Chapter VIII: Letter XVIII: Arthur Howard to Charles Falkland (2)

I delight so much in Mr. Otway, that I treasure all he says, and have given you his account of old Bentley as nearly as possible, in his own words; but just as I pressed him to tell me all that he knew of the nephew, we were joined by some stragglers of our party, amongst whom was Bentley himself. The weather was enchanting, the Lake dotted with boats, and we perceived that our island was not sacred to us. As we proceeded to explore the intricacies which thickets of the finest evergreens concealed from our view, several voices assailed us at once; we saw a number of gay-looking people land from a barge at a little distance; feathers waved in the air, peals of laughter were driven by the breeze, and we would gladly have retired, but a sort of rude curiosity, common to fashionable people, impelled the strangers to overtake and see _what we were like._ Conceive my astonishment on hearing my name pronounced, and, in a moment, finding myself in the midst of a group composed of Lady Matilda Murray, her pretty daughters, her son Henry, Lord John Craven, young Lewellyn Spencer, and half a score others, with whom I was slightly, or not at all acquainted, and who might have been mistaken for figures hired from a hair dresser's shop window to swell Lady Matilda's train, if it had not been for the uproar that they made. Conscious, long ago, of the revolution which has taken place in my mind, I never knew its full extent till this meeting. Nay, I have often felt at intervals that opportunity might again betray me into my former participation in all the follies which used to occupy without interesting me; but Dinas island has finished my conversion. The place seemed absolutely profaned by the presence of this silly group of milliners' dolls, and hair-dressers' dandies. It was so incongruous a sight, that, forgetting how lately I had been one of themselves; that I too had lived in London's west end, and that steam packets and post horses had not ceased to be when _I_ was deposited in the County of Kerry, I wondered like an idiot how they came to Killarney; and I believe looked as the savage of Averon might have done, had he suddenly met the _beau monde_ of Versailles in his forest. The whole set gathered round me at once, and, totally regardless of the company to which I was attached, they overwhelmed me with questions all talking together. Even Miss Murray, whom we used to call the "sleeping beauty," seemed inspired with animation, and became as obstreperous as her sister. When the din had in some degree subsided, Lady Matilda, in a languid drawl, said, "I assure you, Mr. Howard, you should not waste time in these wilds. Reports are in circulation respecting some members of your family; and delays are dangerous. The prize may slip out of your sister's fingers if you are tardy. I speak as a true friend, I do assure you." "Aye, aye," added her ass of a son, who was standing close to us, "bag the game Howard as fast as you can, or i' faith it may fly and leave you in the lurch."--Before I had time to utter a syllable in reply to these impertinencies, Miss Angelina Murray abruptly exclaimed, "oh! but would it not be excellent if Mr. Howard were to give us a sermon _al fresco_. All the world is of opinion that he has turned Methodist, and it would be charming to tell of this adventure when we go back. Do dear Mr. Howard, you may make it as short as ever you please; but _do_ indulge us with a discourse. Here I will send Lord John for my cloak; you shall put it on, and fancy it a full suit of canonicals. Pray do not disappoint your congregation."

This wit, which appeared to be considered quite attic, was received with bursts of laughter, which intoxicating its vapid author, she would have gone on plaguing me with her nonsense till now, if I had not cleared my throat, and, like a canary bird, conquered every other voice by the vociferation of my own. At length I was heard, and succeeded in telling Lady Matilda that I had come like herself to see Killarney; that like her too I intended returning to town, and if arrived there before her Ladyship, should be happy to execute her commands.

"Thank you," said she, "I shall return myself as fast as my delicate health will permit, and shall be happy to take you back in my suite. You seem to have got into a set of odd-looking people here. _Natives_, I conclude; and the sooner you leave them the better. As to me, I never was so weary in my life; and am so frightened too, since I came into this barbarous country, that I do not attempt to sleep, though I make two of the servants sit up every night with loaded arms to repel an attack. It is more than my nerves can endure; and I fear that I have already suffered in a greater degree than I am aware of."

