing-master in a beef-steak or a calf’s pluck, -he often returned home hungry; and I am now come to the -point of proving the “intellectuality” of Madam Smut, as -evidenced in her maternal piety. Within the kitchen-door lay -a mat, in a hole in which she daily hid a portion of her lights. -She was generally dozing before the fire when her son came -in for the night, and whenever I happened to follow him and -watch her movements, she invariably looked up to see whether -he had scented the provender: and when satisfied on that -point, coiled herself up to sleep again. But her maternal -tenderness never interfered with her matronly dignity. Woe -betide Fox, if, in proceeding to take his place at the fire, he -attempted to pass between her and it. She would instantly -spring up and deal him a dab, which prevented for that time -a repetition of the indecorum. I have seen him steal most -cautiously along the forbidden path in the presumption that -she was asleep, but I do not remember to have ever seen him -effect a passage. I have said that he leathered all the cats -about him save one—that one was his mother. Determined -pugilist and fire-eater as he was, he never returned the dab -she gave him.</p> - -<p>The fact of which I was only an ear-witness may be briefly -related. A lady of this city observing one day a wretched -kitten which had been ruthlessly flung into the street before -her residence, had it taken into the house and carefully tended. -Some time after, when it had grown into a thorough-bred -mouser, a strange cat with a broken leg hobbled into the yard, -where it was discovered by the foundling, which immediately -took charge of it, and regularly allotted to the sufferer a portion -of its own daily food till it was sufficiently recovered to -shift for itself.</p> - -<p>As a warm friend of the inferior creation, I was much -pleased to find their cause pleaded towards the close of the -article, which gave rise to the present sketch, and a just encomium -passed on the author of “the Rights of Animals.” -And much was I gratified to find that the same cause appears -to maintain an abiding interest in the bosom of the first of -living poets. “C. O.” alludes as follows to a conversation he -had with Mr Wordsworth on the subject:—“I remember an -observation made to me by one of the most gifted of the human -race—one of the stars of this generation—the poet of nature -and of feeling—the good and the great Mr Wordsworth. -Having the honour of a conversation with him after he had -made a tour through Ireland, I in the course of it asked what was -the thing that most struck his observation here as making us -differ from the English; and he without hesitation said it was -the ill-treatment of our horses: that his soul was often, too -often, sick within him at the way in which he saw these creatures -of God abused.” One evening, which I had the happiness -of spending at Rydal Mount, the very same subject was -broached by Mr W. Defend my countrymen I could not, -but I parried the attack by showing that other segments of -the united kingdom had little right to boast over them in this -particular. This I proved by adverting to the notorious cat-skinning -of London—a horror unknown in Ireland, bad as we -are—and to certain atrocious cruelties which had just been -perpetrated on some horses in Sutherland (though I must confess -that I know too little of Scotland to pronounce whether -its national character is tarnished by cruelty to animals or -not). And much was I surprised when the son of the poet -threw discredit on the character of one of the first of London -newspapers, from which I had cited a recent case in proof of -my assertion. It was in 1833 I visited Rydal Mount. Should -this paper reach the eye of Mr W. jun., he may find my statement -corroborated, and the perpetration of the barbarous -trade demonstrated, by referring to the case of Elizabeth Rogerson, -an old offender, who in 1839 was condemned to the -ridiculously lenient penalty of two months’ imprisonment for -the crime, without hard labour. A diametrically opposite -opinion respecting the treatment of horses in Ireland was -once expressed to me by another English gentleman of some -celebrity in the religious world. He passed an encomium on -the kindness to animals observable in this country, from the -habit he had noticed among the drivers of jaunting-cars, during -his short stay in Dublin, of feeding their horses from their -hands with a wisp of hay at leisure moments—a pitch of humanity -just equivalent to that of greasing the wheels of their -vehicles.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>Printed and published every Saturday by GUNN and CAMERON, No. 6, -Church Lane, College Green, Dublin; and sold by all Booksellers.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1, No. -15, October 10, 1840, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IRISH PENNY JOURNAL, OCT 10, 1840 *** - -***** This file should be named 54252-h.htm or 54252-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/2/5/54252/ - -Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by JSTOR www.jstor.org) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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