{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_54396/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_54396","id":"gutenberg_54396","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54396","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Other","Category: Journals","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Ireland -- Periodicals"],"text":"THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL.\n\n      NUMBER 21.       SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1840.       VOLUME I.\n\n[Illustration: THE SOUND AND ISLAND OF DALKEY, COUNTY OF DUBLIN.]\n\nThe little rocky island of Dalkey forms the south-eastern extremity of\nthe Bay of Dublin, as the bold and nearly insulated promontory of Howth\nforms its north-eastern termination. It is separated from the mainland of\nthe parish from which it takes, or to which, perhaps, it gives its name,\nby a channel called Dalkey Sound, which is about nine hundred yards long,\nthree hundred and eight yards wide at its south entrance, and two hundred\nand nine yards wide at its north entrance; the soundings in mid-channel\nvarying from ten to five fathoms. This channel was anciently considered\na tolerably safe and convenient harbour, and was the principal anchorage\nfor ships frequenting the little castellated seaport town of Dalkey, from\nwhich merchandise was transferred to Dublin, as well by boats as by cars.\nHence also the harbour of Dalkey was frequently used in former times on\nstate occasions for the embarkation or landing of the Irish viceroys and\nother state officers. The Lord Deputy Philip de Courtney landed here\nin 1386, and Sir John Stanley, the deputy of the Marquis of Dublin, in\nthe following year. In 1414, Sir John Talbot, then Lord Furnival, and\nafterwards the renowned Earl of Shrewsbury, landed here as Viceroy of\nIreland; and in 1488, Sir Richard Edgecombe embarked at this harbour\nfor England, after having taken the homage and oaths of fidelity of the\nnobility who had espoused the cause of Lambert Simnel. Here also landed\nSir Edward Bellingham, Lord-Lieutenant in 1548, and Sir Anthony St Leger\nin 1553; and it was from this harbour that the Earl of Sussex, in 1558,\nembarked a large body of forces to oppose the Scottish invaders at the\nisle of Rathlin; and lastly, again, it was here that the unfortunate Sir\nJohn Perrot landed as viceroy in 1584. The conversion of this sound into\nan asylum harbour was at one time contemplated by government, and a plan\nfor the purpose was proposed by the Committee of Inland Navigation; but\nfrom certain objections which were made to it, the project was abandoned.\nThe situation would certainly have been a more imposing and magnificent\none than that ultimately chosen.\n\nThe island of Dalkey is of a nearly oval form, having a very irregular\nsurface, in part rocky, and in part consisting of a fertile salt marsh,\nvery valuable for the cure of sick cattle, who by feeding on it quickly\nrecover and fatten. It is five hundred and twenty-eight yards long from\nnorth to south, and three hundred and eight yards wide from east to west,\nand comprises about twenty-nine acres of pasture. Its shore is rocky,\nand in some parts precipitous, and it commands the most beautiful views\nof the bays of Dublin and Killiney. Among several springs of fresh water\non it, one on its south-west side has long been considered to possess\nsanative properties, and was formerly much resorted to for the cure of\nscurvy and other diseases. On the same side there are the roofless walls\nof an ancient church dedicated to St Benet or Benedict, the patron of\nthe parish; and at its south-eastern extremity there is a battery, and a\nMartello tower which differs from all the other structures of this class\nerected on the Irish coast, in having its entrance not at the side but\non its top. It is traditionally stated that during the remarkable plague\nwhich visited Dublin in 1575, many of the citizens fled to this island\nfor safety.\n\nDalkey island has several smaller ones contiguous to it, one of which,\ndenominated Lamb Island, is covered with grass, while the others present\na surface of bare granite. Of the latter islets one is called Clare Rock,\nand another the Maiden Rock, an appellation derived from a tradition said\nto be of twelve hundred years\u2019 antiquity, that twelve young maidens from\nBullock and Dalkey having gone over to this rock to gather _duilisk_,\nthey were overtaken by a sudden storm so violent as to prohibit\nassistance from the larger island, and all miserably perished. To the\nnorth of these islands is situated the group of rocks called the Muglins,\nextending one hundred and thirty-two yards in length, and seventy-one in\nwidth. On those rocks, in 1765, the pirates Mac Kinley and Gidley were\nhanged in chains for the murder of Captain Glass.\n\nMost of the features we have thus noticed, together with a portion of the\nadjacent shore of the bay, are exhibited in our prefixed illustration;\nand to the older citizens of our metropolis, as well as to many others of\nour countrymen, they must, we think, awaken many stirring recollections\nof the striking changes in the appearance of the scenery in many\ndistricts adjacent to the city, as well as in the character of the\ncitizens themselves, which have taken place within the present century.\nIt does not, indeed, require a very great age for any of us Dublinians\nto remember when the country along the southern shore of our beautiful\nbay, from Dunleary to the land\u2019s-end on Dalkey common, presented a\nnearly uniform character of wildness and solitude--heathy grounds,\nbroken only by masses of granite rocks, and tufts of blossomy furse,\nwithout culture, and, except in the little walled villages of Bullock\nand Dalkey, almost uninhabited. The district known as the Commons of\nDalkey, which extended from the village to the eastern extremity of the\nbay, \u201cthe Sound,\u201d or channel lying on its north-east, and the rocky hill\nof Dalkey on its south--this in particular was a locality of singularly\nromantic beauty, a creation of nature in her most sportive mood, and\nwholly untouched, as it would appear, by the hand of man. Giant masses of\ngranite rocks, sometimes forming detached groups, and at others arranged\ninto semicircular and even circular ledges, gave the greatest variety and\ninequalities of surface, and formed numerous dells of the greenest sward,\nso singularly wild and secluded that the elves themselves might justly\nclaim them as their own. To these natural features should be added those\nof the rocky iron-bound coast, with its little coves, commanding from its\ncliffs the most delightful views of Killiney Bay, the Sound, the Island\nof Dalkey, and the Bay of Dublin. These latter features still remain,\nand can never change; but of all the others which we have noticed, what\nis there left? Scarcely a vestige that would remind the spectator of\nwhat the locality had been. The rocks have been nearly all removed, or\nconverted into building materials for an assemblage of houses of all\nkinds of fantastic construction, surrounded for the most part by high and\nunsightly stone walls; and, except in the views obtained from some spots\nin it, the picturesque beauty of Dalkey common is gone for ever.\n\nThe common of Dalkey is now a place of life--a suburb, as we might\nsay, of the city; but at the period to which we have alluded, it was\nordinarily a scene of the most desert solitude. A few cottages stretching\nfrom the village along its southern boundary, and a solitary cabin\noriginally built by miners, and which still remains, were the only\nhabitations to be seen. But though thus uninhabited, it was not at all\ntimes a scene of loneliness. On Sundays and other holidays its rocks and\ndells were peopled with numerous pic-nic or sod parties of the middle\nclass of the citizens. The song went round, and the echoes were startled\nby the merry notes of the fiddle or the flute, to which the several\ngroups of happy dancers footed the Irish jig and country dance. Nor\nwere such pic-nics confined exclusively to the citizens of the middle\nclass--the sporters of jaunting cars and jingles. Parties of the higher\nranks occasionally assembled here on week days, and had their rural fetes\non a larger and more magnificent scale. It was our own good fortune to be\nan invited guest to one of these, of which we may be permitted to give\nsome account, as an example of a state of manners and usages of society\nin Ireland now no longer to be found in persons of the class to which we\nrefer. It was a pic-nic party given by the Alexanders, the Armits, and\nthe present popular and deservedly honoured veteran the Commander of the\nForces in Ireland--then lieutenant-colonel of the 18th or Royal Irish\nFusileers, which were at the time quartered in Dublin. On the morning of\nas beautiful a day in June as ever came, the inhabitants of the leading\nthoroughfares of the city, and those along the road side from Dublin to\nDunleary, were surprised by the unusual crowds of open carriages of all\nkinds conveying the youth and beauty of the aristocracy of the metropolis\nto the chosen scene; and when the fine band of the Fusileers, in their\nmagnificent full-dress uniforms of blue and gold, were seen to pass along\non the same route, innumerable parties of the inferior ranks of the\ninhabitants of the city and south-eastern suburbs were hastily formed to\nfollow in their wake. At noon, or a little after, not only the majority\nof the original party were assembled in a beautiful and extensive\ngreen amphitheatre, surrounded by rocky cliffs, but those cliffs were\nthemselves covered by a crowd of smaller parties--tributary stars around\nthe more splendid galaxy that occupied the centre of the brilliant scene.