"Are you not pleased with this scenery," said I, "Lady Matilda?" turning a deaf ear to absurdities which I could not answer: "Killarney is the only place with which, after hearing such encomiums as all people of taste lavish upon its exquisite beauty, I have not been disappointed; and the lower Lake is nothing, I am told, in comparison of what we have to see." "_I_ shall see no more, I promise you," replied _Miladi_; "I have had enough of this sort of thing. The air is too damp--it disagrees with me; and besides, the object is achieved. _We have been at Killarney_, and may pass our travelling examination. This sort of thing is vastly tiresome, and too fatiguing for my nerves. Then '_le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle_," I dread the Trosach, but I suppose that we must make a tour in Scotland, Lord John is so bent upon it; and really three days more in this horrible place would kill me."

Joyful to my ear were the sounds of parting; and having extricated myself, I scarcely know how, from this "unreal mockery," I took my leave, with a promise to call upon her Ladyship, and, bidding adieu to the rest of her _Court_, I bounded over every obstacle of rock or brush-wood, that separated me from my own party, and never felt the triumph of nature and good sense to be so complete as when I regained their society, and listened once more to their refreshing conversation. We were not molested any farther. I saw some of Lady Matilda's attendant swains yawn and stretch their arms, as I passed them by; and it was not long before we discovered them re-embarked, with cloaks spread across their knees, as a substitute for tables, and engaged in two regular matches at cards, while their boat returned towards Ross' Castle.

_We_ lingered untired till the moon rose upon the water, and never will the impression of that evening be erased from my imagination. We rowed round Dinas, we coasted Glena, and again took a view of Innisfallen wrapped in shadows. We had two bugles on board, and were so fortunate as to secure a man of the name of Spillane, who is a capital performer, for our principal musician. Nothing could be more rapturous than the sensations I experienced when M'Carty, whose fine athletic form, as he sweeps the oar, is worthy of the canvass, called to Spillane and his brother bugler, saying, "Come, my hearties, the oars are flagging--blast up a tune that will make the boat walk of herself." No sooner had the word been given, than the inspiring air of Stuart memory, called "Who'll be King but Charley?" was admirably played. The effect was magical. The sinews that had been flaccid before, from heat and toil, seemed braced afresh. The men were silent--sat erect--and appeared endowed with new powers. No longer a set of slouching boors, mumbling each his quid of tobacco, which the peasants here chew as the Turks do opium or beetle nut, our boatmen rose in dignity as they yielded to the talismanic influence of a strain replete with the expression of spirit and pathos, that _rainbow_ character of music, so deeply interesting, and of which the Irish are so sensible, that it seems to speak directly to their hearts, in a language all their own. The boat really _did_ appear, as M'Carty said, "to walk of herself" over the Lake, so long, so smooth, so vigorous, was the pull, and such perfect time did the rowers observe; but Spillane's power of enchantment was not confined to them. The whole band partook of the emotion which he excited. My dear aunt turned her face towards the dark wooded side of Glena, and rivers of gentle tears were silently mingled with the waves below. Mrs. Fitzroy stood up, fired, as she afterwards said, with such enthusiasm, that, like Semiramis of antient memory, she could in that moment have placed herself at the head of a warlike host, and led them on to death or victory. She absolutely looked pale with the intenseness of sublime sensation. Russell was, as usual, in a state of convulsion; and all were silent, till, actuated by an impulse compounded of all the varied sensibilities of those around me, I gave utterance to a passing wish that I was Charles-Edward. "And _I_ Flora M'Donald!" exclaimed dear little Fanny; who seemed delighted at having her tongue untied, and finding a precedent in my rapture for expressing her own--but without the most distant idea of paying me a compliment, by coupling her destiny with mine. _Her_ wish had, in fact, been formed without reference to me; and, had I said anything else than what I did say, it would have equally unlocked Fanny's lips, who longed to speak, but who was withheld by a native modesty, which is inseparable even from her moments of greatest excitement, from being the _first_ to do so. It was _her_ turn now to govern our sympathies. She had touched a new spring, and many a gay smile shone through the tears that had been flowing. Many a merry peal of hearty laughter brought us again into cheerful communion. "Miss Fanny Douglas," said Russell, "I envy Howard, who has received so explicit a declaration of your kind feelings towards him." Fanny looked _blank_ for a second or two before she caught his meaning, so _single_ had been the thought that occupied her mind when she spoke--but seizing on the new idea presented, she blushed violently, _only_ because it _was_ new; and with that exquisite _naïveté_ which is worth all the treasures of Golconda, she hastily answered, "Indeed, no: I did not think of any one except my favourite Pretender alone; but that makes little difference, for my cousin knows perfectly well that whatever Flora could accomplish for Charles-Edward I should desire to perform for Arthur, if he stood in need of my assistance."

