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both of which still exist. Previously to the erection of this assembled his forces, to attack the republicans, who had got bridge, the town was called New Leighlin, in contradistinction possession of Dublin ; and he rested his forces here in 1649. to the original Leighlin, a town of more ancient and ecclesi- It was, however, surrendered to the parliamentary forces unastical origin, which was situated about two miles to the west, der Colonel Hewson in the following year, soon after which the and which was afterwards known by the appellation of Old main army under Ireton sojourned here for a time, and plunLeighlin. The erection of this bridge, by giving a new direc-dered the surrounding country. Since this period, Leighlintion to the great southern road, led rapidly to the increase of Bridge has enjoyed the blessings of peace, and has made those the new town and the decay of the old one, whose site is only advances in prosperity which follow in its train. Its market marked at present by the remains of its venerable cathedral is on Monday and Saturday amply supplied with corn and butchurch.
ter, &c, and it has four well-attended fairs, on Easter Monday, In addition to the Black Castle and the bridge already no- May 14th, September 25th, and December 27th. Much beauticed, Leighlin-Bridge had formerly a second castle, as well as tiful scenery and many interesting remains of antiquity exist a monastery, of which there are at present no remains. The in its immediate vicinity.
P. former, which was called the White Castle, was erected in 1408 by Gerald, the fifth Earl of Kildare : its site, we believe, is now unknown. The monastery was erected for Car
IRISH MUSIC. melite or White Friars, under the invocation of the Virgin The following song on the harp of our country has been Mary, by one of the Carews, in the reign of Henry III., and sent to us by our friend Samuel Lover, the painter, poet, was situated at the south side of the Black Castle. After the musician, dramatist, stoy-writer, and novelist of Ireland, for suppression of religious houses, this monastery, being in the it is his pride to be in every thing Irish; and for this, no less hands of government, was in 1547 surrounded with a wall, than for his manly independence of character and sterling quaand converted into a fort, by Sir Edward Bellingham, Lord lities of heart, we honour him. It cannot be said of him as Deputy of Ireland, who also established within it a stable of of some of our countrymen at the other side of the water, that twenty or thirty horses, of a superior breed to that commonly he is ashamed of us; and we are not, and we feel assured never used in Ireland, for the use of his own household, and for the shall be, ashamed of him. public service. The dispersed friars did not, however, remove We may remark the these verses owe their origin to an far from their original mansion when dispossessed of their examination of Bunting's delightful “ Ancient Music of Iretenements ; they withdrew to a house on the same side of the land"-a work of which we have already expressed our opinion river, about two hundred yards from the castle ; and an estab- in our first number—and are adapted to be sung to the first lishment of the order was preserved till about the year 1827, melody in that collection, “ Sit down under my protection.” when it became extinct, on the death of the last friar of the We may also add, that it is the intention of the poet, when he community.
prints the music and words together, to dedicate them to Mr As the English settlement here became very insecure to-Bunting, as a memorial of his gratitude for the services reuwards the close of the fourteenth century, and was peculiarly dered to Ireland in the preservation of her national music-exposed to the hostile attacks of the native Irish, who con services which, as the author says, "will make his name be tinued powerful in its immediate vicinity, a grant of ten marks remembered amongst our bards." annually was made by King Edward II. in 1371, to the Prior
SONG. of this monastery, for the repairing and rebuilding of the house, which grant was renewed six years afterwards ; and in 1378,
BY SAMUEL LOVER. Richard II., in consideration of the great labour, burden, and Oh, give me one strain expense which the Priors had in supporting their house, and the Of that wild harp again, bridge contiguous to it, against the king's enemies, granted to
In melody proudly its own, the Priors an annual pension of twenty marks out of the rents
Sweet harp of the days that are gone ! of the town of Newcastle of Lyons, which grant he confirmed
Time's wide-wasting wing to them in 1394, and which was ratified by his successors Henry
Its cold shadow may fling IV. and V. in the first years of their reigns (1399, 1412), the
Where the light of the soul hath no part; latter monarch ordering at the same time that all arrears of The sceptre and sword rent then due should be paid.