\n\nTwo splendid marquees were erected at an early hour in the morning--one\nfor the accommodation of the ladies, the other for the dinner party; and\ntwo beautiful pleasure-yachts which conveyed a portion of the invited\nto the scene, rested at anchor in the Sound, and with their white sails\nand coloured streamers contributed their share of life and beauty to the\nlandscape. Let the reader then imagine what a spectacle was presented\nwhen the groups of quadrille-dancers--the beauty and gallantry of the\nmetropolis and its vicinity--commenced dancing on the greensward to the\nmusic of one of the finest of military bands--what a delight to the happy\nmultitude of spectators who looked on at the graceful and tempered gaiety\nof high life! The mind of the accomplished painter Watteau, in his finest\npictures of the _fetes champetres_ of the French, never conceived any\nthing so exquisitely beautiful and romantic.\n\nThis party did not disperse till after sunset. After an early dinner,\ndancing was again resumed; and it is worthy of remark that throughout\nthe day there was not a single instance of rudeness or indecorum on the\npart of the uninvited spectators--no attempt even to approach beyond the\nnatural rocky boundary which they had chosen for themselves--and that\nthe festivities were concluded with mutual pleasure to all the parties\nwho had participated in them. Alas! of the gay party then assembled--the\ngentle maidens in all the bloom of youthful beauty, the frank young\nsoldiers, the men of fortune, the delighted parents--of all these how\nmany now lie low! More, reader, than you could possibly imagine! Nor can\nwe avoid exclaiming again, alas that such scenes of rational pleasure, in\nwhich the higher and the humbler classes came together in healthful and\ninnocent enjoyment, are not now to be seen in our country as they were\nheretofore!\n\nBut while our memory with changeful feelings of pleasure and of pain\nfondly lingers on the brilliant scene we have attempted to sketch, we\nmust not forget that our subject requires of us a notice of festivities\nof a very different character of which Dalkey was in former times the\nscene--when Dublin and its suburbs poured forth their crowds to enjoy\nthe fun and drolleries of the crowning of Dalkey\u2019s insular king!--when\nDalkey, its Common, its Sound, and its Island, on a June day annually\nfor several years, presented a spectacle of life, gaiety, good-humour,\nand enjoyment, such perhaps as was rarely ever exhibited elsewhere.\nWhat a glorious day was this for the Dunleary, Bullock, and Dalkey\nboatmen! Generous fellows! they would take over his majesty\u2019s lieges\nto his empire for almost nothing--frequently for nothing; but, being\ndetermined enemies to absenteeism, they would not allow them to depart\non the same terms, but would mulct those with taxes _ad libitum_ who\ndesired to abandon their country. And again, what a glorious day was\nthis for the jingle-drivers of the Blackrock, the noddy-drivers, and the\ndrivers of all other sorts of hired carriages in Dublin! Has it never\noccurred to the Railroad people to revive these forgotten frolics? What\na harvest they might reap! But what do we say? The thing is impossible.\nThe mirthful temperament, the thoughtless gaiety, the wit and humour\nthat characterised the citizens in those days, are gone for ever. The\nDublinians have become a grave, thoughtful, and serious people--we had\nalmost said, a dull one. Their faces no longer wear a cheerful and happy\nlook; the very youths of our metropolis seem to be ignorant of what\nmerriment is, or at best to suppose that it consists in puffing tobacco\nsmoke!\n\nAh! very different were the notions of their predecessors, the nobility\nand gentry of his Majesty the King of Dalkey! Smoking would not at all\nhave suited their mercurial temperament: it would have been the last\nthing that they would have thought of to have had their tongues tied and\ntheir mouths contorted into ugliness in the ridiculously serious effort\nto hold a cigar between the lips, and look absurdly important! These\nfellows thought that mouths were given for a very different purpose--to\nsing the manly song, to throw forth, not clouds of tobacco smoke, but\nflashes of wit and humour; and we are inclined to think they were right.\n\nWe are not about to describe the annual ceremony of the coronation of the\nDalkey king, though we should gladly do so if we had the power, for the\nmemory of it, as an interesting illustration of the character of Irish\nsociety in days not very remote, should not be allowed to die. We have\nindeed been an eye-witness of some of these brilliant follies, but we\nwere young at the time, and our memory only retains a general impression\nof them. We can recollect that the green island figured in our woodcut,\nas well as the common, presented one mass of living beings, gaily dressed\nand arranged into groups of happy parties, each with its own musicians.\nWe can recollect also that the dress of the ladies was almost invariably\nwhite, with green silk bonnets--a costume that gave a singularly\nbrilliant effect to the scene. A large marquee was erected about the\ncentre of the island for the use of his Majesty and attendant nobles, and\na cordon was drawn around it, within which none others were permitted to\nenter. There was a military band in attendance upon the royal party; and\nwhile the noblemen and ladies of the court danced upon the sod within the\nbounds, to the music of the state minstrels, the subjects of the monarch\ndanced outside.\n\nBut these were only the evening festivities. The day was devoted to\ngraver purposes--the landing of his Majesty and nobles from the royal\nbarge under a salute of twenty-one guns, the band playing \u201cGod save\nthe King,\u201d and the assembled multitude rending the air with their\nacclamations! Then the ceremony of his coronation, and afterwards\nhis journey through his dominions, attended by his nobles! At an\nearly hour the monarch with his court proceeded in ludicrously solemn\nprocession from the palace to the church--the roofless ruin figured in\nour cut--in which the ceremony was performed with a mock gravity which\nwas, however thoughtlessly profane, still irresistibly humorous. The\nnobles, with painted faces and a profuse display of stars and ribbons,\nhad their titles and appropriate badges of office. There was the grand\nchamberlain, with his bunch of old rusty keys--the archbishop with his\npaper mitre and his natural beard of a month\u2019s growth! The very titles\nof these great personages were conferred in a spirit of drollery, and\nmade characteristic of the peculiarities of the individuals who bore\nthem. Thus there was a Lord of Ireland\u2019s-eye--a grave-looking gentleman\nwho had lost one of his visual organs; a Lord Posey--a gentleman who\nwas remarkable for his habit of carrying a bunch of flowers at his\nbreast; and so on. All the nobility were wits, orators, and generally\nfirst-rate vocalists, and the royal visitors were similarly gifted.\nCharles Incledon, the prince of ballad-singers of his time, here sang his\n\u201cBlack-eyed Susan\u201d and other charming ditties, and John Philpot Curran,\nthe greatest wit of the world, set the table in a roar with his meteor\nflashes. But the prime spirits of the court were his Majesty himself,\nStephen Armitage, his Lord High Admiral Luke Cassidy, and his archbishop\n---- Gillespy. The long coronation sermon of the latter was one of the\nrichest treats of the day, and produced effects such as sermon never\nproduced before.