I must now hurry you to the landing-place, transport you from thence to the inn, dispatch supper, and distribute the group into their several apartments. Russell contrived, as I squeezed into mine, which is hardly large enough to turn about in, to impart his secret to the faithful _porches_ of mine ear; and I have it now from his own confession, that he is in the list of _killed and wounded_. I asked whether he had any reason to expect reciprocity of disposition, but he said no. "I _hope,_ but I certainly have no reason to _expect_. These charming Douglasses love each other so much that it is very difficult to penetrate their sentiments towards strangers. Girls in general think little of mothers, except as necessary appendages. A _chaperone_ is indispensable, and therefore young ladies tolerate their mammas in that character; but these cousins of yours seem to idolize their parent, and to be almost absorbed in studying her countenance, and reading every thought as it arises in her soul." Annesley's entrance interrupted our dialogue, which ended for the present; and the next morning saw us gliding over the calm expanse which we had traversed the day before, to visit a new region, of such perfection as, if I had not forsworn all description, would puzzle me to find words in which to clothe it. Traits and touches--mere memoranda--are all that I shall give you. Of the first, I must relate one which is worthy of your moral sketch-book. There is a narrow strait, of exquisite beauty, dividing the upper from the lower lake, which, from the shelving nature of the ground, assumes somewhat the appearance of a rapid. At this place it is customary for the boatmen to quit their boats, which are dragged up by main force to a joyous cry, which they raise in concert, as American sailors do in heaving the anchor. It is a particularly cheerful sound, and pleasing from the measured cadence in which it is given. While the boatmen, who strip off their shoes and stockings, jump into the water, and ranging themselves two and two, perform this feat, the company are always landed, and pursue a winding path on the verge of the water, till the boat is drawn into the lake above, and they are ushered into that aquatic paradise.

On the night preceding this day, a poor fellow had reached this narrow pass from the upper country in a tiny skiff. A sudden gust, which frequently occurs in this amphitheatre of mountains, hurried him so irresistibly down the watery descent that his little bark was overset, and no human being living near the spot, his voice was not heard;--unable to swim, he was drowned, and his lifeless corse was extricated in the morning from a bed of arbutus, which lay so softly on the surface of the lake that it appeared more like a Naiad's couch than the bier of poor Florence O'Neil. Our men were none of them related to him. They only knew who he was, and that he was unfortunate. When we reached this little gorge, we were told to prepare for landing, and M'Carty More standing up in the boat, poising his oar with graceful ease, and making no more of its weight than if it had been a straw, addressed himself to us all, and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope that your honours will not take it amiss if we draw up the boat silent and quiet, like the poor fellow himself that lay here this morning." So saying, he and his comrades, without uttering a sound, pulled our bark forward in the profoundest stillness; thus paying a tribute of delicate feeling to the manes of a departed brother, which would have adorned a far higher class in life. We were all affected by this incident, which was quickly changed from a merely sentimental occurrence into one of practical compassion and usefulness, by a proposal from my aunt, that the same spot which had in the former moment been dedicated to remembrance of the dead, should now be marked by tender care for the living. "Here is my subscription," said she, "and when we have made up a little sum for the widow and orphans of poor Florence, M'Carty More, if you please, shall have the pleasure of bestowing it." Joy lit up the countenances which had been just before honestly expressive of sadness, and showers of choicest blessings were lavished on the mover of this benevolent project. M'Carty's thanks were as warm, as if he had been made rich himself; and when Russell good humouredly said to him, "I suppose that you are flattered, by being chosen to convey glad tidings to the poor woman and her children, and pleased that Mrs. Douglas should put such confidence in you;" his noble reply was, "No your honour. The lady would not have mistrusted _any_ of us; we may all be bad enough, but there is not a man in the boat, I'll be bound to say, would rob the widow. Every one of these lads, sir, gave half a crown this morning to bury poor O'Neil, and while they had a potato themselves they would not _begrudge_ the half of it to her that's left desolate."

