expected scene of the tenderest beauty continually steals upon you in the midst of wild and stern surroundings. "The deepest and most enduring impression of Kerry," writes a distinguished visitor, "is of beauty unspeakably tender, which puts on at times a garb of grandeur and a look of awe, only in order to heighten by passing contrast the sense of soft insinuating loveliness."

That we do not from national partiality exaggerate the wonderful colouring of Irish scenery might be proved from the testimony of many a stranger within our gates. Thackeray, passing on the Clifden car through one of the most wild and beautiful districts that it was ever the fortune of the tourist to examine,' lays down his pen, in despair of being able to set before the mind's eye of the reader the variety of tint, of light and shade which the clouds as they passed, or the sunshine as it went and came, cast over the wild mountains of Connemara. Mr. Alfred Austin advised the picture-hunting artist to go to Ireland, to Galway, to Mayo, Donegal, or Sligo. "There he will find endless variety of form and attitude in the lofty and irregular hills. The colouring on mountain crag, on lake shore and lake island, on wood and plain and bog in Ireland in intermittent hours of sunshine would have shown even Raphael something more, and imbued the landscapes in Perugino's frescoes with still more freshness. It is as though all the rainbow hues of nature, that fail to find in the uniform sea water of the wide Atlantic a fitting and sufficiently sensitive canvas, discharged their iridescent loveliness on the mountains of Connemara. There nature works her own colours on her own palette with her own dew."

In addition to the scenery there is the instruction, the amusement, and it may be added the philosophy to be derived from going amongst the Irish country people. One cannot but be struck by the courtesy and kindliness that one finds everywhere, the most strongly marked traits that still survive of their old Gaelic culture and civilisation. The wayfarer is always made warmly welcome, for it is in the country that the old customs hold out longest, and in ancient Ireland hospitality was everywhere enjoined and practised as a virtue. Along the road he hears the frequent God save you kindly'

from the peasant at work in the field or bog. If you ask for a drink in a cottage, they will almost invariably ask you to come in and sit down, and offer you milk, and although you are the most entire stranger to them, all this is done as if it was you and not they that conferred the favour. They are intensely human, not having yet been spoiled by the illusion that is called modern progress, and they will take the liveliest interest in any little thing you may have to say. Not seldom an old man by the roadside will surprise you by his shrewd and humorous observations on the world and human life, and his lanugage will have at times the imaginative flavour and metaphorical turns that one associates with fine poetry. They give you the impression that they own the country and wish you to enjoy it, and not-as so often happens in other lands-that the country owns them, and that the people who inhabit it are in fact mere adscripti glebae. It is this kindliness that makes travelling in Ireland so pleasant. “Irish scenery and the Irish atmosphere feel so kindly," says Mr. Austin," because they are inhabited by an amiable people."

There is unfortunately no institution in Ireland corresponding to the English inn or the auberge in France, and, though they have improved greatly in recent years, the domiciles en route often leave much to be desired for those who seek a reasonably moderate and decent stopping place. Even in small villages the caravanserai that receives the wearied traveller is dignified by the name of hotel,' and it generally bears some other high-sounding appellation such as the Imperial' or the Royal,' to denote how often crowned heads have slept under its roof and partaken of its humble fare. In spite of these names, which might at first inspire fears in the mere commoner, they are in reality singularly modest and unpretending stopping places, where a rest for the night will not be refused to those who cannot lay any claim to patrician ancestors or to four quarterings on their escutcheon. Murray's Guide Book to Ireland warns travellers that in certain regions, rarely frequented by tourists, a knapsackbearing pedestrian will not be received in the hotel, and that he runs a risk of hearing that it is quite full. In such a case, it counsels an appeal to the constabulary, who will ascertain the truth, and cause a bed to be found by satisfying

the hotel-keeper that the tramping tourist is a genuine traveller. This seems to us to be an undeserved imputation on the fair name of Irish hotels; and we can hardly believe that it has ever been necessary to secure a lodging for the night by means of armed intervention. In our own experience of the outlying parts of Ireland, which has been considerable, we have never met with such a case, and there have been times when after a few days tramping our appearance was not of the most reputable character. The Irish hotel-keeper, though not accustomed to visitors who go about afoot, can always discriminate between the marks of honest toil on the scot and lot paying traveller, even though he be somewhat muddied in fortune's mood' and the looped and windowed raggedness of the common hoboe."