\n\nDuring this august and imposing ceremony, the church was not only\ncrowded to excess, and its ruined walls covered with human beings, but\nit was also surrounded with a dense mass of anxious listeners. As to his\nMajesty himself, he was at times the gravest and at times the merriest\nof monarchs, much of his humour consisting in the whimsical uncertainty\nof his movements, for there never was a crowned head more capricious\nor changeable in disposition than the King of Dalkey. He would set\nout attended by his court on a journey to some distant region of his\ndominions, change his mind in a minute and alter his route elsewhere, and\nagain change it within a few minutes; and all these mutations of purpose\nwere most loyally approved of and sympathised in by his majesty\u2019s nobles\nand subjects. Another trait in King Stephen\u2019s character was his love for\nsong; and when the word ran through his empire that at the royal banquet\nhis majesty had commenced or was about to commence his favourite \u201cLove is\nmy passion and glory,\u201d there was scarcely one of his subjects, male or\nfemale, who did not make a rush to get within earshot of him. Peace be\nwith thee, Stephen! thou wert a king \u201cof infinite jest, of most excellent\nfancy;\u201d and though thy reign was short and thy dominions small, thou\nmadest more of thy subjects truly happy than many monarchs whose reigns\nwere as much longer as their possessions were more extensive!\n\nImperfect as these recollections of the Dalkey festivities are, they will\nperhaps convey to many who have not hitherto heard of them some slight\nidea of their character; and they will, we trust, excite some surviving\nactor in them to preserve their memory in a fuller and more graphic\nrecord. They were, it will be seen, a sort of extemporaneous acted drama\nof the Tom Thumb kind, admirably preserving the unities of time and\nplace--the time being one day, and the place--his majesty\u2019s empire! As to\nthe theatre on which it was acted, it was most admirably adapted for the\nspectacle, and had the most abundant accommodation for the audience. The\nscenery too was real scenery--not painted canvass, that required distance\nto give it the effect of reality: the greensward, the blue sky and bluer\nsea, the rocky islands, the distant hills and mountains, were painted\nby the hand of the greatest of all Artists; and the theatre, instead of\nmiserable foot-lights, had its illumination from the glorious sun, the\ngreatest of all His visible works!\n\nIt may be supposed that these annual festivities must have been\nproductive of scenes of drunkenness and quarrelling, and we cannot state\nof our own knowledge whether they were so or not: but we have been\ninformed that they did not lead to such results; and the statement would\nseem true, from the fact that no accident ever occurred to any of those\nengaged in them--a singular circumstance, if we consider the dangers to\nwhich so many persons were exposed in consequence of having to cross the\nsound in crowded boats at a late hour in the evening.\n\n                                                                       P.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was not till after the preceding article had been in type that we were\ninformed that a notice of the Dalkey festivities had recently appeared\nin the preface to the first volume of the beautiful edition of the poems\nof our own national poet, Moore, just published; and as it adds some\ninteresting facts to those furnished by our own recollections, we gladly\npresent them to our readers, in the perfect confidence that they will be\nread with that intense pleasure which his writings have rarely failed to\nafford.\n\n\u201cIt was in the year 1794, or about the beginning of the next, that I\nremember having for the first time tried my hand at political satire. In\ntheir very worst times of slavery and suffering the happy disposition of\nmy countrymen had kept their cheerfulness still unbroken and buoyant;\nand at the period of which I am speaking the hope of a brighter day\ndawning upon Ireland had given to the society of the middle class in\nDublin a more than usual flow of hilarity and life. Among other gay\nresults of this festive spirit, a club or society was instituted by some\nof our most convivial citizens, one of whose objects was to burlesque,\ngood-humouredly, the forms and pomps of royalty. With this view they\nestablished a sort of mock kingdom, of which Dalkey, a small island\nnear Dublin, was made the seat; and an eminent pawnbroker named Stephen\nArmitage, much renowned for his agreeable singing, was the chosen and\npopular monarch.\n\nBefore public affairs had become too serious for such pastimes, it\nwas usual to celebrate yearly at Dalkey the day of this sovereign\u2019s\naccession; and among the gay scenes that still live in my memory, there\nare few it recalls with more freshness than this celebration on a\nfine Sunday in summer of one of these anniversaries of King Stephen\u2019s\ncoronation. The picturesque sea views of that spot, the gay crowds along\nthe shores, the innumerable boats full of life floating about, and\nabove all, the true spirit of mirth which the Irish temperament never\nfails to lend to such meetings, rendered the whole a scene not easily\nforgotten. The state ceremonies of the day were performed with all due\ngravity within the ruins of an ancient church that stands on the island,\nwhere his mock majesty bestowed the order of knighthood upon certain\nfavoured personages, and among others I recollect upon Incledon the\ncelebrated singer, who rose from under the touch of the royal sword with\nthe appropriate title of Sir Charles Melody. There was also selected\nfor the favours of the crown on that day a lady of no ordinary poetic\ntalent, Mrs Battier, who had gained much fame by some spirited satires\nin the manner of Churchill, and whose kind encouragement of my early\nattempts in versification were to me a source of much pride. This lady,\nas was officially announced in the course of the day, had been appointed\nhis Majesty\u2019s Poetess Laureate, under the style and title of Henrietta\nCountess of Laurel.\n\nThere could hardly be devised a more apt vehicle for lively political\nsatire than this gay travestie of monarchical power and its showy\nappurtenances so temptingly supplied. The very day indeed after this\ncommemoration there appeared in the usual record of Dalkey state\nintelligence, an amusing proclamation from the king, offering a large\nreward in _cronebanes_ (Irish halfpence) to the finder or finders of his\nMajesty\u2019s crown, which, owing to his \u2018having measured both sides of the\nroad\u2019 in his pedestrian progress from Dalkey on the preceding night, had\nunluckily fallen from the royal brow.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nIRISH SUPERSTITIONS--GHOSTS AND FAIRIES.\n\nBY WILLIAM CARLETON.\n\n(First Article.)\n\n\nWe have met and conversed with every possible representative of the\nvarious classes that compose general society, from the sweep to the peer,\nand we feel ourselves bound to say that in no instance have we ever met\nany individual, no matter what his class or rank in life, who was really\nindifferent to the subject of dreams, fairies, and apparitions. They are\ntopics that interest the imagination in all; and the hoary head of age is\ninclined with as much interest to a ghost-story, as the young and eager\near of youth, wrought up by all the nimble and apprehensive powers of\nearly fancy. It is true the belief in ghosts is fast disappearing, and\nthat of fairies is already almost gone; but with what new wonders they\nshall be replaced, it is difficult to say. The physical and natural we\nsuppose will give us enough of the marvellous, without having recourse\nto the spiritual and supernatural. Steam and gas, if Science advance for\nanother half century at the same rate as she has done in the last, will\ngive sufficient exercise to all our faculties for wondering. We know a\nman who travelled eighty miles to see whether or not it was a fact that\nlight could be conveyed for miles in a pipe under ground; and this man to\nour own knowledge possessed the organ of marvellousness to a surprising\ndegree. It is singular, too, that his fear of ghosts was in proportion to\nthis capacious propensity to wonder, as was his disposition when snug in\na chimney corner to talk incessantly of such topics as were calculated to\nexcite it.\n\nIn our opinion, ghosts and fairies will be seen wherever they are much\ntalked of, and a belief in their existence cultivated and nourished.\nSo long as the powers of the imagination are kept warm and active by\nexercise, they will create for themselves such images as they are in the\nhabit of conceiving or dwelling upon; and these, when the individual\nhappens to be in the appropriate position, will even by the mere force of\nassociation engender the particular Eidolon which is predominant in the\nmind. As an illustration of this I shall mention two cases of apparition\nwhich occurred in my native parish, one of which was that of a ghost, and\nthe other of the fairies. To those who have read my \u201cTraits and Stories\nof the Irish Peasantry,\u201d the first which I shall narrate may possess some\ninterest, as being that upon which I founded the tale of the \u201cMidnight\nMass.