Mrs. Fitzroy gave a searching look, and shook her head at old Bentley, who growled under his breath, but for _once_ did not express his scepticism in words. We now entered the upper lake, and all language fails to do justice here.

Do you remember the happy valley of Abyssinia, described in Rasselas? Here is in water what that was in land. So completely are you surrounded with the magnificent range of mountains which inclose this little world of beauty, that you seem as if separated at once from all that is external to it. You perceive no means of either egress or ingress, and but for the recollection of having entered by that narrow pass which I have described, might fancy yourself let down from the skies. This lake is sprinkled over thickly with islands, every one of which would make a picture in itself. These are covered with the most luxuriant evergreens, the glossy brightness of which might warrant a belief (were fairies as efficient personages as in the "olden time") that they had been under water till your approach, and rose at that moment into air, "dripping odours" in all the freshness of a new creation. While we gazed in astonishment at the scene before us, silence again took up her sceptre, and no one appeared willing to disturb her reign.

I cannot with accuracy describe any feelings save my own, though I think I could read several minds amid the group; but for myself, I felt actually raised above this nether sphere, and as if I was holding communion with Deity, in this the first hour of my life in which I beheld his perfect workmanship, unspoiled by the finger of man. I was in a _trance_, and should have lost every remembrance that human creatures surrounded me, had not M'Carty More, in a half whisper directed to Frederick, who wins every heart which was not already his own, interrupted my musings by saying, "Mr. Douglas, I come from the rightful kings of this place, and though I am a poor man now, I can make _you_ king, sir, of one of these _islands_, and, with the help o'God, you _shall_ be king of it sure enough: pull my hearties for M'Carty More's Island."

We were awakened from our reverie. The tear drops were brushed from aunt Douglas's eye. Mrs. Fitzroy's cheek, which blanches with emotion, resumed its colour. Emily and Charlotte, whose countenances are the most pelucid, mirrors of all that passes within, were illuminated by Frederick's approaching triumph, and Fanny's ready joy sparkled so brightly in her eyes, as, in a poet's fancy at least, to make the rippling of the lake, while our bark shot nimbly through its gentle bosom, shine with more dancing radiance than the sun alone could have imparted. Now followed a scene of mock heroic, amusing from the gravity with which it was conducted, and curious from the mixture of knowledge and ignorance, of law and fiction, which it involved. We were marshalled by M'Carty in a circle, on this beautiful _spangle_ of earth, the sovereignty of which was to be bestowed upon our youthful chief. Frederick was placed in the midst; a sod was cut from the turf, and an arbutus twig severed from the shrubs which hung over our heads. With these insignia of feudal investiture, M'Carty approached the monarch who was to be, and kneeling on one knee presented _seizin_ of his dominions, with an appropriate enumeration in correct Latin, of the rights and royalties intended to be conveyed by this Imperial grant, the boatmen forming a semicircle exterior to the ring already mentioned. When Frederick received the symbols of his enfeoffment with a graceful bow, a shout from the men proclaimed the act of acceptance; and next followed the anointing, which was _here_ performed with "mountain dew," alias whiskey, which I suspect M'Carty and his fellows prefer on such occasions to oil. Two or three bottles of this Irish usquebaugh were brought from the boat, one of them was dashed upon a rock, and the name of "Frederick's Island," pronounced by M'Carty, who enacted the part of high-priest. The next step was to quaff a libation to the honour of the new monarch, in which part of the ceremony he was obliged to join; and after drinking to the health and happiness of the crew, Fred. was installed, desired to take his seat on the rude throne prepared by spirituous unction for his accommodation, and to exercise his first act of authority, in arresting the arm of Russell, who was busily employed in cutting a fine walking-stick of arbutus.