Both decay with their lord, In the civil wars of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
But the throne of the Bard is the heart ! the possession of Leighlin-Bridge and its castle became an object of much importance to the combatants on both sides. In
And hearts, while they beat 1577, when the celebrated chieftain of Leix, Rory Oge O'More,
To thy music so sweet, rose in rebellion, among other depredations he burned a part
Thy glory shall ever prolong, of the town of Leighlin-Bridge, and endeavoured to get pos
Land of honour, and beauty, and song ! session of its castle, which was then feebly garrisoned under
The beauty whose sway the command of Sir George Carew, constable of the fort and
Waked the bard's votive lay, town. With the slender force of seven horse, as it is stated
Hath gone to eternity's shade; by Hooker, but under the cover of night, Carew made a sally
While, fresh in its fame, on his assailants, numbering two hundred and forty, who, be
Lives the song to her name, ing taken by surprise, lost many men, and the remainder for a
Which the Minstrel immortal hath made! time fled. Having soon however discovered the extremely small Proud harp, of wild string, force by which they had been attacked, they rallied, and in
Where thy sweetness did ring turn became the assailants, pursuing Carew's party to the
O'er the silence of other lands, gate of Leighlin-Bridge Castle, and some of them even enter
By the magic of minstrel hands, ing within its walls ; but by the bravery of the garrison they
Too oft did its wail were soon expelled. Carew had two men and one horse killed,
Load with sorrow the gale and every man of his party was wounded. The rebels lost
O’er the land that was made to be free; sixteen men, among whom was one of their leaders, which so
But, Isle of the West, discomfited them that they retired, leaving one-half of the
Raise thy emerald crest, town uninjured. In the great rebellion of O'Neil, at the close of the reign of
Songs of triumph shall yet ring for thee, Elizabeth, the castle of Leighlin-Bridge was repaired and garrisoned for the Queen, though the surrounding country was
POVERTY.--Poverty has in large cities very different aplaid waste by the Kavanaghs. In the beginning of the suc
pearances. It is often concealed in splendour, and often in of the monastery, &c. &c, were granted by the king to George selves by temporary expedients, and every day is lost in conceeding reign (1604), the site of the castle, together with that extravagance. It is the care of a very great part of mankind
to conceal their indigence from the rest. They support themTutchett, Lord Awdeley, to be held of the crown for ever in common soccage.
triving for to-morrow. In the great rebellion of 1641, the castle of Leighlin-Bridge
intend to marry, look first at the heart, next at was garrisoned for the confederate Catholics, in 1646, with the mind, then at the person. one hundred men, under the command of Colonel Walter Bag- Pride is a vice, which pride itself inclines every man to find nall; it was here also that in 1647 the Marquis of Ormond I in others and to overlook in himself.---Johnson,
But, lo! here comes a funeral. See how grave and melan
choly these sable-clad gentlemen look. Why, you would ima. Is the reader's attention is now called to it for the first time, gine that under that dismal pall lay all the earthly hopes of he will be rather surprised, we dare say, to find how much every individual present, that every heart in the solemn train bumbug is incorporated with our social system. It will rather was well-nigh broken. All this is very becoming no doubt, surprise him to find, as a little reflection will certainly enable and it would scarcely be decorous to go either singing or him to do, that bumbug forms, in fact, the cement by which so- laughing along the streets on such an occasion, when carrying ciety is held together; that it pervades every department of it, the poor remains of mortality to its last resting-place. But fills up all its crevices and crannies, and, in truth, permeates it's humbug, nevertheless-humbug all! Not one of these its very substance. We, in short, all humbug one another ; sorrowing mourners, excepting perhaps one or two of the that's beyond all manner of doubt.
nearest relations, cares one twopenny piece for the defunct. Don't we every day write cards and letters beginning with Not one of them would have given him sixpence to keep him “My dear, or My very dear sir," and ending with, “ Yours sin- from starving. cerely, truly, &c. &c.,” knowing, in our conscience, that in
Notwithstanding, however, the very general diffusion of ninety-nine instances out of the hundred-always excepting humbug, it may be classed under regular heads, and we rather cases where a man's interest is concerned--we do not care one think this would not be a bad way of illustrating it. We shall straw for these very dear sirs—not one farthing although they try; beginning with were six feet below the ground to-morrow.