The cuisine in such places is not as a rule elaborate, but this is a matter in which walkers are not particular, or difficult to please. Even epicureans will admit the excellence of hunger as a sauce, and the appetite one has after a morning's walk of twelve or fifteen miles is a thing to be humbly thankful for. Appetite on such occasions becomes a vigorous and clamant reality, and ceases to be a merely languid desire for food that requires to be flicked into activity by hors d'oeuvres variés. Nothing that is properly food comes amiss to one, after some hours on the road. From plain bread and cheese to caviare or a pâté de foie gras (the two latter not always to be found on the menus of an Irish hotel), he accepts all that is offered to him with a good grace and a philosophic indifference. The walker can afford to despise all the ordinary rules of diet, as the vigorous Sancha Panza was able to dine in defiance of the precepts of the learned licentiate of Tirteafuera.

How one sighs for the old days in Ireland, when open houses of hospitality were maintained at various parts of the country for the reception of the stranger, where bed and food were always ready. Failing one of these he had but to go to one of the monasteries, where he was always assured of a kind reception, or in the event of missing both he could share the lavish hospitality which private houses extended to all comers. Whether in hostel or monastery or private house he was troubled by no forebodings as to the amount of the morning's

bill, for bill there was none. These were indeed the Saturnian days of walking; and, with such inducements to ramble up and down the country, he was but a foolish Irishman who did not often go pursuing the merry sport.

JOSEPH M. FLOOD.

A PASTOR'S MEMORY*

He sleeps, his work well done, where shamrocks grow,
Where songs of birds and strains of music flow,

Where spring flowers bloom beneath the sun and rain,
Where falls the shadow of a stately fane,
Where rise memorials that for long shall show
His thought and care alike for high and low;
Where oft he passed he finds surcease of pain,
And sweet, unbroken rest for heart and brain.

And yet his fame shall not endure alone
In works however fair of brick or stone.

The children of to-day that loved him well
Oft times his words to babes of theirs shall tell.
The memory of his righteous deeds shall sway
Souls to do good for many a coming day.

M. R.

SOME NEW BOOKS

1. From Fetters to Freedom. Trials and Triumphs of Irish Faith. By the Rev. Robert Kane, S.J. London: Longmans, Green and Co. (Price 5s. net.)

In a very brief preface Father Kane explains the choice. of a title to this volume and at the same time indicates the

In memory of Very Rev. T. Canon Rice, Parish Priest of Cookstown, who died on March 9th, 1915.

nature of its contents: "These Discourses are broadly illustrative of the emerging of Catholic Ireland from the serfdom. of the Penal Laws into civil, social, and religious liberty." The discourses are twenty-two in number; they were delivered on occasions of special importance or interest during the course of the past quarter of a century, and in most cases from the pulpit. Some will still remember the striking sermon with which the volume opens, the Funeral Oration on Dr. Nulty, Bishop of Meath; Dr. Lynch, the late Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin is commemorated in another. There are panegyrics of St. Sebastian, and of the Martyr Primate of Ireland,' the saintly Oliver Plunket. The subjects of the remainder are very varied: Loyalty to Christ, The Duty of the Gael, The Triumph of the Kelt, freedom, worth, miracles, are some of them. Many examples will be found of Father Kane's fine gifts as a pulpit orator-of his power to conjure up a scene and depict it with picturesque and sharply visioned detail, of his skill in the selection and arrangement of incident, of vigour of thought and tenderness of pathos, and of his exceptional mastery of rich, elaborate and full-flowing oratorical expression. One cannot help admiring the indefatigable industry of which these discourses are a proof. Many a preacher would consider himself entitled, if he were bereft of the blessed gift of sight, to follow the easier path of extempore pleading; but here the unfailing orderliness of idea and appropriateness of diction everywhere evident can only have been achieved by the most conscientious effort to attain that finished perfection of form which becomes the utterance of the word of God.

2. Round About Home. Irish Scenes and Memories. By Rev. P. T. Carroll, C.S.C. The Ave Maria, Notre Dame, Indiana. (Price 1 dollar.)

This charming book of short stories, the work of a born story-teller, gives us exquisite views of Irish life. The scenes are laid for the most part around Limerick; the author has preserved a perfect picture of the old land in his mind and he reproduces it with great exactness and completeness. The life depicted is the simple life of the peasant with his homely joys and his usual trials, but the whole is set in such a glow of piety that you seem to be reading of a wonderful