The party were again seated in their boat, when old Bentley repaid Mrs. Fitzroy's piercing look, of which I told you, _in kind_, and with his _grimmest_ expression of discontent, turned to her, with, "_There_ madam! _There_ are cunning rascals for you! Those scoundrels will elect a king from every boat-load of blockheads that they bring to the upper lake during the season, and will wheedle money out of the _royal_ pocket, and guzzle whiskey at the general cost, till they have not an eye left in their heads." How Mrs. Fitzroy would have turned the edge of old Bentley's ire if she had been disengaged, I cannot tell, but she was listening with so much interest to Domine, that Bentley's tirade passed over her mind, and seemed to be shaken from it like "dew drops from the lion's mane," while she gave her attention to Mr. Oliphant, who is really a mine of knowledge, and who possesses the art of rendering it always pleasing, by his unaffected simple manner, the accuracy of his information, and the tact with which he imparts it.

The _investiture_ which we had just witnessed, called forth an agreeable and instructive account of consecration in all its varieties of mode, from the field of Luz mentioned in the 28th chapter of Genesis, to the stone alluded to in the Odyssey, on which Neleus sat "equal in counsel to the Gods." Pope, I remember, translated this passage in four lines, which I gave to Mrs. Fitzroy, in pencil on a scrap of paper, as Domine paused on his tide of learned lore:

"The old man early rose, walk'd forth and sat
On polished stone, before his palace gate;
With unguent smooth, the lucid marble shone,
Where ancient Neleus sat, a rustic throne."

From thence Mr. Oliphant adverted to the superstitious accounts of the Baithylia, or consecrated stones of Phoenicia mentioned in _Sanchoniatho_, and a great deal more very pleasantly communicated, which you shall have in my journal, but not _here_. I must, however, give you the history of the stone which you and I looked at not long ago, in Westminster Abbey. It lies, you may recollect, under the old chair on which the Kings of England are crowned in the Chapel of Edward the First, and a Scotchman who was standing by when you and I were there took the whole credit of this sacred relique to himself, declaring that it was originally a supernatural gift to his country, and had a prophecy attached to it of the highest importance to the Caledonians. It was called "_Ni fallit Fatum_," and gave rise to the verses which are translated into English thus:

"Or Fate's deceived, or Heaven decrees in vain,
Or where they find this stone the Scots shall reign."

But it seems that this precious morsel of antiquity, said to be the pillow of Jacob, on which he laid his head, when he slept on the plain of Luz, and dreamed of the ladder that reached to the skies, was really wrested from Ireland (whither it had travelled from its original site, first to Jerusalem, from thence into Spain, and thence again into this country, where it lay treasured as it deserved to be, in the great Cathedral on the rock of Cashel) by Fergus the First of Scotland, who conveyed it to Scone, and on it the Scottish Kings were always placed to be crowned, till Edward the First transported this "Patriarchal bolster" to Westminster, where it is still preserved with veneration, not unmixed perhaps with a certain dread of seeing the dynasty pass away, should the stone set out again upon a _tour_, as the marriage of Margaret of Scotland into the Royal Family of England, gave colour to the fidelity of that prophecy to which I have alluded, when this bone of contention quitted its Northern abode.