THE MILITARY OR HEROIC HUMBUG. Suppose an intimation card of the death of one of these very dear sirs, or of some "good friend” or intimate acquaintance, tering the enemy. See, there he stands in hostile array
My brave fellow soldiers, we are now on the eve of encounwaits us on our arrival home to dinner “Guess who's dead ?" says some member of our family, run.
against you. He thinks to terrify you by his formidable apning towards us with joyful anticipation of our perplexity.
pearance. But you regard him with a steady and a fearless “Can't say, indeed," reply we. “ Who is it?"
eye. “Mr O'Madigan.”
Soldiers ! the world rings with the fame of your deeds. “ Ah, dear me, poor fellow, is he dead? Very sudden, very
Your glory is imperishable: it will live for ever. unexpected. Is dinner ready?”.
Regardless of wounds and death, you have ever been foreWhat is the civility of the landlord and his waiters but ancient fame, and let your deeds this day show that you are
most where honour was to be won. Recollect, then, your humbug? What the smirking, smiling, ducking and bowing still the same brave
men who have so often chased your eneof the shopkeeper, but humbug? What his sweet and gentle mies from the field ; the same brave men who have ever looked
yes, sirs," and "no, sirs,” and “proud to serve you, sirs,” but humbug? You are not goose enough to believe for a mo
on death as a thing unworthy a moment's consideration-on ment that he is serious, that he has either the least regard or re
dishonour as the greatest of all evils. spect for you. Not he ; he would not care a twopence although glory, honour, and immortality! (Hurra, hurra, General
Band of heroes, advance ! On, on to victory, death, wounds, you were hanged, drawn, and quartered before his shop-door Fudge for ever!-lead us on, general, lead us on!). Lead ye to-morrow, except, perhaps, for the inconvenience of the thing.
What is the civility of the servant to his employer but hum: on, my brave fellows! Would to heaven my duties would bug? Do you imagine for a moment that that man who, hat permit me that enviable honour! But it would be too much in hand, is looking up to you with such a respectful air for one so unworthy. Alas! I dare not. My duties call me looking up to you as if you were a god—as if his very exist. But my confidence in your courage, my brave fellows, enables
to another part of the field. I obey the call with reluctance. ence depended on your slightest breath-do you imagine for a moment, we ask, that he has in his heart that deference for me to trust you to advance yourselves. On, then, on, my you that he would make you believe ? that he conceives you to gracefully, bows politely to his " band of heroes,” and rides
band of heroes, and fear nothing! (General raises his hat be so very superior a boing as his manner would imply? Not off to a height at a safe distance, from which he views the he, indeed. Depend upon it, it is all humbug; humbug all
. battle comfortably through his telescope.) And if you saw or heard him when he feels secure that you can do neither the one nor the other, you would speedily be
THE LITERARY HUMBUG-THE AUTHOR'S. convinced that it is.
In putting this work into the hands of the public, the author But it is in the wheel-within-wheel of social life, the do- has not been influenced by any of those motives that usually mestic circle, in what are called the friendly relations of life, urge writers to publication. Neither vanity, nor the desire that the system of humbug assumes, perhaps, its most decep- of gaining what is called a name, has had the slightest share tive character. See what a loving and friendly set of people in inducing him to take this step; still less has he been influare gathered together around that dinner table! See how enced by any sordid love of gain; he looks for neither praise blandly, bow affectionately they look on each other! How nor profit. His sole motive for writing and publishing this delighted they are with one another-with mine host and book has been to promote the general good, by contributing hostess in particular! Why, they would die for them—die on his mite to the stock of general information. the spot. They would go any length to serve one another.
The author is but too well aware that the merits of his See that shake of the hand, how cordial it is ! that smile, how work, if indeed it have any at all, are of a very humble order; affeetionate! how winning ! how full of kindly promise! that it has, in short, many defects: but a liberal, discerning, Now, do these people in reality feel the smallest interest in and indulgent public, will make every allowance for one who each other's welfare? Would they make the slightest sacri- makes no pretension to literary excellence. fice to serve one another ? Not they, indeed. If you doubt The author may add, that part of the blame of his now obit, try any one of them next day; try any of your
“dear truding himself on the public rests on the urgent entreaties friends” if they will lend you a pound or five, as the case may of some perhaps too partial friends. be. Until you do this, or something like it, depend upon it
THE PUBLISHERS' HUMBUG. you don't know your men; no, nor your women either.