\u201d The circumstances are simply these:--\n\nThere lived a man named M\u2019Kenna at the hip of one of the mountainous\nhills which divide the county of Tyrone from that of Monaghan. This\nM\u2019Kenna had two sons, one of whom was in the habit of tracing hares of\na Sunday, whenever there happened to be a fall of snow. His father it\nseems had frequently remonstrated with him upon what he considered to\nbe a violation of the Lord\u2019s day, as well as for his general neglect of\nmass. The young man, however, though otherwise harmless and inoffensive,\nwas in this matter quite insensible to paternal reproof, and continued to\ntrace whenever the avocations of labour would allow him. It so happened\nthat upon a Christmas morning, I think in the year 1814, there was a\ndeep fall of snow, and young M\u2019Kenna, instead of going to mass, got down\nhis cock-stick--which is a staff much heavier at one end than at the\nother--and prepared to set out on his favourite amusement. His father\nseeing this, reproved him seriously, and insisted that he should attend\nprayers. His enthusiasm for the sport, however, was stronger than his\nlove of religion, for he refused to be guided by his father\u2019s advice.\nThe old man during the altercation got warm; and on finding that the son\nobstinately scorned his authority, he knelt down and prayed that if the\nboy persisted in following his own will, he might never return from\nthe mountains unless as a corpse. The imprecation, which was certainly\nas harsh as it was impious and senseless, might have startled many a\nmind from a purpose which was, to say the least of it, at variance with\nreligion and the respect due to a father. It had no effect, however, upon\nthe son, who is said to have replied, that whether he ever returned or\nnot, he was determined on going; and go accordingly he did. He was not,\nhowever, alone, for it appears that three or four of the neighbouring\nyoung men accompanied him. Whether their sport was good or otherwise, is\nnot to the purpose, neither am I able to say; but the story goes that\ntowards the latter part of the day they started a larger and darker hare\nthan any they had ever seen, and that she kept dodging on before them\nbit by bit, leading them to suppose that every succeeding cast of the\ncock-stick would bring her down. It was observed afterwards that she\nalso led them into the recesses of the mountains, and that although they\ntried to turn her course homewards, they could not succeed in doing so.\nAs evening advanced, the companions of M\u2019Kenna began to feel the folly of\npursuing her farther, and to perceive the danger of losing their way in\nthe mountains should night or a snow-storm come upon them. They therefore\nproposed to give over the chase and return home; but M\u2019Kenna would not\nhear of it. \u201cIf you wish to go home, you may,\u201d said he; \u201cas for me, I\u2019ll\nnever leave the hills till I have her with me.\u201d They begged and entreated\nhim to desist and return, but all to no purpose: he appeared to be what\nthe Scotch call _fey_--that is, to act as if he were moved by some\nimpulse that leads to death, and from the influence of which a man cannot\nwithdraw himself. At length, on finding him invincibly obstinate, they\nleft him pursuing the hare directly into the heart of the mountains, and\nreturned to their respective homes.\n\nIn the mean time, one of the most terrible snow-storms ever remembered\nin that part of the country came on, and the consequence was, that the\nself-willed young man, who had equally trampled on the sanctions of\nreligion and parental authority, was given over for lost. As soon as the\ntempest became still, the neighbours assembled in a body and proceeded\nto look for him. The snow, however, had fallen so heavily that not a\nsingle mark of a footstep could be seen. Nothing but one wide waste of\nwhite undulating hills met the eye wherever it turned, and of M\u2019Kenna no\ntrace whatever was visible or could be found. His father now remembering\nthe unnatural character of his imprecation, was nearly distracted;\nfor although the body had not yet been found, still by every one who\nwitnessed the sudden rage of the storm and who knew the mountains, escape\nor survival was felt to be impossible. Every day for about a week large\nparties were out among the hill-ranges seeking him, but to no purpose.\nAt length there came a thaw, and his body was found on a snow-wreath,\nlying in a supine posture within a circle which he had drawn around him\nwith his cock-stick. His prayer-book lay opened upon his mouth, and his\nhat was pulled down so as to cover it and his face. It is unnecessary to\nsay that the rumour of his death, and of the circumstances under which\nhe left home, created a most extraordinary sensation in the country--a\nsensation that was the greater in proportion to the uncertainty\noccasioned by his not having been found either alive or dead. Some\naffirmed that he had crossed the mountains, and was seen in Monaghan;\nothers, that he had been seen in Clones, in Emyvale, in Fivemiletown;\nbut despite of all these agreeable reports, the melancholy truth was at\nlength made clear by the appearance of the body as just stated.\n\nNow, it so happened that the house nearest the spot where he lay\nwas inhabited by a man named Daly, I think--but of the name I am\nnot certain--who was a herd or care-taker to Dr Porter, then Bishop\nof Clogher. The situation of this house was the most lonely and\ndesolate-looking that could be imagined. It was at least two miles\ndistant from any human habitation, being surrounded by one wide and\ndreary waste of dark moor. By this house lay the route of those who had\nfound the corpse, and I believe the door was borrowed for the purpose of\nconveying it home. Be this as it may, the family witnessed the melancholy\nprocession as it passed slowly through the mountains, and when the place\nand circumstances are all considered, we may admit that to ignorant and\nsuperstitious people, whose minds even under ordinary occasions were\nstrongly affected by such matters, it was a sight calculated to leave\nbehind it a deep, if not a terrible impression. Time soon proved that it\ndid so.\n\nAn incident is said to have occurred at the funeral which I have alluded\nto in the \u201cMidnight Mass,\u201d and which is certainly in fine keeping with\nthe wild spirit of the whole melancholy event. When the procession had\nadvanced to a place called Mullaghtinny, a large dark-coloured hare,\nwhich was instantly recognised, by those who had been out with him on the\nhills, as the identical one that led him to his fate, is said to have\ncrossed the road about twenty yards or so before the coffin. The story\ngoes, that a man struck it on the side with a stone, and that the blow,\nwhich would have killed any ordinary hare, not only did it no injury, but\noccasioned a sound to proceed from the body resembling the hollow one\nemitted by an empty barrel when struck.\n\nIn the meantime the interment took place, and the sensation began like\nevery other to die away in the natural progress of time, when, behold,\na report ran about like wildfire that, to use the language of the\npeople, \u201cFrank M\u2019Kenna was _appearing_!\u201d Seldom indeed was the rumour\nof an apparition composed of materials so strongly calculated to win\npopular assent or to baffle rational investigation. As every man is not\na Hibbert or a Nicolai, so will many, until such circumstances are made\nproperly intelligible, continue to yield credence to testimony which\nwould convince the judgment on any other subject. The case in question\nfurnished as fine a specimen of a true ghost-story, freed from any\nsuspicion of imposture or design, as could be submitted to a philosopher;\nand yet, notwithstanding the array of apparent facts connected with it,\nnothing in the world is simpler or of easier solution.\n\nOne night, about a fortnight after his funeral, the daughter of Daly,\nthe herd, a girl about fourteen, while lying in bed saw what appeared\nto be the likeness of M\u2019Kenna, who had been lost. She screamed out, and\ncovering her head with the bed-clothes, told her father and mother that\nFrank M\u2019Kenna was in the house. This alarming intelligence naturally\nproduced great terror; still, Daly, who notwithstanding his belief in\nsuch matters possessed a good deal of moral courage, was cool enough to\nrise and examine the house, which consisted of only one apartment. This\ngave the daughter some courage, who, on finding that her father could\nnot see him, ventured to look out, and she _then_ could see nothing of\nhim herself. She very soon fell asleep, and her father attributed what\nshe saw to fear, or some accidental combination of shadows proceeding\nfrom the furniture, for it was a clear moonlight night. The light of\nthe following day dispelled a great deal of their apprehensions, and\ncomparatively little was thought of it until evening again advanced, when\nthe fears of the daughter began to return. They appeared to be prophetic,\nfor she said when night came that she knew he would appear again; and\naccordingly at the same hour he did so. This was repeated for several\nsuccessive nights, until the girl, from the very hardihood of terror,\nbegan to become so far familiarised to the spectre as to venture to\naddress it.