If Domine had not soon come to the end of his story, we should probably have been out all night in the lakes, for so intense was the curiosity of M'Carty and his myrmidons to devour every syllable of the tale, that they lay upon their oars, and appeared in danger of being metamorphosed into images of stone themselves, such fixed attention did they bestow upon a legend which I am certain they quickly made their own.

To avoid producing a dearth of paper at Tralee, whence I procured my last supply, I shall now pack you up, and placing you in the car of a balloon, permit you no longer to loiter your happy hours amid scenes of enchantment. You must neither land on Ronayve's Island, nor accompany me to Fure Lake, nor wander by moonlight through the Abbey of Muccruss, nor toil to the top of the eagle's nest, nor visit Dunlow-gap, Mangerton punch-bowl, nor any other spot in this region of fascination. Were I to indulge your passion for romance, and allow you to linger any longer at Killarney, I should fear your becoming a hermit, and requesting Lord Kenmare's permission to build a cell, in which the remainder of your days would be dedicated to solitude and contemplation. Take then your bird's-eye view of the map, as it lies spread beneath you; return to your inn; with a mind torn between love and curiosity, quit the society of our charming female companions, leaving them under the care of Messieurs Otway, Oliphant, and Bentley senior, descend from your balloon, mount a rough Kerry poney, and if you can ride like a Tartar through the desert, you may join Russell, Annesley, Frederick, Bentley _secundus_, and your humble servant, in a two day's trip over Kenmare mountain, the Priest's leap, and through Neddeen to Bantry. Oh Glengariffe, surpassing Glengariffe! thou "brightest gem of the Western wave," in what words am I to paint thee?

This transcendent spot was the limit of our excursion, and how can I, in general terms, more aptly sum up its attractions than in telling you, that _reeking_, as we were, from Killarney, the matchless scenery of which was still vibrating on every retina, shadowed in our imaginations and resting in the hearts of all our party, who felt as if nature was reposing, admiration drained to its dregs, and language run out, by all that we had been called upon to see, think, and feel, so recently, Glengariffe strung each palsied nerve anew. We rose "like giants refreshed with wine," and experienced that delight which only the highest excitement of mental or physical excellence occasionally produces, namely a consciousness of power within ourselves, of which, till thus extraordinarily elicited, we do not dream of being in possession. Perhaps this is one of the most pleasurable feelings of the human mind, and we now enjoyed it rapturously, surprising our own ears with the awakened flow of eloquence, poured out from fountains which might have been supposed already exhausted; and admiring beauties in all around, the greatest charm of which, though sometimes undiscerned, is the vivid reflection from our own souls. But you must only glance your eye along that blue expanse, and catch a hasty glimpse of that splendid bay, where the concentrated powers of France, while menacing destruction, were themselves destroyed. Before we regain our inn, and rejoin our friends, you must pause for a moment with me in a scene which, from its singularity, delayed our retrograde progress.

Having mounted our shaggy steeds, we turned our faces, like Sir Bertram, "to the wolds," and conceitedly imagined ourselves able to retrace, unassisted, the homeward path; but we were mistaken; and after proceeding for sometime without meeting a living creature of whom to ask the way, we at length espied a thing scarcely human, naked almost to the hips, and trotting at a quick, equal pace, holding a staff horizontally in both hands, and having a tattered weather-beaten bag that looked like an old Spanish wine skin, strapped upon his back.

"Who, and what are you?" exclaimed Russel.

This was not a conciliating address, and accordingly it was rudely answered: "May be as good as yourself. I am a post; and my father was a post before me."

This letter-carrier for so we interpreted him to be, never relaxed his steady trot, nor condescended to be angry. Calm contempt appeared to be the feeling which dictated his reply; and he would have passed on his way with-deigning to look behind him, if Frederick had not said, in his cheerful manner, "My good fellow, I know that you are the very man to tell us how we shall get into the track that leads over the mountain to Killarney, for I have lost my way, and my friends here are strangers?"

