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 hisgrimmestexpression of discontent, turned to her, with, "Theremadam!Thereare 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 theroyalpocket, 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 artof rendering it always pleasing, by his unaffected simple manner, the accuracy of his information, and the tact with which he imparts it.
Theinvestiturewhich 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 satOn polished stone, before his palace gate;With unguent smooth, the lucid marble shone,Where ancient Neleus sat, a rustic throne."
"The old man early rose, walk'd forth and satOn polished stone, before his palace gate;With unguent smooth, the lucid marble shone,Where ancient Neleus sat, a rustic throne."
"The old man early rose, walk'd forth and satOn polished stone, before his palace gate;With unguent smooth, the lucid marble shone,Where ancient Neleus sat, a rustic throne."
"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 inSanchoniatho, and a great deal more very pleasantly communicated, which you shall have in my journal, but nothere. I must, however, give you the history of the stone which you and I lookedat 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."
"Or Fate's deceived, or Heaven decrees in vain,Or where they find this stone the Scots shall reign."
"Or Fate's deceived, or Heaven decrees in vain,Or where they find this stone the Scots shall reign."
"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 Cathedralon 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 atour, 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 atTralee, 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, Bentleysecundus, 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, thatreeking, 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 whomto 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 aposte 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 theillegantnew road, along the upper lake which is so lonesome, and smothered in trees, that you might bemurtheredthere 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 perfectconveniencewith 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 astranger, far from exciting suspicion here, is a free passport to the best which these kind people possess. Whiskey was all whichthese had to offer, for this was a little colony of illicit distillers. We tasted theirpottein(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 henearedus, 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 thepeople."
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. Riseabovethis middle standard, and you soar beyond the want of sympathy, and owe your principal gratifications, it may be, to fortune alone. Fallbelowthe 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 thesesentiments 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 seewhythey 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. Suchare the charms ofthatsociety 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:hisviews 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 individualsthat 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 wordhomewritten 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 onheraccount, 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 abreak-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 ourrate of corresponding, to furnish half a quire of paper, andhasten 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.