The publishers of this new undertaking have long been of “Oh! but,” says the moralist, “mere civility, my good sir, opinion that a new and more efficient course of moral instrucmere civility; absurd idea to suppose that every man to whom tion was wanted, to raise the bulk of mankind to that stanyou are civil should have a claim also on your purse." dard of perfection which every Christian, every good member
“But in the case of a dear friend, Mr Moralist, or inti- of society, must be desirous of seeing attained. mate acquaintance-ch?—for it is of them only that I speak. It is with the most poignant regret they have marked the Surely they might do something for you."
almost total failure of all preceding attempts of this kind. “Oh! that as it may be. But as a general rule". How much it has pained them--how much they have grieved
“ Then all this cordiality of greeting, this affectionate to see the inadequacy of the supplies of knowledge to the inshaking of hands, these sweet smiles and sweeter words, are creasing wants of the community, especially alluding to the all to go for nothing? They are to be understood as meaning working and lower classes generally, whose interests they have nothing.
deeply at heart, they need not say: but they may say, that “ Certainly.”
they anticipate the most triumphant success in their present * Then we are perfectly agreed_it is all deception." efforts to supply the desideratum alluded to. “ Oh ! you may call it what you please."
The publishers may add, that as regards the undertaking “ Thank you. Then with your leave I shall call it humbug. they are now about to commence, profit is with them but a seIt is not a very elegant word, but it is pretty expressive.” condary consideration. Their great object is to promoto the
general good by a wide diffusion of knowledge, and a liberal | humbug: We have now made up our minds that we shall not. infusion of sound and healthy principle. If they effect this, Although we could easily give fifty more, it is unnecessary. their end is gained. The work, on which no expense will be We confess, however, to be under strong temptations to spared, will be sold at a price so low as to leave but a bare give “ the candidate's humbug"—to exhibit that gentleman remuneration for workmanship and material--so low, indeed, doing over the constituency, making them, whether he be whig that a very large demand only can protect the publishers or tory, swallow the grossest fudge that ever was thrust down from positive loss. But it is not the dread of even the result an unsuspecting gullet; but we refrain. We refrain also, in that can deter them from commencing and carrying on a work the meantime, from giving what we would call “ the liberty undertaken from the purest and most disinterested motives. and equality humbug;” together with several other humbugs THE CRITICAL HUMBUG.
equally instructive and editying. A more delightful work than this, a work more rich and And now we think we hear our readers exclaim of ourselves, racy, more brilliant in style or more graphic in delineation, it what a humbug ! has rarely been our good fortune to meet with. Every page
By no means, gentle readers; there are exceptions to every bears the stamp of a master-mind, every sentence the impress general rule. We have sketched the great mass of mankind, of genius.
but we have no doubt that there are some truly sincere perWhat a flow of ideas! What an outpouring of eloquence! sons—few indeed—in all the classes we have sketched ; and What a knowledge of the human heart with all its nicer in- we trust that we ourselves shall be reckoned amongst the
C. tricacies ! What an intimacy with the springs of human number. action! What a mastery over the human passions! Ay, this is indeed the triumph of genius.
ANCIENT IRISH LITERATURE,
The ancient literature of Ireland is as yet but little known soning clear and profound ; yet can nothing be more racy than to the world, or even to ourselves. Existing for the most his pleasantry when he condescends to be playful-nothing part only in its original Celtic form, and in manuscripts accesmore delicately cutting than his irony when he chooses to be sible only to the Irish scholar resident in our metropolis, but satirical—nothing more striking or impressive than his ratio- few even of those capable of understanding it have the opporcination when he prefers being philosophical.
tunity to become acquainted with it, and from all others it is We confidently predict a wide and lasting popularity for necessarily hidden. We therefore propose to ourselves, as a this extraordinary production. Indeed, if we are not greatly pleasing task, to make our literature more familiar, not only mistaken, it will create quite a sensation in the literary circles to the Irish scholar, but to our readers generally who do not of Europe.