The youth immediately became a _poste restante_, and gazing benignantly on Frederick, setting his voice to a very different modulation from that in which he first spoke and resting his chin on the staff which he now stuck into the ground, he replied, "Why then, indeed, I'd do more than that for ye. Go down till you see the smoke, then turn to the left and face north'ards; turn again to the west, and you'll find a track that will bring you out at the kiln by a short cut, and then you can't miss your way any more, but will get down into the _illegant_ new road, along the upper lake which is so lonesome, and smothered in trees, that you might be _murthered_ there in all aise, and pitched over into the lake, and no one know what become of you during ash nor oak."

"And pray," said Frederick, "how am I to find out north and west in this strange place."

"Then sure, your honour, I suppose, isn't such a poor scholar as that you wouldn't know very well by the sun."

Fred. gave the poor fellow a shilling, and encouraged with this agreeable notice, of the perfect _convenience_ with which we could be "_murthered_," we pursued our route; and found the instructions which he had received, accurate to a tittle. The smoke, which was the first finger-post in the journey, brought us into a deep ravine, wild, barren, and silent as the grave, yet judging by the wreaths that seemed to be sent up from numerous chimnies that were invisible, populous of human life. We looked for habitations but there was not a single roof to be seen, nor an individual to be met with. Curiosity prompted us to approach nearer to this uncommon defile; and here we found numbers of poor creatures, who, terrified at the sound of so many horses' feet, and dreading a visit from the police, were employed in hastily extinguishing their fires. We speedily tranquillized their minds, and then received that generous welcome and hospitality which the poorest sons and daughters of Erin, never fail to extend to the stranger.

To be a _stranger_, far from exciting suspicion here, is a free passport to the best which these kind people possess. Whiskey was all which these had to offer, for this was a little colony of illicit distillers. We tasted their _pottein_ (their name here for the purest spirit) to oblige our hosts, and scattering a few pieces of silver amongst them, turned to the left, then to the north, made for the kiln, and were just descending from the moor, into something resembling a road, when a figure stalking along the horizon, of apparently gigantic stature, arrested our attention; we drew up, and as he _neared_ us, we beheld indeed a prodigious form of at least six feet in height, black as Erebus, skin, clothes, and all; and armed with a pole of fully ten feet in length, terminated by an immense bush of holly. Warned by the former incivility which he had excited, Russell now thought proper to leave all enquiries to Frederick, who with a kind, "good morrow my lad," begged to know where this Patagonian was going, and why so accoutered?

"Plase your honour," answered the spectre, "I am the sweep o'the mountains, and I'm going yander to clane some chimblies for the people."

What grotesque habits, and how extra-ordinary the mixture in this country of barbarism and civilization!

Arrived at length, we found all the pleasure of joining such a circle as we had left behind, doubled by our short absence.

An excursion such as this to Killarney, brings the people who are included in it, so informally and so constantly together as to preclude the possibility, I should think, of neutral feelings at parting. This is a strong proof, one would imagine, that a state of life mid-way between poverty and riches is the surest soil of domestic felicity. Rise _above_ this middle standard, and you soar beyond the want of sympathy, and owe your principal gratifications, it may be, to fortune alone. Fall _below_ the medium, and the anxieties of life press so painfully as to annihilate, from an opposite cause, that dependence on each other, which constitutes the perfection of human happiness.

Falkland, did you ever expect to hear these sentiments from your friend Arthur Howard?

