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and revolting deformity, which, exhibited to public view, would alike shock the feelings of the benevolent and the fastidious. “The groaning hospitals eject their dead,” in secrecy and silence ; and the passenger, as he contemplates one of those stately asylums of wretchedness and disease, may, in admiring the magnificence of the fabric, almost forget the condition of its inmates; and congratulate himself on being born in a land, exhibiting so many massive and durable proofs of its ancient and enduring philanthropy. But in southern Ireland, the eye is continually brought into close contact with the wants and woes of the destitute : and although it cannot dwell on them without a shudder of the heart, unless that heart be dead to every kindly feeling, still their frequent and undisguised display, speaks loudly to the soul, in the sober voice of truth: it tells us into wbat a wilderness sin has converted a world, in which there originally was no deformity-no decay-no anguish :
“None that die, And none that weep, and none that say, 'Farewell.""
It reminds us that we ourselves, however delicately brought up,-however blessed with health, and friends, and fortune,-are, by nature, frail and undeserving, as the hapless wretches over whose melancholy lot we breathe a sigh, or from whose haggard appearance we turn away with disgust. While the reflection that if they repent and believe,
they have, with ourselves, the same title to the kingdom of heaven; that we, unregenerate and upredeemed, are liable, with them, to the same eternal condemnation; and that, even as they are, so was the common Saviour of the rich and poor; destitute of this world's goods, while he tarried among us, “ despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;" this reflection, I repeat, should teach us to forego all pride and vain-glory in those temporal and transient gifts, which to-morrow
“Swift as the passing cloud of even
may vanish from our fond sight, and be no more seen. While the comparative patience with which, even in the absence of vital religion, we behold so many keen privations, so much pain and want endured, may well impress upon our minds the Apostolic injunction, “Having food and raiment, let us be therewith content.”—Gibbon says, “He is little of a philosopher who mourns the ruin of a palace more than the fall of a cottage :" I think I may almost add, Such an one is but little of a Christian. Whether a thatched roof or a fretted ceiling be above our heads-whether an eastern carpet or an earthen floor beneath our feet—whether our garb be of “purple and fine linen,” or of coarse texture and russet dyewhether our fare be “a dinner of herbs,” or stalled ox”
-can be of no great importance to him whose soul aspires after heavenly things; for
“where our treasure is, there will our heart be also.”—Oh! how vain and unworthy is the pride of man, which exults in outward distinctions above his fellows! Is it not the folly of the butterfly, which might vauntingly contrast its gaudy tints with the dusky hues of the moth, forgetful that each must perish before the same blasts of hasting winter? Or the contempt of the worm which crawls on golden sands, towards its fellow reptile that glides through common clay?
But to return from this digression.
A walk of less than three miles brought me to a small arched gateway, through which I passed, and found myself in the avenue of Kiltynan. On my right, at the foot of a declivity, flowed along the peaceful waters of Glash-aulin, * which has here subsided into a lowland stream; and, beyond them, at some distance, parent of their infant source, appeared the lofty mountain of Slieve-naMann, the traditional scene of many a feat of Fion Mc Coul (Fingal) and his gigantic brethren; having its grey summit of naked rocks enveloped in a vapoury wreath of mist.
The house was situated at no great length from the entrance to the grounds,-a modern structure in itself; but
• Glassai-alin,-pronounced Glassha-aulin, and, by contraction, Glash-aulin, signifies, in the expressive vernacular language of Ireland,“ a clear and rapid mountain stream." The river alluded to has its source in Slievena-Mann, a mountain 1800 or 2000 feet high.
built on a bold rock, and environed by hoary walls and towers, informing the traveller that Kiltynan Castle* had once been a place of warlike strength and warlike note in the country. A steep de. scending pathway, close to the mansion, led to the river-side; presenting, at its termination, walks branching off, right and left. The former I pursued for some time, with feelings of pleasing serenity. The bank that sloped to the water's edge was of verdant and luxuriant green; and beautified by an orchard, whose foliage and glowing fruit met the sight in rich profusion. The towering ash, the graceful elm, and lofty horse-chesnut reared their forms, pleasingly contrasted with the lowlier fruit-trees: a swan, in solitary pride, was ruffling his plumage, and breasting the tranquil stream, beneath whose surface silver trout were seen darting to and fro: a rich valley, in “sweet seclusion,” opened on the view at every step; and a heron, slowly winging her flight across that valley, in the distance; and a raven who, now and then, uttered his hoarse croak from some remote point; might seem to be the sole tenants of the woodland scene: for the day was rather
* Kiltynan Castle, the seat of Robert Cooke, Esq., is about seven miles distant from Clonmel; and, although I have often seen a more grand, I have seldom seen a more picturesque, landscape than that which immediately surrounds it. Some resemblance to the ancient mansion is still preserved in the modern dwelling. house.
chill-the heavens were overspread with damp thin vapours—and the more melodious songsters of the grove had ceased to warble, and cowered unseen in their hidden retreats.
Retracing my steps with some reluctance, and casting many a "longing, lingering glance be. hind,” I extended them in the opposite direction. The left hand path was less open than the one I had just forsaken : rocks, clad with ivy, rose on one side, and tall trees, closely planted, on the other, through whose intermingled branches the light shone with diminished force. But the object to which this pathway led, fully compensated for its dimness and want of diversity. At the foot of a crag, through a low natural arch, gushed, with great impetuosity, a current of water, locally called “the roaring spring," of the most pellucid transparency; and which, neither the rains of winter increase, nor the suns of summer diminish; but in sunshine and storm, in drought and deluge, it unceasingly flows on, and mingles its pure rill with the stream of the Glash-aulin.
As I stood here, wrapt in meditation, the contrast of the scenes I had just explored, flashed on my mind, as emblematic of that between the
ways of sinful pleasure and the ways of God. The one path was open, and lightsome, and cheering to the sight, and every object it presented to the eye, was calculated to soothe and please; but here and there a sickly hue might be faintly discerned among the foliage, speaking of a change at