possess this species of knowledge, by presenting them from
time to time with such short poems or prose articles, accomMy country, oh! my country! it is for thee, for thee panied with translations, as from their brevity, or the nature alone, I live; and for thee, my country, will I at any time of their subjects, will render them suitable to our limited and cheerfully die-,(Who's that calling out fudge ?) Nearest my necessarily varied pages_our selections being made without heart is the wish for thy welfare. To see thee happy is the regard to chronological order as to the ages of their compoone only desire of my soul, and that thou mayest be so, is my several kinds of literature in which our ancestors of various
sition, but rather with a view to give a general idea of the constant prayer. Night and day dost thou engross my thoughts, and all, all
classes found entertainment. would I sacrifice to thy welfare ! My private interests are as
The specimen which we have chosen to commence with is dust in the balance-(Who's that again calling fudge ?-turn of a homely cast, and was intended as a rebuke to the saucy him out, turn him out)– My private interests are as dust in pride of a woman in humble life, who assumed airs of conse the balance; and shame, shame, oh! eternal shame to the quence from being the possessor of three cows. Its author's sordid wretch, unworthy to live, who should for a moment
name is unknown, but its age may be determined, from its prefer his individual aggrandisement to his country's good. language, as belonging to the early part of the seventeenth cenPerish his name—perish the name of the miserable miscreant ! tury; and that it was formerly very popular in Munster, may Wealth! what is wealth to me, my country, compared to
be concluded from the fact, that the phrase, Easy, oh, woman thy happiness ? Station! what is station, unless thou, too, of the three cows ! [30 reid a bhean na cori mbó] art advanced ? Power 1 what is power, unless the power has become a saying in that province, on any occasion upon of doing thee good? Oh, my country! My country, oh! - which it is desirable to lower the pretensions of proud or (Oh! oh! oh! from various parts of the house.) The patriot
P. sits down, wiping his patriotic forehead with a white handkerchief, amidst thunders of applause.
BeAN NA UTRJ 2BO. Before going farther with our Ilustrations--indeed we don't know whether we shall go any farther with them at all
Go réió a bean na teri mbó or not, as we rather think we have given quite enough of them
år to bólacht ná bí teann -before going farther, then, with any thing in the more direct
Do conairc meisi, gan gó, course of our subject, we may pause a moment to remark how
Dean is ba dá mó a beann. carefully every one who comes before the public to claim its patronage, conceals the real object of his doing so. How re
Ni maireann saiobrios do gnúić mote he keeps from this very delicate point! He never whis
Do neac ná tabair táir go mór pers its name-never breathes it. How cautiously he avoids all allusion to his own particular interest in the matter! From
Chújut an téag ar gać zaob the unction with which he speaks of the excellences of the thing
Go réió a bean na torí mbó. he has to dispose of, be it what it may, a Dutch cheese or a
Slioċt eógain móir sa Wumain treatise on philosophy, the enthusiasm with which he dwells on them, you would imagine that he spoke out of a pure feel
a nimceaċt do ní clú dó16 ing of admiration of these excellences. You would never
A reolta gup léigeadar síos dream-for this he carefully conceals from you—that his sole
go réió a bean na ttri mbó. object is to get hold of as much of your cash as he can; the Dutch cheese 'or the treatise on philosophy being a mere
Clann gaisce eigearna an Chláir instrument to accomplisb the desired transfer.
A nimteaċt sin ba lá leóin It is rather a curious feature this in the social character:
Sgan súil re na tteaċt go brát, every thing offered for sale is so offered through a pure spirit of benevolence, either for the public good or individual benefit ;
go réió a bean na ttri mbó. nothing for the sake of mere filthy lucre, or the particular
Dómnall ó Dún-buíde na long interest of the seller—not at all. He, good soul, has no such
O'Súilleabáin nár cím glór motive_not he, indeed. We said a little while since that we doubted whether we
Féac gur duit ran Spáin re cloiosam would give any farther illustrations of the great science of
go réió a bean na cori mbó.
THE SUMMING UP
O'Ruairc is Maguióir do bi
Now, there you go! You still, of course, keep up your scorn-
ful bearing, go réió a bean na strí mbó.
And I'm too poor to hinder you ; but, by the cloak I'm
wearing, Síol gCeapbuill do bí ceann
If I had but four cows myself, even though you were my Le mbeirċi gać geall ingleó
I'd thwack you well to cure your pride, my Woman of Three
THE COUNTRY DANCING-MASTER,
AN IRISH SKETCH,
BY WILLIAM CARLETON.
