Ireland," that there are romantic remains of antiquity connected with the celebration of May-day in that country of imagination. "Mummers in Ireland," says the author, "are clearly a family of the same race with those festive bands, termed Morrice-dancers, in England. - They appear at all seasons in Ireland, but Mayday is their favourite and proper festival. They consist of a number, varying according to circumstances, of the girls and young men of the village or neighbourhood, usually selected for their good looks, or their proficiency, the females in the dance, the youths in hurling and other athletic exercises. They march in procession, two abreast, and in three divisions; the young men in the van and the rear, dressed in white or other gaycoloured jackets or vests, and decorated with ribbons on their hats and sleeves; the young women are dressed also in light-coloured garments, and two of them bear each a holly bush, in which are hung several new hurling balls, the May-day present of the girls to the youths of the village. The bush is decorated with a profusion of long ribbons or paper cut in imitation, which adds greatly to the gay and joyous, yet strictly rural, appearance of the whole. The procession is always preceded by music; sometimes of the bagpipe, but more commonly of a military fife, with the addition of a drum or tamboureen. A clown is, of course, in, attendance: he wears a frightful mask, and bears a long pole, with shreds of cloth nailed to the end of it, like a mop, which ever and anon he dips in a pool of water, or puddle, and besprinkles such of the crowd as press upon his companions, much to the delight of the younger spectators, who greet his exploits with loud and repeated shouts and laughter. The Mummers, during the day, parade the neighbouring villages, or go from one gentleman's seat to another, dancing before the mansion-house, and receiving money. The evening, of course, termi. nates with drinking. May-eve is considered a time of peculiar danger. The good people,' are supposed then to possess the power and the inclination to do all sorts of mischief without the slightest restraint. The evil eye' is then also deemed to have more than its usual vigilance and malignity; and the nurse who would walk in the open air with a child in her Published in 1825, fc. 8vo. arms, would be reprobated as a monster. Youth and loveliness are thought to be especially exposed to peril. It is therefore a natural consequence, that not one woman in a thousand appears abroad: but it must not be understood that the want of beauty affords any protection. The grizzled locks of age do not always save the cheek from a blast; neither is the brawny hand of the roughest ploughman exempt from a similar visitation. The blast is a large round tumour, which is thought to rise suddenly upon the part affected, from the baneful breath cast on it by one of the good people' in a moment of vindictive or capricious malice. May-day is called la na Beal tina, and May-eve neen na Beal tina,—that is, day and eve of Beal's fire, from its having been in heathen times, consecrated to the god Beal, or Belus; whence also the month of May is termed in Irish Mi na Beal-tine.' The ceremony practised on May-eve, of making the cows leap over lighted straw, or faggots, has been generally traced to the worship of that deity. It is now vulgarly used in order to save the milk from being pilfered by the good people.'-Another custom prevalent on May-eve is the painful and mischievous one of stinging with nettles. In the south of Ireland it is the common practice for school-boys, on that day, to consider themselves privileged to run wildly about with a bunch of nettles, striking at the face and hands of their companions, or of such other persons as they think they may venture to assault with impunity." A popular superstition related in the last quoted work, is, that at early dawn on May-morning, "the princely O'Donoghue gallops his white charger over the waters of Killarney." The foundation of this is, The Legend of O'Donoghue. In an age so distant that the precise period is unknown, a chieftain named O'Donoghue ruled over the country which surrounds the romantic Lough Lean, now called the lake of Killarney. Wisdom, beneficence, and justice distinguished his reign, and the prosperity and happiness of his subjects were their natural results. He is said to have been as renowned for his warlike exploits as for his pacific virtues; and as a proof that his domestic administration was not the less rigorous because it was mild, a rocky island is pointed out to strangers, called 'O'Donog hue's Prison' in which this prince once "His end-for it cannot correctly be "The memory of the good O'Donoghue has been cherished by successive generations, with