Clarsech and Cruit were both names which the Irish gave their harp, from the musical board and the warbling of the strings respectively. But the favourite designation was that of Orphean, an evident derivation from Orpheus, the divine musician of the ancients, who is said to have stayed the course of rivers, and lulled the listening woods,--to have moved the stones into prescribed positions, and tamed the savage propensities of man--all by the instrumentality of his speaking lyre! “As regards Orpheus himself,” says the learned Barker, “he is stated by some ancient authorities to have abstained from eating of flesh, and to have had an abhorrence of eggs, considered as food, from a persuasion that the egg was the principle of all being. Many other accounts are given of him, which would seem to assimilate his character to that of the ancient priests of India, or Brachmani. The ancients, however, unable to discover any mode by which he could have obtained his knowledge from any other source, pretended that he had visited Egypt, and had there been initiated in the mysteries of Isis and Osiris. This appears, however, to be a supposition purely gratuitous on the part of the ancient writers, since a careful examination of the subject leads directly to the belief that Orpheus was of Indian origin; that he was a member of one of those _Sacerdotal Colonies, which professed the religion of Buddha_; and who being driven from their home, in the northern parts of India, and in the plains of Tartary, by the power of the rival sect of Brahma, moved gradually onwards to the west, dispensing, in their progress, the benefits of civilisation and the _mysterious tenets of their peculiar faith_.” We know little or nothing at this remote day of the ancient music of the Bardic order; that it was eminent, however, and transcendently superior to that of all other countries, is evident from the fact of its having maintained its character when all our other attributes had notoriously vanished. Caradoc admits that his countrymen, the Welsh, borrowed all their instruments, tunes, airs, and measures, from our favoured island. Carr additionally says, that “although the Welsh have been for ages celebrated for the boldness and sweetness of their music, yet it appears that they were much indebted to the superior musical talents of their neighbours, the Irish.” Selden asserts “that the Welsh music, for the most part, came out of Ireland with Gruffydh ap Tenan, Prince of North Wales, who was cotemporary with King Stephen.” I know not whether our brethren of Scotland will be so ready to acknowledge the loan. But if anyone will compare the spirit of their music with that which pervades the melodies of our country, the identity will be as obvious as the inference is irresistible.