In those racy old times, when the manners and usages of Irishan ceangal.
men were more simple and pastoral than they are at present, bioo ar mfallaing a dinnir as ua breac gnúir dancing was cultivated as one of the chief amusements of life, Do bior gan dearmad reasmac buan sa tnúić and the dancing-master looked upon as a person essentially Trío an paėmus do glacais red buaib ar cúis. necessary to the proper enjoyment of our national recreation. Da bfajainnsi reilo a ceacair do buailfinn tú. Of all the amusements peculiar to our population, dancing is
C. by far the most important, although certainly much less so
now than it has been, even within our own memory. In IreTHE WOMAN OF TAREE COWS.
land it may be considered as a very just indication of the
spirit and character of the people; so much so, that it would TRANSLATION OF THE ABOVE. 0, Woman of Three Cows, agragh ! .don't let your tongue heart, and its varied impulses, as the dance, when contemplated
be extremely difficult to find any test so significant of the Irish thus rattle! O, don't be saucy, don't be stiff, because you may have cattle. in its most comprehensive spirit
. In the first place, no people Ibave seen—and, here's my hand to you, I only say what's true dance so well as the
Irish, and for the best reason in the world, A many a one with twice your stock not half so proud as you.
as we shall show. Dancing, every one must admit, although
a most delightful amusement, is not a simple, nor distinct, nor Good luck to you, don't scorn the poor, and don't be their primary one. On the contrary, it is merely little else than a despiser,
happy and agreeable method of enjoying music; and its whole For worldly wealth soon melts away, and cheats the very miser, spirit and character must necessarily depend upon the power And Death soon strips the proudest wreath from haughty of the heart to feel the melody to which the limbs and body human brows;
move. Every nation, therefore, remarkable for a susceptiThen don't be stiff, and don't be proud, good Woman of Three bility of music, is also remarkable for a love of dancing, unless Cows!
religion or some other adequate obstacle, arising from an See where Momonia's heroes lie, proud Owen More's descen- Music and dancing being in fact as dependent the one on the
anomalous condition of society, interposes to prevent it. dants, 'Tis they that won the glorious name, and had the grand that the Irish, who are so sensitively alive to the one,
other as cause and effect, it requires little argument to prove
should attendants ! If they were forced to bow to Fate, as every mortal bows,
in a very high degree excel at the other; and accordingly it
is so. Can you be proud, can you be stiff, my Woman of Three Cows !
Nobody, unless one who has seen and also felt it, can conThe brave sons of the Lord of Clare, they left the land to ceive the incredible, nay, the inexplicable exhilaration of the mourning;
heart, which a dance communicates to the peasantry of IreMovrone ! for they were banished, with no hope of their land. Indeed, it resembles not so much enthusiasm as inspirareturning
tion. Let a stranger take his place among those who are Who knows in what abodes of want those youths were driven assembled at a dance in the country, and mark the change to house?
which takes place in Paddy's whole temperament, physical Yet you can give yourself these airs, 0, Woman of Three Cows! and moral. He first rises up rather indolently, selects his own 0, think of Donnell of the Ships, the Chief whom nothing it necessary that both should “face the fiddler," he com
sweetheart, and assuming such a station on the floor as renders daunted—
On the dance then goes, quietly at the outset ; graSee how he fell in distant Spain, unchronicled, unchanted ! He sleeps, the great O'Sullivan, where thunder cannot rouse- hand is up, and a crack of the fingers is heard; in a minute
dually he begins to move more sprightly; by and bye the right Then, ask yourself, should you be proud, good Woman of afterwards both hands are up and two cracks are heard, the Three Cows !
hilarity and brightness of his eye all the time keeping pace with O‘Ruark, Maguire, those souls of fire, whose names are the growing enthusiasm that is coming over him, and which shrined in story-
eye, by the way, is most lovingly fixed upon, or, we should Think how their high achievements once made Erin's greatest rather say, into, that of his modest partner. From that partglory
ner he never receives an open gaze in return, but in lieu Yet now their bones lie mouldering under weeds and cypress of this an occasional glance, quick as thought and brilliant as boughs,
a meteor, seems to pour into him a delicious fury that is made And so, for all your pride, will yours, O, Woman of 'Three Cows! up of love—sometimes a little of whisky, kindness, pride of
bis activity, and a reckless force of momentary happiness that The O'Carrolls also, famed when Fame was only for the defies description. Now commences the dance in earnest. boldest,
Up he bounds in a fling or a caper--crack go the fingers-cut Rest in forgotten sepulchres with Erin's best and oldest ;
and treble go the feet, heel and toe, right and left. Then he Yet who so great as they of yore in battle or carouse? Just think of that, and hide your head, good Woman of three Alings the right heel up to the ham, up again the left
, the whole face in a furnace-heat of ecstatic delight.
