'Twas at Teddy O'Rafferty's wake, Just to comfort ould Judy, his wife, The lads of the hod had a frake. And kept the thing up to the life. There was Father O'Donahoo, Mr. Delany, Pat Murphy the doctor, that rebel O'Shaney, Young Terence, a nate little knight o' the hod, And that great dust O'Sullivan just out o' quod; Then Florence the piper, no music is riper, To all the sweet cratures with emerald fatures Who came to drink health to the dead. Not Bryan Baroo had a louder shaloo When he gave up his breath, to that tythe hunter death, Than the howl over Teddy's cowld head: 'Twas enough to have rais'd up a saint. All the darlings with whiskey so faint, And the lads full of fight, had a glorious night, When ould Teddy was wak'd in his shed. --Original. He who has not travelled in Ireland should never presume to offer an opinion upon its natives. It is not from the wealthy absentees, who since the union have abandoned their countrymen to wretchedness, for the advancement of their own ambitious views, that we can form a judgment of the exalted Irish: nor is it from the lowly race, who driven forth by starving penury, crowd our more prosperous shores, ~23~~that we can justly estimate the true character of the peasantry of that unhappy country. The Memoirs of Captain Rock may have done something towards removing the national prejudices of Englishmen; while the frequent and continued agitation of that important question, the Emancipation of the Catholics, has roused a spirit of inquiry in every worthy bosom that will much advantage the oppressed, and, eventually, diffuse a more general and generous feeling towards the Irish throughout civilized Europe. I have been led into this strain of contemplation, by observing the ridiculous folly and wasteful expenditure of the nobility and fashionables of Great Britain; who, neglecting their starving tenantry and kindred friends, crowd to the shores of France and Italy in search of scenery and variety, without having the slightest knowledge of the romantic beauties and delightful landscapes, which abound in the three kingdoms of the Rose, the Shamrock, and the Thistle. How much good might be done by the examples of a few illustrious, noble, and wealthy individuals, making annual visits to Ireland and Scotland! what a field does it afford for true enjoyment! how superior, in most instances, the accommodations and security; and how little, if at all inferior, to the scenic attractions of foreign countries. Then too the gratification of observing the progress of improvement in the lower classes, of administering to their wants, and consoling with them under their patient sufferings from oppressive laws, rendered perhaps painfully necessary by the political temperature of the times or the unforgiving suspicions of the past.