affectionate reverence; and it is believed, that at sunrise, on every Mayday morning, the anniversary of his departure, he revisits his ancient domains: a favoured few only are, in general, permitted to see him, and this distinction is always an omen of good fortune to the beholders: when it is granted to many, it is a sure token of an abundant harvest, -a blessing, the want of which, during this prince's reign, was never felt by his people. "Some years have elapsed since the last appearance of O'Donoghue. The April of that year had been remarkably wild and stormy; but on May-morning the fury of the elements had altogether subsided. The air was hushed and still; and the sky, which was reflected in the serene lake, resembled a beautiful but deceitful countenance, whose smiles, after the most tempestuous emotions, tempt the stranger to believe that it belongs to a soul which no passion has ever ruffled. "The first beams of the rising sun were just gilding the lofty summit of Glenaa, when the waters near the eastern shore of the lake became suddenly and violently agitated, though all the rest of its surface lay smooth and still as a tomb of polished marble. The next moment a foaming $596 high-crested war-horse, exulting in his wave darted forward, and like a proud Toomies mountain. strength, rushed across the lake towards appeared a stately warrior, fully armed, Behind this wave mounted upon a milk-white steed: his helmet of polished steel, and at his back snowy plume waved gracefully from a fluttered a light-blue scarf. The horse, apparently exulting in his noble burthen, which bore him up like firm earth, while sprung after the wave along the water, in the morning sun were dashed up at showers of spray, that glittered brightly every bound. followed by numberless youths and maidThe warrior was O'Donoghue: he was ens, who moved light and unconstrained over the watery plain, as the moonlight fairies glide through the fields of air; they licious spring flowers, and they timed their were linked together by garlands of demovements to strains of enchanting melody. reached the western side of the lake, he words of the author of "Irish Legends," MAY-DAY IN ITALY. beginning of the last century, speaks of saw a more diverting object than troops of young girls, who regaled us with dances and songs on all this road; though perhaps the rarity of the sex might, in some measure, contribute to heighten the pleasure we took in seeing these merry creatures. Five or six of the prettiest and best attired girls of the village meet to gether, and go from house to house singing, and wishing every where a merry May. All their songs consist of a great number of wishes, which are commonly very pleasant; for they wish you may at once enjoy all the pleasures of youth, and of the blooming season: that you may be still possessed with an equal love, morning and evening: that you may live a hundred and two years: that every thing you may eat may be turned to sugar and All gentle hearts confess the quick'ning spring, REMARKABLE CORRESPONDENT. Although public notice has been given that anonymous correspondents will only be answered on the wrappers to the parts of this work, and that those who attach their real names will be noticed privately, yet it is necessary to remark on one who is without a local habitation, and is out of the reach of the two-penny and general post. This is the communication alluded to:To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. Sir, I am the youngest of Three hundred Gawin Douglas, by Fawkes. and sixty-six brethren-there are no fewer of us-who have the honour, in the words of the good old Song, to call the Sun our Dad. You have done the rest of our family the favour of bestowing an especial compliment upon each member of it individually-I mean, as far as you have gone; for it will take you some time before you can make your bow all roundand I have no reason to think that it is your intention to neglect any of us but poor Me. Some you have hung round with flowers; others you have made fine with martyrs' palms and saintly garlands. The most insignificant of us you have sent away pleased with some fitting apologue, or pertinent story. What have I done, that you dismiss me without mark or attribute? What though I make my public appearance seldomer than the rest of my brethren! I thought that angels' visits had been accounted the more precious for their very rarity. Reserve was always looked upon as dignified. I am seen but once, for four times that my brethren obtrude themselves; making their presence cheap and contemptible, in comparison with the state which I keep. Am I not a Day (when I do come) to all purposes as much as any of them. Decompose me, anatomise me; you will find that I am constituted