We had now passed ten days in an intercourse so intimate, so intellectual, the tastes, the faculties, of each individual had been brought into such activity, that, like the manufacturers of soda water who compress three or four atmospheres into a pint bottle, we seemed to have condensed into one short fortnight, more solid enjoyment of life, than would eke out half a century in the vapid inanity of fashionable routine. During this blissful dream, we had known nothing of factitious wants, nor artificial accommodations. There was a simplicity, a reality in our pleasures which deluded us into forgetfulness that the "sweetest are still the fleetest," because they seemed so natural that one did not see _why_ they were to cease; and when the last evening actually arrived, it came with a shock as dreadful, as if entirely unexpected. The fastidiousness of former habits had vanished. Our apartments were large, and numerous enough, our cold dinners were eaten with appetite. We had felt no blank, and we desired no accession to our comforts. Such are the charms of _that_ society which I reviled, because I did not comprehend, and was unable at first to appreciate its value. Alas! I know it now too well; and yet I am better off than my neighbours. I may hope to pass much of my time with the Douglas family, while poor Russell and Annesley, who are certainly minus a heart each, may never see them again. The former will not leave Glenalta, for which place we set out to-morrow without trying his fate. A few short months ago, and I should have ridiculed the idea of Russell's being refused by one of my country cousins. Handsome, gay, musical, sought after, with fair prospects, and good connections, that Russell could not command any possible Miss Douglas, or Miss any thing else, possessing no more than five or six thousand pounds, was I confess what never occurred to me as matter of doubt. I now feel apprehensions that my friend may suffer disappointment, as with all the penetration which I can exercise, I perceive nothing in Charlotte's manner beyond easy kindness and polite attention.

Annesley is not a free agent: _his_ views are lost in clouds; and should little Kepple live to be of age, his father may levy fines, and cut off the entail which will otherwise give the estate of Compton to Frank, who will have little or nothing, except in this event, and he will therefore never betray his feelings towards Emily. Perhaps he may hope that in absence they will wear away; but were this not the case, Annesley has great self-command, and would suffer much rather than commit himself. I know too that he has pride, which would ill brook defeat, and in his present circumstances he could not expect to be successful.

I think that I can perceive a knitting of your brow, and can also tell the cause of it. I anticipate your question, and reply, before it is asked, No, there is not the slightest tendency in my cousin's manner indicating that Annesley's departure will leave a single pang in her breast. Emily is free as the air of her mountains; so let your forehead resume its unruffled serenity.

How various were the feelings of the individuals that composed our party, and how different from those which accompanied us when we left that place a fortnight ago. In my aunt's face I read the word _home_ written in every direction. Spite of all her efforts to be cheerful, suppressed pain sat on every feature during her stay at Killarney; and spite of all the natural glow which beamed in the countenances of her children amid the pure pleasures of that enchanting scene, their mother's looks so far alloyed their happiness as to make them sometimes long for return on _her_ account, and therefore on their own. Mr. Otway, too, retraced the road to Lisfarne with calm satisfaction; but for the younger members of the group (and I believe that I may also include Mrs. Fitzroy) the prospect of a _break-up_, the certainty of parting, and the uncertainty of meeting again, corroded every heart.

We reached Glenalta in a beautiful sun-set, but the letters which awaited our return have so completely absorbed my thoughts, that I pass over sufficient materials, _at our_ rate of corresponding, to furnish half a quire of paper, and hasten to say that a few lines from Louisa bring me the disagreeable intelligence that I have offended my mother, who desires me not to go to town, but to set out directly for the Continent and join you. This I shall only do in case of finding that my presence in London is of no use; and thither I must fly. Mrs. Fitzroy offers me a seat in her caleche if I remain here another week; and as there is nothing to prevent this short delay, I have arranged to be her companion. Russell and Annesley leave this in two days, and you will probably meet them ere long; at all events they will take care that this packet reaches you in safety. I have inclosed for your amusement the letter to which Mr. Otway alluded at Glena, when the conversation between Mrs. Fitzroy and old Bentley induced him to mention having lately received it. Mrs. Fitzroy desired a copy, and permits me to send it to you, provided that you return it whenever you have an opportunity. I inclose you also Louisa's letter.

You shall hear from me after I reach Grosvenor-square, and will not envy my feelings in the interim.

Adieu, my dear Falkland!
I am ever your affectionate,
ARTHUR HOWARD.