" Whoo! whoo! Cows !
your sowl! Move your elbow, Mickey (this to the fiddler). Your neighbour's poor, and you it seems are big with vain ideas, Quicker, quicker, man alive, or you'll lose sight of me. Because, inagh !* you've got three cows, one more, I see, Whoo! Judy, that's the girl ; handle your feet, avourneen ; than she has,
that's it, acushla! stand to me! Hurroo for our side of the That tongue of yours wags more at times than Charity allows, house !" And thus does he proceed with a vigour, and an But, if you are strong, be merciful, great Woman of Three agility, and a truth of time, that are incredible, especially Cows !
when we consider the whirlwind of enjoyment which he has • Forsooth.
to direct. The conduct of his partner, whose face is lit up
into a modest blush, is evidently tinged with his enthusiasm- go. But of all the parts of dress used to discriminate them for who could resist it ?—but it is exhibited with great natural from the fiddler, we must place as standing far before the grace, joined to a delicate vivacity that is equally gentle rest the dancing-master's pumps and stockings, for shoes he and animated, and our opinion precisely what dancing in a seldom wore. The utmost limit of their ambition appeared female ought to be a blending of healthful exercise and inno. to be such a jaunty neatness about that part of them in which cent enjoyment.
the genius of their business lay, as might indicate the extraI have seen not long since an Irish dance by our talented ordinary lightness and activity which were expeeted from them countryman Mr M'Clise, and it is very good, with the excep- by the people, in whose opinion the finest stocking, the lighttion of the girl who is dancing. That, however, is a sad est shoe, and the most symmetrical leg, uniformly denoted the blot upon what is otherwise a good picture. Instead of danc- most accomplished teacher. ing with the native modesty so peculiar to our countrywomen,
The Irish dancing-master was also a great hand at matchshe dances with the unseemly movements of a tipsy virago, making, and indeed some of them were known to negociate or a trull in Donnybrook; whilst her face has a leer upon it as such between families as well as individual lovers, with all that reminds one of some painted drab on the outside of a the ability of a first-rate diplomatist. Unlike the fiddler, the booth between the periods of performance. This must nei- dancing-master had fortunately the use of his eyes; and as there ther be given to us, nor taken as a specimen of what Irish is scarcely any scene in which to a keen observer the sympwomen are the chastest and modestest females on the earth. toms of the passion---to wit, blushings, glances, squeezes of the
There are a considerable variety of dances in Ireland, from hand, and stealthy whisperings-are more frequent or signifithe simple "reel of two” up to the country-dance, all of cant, so is it no wonder indeed that a sagacious looker-on, which are mirthful. There are, however, others which are such as he generally was, knew how to avail himself of them, serious, and may be looked upon as the exponents of the pa- and to become in many instances a necessary party to their thetic spirit of our country. Of the latter I fear several are successful issue. altogether lost; and I question whether there be many per- In the times of our fathers it pretty frequently happened sons now alive in Ireland who know much about the Horo that the dancing-master professed another accomplishment, Lhèig, which, from the word it begins with, must necessarily which in Ireland, at least, where it is born with us, might have been danced only on mournful occasions. It is only at appear to be a superfluous one ; we mean, that of fencing, or, wakes and funereal customs in those remote parts of the to speak more correctly, cudgel-playing. Fencing-schools of country where old usages are most pertinaciously clung to, this class were nearly as common in these times as dancingthat any elucidation of the Horo Lheig and others of our for schools, and it was not at all unusual for one man to teach gotten dances could be obtained. At present, I believe, the both. only serious one we have is the cotillon, or, as they term it in I have already stated that the Irish dancing-master was for the country, the cut-a-long. I myself have witnessed, when the most part a bachelor. This, however, was one of those very young, a dance which, like the hornpipe, was performed general rules which have very little to boast of over their but by one man. This, however, was the only point in which exceptions. I have known two or three married dancingthey bore to each other any resemblance. The one I allude masters, and remember to have witnessed on one occasion a to must in my opinion have been of Druidic or Magian descent. very affecting circumstance, which I shall briefly mention. It was not necessarily performed to music, and could not be Scarlatina had been very rife and fatal during the spring of danced without the emblematic aids of a stick and handker- the year when this occurred, and the poor man was forced by chief. It was addressed to an individual passion, and was the death of an only daughter, whom that treacherous disunquestionably one of those symbolio dances that were used ease had taken from him, to close his school during such a in pagan rites; and had the late Henry O'Brien seen it, there period as the natural sorrow for those whom we love usually is no doubt but he would have seized upon it as a felicitous requires. About a month had elapsed, and I happened to be illustration of his system.