\n\n\u201cIn the name of God,\u201d she asked, \u201cwhat is troubling you, or why do you\nappear to me instead of to some of your own family or relations?\u201d\n\nThe ghost\u2019s answer alone might settle the question involved in the\nauthenticity of its appearance, being, as it was, an account of one of\nthe most ludicrous missions that ever a spirit was dispatched upon.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not allowed,\u201d said he, \u201cto spake to any of my friends, for I parted\nwid them in anger; but I\u2019m come to tell you that they are quarrellin\u2019\nabout my breeches--a new pair that I got made for Christmas day; an\u2019 as\nI was comin\u2019 up to thrace in the mountains, I thought the ould ones \u2019ud\ndo betther, an\u2019 of coorse I didn\u2019t put the new pair an me. My raison for\nappearin\u2019,\u201d he added, \u201cis, that you may tell my friends that none of them\nis to wear them--they must be given in charity.\u201d\n\nThis serious and solemn intimation from the ghost was duly communicated\nto the family, and it was found that the circumstances were exactly as it\nhad represented them. This of course was considered as sufficient proof\nof the truth of its mission. Their conversations now became not only\nfrequent, but quite friendly and familiar. The girl became a favourite\nwith the spectre, and the spectre on the other hand soon lost all his\nterrors in her eyes. He told her that whilst his friends were bearing\nhome his body, the handspikes or poles on which they carried him had\ncut his back, and _occasioned him great pain_! The cutting of the back\nalso was found to be true, and strengthened of course the truth and\nauthenticity of their dialogues. The whole neighbourhood was now in a\ncommotion with this story of the apparition, and persons incited by\ncuriosity began to visit the girl in order to satisfy themselves of the\ntruth of what they had heard. Every thing, however, was corroborated,\nand the child herself, without any symptoms of anxiety or terror,\nartlessly related her conversations with the spirit. Hitherto their\ninterviews had been all nocturnal, but now that the ghost found his\nfooting made good, he put a hardy face on, and ventured to appear by\ndaylight. The girl also fell into states of syncope, and while the\nfits lasted, long conversations with him upon the subject of God, the\nblessed Virgin, and Heaven, took place between them. He was certainly\nan excellent moralist, and gave the best advice. Swearing, drunkenness,\ntheft, and every evil propensity of our nature, were declaimed against\nwith a degree of spectral eloquence quite surprising. Common fame had\nnow a topic dear to her heart, and, never was a ghost made more of\nby his best friends, than she made of him. The whole country was in\na tumult, and I well remember the crowds which flocked to the lonely\nlittle cabin in the mountains, now the scene of matters so interesting\nand important. Not a single day passed in which I should think from ten\nto twenty, thirty, or fifty persons, were not present at these singular\ninterviews. Nothing else was talked of, thought of, and, as I can well\ntestify, dreamt of. I would myself have gone to Daly\u2019s were it not for\na confounded misgiving I had, that perhaps the ghost might take such a\nfancy of appearing to me, as he had taken to cultivate an intimacy with\nthe girl; and it so happens, that when I see the face of an individual\nnailed down in the coffin--chilling and gloomy operation!--I experience\nno particular wish ever to look upon it again.\n\nMany persons might imagine that the herd\u2019s daughter was acting the part\nof an impostor, by first originating and then sustaining such a delusion.\nIf any one, however, was an impostor, it was the ghost, and not the girl,\nas her ill health and wasted cheek might well testify. The appearance of\nM\u2019Kenna continued to haunt her for months. The reader is aware that he\nwas lost on Christmas day, or rather on the night of it, and I remember\nseeing her in the early part of the following summer, during which time\nshe was still the victim of a diseased imagination. Every thing in fact\nthat could be done for her was done. They brought her to a priest named\nDonnelly, who lived down at Ballynasaggart, for the purpose of getting\nher cured, as he had the reputation of performing cures of that kind.\nThey brought her also to the doctors, who also did what they could for\nher; but all to no purpose. Her fits were longer and of more frequent\noccurrence; her appetite left her; and ere four months had elapsed, she\nherself looked as like a spectre as the ghost himself could do for the\nlife of him.\n\nNow, this was a pure case of spectral illusion, and precisely similar to\nthat detailed so philosophically by Nicolai the German bookseller, and to\nothers mentioned by Hibbert. The image of M\u2019Kenna not only appeared to\nher in daylight at her own house, but subsequently followed her wherever\nshe went; and what proved this to have been the result of diseased\norganization, produced at first by a heated and excited imagination, was,\nthat, as the story went, she could see him with her eyes shut. Whilst\nthis state of mental and physical feeling lasted, she was the subject of\nthe most intense curiosity. No matter where she went, whether to chapel,\nto fair, or to market, she was followed by crowds, every one feeling\neager to get a glimpse of the girl who had actually seen, and what was\nmore, spoken to a ghost--a live ghost.\n\nNow, here was a young girl of an excitable temperament and large\nimagination, leading an almost solitary life amidst scenery of a lonely\nand desolate character, who, happening to be strongly impressed with\nan image of horror--for surely such was the body of a dead man seen\nin association with such peculiarly frightful circumstances as filial\ndisobedience and a father\u2019s curse were calculated to give it--cannot\nshake it off, but on the contrary becomes a victim to the disease which\nit generates. There is not an image which we see in a fever, or a face\nwhether of angel or devil, or an uncouth shape of any kind, that is\nnot occasioned by cerebral excitement, or derangement of the nervous\nsystem, analogous to that under which Daly\u2019s daughter laboured. I saw\nher several times, and remember clearly that her pale face, dark eye,\nand very intellectual forehead, gave indications of such a temperament\nas under her circumstances would be apt to receive strong and fearful\nimpressions from images calculated to excite terror, especially of the\nsupernatural. It only now remains for me to mention the simple method of\nher cure, which was effected without either priest or doctor. It depended\nupon a word or two of advice given to her father by a very sensible man,\nwho was in the habit of thinking on these matters somewhat above the\nsuperstitious absurdities of the people.\n\n\u201cIf you wish your daughter to be cured,\u201d said he to her father, \u201cleave\nthe house you are now living in. Take her to some part of the country\nwhere she can have companions of her own class and state of life to\nmingle with; bring her away from the place altogether; for you may rest\nassured that so long as there are objects before her eyes to remind her\nof what happened, she will not mend on your hands.\u201d\n\nThe father, although he sat rent free, took this excellent advice, even\nat a sacrifice of some comfort: for nothing short of the temptation of\neasy circumstances could have induced any man to reside in so wild and\nremote a solitude. In the course of a few days he removed from it with\nhis family, and came to reside amidst the cheerful aspect and enlivening\nintercourse of human life. The consequences were precisely as the man\nhad told him. In the course of a few weeks the little girl began to find\nthat the visits of the spectre were like those of angels, few and far\nbetween. She was sent to school, and what with the confidence derived\nfrom human society, and the substitution of new objects and images, she\nsoon perfectly recovered, and ere long was thoroughly set free from the\nfearful creation of her own brain.\n\nNow, there is scarcely one of the people in my native parish who does\nnot believe that the spirit of this man came back to the world, and\nactually appeared to this little girl. The time, however, is fast coming\nwhen these empty bugbears will altogether disappear, and we shall\nentertain more reverend and becoming notions of God than to suppose such\nsenseless pranks could be played by the soul of a departed being under\nhis permission. We might as well assert that the imaginary beings which\nsurround the couch of the madman or hypochondriac have a real existence,\nas those that are conjured up by terror, weak nerves, or impure blood.\n\nThe spot where the body of M\u2019Kenna was found is now marked by a little\nheap of stones, which has been collected since the melancholy event of\nhis death. Every person who passes it throws a stone upon the heap; but\nwhy this old custom is practised, or what it means, I do not know, unless\nit be simply to mark the spot as a visible means of preserving the memory\nof the occurrence.