like the rest. Divide me into twenty-four, and you shall find that I cut up into as many goodly hours (or main limbs) as the rest. I too have my arteries and pulses, which are the minutes and the seconds." It is hard to be dis-familied thus, like Cinderella in her rags and ashes, while her sisters flaunted it about in cherrycoloured ribbons and favors. My brethren forsooth are to be dubbed; one, Saint Day; another, Pope Day; a'third, Bishop Day; the least of them is Squire Day, or Mr. Day, while I am-plain Day. Our house, Sir, is a very ancient one, and the least of us is too proud to put up with an indignity. What though am but a younger brother in some sense-for the youngest of my brethren.is, by some thousand years my senior-yet I bid fair to inherit as long as any of them, while I have the Calendar to show; which, you must understand, is our Title Deeds. Not content with slurring me over with a bare and naked acknowledgment of my occasional visitation in prose, you have done your best to deprive me of my versehonours. In column 310 of your Book, you quote an antique scroll, leaving out the last couplet, as if on purpose to affront me. "Thirty days hath September”-so you transcribe very faithfully for four lines, and most invidiously suppress the exceptive clause :— Except in Leap Year, that's the time I need not set down the rhyme which should follow; I dare say you know it very well, though you were pleased to leave it out. These indignities demand reparation. While you have time, it will be well for you to make the amende honorable. Ransack your stores, learned Sir, I pray of you, for some attribute, biographical, anecdotical, or floral, to invest me with. Did nobody die, or nobody flourish-was nobody born-upon any of my periodical visits to this globe? does the world stand still as often as I vouchsafe to appear? Am I a blank in the Almanac? alms for oblivion? If you do not find a flower at least to grace me with (a Forget Me Not would cheer me in my present obscurity), I shall prove the worst Day to you you ever saw in your life; and your Work, instead of the Title it now vaunts, must be content (every. fourth year at least) to go by the lame appellation of The Every-Day-but-one-Book. Yours, as you treat me, TWENTY NINTH OF FEBRUARY. To this correspondent it may be demurred and given in proof, that neither in February, nor at any other time in the year 1825, had he, or could he, have had he is only an impertinence and an interexistence; and that whenever he is seen, honours" he is welcome; in the year 992, polation upon his betters. To his "floral he slew St. Oswald, archbishop of York in the midst of his monks, to whom the greater perriwinkle, Vinca Major, is dedicated. For this honour our correspondent should have waited till his turn arrived for distinction. His ignorant impatience of notoriety is a mark of weakness, and indeed it is only in compassion to his infirmity that he has been condescended to; his brothers have seen more of the world, and he should have been satisfied by having been allowed to be in their company at stated times, and like all little ones, he ought to have kept respectful silence. Besides, he forgets his origin; he is illegitimate; and as a burthen to "the family," and an upstart, it has been long in contemplation to disown him, and then what will become of him? If he has done any good in the world he may have some claim upon it, but whenever he appears, he seems to throw things into confusion. His desire to alter the title of this work excites a smile-however, when he calls upon the editor he shall have justice, and be compelled to own that it is calumny to call this the Every-Day-but-one-Book. May 2. his name having been affixed to the creed which contains his doctrines. He died St. Athanasius, Patriarch of Alexandria, in 373. Alban Butler says, the creed A. D. 373. St. Athanasius. This learned doctor of the church, was patriarch of Alexandria; he is celebrated for his opposition to the Arians, and from was compiled in Latin in the fifth century. In the beginning of May, a steam-boat for conveying passengers ascends the Thames in the morning from Queenhithe to Richmond, and returns the same day; and so she proceeds to and fro until the autumn. Before she unmoors she takes in little more than half her living freight, the remainder is obtained during the passage. Her band on deck plays a lively tune, and "off she goes" towards Blackfriars'-bridge. From thence, leisurely walkers, and holiday-wishing people, on their way to business, look from between the balustrades on the enviable steamer; they see her lower her chimney to pass beneath the arch, and ten to one, if they cross the road to watch her coming forth on the other side, they receive a puff No. 20. |