present on the evening when he once more called his pupils Having now said all we have to say here about Irish dances, together. His daughter had been a very handsome and init is time we should say something about the Irish dancing. teresting young creature of sixteen, and was, until cut down master; and be it observed, that we mean him of the old school, like a flower, attending her father's school at the period I and not the poor degenerate creature of the present day, who, allude to. The business of the school went on much in the unless in some remote parts of the country, is scarcely worth usual way, until a young man who had generally been her description, and has little of the national character about him. partner got up to dance. The father played a little, but the
Like most persons of the itinerant professions, the old Irish music was unsteady and capricious ; he paused, and made a dancing-master was generally a bachelor, having no fixed strong effort to be firm; the dancing for a moment ceased, residence, but living from place to place within his own walk, and he wiped away a few hot tears from his eyes. Again be beyond which he seldom or never went. The farmers were resumed, but his eye rested upon the partner of that beloved his patrons, and his visits to their houses always brought a daughter, as he stood with the hand of another girl in his. holiday spirtt along with them. When he came, there was “Don't blame me,” said the poor fellow meekly, at the same sure to be a dance in the evening after the hours of labour, he time laying aside his fiddle and bursting into tears ; " she himself good-naturedly supplying them with the music. In was all I had, and my heart was in her ; sure you are all here return for this they would get up a little underhand collection but her, and she- Go home, boys and girls, oh, go home for him, amounting probably to a couple of shillings or half-a- and pity me. You knew what she was. Give me another crown, which some of them, under pretence of taking the fortnight for Mary's sake, for, oh, I am her father ! I will snuff-box out of his pocket to get a pinch, would delicately and meet you all again ; but never, never will I see you here ingeniously slip into it, lest he might feel the act as bringing without feeling that I have a breaking heart. I miss the light down the dancing-master to the level of the mere fiddler. He sound of her foot, the sweetness of her voice, and the smile of on the other hand, not to be outdone in kindness, would at the eye that said to me, these are all your scholars, father, but the conclusion of the little festivity desire them to lay down a I, sure I am your daughter."" Although the occasion was joydoor, on which he usually danced a few favourite hornpipes to ous and mirthful, yet such is the sympathy with domestic sorthe music of his own fiddle. This indeed was the great mas. row entertained in Ireland, that there were few dry eyes preter-feat of his art, and was looked upon as such by himself as sent, and not a heart that did not feel deeply and sincerely for well as by the people.
his melancholy and most afflicting loss. Indeed, the old dancing-master had some very marked After all, the old dancing-master, in spite of his most outlines of character peculiar to himself. His dress, for strenuous efforts to the contrary, bore, in simplicity of maninstance, was always far above the fiddler's, and this was ners, in habits of life, and in the happy spirit which he rethe pride of his heart. He also made it a point to wear a ceived from and impressed upon society, a distant but not incastor or Caroline hat, be the same shocking bad" distinct resemblance to the fiddler. Between these two, how. otherwise; but above all things, his soul within him was set ever, no good feeling subsisted. The one looked up at the other upon a watch, and no one could gratify him more than by as a man who was unnecessarily and unjustly placed above asking him before eompany what o'clock it was. He also con him; whilst the other looked down upon him as a mere drudge, trived to carry an ornamental staff, made of ebony, hiccory, through whom those he taught practised their accomplish. mahogany, or some rare description of cane--- which, if possi- ments. This petty rivalry was very amusing, and the “boys," ble, had a silver head and a silk tassel. This the dancing to do them justice, left nothing undone to keep it up. The masters in general seemed to consider as a kind of baton or fiddler had certainly the best of the argument, whilst the other wand of office, without which I never yot knew one of them to I had the advantage of a higher professional position. The ono