\n\nDaly\u2019s house, the scene of the supposed apparition, is now a shapeless\nruin, which could scarcely be seen were it not for the green spot that\nwas once a garden, and which now shines at a distance like an emerald,\nbut with no agreeable or pleasing associations. It is a spot which no\nsolitary schoolboy will ever visit, nor indeed would the unflinching\nbeliever in the popular nonsense of ghosts wish to pass it without a\ncompanion. It is under any circumstances a gloomy and barren place, but\nwhen looked upon in connection with what we have just recited, it is\nlonely, desolate, and awful.\n\n\n\n\nUn Ghrain\u0304eog.--(THE HEDGEHOG.)\n\n\nSome twenty years ago it was not unusual in the south of Ireland to\nsee boys assembled about a fire of straw, loudly exulting over a\nflame-surrounded victim, whose attempts to escape, rendered nugatory\nby a timid retraction as it were into himself, served but to call\nforth louder shouts of triumph from his persecutors, who thought they\njustified their savage deed by proclaiming its hapless object as a\nwitch, a robber of orchards, and a sucker of cows. Leaving to our\nantiquarian friends to discover whether the cruel act in question was\nnot a holocaust originating in the mystic rites of Pagan times, it is\nfor us to vindicate the wronged, and show the absurdity of the charges\nby which wrong has been maintained, and at the same time to indicate\nsuch matter as may serve to direct kindness to that innocent victim of\nignorance, the inoffensive Hedgehog. That it is not a witch according to\nthe old law, may be proved in a court of justice spite of the popular\nopinion and in defiance of the authority of Shakspeare, whose witches\nin Macbeth are warned that the proper time had come to commence their\ninfernal incantations by \u201cthrice and once the hedge-pig whined.\u201d We have\nno witness that a hedgehog ever rode a broomstick or vomited knives,\nskewers, coals of fire, or any such like legal proofs of witchcraft;\nneither, perhaps you exclaim, is the writer of so much nonsense a\nwitch. True it is that the creature so named has its place nowhere in\nthe classification of a zoologist, yet still an undefined idea of its\nexistence floats in the imagination of the most ignorant, and it is not\n_extraordinary_ that an opinion once universal should still linger in\nunenlightened minds. In no way do we consider superstitious prejudices\ncan better be extinguished than by inducing accuracy of observation of\nnatural phenomena, which shows that nothing supernatural exists. The\nsecond charge, that the hedgehog is a robber of orchards, is a very old\none. Pliny, as translated by Holland, states--\u201cHedgehogs make their\nprovision beforehand of meat for winter in this wise: they wallow and\nroll themselves upon apples and such fruit lying under foot, and so catch\nthem up with their prickles, and one more besides they take in their\nmouth, and so carry them into hollow trees.\u201d\n\nNow, this has no foundation in fact. True it is that the hedgehog is\nvery often found in the neighbourhood of orchards; but then this may be\naccounted for by the fact that the fences of such places are usually of\nexactly the thick and unfrequented kind the animal best likes to inhabit.\nOur repeated experience has never enabled us to discover that a hedgehog\nwill eat apples; on the contrary, in early youth, when imbued with the\ngeneral belief that this fruit was their diet, we have in more than\none or two instances (most cruelly as we now believe) starved to death\nunfortunate specimens, which we shut up in a box with an ample supply\nof apples, not one of which they ever ate. That a magpie will steal and\nhide silver spoons, or a raven silk stockings, we know, and may use it\nas an argument that animals steal what they do not want; but that a\nhedgehog steals apples in the way stated, experiment will at once prove\nto be untrue, for, from the varied position of the points of the spines\nwhen fixed, it is impossible to fasten an apple upon them; and when they\nare not fixed, they yield at once to the pressure made in the attempt.\nThough domesticated hedgehogs can easily be brought to feed on bread\nand milk or dressed vegetables, yet all our observation goes to prove\nthat in a state of nature, or when permitted to stray in a garden, they\nnever eat any but animal food. This is at variance with the generally\nreceived opinion, which is supported by the authority of White, who, in\nhis admirable History of Selborne, complains that hedgehogs injured his\ngarden by boring with their long snouts under the plantain that grew\nin his grass walks, eating off the root upwards, leaving the tufts of\nleaves untouched, and defacing his grounds by making unsightly holes.\nHe then immediately goes on to prove that these identical animals used\nbeetles as no inconsiderable portion of their food. Now, it strikes us\nthat his previous observation was not made with his usual accuracy, and\nthat the hedgehogs did not eat the roots of plantain, but dug up where\nthey had been to catch the larv\u00e6 of beetles that had just devoured\nthem. Thus rooks have been charged with wantonly plucking up grass,\nwhile the truth is, that they only pull up plants attacked at the root\nby the larv\u00e6 of the cockchaffer or some other of the _Phytophagous\ncoleoptera_ (as vegetable-eating beetles are called), catch in the fact\nthe destructive insect, and so stop its ravages; thus rendering important\nservices to those who, for lack of accurate observation, falsely accuse\nand mischievously shoot them. Trusting we have satisfied you that the\nhedgehog does not steal apples, we come to the next charge, that he\nsucks cows. To refute this we have the best possible evidence in the\nanimal\u2019s mouth, the structure of which is completely unsuited to the\naccomplishment of such an object. That he will drink milk with avidity\nwhen domesticated, is certain, but this is only a taste he acquires in\ncommon with hundreds of other animals: there is scarcely one that may\nnot be induced to relish such diet. Having thus cleared our hero (a name\nhe fully deserves, as he wins battles by passive resistance) from the\ncharges brought against him, we proceed to give some anecdotes of our\npersonal knowledge, and shall finish with a few interesting facts in\nhis history, for the information of those who take pleasure in accurate\nacquaintance with nature\u2019s works.\n\nWe have before mentioned our starving of hedgehogs by endeavouring\nto make them eat apples. In one of these cases we suffered no small\nretribution. We were at school in these days, and a practice existed\namongst us called \u201cslating.\u201d It was an innocent imitation of the\nmurderous attacks made in Dublin by short-sighted combinators on such of\ntheir fellow tradesmen as refused obedience to their mischievous laws.\nWith us it consisted in waylaying each other in the dark passages, and\nstriking with the open palms the hats or caps of the surprised over the\neyes. Having been thus treated many times, we bethought ourselves of\nturning our starved hedgehog to account, and proceeded to skin him with\nthe intent of making a cap; so that when again \u201cslated,\u201d the attacking\nparty would find reason to call out in the words of Chaucer,\n\n    \u201cLike sharpe urchins his hair was growe.\u201d\n\nAccordingly, having hanged the animal up against a tree, we were\nessaying, by pulling, to effect a solution of continuity, as a surgeon\nwould call it, between his body and skin, when the nail gave way, and\nhe came down with considerable force on our forehead, accupuncturating\nus most awfully. The pain at the time was very great, and considerable\nsoreness continued for several days, so much so that we were induced\nto suspect that some poisonous virus existed. We introduce this story\nfor the purpose of calling attention to the effects of the spines when\nbrought into action. Though experience induces us to believe that their\npunctures are more painful than those of pins and needles, we have not\nbeen able to ascertain why they should be so. Disabled in our attempt, we\nabandoned the skin, and it became common property. It was for some time\nused as one of the instruments for initiating the Johnny Newcomes into\nthe mysteries of school life. Not a few will recollect how, when chilled\nby a previous salting or seasoning, as we called it, of snow crammed\ninto the mouth, eyes, nose, and down the back, their sense of vitality\nwas aroused, when escaping to bed they threw themselves on its thorny\npre-occupant. Many, doubtless, then heartily wished themselves again\nwithin the zone of mamma\u2019s apron-string; but the affair usually ended by\nstoring up vengeance for, and the implement for executing it on, the next\ncomer. A few years afterwards we procured another hedgehog, and provided\nhim with earthworms, which he munged with great gusto. We mixed a few of\nthem with bread and milk, and thus initiated him into this new diet. We\ntried him with frogs, mice, sparrows, and various other animal matters,\nof all of which he partook freely, and he soon became quite domesticated.