trivial and unimportant, exercise a mighty and permanent influence on our
habits and pursuits!--how frequently is a stream turned aside from its
natural course by some little rock or knoll, causing it to make an abrupt
turn! On a wild road in Ireland I had heard Irish spoken for the first
time; and I was seized with a desire to learn Irish, the acquisition of
which, in my case, became the stepping-stone to other languages. I had
previously learnt Latin, or rather Lilly; but neither Latin nor Lilly
made me a philologist. I had frequently heard French and other
languages, but had felt little desire to become acquainted with them; and
what it may be asked, was there connected with the Irish calculated to
recommend it to my attention?

First of all, and principally, I believe, the strangeness and singularity
of its tones; then there was something mysterious and uncommon associated
with its use. It was not a school language, to acquire which was
considered an imperative duty; no, no; nor was it a drawing-room
language, drawled out occasionally, in shreds and patches, by the ladies
of generals and other great dignitaries, to the ineffable dismay of poor
officers' wives. Nothing of the kind; but a speech spoken in out-of-the-
way desolate places, and in cut-throat kens, where thirty ruffians, at
the sight of the king's minions, would spring up with brandished sticks
and an "ubbubboo, like the blowing up of a powder-magazine". Such were
the points connected with the Irish, which first awakened in my mind the
desire of acquiring it; and by acquiring it I became, as I have already
said, enamoured of languages. Having learnt one by choice, I speedily,
as the reader will perceive, learnt others, some of which were widely
different from Irish.

Ah, that Irish! I am much indebted to it in more ways than one. But I
am afraid I have followed the way of the world, which is very much wont
to neglect original friends and benefactors. I frequently find myself,
at present, turning up my nose at Irish, when I hear it in the street;
yet I have still a kind of regard for it, the fine old language:

_A labhair Padruic n'insefail nan riogh_.

One of the most peculiar features of this part of Ireland is the ruined
castles, which are so thick and numerous that the face of the country
appears studded with them, it being difficult to choose any situation
from which one, at least, may not be descried. They are of various ages
and st