children, running, wrestling, throwing long bullets, and dancing. The latter was fully as violent an exercise as any of the others, and consisted in a constant and violent agitation of the limbs and body. I stopped upwards of half an hour looking on, and was at length reluctantly drawn away. I was detained only by the animation of the scene, and its expression of happiness, for the music was no better than the dancing. But what harmony equals, or alas! is so rare, as that of happy human faces? "The instrument was the bag-pipes. It has always been a favourite of the vulgar. Pan, the meanest and the most vulgar of the ancient deities, is often represented playing on it, and Nero, whose taste was as vulgar, as his dispositions were corrupt, (vulgar taste and corrupt dispositions, indeed, generally go together) was no mean performer on it. It was the music of the Irish kerns, in the time of Edward the third, and is still the Irish festive music. They probably got it from the Scotch, but they improved upon it. "We arrived between three or four o'clock at the house where we were to dine. The instant I saw the owner, I knew he had been a long time in France. He was dressed in a faded purple coat, white small clothes, and waistcoat, and his head was powdered still whiter than they. His accents, gestures, and manners were equally foreign, and altogether gave him the exact appearance of an ancient Frenchman. He was a Catholic, and it was believed had been educated for a priest. His family consisted of his wife and three fine lively girls, his daughters. "A plentiful collation was served for us, for dinner was to be at a no less fashionable hour than six. Fashionable hours may do well in cities, but they are sadly misplaced in woods and wilds. I did not however regret them on this particular occasion. The young ladies, when they learned who I was insisted upon introducing me to some of their neighbours, and it was hardly possible to have a more delightful walk, or more delightful companions; they laughed, chatted, sung, and jumped over hedge and ditch with the activity of wood nymphs. We went into several poor people's houses, and to every one they met they had something kind to say, or something gracious to do. A mutual sympathy unites the Catholic gentry and commonalty into an intercourse, as familiar and affectionate, as that of the Protestant gentry and commonalty is distant and indifferent. "Our conversation was mostly in French, though unlike the father, the daughters spoke with an English accent. "You prefer French to English," said I, "to the elder." "Sans doute," she replied. 66 May I ask why,” I enquired. "Parceque," said she, "c'est le langage de l'amour." "She had no idea of the obvious interpretation of these words. She simply meant it was the language of kindness and affection. And she had reason to say it was so; while others admire the light graces of this beautiful language, to me its great charm is its overflowing tenderness. Innumerable instances might be given. I take two at random. How cold seem in our mouths the expressions of father, daughter, mother, brother, compared to the sweetly affectionate ones of mon pere, ma fille, mon frere, ma mere, and unfeeling would be the heart which did not vibrate in unison with the soft and dulcet sounds in the lips of a French woman, of Je vous aime. "The young people retired to the drawing room to dance. I was amongst the lookers on, probably the only grave looking one of them all. Like Jessica I am never merry, when I hear sweet music, and sweet was the simple melody, which was then playing. In the liveliest Irish air, as has been well remarked, there is a lurking shade of melancholy, a faithful picture of the Irish character, of which though the border is lightsome, the ground is gloom. 6 "One of the fair companions of my morning's walk, came running after me and taking me familiarly by the arm, exclaimed, Que vous avez l'air triste et morne. Venez,' continued she, endeavouring to draw me to the dance, venez et jouissez.' "A priest, who had been detained from dinner, came in at a late hour in the evening. The company flocked round him. with more of joy than of reverence, and more of affection than of either. I approached him likewise, for being a Catholic, I love an Irish Catholic priest. I regard him as the moss grown column of a fallen edifice, which was the admiration of past ages, sublime in solitude, and venerable in decay. I love him for what he is, as well as for what he was. Never should it be forgotten, that it was one of this calumniated order of men, who, when all his own subjects had deserted him, attended the French king to his execution, and while he was besprinkled with his blood, exclaimed in the holy enthusiasm of religion." "The present one was a tall and elderly man, pale, thoughtful and bent forward, in faded splendour wan.' He was the melancholy representative of the body to which he