\nWe provided him a bed made in an old footstool in the kitchen; in this he\nremained during daylight rolled up in a ball of hay, from which it was\nquite a troublesome matter to extricate him; he could not be disentangled\nfrom it at all, without picking it carefully from his spines. Yet when\nhe pleased himself to move, he came forth quite free, and did not drag\na single filament out with him. He soon acquired a habit of making his\nappearance when tea was being served; the hissing of the water in the urn\nseemed to be his signal that his only meal was ready, for he regularly\nfollowed the servant who bore it into the tea-room, where he was indulged\nwith a saucer of bread and milk on the rug before the fire. Having eaten\nas much as he desired, he commenced trotting about the room, taking\nprecisely the same course round the legs of chairs and tables each time;\nand so he continued without a moment\u2019s cessation to the latest hour\nthe household remained up. Like the Guinea-pig, he seemed to have the\ngreatest dislike to running across the room. In the morning he was always\nfound snug in his bed. At length he disappeared, but previously did good\nservice by devouring the cockroaches and beetles which infested the\nhouse. The desire of the hedgehog to pursue a beaten track was further\nevidenced by one we kept in a garden, which continued for months the\ncourse he first took, though a portion of it consisted in climbing with\ndifficulty over some tiles, which a few inches on either side would have\navoided. We often put things in his path, and watched his proceedings: he\nshrunk at first on finding the obstruction, and then tumbled over it in\nthe best way he could.\n\nAgain we got another, and having heard that he may be at once tamed\nby indulging him in whisky, we mixed some in a saucer with sugar, and\ndipping his nose into it, he licked his chops, then ventured to make a\nlap at the enticing material, and, \u201cstartled at the sound himself had\nmade,\u201d he shrunk in, but came out again presently and lapped away most\neagerly. The spirit soon showed its power, and like other beasts that\nindulge in it, he was any thing but himself; and his lacklustre leaden\neye was rendered still less pleasing by its inane drunken expression.\nHe staggered towards us in a ridiculously get-out-of-my-way sort of\nmanner; however, he had not gone far before his potation produced all its\neffects; he tottered, then fell on his side; he was drunk in the full\nsense of the word; he could not even hold by the ground. We could then\npull him about by the feet, open his mouth, twitch his whiskers, &c.:\nhe was unresisting. There was a strange expression in his face of that\nself-confidence which we see in cowards when inspired by drinking. We put\nhim away, and some twelve hours afterwards found him running about, and,\nas was predicted, quite tame, his spines lying so smoothly and regularly\nthat he could be stroked down the back, and handled freely. We turned him\ninto the kitchen to kill the cockroaches, and know nothing further of\nhim.\n\nHaving given you so much of his manners, let us turn to his structural\npeculiarities. He is a small animal, not much larger than a rat when\nstripped of his spines and the muscular apparatus connected with them.\nIt is this that enables him to roll himself up so as to present a\n_chevaux-de-frize_-like defence, impregnable to all ordinary enemies;\nand as there is much singularity in it, we will endeavour to describe\nit. On the back of the animal, between the skin and ribs, there is a\nlarge oval muscle with thickened edges, partially attached to the skin\nand spines. From this spring certain muscular bands, which are fixed\nfirmly at the other ends to the head, tail, breast, and other parts of\nthe body. The whole may be likened to a sort of elastic mantle, kept on\nthe back by straps. When the owner wishes to roll up, he bends his body,\nthen tightening the straps, he pulls the edge of the elastic mantle\nover, which contracting, draws it in as if it were a running string in\na bag; at the same time the spines are fixed rigidly for defence by\nthe straining of the muscles. There are many other interesting points\nin his anatomy. He possesses, as we do, well developed clavicles or\ncollar-bones, which only exist in a rudimentary form in many quadrupeds.\nThe peculiarities of his structure have exposed him to much, we will\nnot say wanton cruelty, as its object was the increase of knowledge;\nit therefore should not be heavily censured, while so many unmeaning\nbarbarities exist under the name of sports. It is stated as a proof of\nhis endurance, that he has died without a groan under the slow process of\nzootomy inflicted upon him while nailed to a table. Such practices are\nseldom if ever engaged in at the present time.\n\nThe hedgehog is certainly a very apathetic creature, and at a low\ntemperature becomes torpid; when in this condition he is doubtless\ndevoid of feeling. Torpidity in many animals seems to stand in the place\nof migration in others, as a necessary condition when provision of\nfood depends on season: in this case the fact seems to argue in favour\nof our position--that the hedgehog is in a state of nature strictly\ninsectivorous; were it not so, torpidity would not seem necessary, as\nroots of vegetables could be had with facility as well at one season as\nthe other. The hedgehog while torpid loses weight rather rapidly, so that\nthe power of its remaining in this state is limited perhaps to a very few\nmonths.\n\nThe French academicians maintained long since that there were two species\nof hedgehog in their country. In reference to this, Ray, with his usual\nsagacity, after describing the common species, expresses a disbelief of\nthere being another in Europe; a doubt since fully confirmed: for the\ndog and hog urchin, as the supposed species were called, have no more\nexistence than the dog and hog badgers of our sportsmen have as distinct\nanimals. Old authors notice several species under the name of hedgehog;\nbut it appears by more accurate observation that but two of the animals\nmentioned by them are entitled to this name, viz. the one in question and\nthe long-eared urchin of Siberia.\n\nSince 1832, at least three other species have been enrolled in the\nrecords of science. It is said that when hedgehogs are born, their ears\nas well as their eyes are closed, and the former circumstance is noticed\nas a unique fact; however, another instance of imperforate ears occurred\nto us, in the case of a black bear cubbed at the gardens of the Royal\nZoological Society of Ireland: it lived but a few hours. The ear of the\nhedgehog, in the structure of its bony parts, presents some peculiarities\nstrikingly different from most other quadrupeds.\n\nThe hedgehog is said to feed occasionally on cantharides; a single beetle\nof which would occasion death or serious injury to most animals. If this\nbe true, it is only another example of what often occurs in nature,\nillustrating the old proverb \u201cwhat is one\u2019s meat is another\u2019s poison.\u201d\nIn addition to the use of the hedgehog as the destroyer of cockroaches,\nhis skin was an important monopoly in the time of the Romans, being used\nboth as a clothes-brush and an instrument for hackling hemp. His calcined\neyes formed part of an ointment which the ancients tell us had such a\nwonderful efficacy as to enable persons using it to see in the dark. His\ngall was used to take off hair, his fat to put it on, &c.\n\nHe is still eaten in the south of Europe; but, judging from his food and\nappearance, we would not recommend the practice here. The hedgehog, or\nurchin, as he is sometimes called, belongs to the order of Insectivora,\nand possesses much of the character and habits of shrews. His scientific\nname is Erinaceus Europ\u00e6us; but we have headed this article with his\nIrish appellation, which is perhaps the only one not inserted in our\npopular authors.\n\n                                                                       B.\n\n\n\n\nWATERPROOFING OF CLOTH, SILK, &c.\n\nTO THE EDITOR OF THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL.\n\n\nSIR--I would feel happy should the few remarks I will at present offer\nbe found worthy of insertion in your columns--it is on the subject of\nwaterproofing cloth, or other fabrics, cotton, silk, leather, &c.