unsophisticated, simple character, that suffices to itself, and requires no other source of happiness than the indwelling gladness of a sunshiny mind. What a variety of colours!-yellow, purple, rich carnation, and deep glowing crimson of every shade and tint ; each separate cluster looking like a large bright family of the same lovely and many-coloured race.

Here and there were tufts of pale, meek, quietlooking primroses, and all along the top of the bank, under the laurel hedge, violets; not modestly hidden, as beseems that bashful tribe, but peeping up their little blue heads in myriads among the green leaves, as though they could not resist the temptation of basking in the sunshine, and looking out at all the beautiful and fragrant things around.

A soft breeze was playing among the shrubs and flowers, waking a thousand scents, and stirring the whispering leaves. The birds were singing, and with their clear notes came mingling the musical chime of the convent bell, summoning the nuns to mid-day prayers. Before us, as we walked along, a magnificent butterfly flew out of a little thicket of myrtles, and alit on the path almost at our feet, balancing its wings as though to allow us to admire their gorgeous scarlet and azure, spotted with brown and dazzling white; then rising gracefully, it fluttered away high over our heads, glancing in the sunbeam

'Like flying gem, or winged flower.'

As I followed it with my eyes, what a gush of bright and hopeful feeling came across me! I thought of the darksome, tomb-like chrysalis from which Almighty power had brought that glorious creature.

What a type of the narrow graves in which are laid the beloved forms that no more can bless these longing eyes! And they too shall rise; those natural bodies sown in dishonour, in weakness, shall rise spiritual, in glory and power, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump. Surpassing mystery! yet actually realized and fulfilled in the bright creature before me: demanding a no more wonderful exertion of Divine power than that which transformed the creeping caterpillar into the airy, glittering insect hovering from flower to flower.

When we left the garden we proceeded along the pebbly' shore, close by the river's brink. Long rays of light lay on the surface of the water, whose deep azure rivalled the blue skies above. We stopped in a place where two little projecting headlands formed a fairy bay, to admire the beauty of the prospect; the sparkling river and gliding boats-the opposite shore, with its green lawns and slopes bathed in brilliant sunshine-the distant hill, misty and grey, and covered with a silvery haze, fading gradually away into shadowy indistinctness.

The tide was coming in, and the little waves came rippling over the stones with a gentle plashing sound, that had a most soothing effect. Two or three white sea-gulls were floating down with the current in luxurious drowsiness, and high over our heads was another, balancing itself as it were with motionless and outspread wings on the buoyant air. The breeze, though scarcely strong enough to crisp the surface of the river, brought with it a delightfully fresh briny smell, and altogether the scene was one of great peacefulness and beauty.

While we were standing there enjoying it, the re

pose was broken suddenly by sounds that ill accorded with the sunshine and gladness around. The melancholy cadence of the death-wail rose on the quiet air, and presently, advancing from behind a jutting headland, appeared a funeral procession on the water! Long as I have been used to the sights and sounds of this shining river,' I never remember to have seen a similar spectacle before. There was something

very peculiar and touching about it. The boats, which were ten in number, were crowded with peasants, and were all attached together by long ropes, which kept them in line, and maintained an equal distance between each. The first boat carried a flag, and in the second was the coffin, surrounded by the relatives of the deceased, chiefly women, whose mantles of dark blue or scarlet, white caps, and coloured kerchiefs, had a truly picturesque effect.

There is something very affecting in the Irish funeral cry. Many denounce it as a remnant of barbarism, and rejoice that the practice is now fast disappearing; but I own I could never agree with them. The mournful cadence rising and falling amongst the hills, as the humble procession approaches a country churchyard, has so wild and pathetic a sound. The plaintive cry of the women, and that most heartrending of all sounds, the deep-toned voice of man uplifted in lamentation. Then the solemn silence, when the coffin is laid down before the church doorthe sudden hush falling in a moment over the whole concourse of people-every knee bent in prayerevery lip moving in fervent supplication—the uncovered heads of the men-the grey locks of age floating in the breeze.

But never, in the loneliest churchyard, had the

funeral wail so striking, and to my mind melancholy, a tone as now, when it rose from the water, mingled with the slow, measured, monotonous stroke of the oars. We watched the dark train of boats as they moved onwards, following the windings of the river, until at length the foremost, that bearing the flag, turned in towards the shore. The others followed, and soon we saw the people in them land, and proceed with their sad burthen up the rugged ascent, where they disappeared among the trees.

The funeral procession had hardly glided away, leaving behind no track in the yielding waters, when a huge steamer, all noise, bustle, and activity, came brushing by, splashing through the waves at a rapid rate, tossing right and left from her wheels the foaming spray. Volumes of dark smoke and snow-white steam were pouring from her chimney, sailors running fore and aft on her busy deck, crowds of passengers grouped together or pacing backwards and forwards, pigs shrieking (for the cargo was chiefly live stock), the captain mounted on the paddle-box thundering his orders through a speaking-trumpetall was hurry and bustling confusion. Meantime the cheery notes of a horn came sounding over the water from the opposite side: a mail-coach, with the body gaily painted red, and drawn by four grey horses, was dashing along full gallop on the Glanmire road, its course marked by clouds of dust.

Strong contrasts, these signs of active, stirring life, with the slow-moving funeral cortège that had just passed on its mournful way. Life and death brought into juxta-position: the former all heedless, perhaps, of the awful warning.

We had some fine dogs with us, who were bound

ing about the shore in the wildest glee, and barking with delight as they plunged into the water after the sticks and stones thrown in for them. Another step from where we stood, and we turned shuddering away from the ghastly and grinning skeleton of a poor animal that had been washed up by the tide. 'Alas!' thought I, how often is our insensibility like that of our canine companions, who are gambolling thus on the very spot where the wretched spectacle of their drowned fellow is lying! We see our neighbour suddenly cut down; he goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets the silver cord is loosed, the golden bowl is broken; the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit unto God who gave it; and yet we continue senselessly engrossed in our vanity of vanities, in the ardent pursuit after the toys and trifles of this fleeting world!'

As we pursued our walk, we were accosted by a wretched old woman, the sight of whom set me moralizing again. As I gazed on her tall emaciated figure, her sunken pallid features, her face a net-work of wrinkles, across which a few straggling grey hairs had made their way from beneath her torn cap: all I had been told of her history came into my mind. How often I had heard her described as a creature of surpassing loveliness!-how vividly present above all was the description of that day when they went to her cottage, and told her that her only boy had fallen from the castle slip into the river: her frantic despair as she rushed down the hill, tearing out in handfuls the long glossy hair that floated dishevelled. round her graceful form, uttering such piercing shrieks, wringing her hands, and looking withal so beautiful in her agony !