belonged. He conversed with me familiarly and frankly, though he was often obliged to stop to bestow his blessing. "Benedicte Domini, said or rather sung the sweet young women, as they came running down from the dance with their hands joined, and a pretty reverence composed of a bow and a courtesy. "Salus, honor, virtus, quoque replied the priest in the same tone, as he laid his hands on the heads of his innocent suppliants, who gay, and happy, flew back to their dancing. How delightful was this mixture of gaiety and religion, of devotion and cheerfulness how suited to the female character, whose weakness is its strength; whose fragility is its grace, whose volatility is its happiness, and whose attribute is its tenderness of heart." "How delightful too is the Catholic religion, solemn in music, fragrant in incense, splendid in decorations, graceful in ornament, the beads, the scapular and cross; it may be said like the pagan religion of old to deify life, and to reflect only in its fair bosom, the beneficent author of creation, while the 14. 2 T gloomy spirit of Calvanism, like a stern enchantress waves her wand over the bright landscape of the imagination, and gives in its stead, the dark cavern of a ferocious tyrant." "I was always an early riser, and before breakfast on the following morning, I had walked eight miles. I entered into conversation with a group, who were travelling my road. On being informed that I was lately from Dublin, they were desirous to have my opinion of the Catholic bill, as they called it, that was expected to be brought forward next session of Parliament. "With the view of allaying the fermentation, which I knew was existing in the minds of the people, I said, Never mind acts of Parliament, my lads, but live peaceably with your neighbours, I warrant you, your fields will look as green, and your hedges smell as sweet this time next year, whether the bill pass or not. "May be so, said one of them, and may be, we would not be long here to smell or look at them. "The object of my journey was recreation for myself and conciliation to the people, and I therefore combatted their opinions, though perhaps not accompanied with conviction. Ah! reverend sir, said a middle aged man, you speak like a good man, and a great scholar, but Lord bless ye, books won't make us know life. "Tell me," said I, "why you take me for a clergyman, is it because I wear a black coat?" "No" returned he, "but because you have a moderate face." "The lower class of people of Ireland are great physiognomists, good ones I am bound to suppose, for my face has often received the above moderate compliment. It speaks favourably, however, of the manner of the Irish Protestant clergy, that a man of mild demeanour, is almost always taken for one of them. "The following day we proceeded to Bambridge, and the weather being fine, and the sun shining brightly, we walked merrily forward. At every furlong's length, we met with a cross road, luckily however, the people were as plenty as the roads, but not a cross answer was given by any of them. We were overtaken by a young Scotchman on horseback. He had travelled a hundred miles in Scotland, and upwards of a hundred in Ireland, to purchase cattle, and was now returning homewards. He civilly invited me to mount his horse, and without giving me time to reply, alighted to help me on. "It is fitter I should be walking," said he, " than you." "I do not know," said I, "that a good face is always a letter of recommendation, I have ever found that a good coat is." I asked him, what he thought of Ireland. "It is a heaven of a place," he replied, "but they're the devil of a people." "I examined him as to this latter opinion, and found he had every where met with kindness and attention. He had heard it from his father, who probably had heard it from his; and in this manner are the characters of nations and individuals judged." "We soon afterwards parted with our Scotch acquaintance, and proceeded to Daisy Bank. The virtuous owner of the house had died about a week before. He was the Presbyterian minister of the parish, and died universally lamented, as he had lived respected and beloved. The family were in the utmost affliction. I consented without reluctance to spend the day with them, for truly it is said, "It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to the house of feasting," for that is the end of all men, and the living will lay it to his heart. "I amused myself the greater part of the evening with looking over the books in the library. They were mostly treatises on divinity, and reviews. A Presbyterian clergyman has not the means of procuring many books to make himself,in any degree acquainted with what is passing in literature, he therefore must have recourse to reviews. How imperfectly they acquaint him, it is almost needless to say. How necessarily imperfect, perhaps ; for such is the particular irritability of an |