\n\nWhen the matter first came before the public, being determined if\npossible to ascertain the secret, after many unsuccessful experiments I\nfound all the requisite properties to consist in a concentrated solution\nof acetate of alumina, which can be procured at a cheap and a moderate\nrate, by mixing equal quantities of sulphate of alum (common alum) and\nacetate of lead (sugar of lead), and dissolving them in water: one pound\nof each may be purchased for one shilling, which may be dissolved in\none gallon and a half of boiling water, and well mixed; when cold, the\nsupernatant liquid should be removed from the sediment, which consists of\nsulphates of lead, potash, &c. Any article of dress, no matter how slight\nthe fabric, if well saturated in it, and allowed to dry slowly, will\nbear the action of boiling water, and not permit it to pass through: it\nis a remarkable fact, and there are many others connected with the same\nsolution well worthy of investigation. I should be glad if some of your\nlearned correspondents would favour us with the reason why the boiling\nwater will not pass through, and the steam of the water will. Thinking it\na subject not totally unworthy of examination, I remain, Sir, your most\nobedient servant,\n\n                                                THOMAS IRWIN,\n                                     Apothecary and Chemist, 48 Cuffe St.\n\n\n\n\nA SCENE AT SEA.\n\n\n    \u201cI saw the ship go dancing on before the favouring gale,\n    And like the pinions of a swan was spread each swelling sail;\n    But ere again uprose the sun, rose many a shriek and wail;\n    Ere morn the gallant ship was gone--vanished the snowy sail!\u201d\n\n        The ship rode far upon the silent main; \u2019twas night,\n        A beautiful, still night; no moon was there,\n        But the bright stars were hanging overhead\n        In golden clusters; and the breathless sea\n        Gave them all back; while the tall vessel seemed\n        A fairy home, suspended \u2019twixt two heavens.\n        And there were happy hearts within her then;\n        That eve they had descried the distant shore\n        Of their own land; and all had gone to rest\n        In the dear hope that ere another day\n        Their feet would press again their native soil;\n        Then the rich merchant dreamed how his gay stores\n        Would well reward his exile; and the youth\n        Thought of his loved one, and in fancy touch\u2019d\n        Already her rose-lips; while the fond sire\n        Dreamed of his wife and children, and his hearth\n        With their bright faces gathered round, like stars,\n        To hearken to the marvels of his voyage.\n\n        \u2026\n\n        There is a stillness over sea and heaven--\n        A placid calm, a holy peace; alas!\n        Whence is that sudden cry--that rising flame\n        That bursts from the fair vessel? \u2019Tis no fire\n        Of heaven, no angry lightning, that hath struck\n        And blasted it! A moment, and the scene\n        That was so fair is changed; the heavens above\n        And still as ever; but the death-fire glows\n        Upon the burnished waters! Groans and prayers\n        Rise up all vainly! There\u2019s a sudden shriek,\n        Like to an earthquake; and the hopes and fears\n        Of many hearts, the vessel and its freight,\n        Are vanished--scattered into nameless things,\n        And all is swallowed up and lost!\n\n                                            --_From the Knickerbocker._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTRUE CHARITY.--The lowest order of charity is that which is satisfied\nwith relieving the immediate pressure of distress in individual cases.\nA higher is, that which makes provision on a large scale for the relief\nof such distress; as when a nation passes on from common almsgiving to\na general provision for the destitute. A higher still is, when such\nprovision is made in the way of anticipation, or for distant objects; as\nwhen the civilization of savages, the freeing of slaves, the treatment\nof the insane, or the education of the blind and deaf and mutes, is\nundertaken. The highest charity of all is, that which aims at the\nprevention rather than the alleviation of evil. It is a nobler charity to\nprevent destitution, crime, and ignorance, than to relieve individuals\nwho never ought to have been made destitute, criminal, and ignorant.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nEMPLOYMENT FOR THE UNHAPPY.--The unhappy are indisposed to employment:\nall active occupations are wearisome and disgusting in prospect, at a\ntime when every thing, life itself, is full of weariness and disgust.\nYet the unhappy must be employed, or they will go mad. Comparatively\nblessed are they, if they are set in families, where claims and duties\nabound, and cannot be escaped. In the pressure of business there is\npresent safety and ultimate relief. Harder is the lot of those who have\nfew necessary occupations, enforced by other claims than their own\nharmlessness and profitableness. Reading often fails. Now and then it\nmay beguile; but much oftener the attention is languid, the thoughts\nwander, and associations with the subject of grief are awakened. Women\nwho find that reading will not do, will obtain no relief from sewing.\nSewing is pleasant enough in moderation to those whose minds are at\nease the while; but it is an employment which is trying to the nerves\nwhen long continued, at the best; and nothing can be worse for the\nharassed, and for those who want to escape from themselves. Writing is\nbad. The pen hangs idly suspended over the paper, or the sad thoughts\nthat are alive within write themselves down. The safest and best of all\noccupations for such sufferers as are fit for it, is intercourse with\nyoung children. An infant might have beguiled Satan and his peers the\nday after they were couched on the lake of fire, if the love of children\nhad chanced to linger amidst the ruins of their angelic nature. Next to\nthis comes honest, genuine acquaintanceship among the poor; not mere\ncharity-visiting, grounded on soup-tickets and blankets, but intercourse\nof mind, with real mutual interest between the parties. Gardening is\nexcellent, because it unites bodily exertion with a sufficient engagement\nof the faculties, while sweet, compassionate nature is ministering cure\nin every sprouting leaf and scented blossom, and beckoning sleep to draw\nnigh, and be ready to follow up her benignant work. Walking is good,\nnot stepping from shop to shop, or from neighbour to neighbour, but\nstretching out far into the country, to the freshest fields, and the\nhighest ridges, and the quietest lanes. However sullen the imagination\nmay have been among its griefs at home, here it cheers up and smiles.\nHowever listless the limbs may have been when sustaining a too heavy\nheart, here they are braced, and the lagging gait becomes buoyant again.\nHowever perverse the memory may have been in presenting all that was\nagonizing, and insisting only on what cannot be retrieved, here it is\nfirst disregarded, and then it sleeps; and the sleep of the memory is\nthe day in Paradise to the unhappy. The mere breathing of the cool wind\non the face in the commonest highway is rest and comfort which must be\nfelt at such times to be believed. It is disbelieved in the shortest\nintervals between the seasons of enjoyment; and every time the sufferer\nhas resolution to go forth to meet it, it penetrates to the very heart in\nglad surprise. The fields are better still: for there is the lark to fill\nup the hours with mirthful music; or, at worst, the robin and the flocks\nof fieldfares, to show that the hardest day has its life and hilarity.\nBut the calmest region is the upland, where human life is spread out\nbeneath the bodily eye, where the mind roves from the peasant\u2019s nest\nto the spiry town, from the schoolhouse to the churchyard, from the\ndiminished team in the patch of fallow, or the fisherman\u2019s boat in the\ncove, to the viaduct that spans the valley, or the fleet that glides\nghostlike on the horizon. This is the perch where the spirit plumes its\nruffled and drooping wings, and makes ready to let itself down any wind\nthat heaven may send.--_From Deerbrook, a Tale, by Harriet Martineau._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCHILDHOOD.--Childhood is like a mirror, catching and reflecting images\nfrom all around it. Remember that an impious or profane thought, uttered\nby a parent\u2019s lips, may operate on the young heart like a careless spray\nof water thrown upon polished steel, staining it with rust which no after\nscouring can efface.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Printed and published every Saturday by GUNN and CAMERON, at\n    the Office of the General Advertiser, No. 6, Church Lane,\n    College Green, Dublin.--Agents:--R. GROOMBRIDGE, Panyer Alley,\n    Paternoster Row, London; SIMMS and DINHAM, Exchange Street,\n    Manchester; C. DAVIES, North John Street, Liverpool; J. DRAKE,\n    Birmingham; SLOCOMBE & SIMMS, Leeds; FRAZER and CRAWFORD,\n    George Street, Edinburgh; and DAVID ROBERTSON, Trongate,\n    Glasgow.","title":"The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 21, November 21, 1840","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":12130}