in a high degree; so, slackening their pace, to try if they could understand what it meant, they recognised Pat as he dashed obliquely past them. "Hallo, Pat! tear of war, man, will you be after telling us where you are bound?" said one of them. Pat stood, his eyes glared wildly, and staring at them for about a quarter of a minute, said nothing. Off he was about to start again, when he was laid hold of by both with an iron grasp. "Let me go, you murdering thieves; how dare you waylay an honest man on business. I must be off at once, for I'm late, I'm late," growled Pat, while he pointed his scissors to the moon. “Pat, asthore,” said the sweet-tongued Leitrim men, for such they were, "let us know what's the matter with you, and you may depind on our assistance, for we are sorry to see you in trouble." "Your assistance, ye varmin," said Pat, “I scorn your assistance, for I'm the most honoured tradesman on 'arth; drap yer hoults, for I tell you I'm going to the tap of Cruckroosky to ketch the moon, and to take the governor's measure for a pair of breeches, which I am to make to order; do ye understand that, ye neygars ?"

This was enough; no more was requisite to convince them that Pat was utterly demented; so they kindly took him in charge, and, with much apparent reluctance on his part, they escorted him home. By this manoeuvre the smugglers, with their goods and chattels, escaped. It would be tedious and useless to go on giving incident after incident of capture and escape, to show how extensively this business has been carried on; suffice it to say that, through the entire of this extensive barony it has prevailed, there being scarcely a townland or subdivision which could be excepted.

Nor was it carried on with impunity; destructive visitations and numerous arrests testify how well the military and police performed their duties. In those arrests even informers sometimes came to grief. A Revenue officer, now dead, told me that he knew noted smugglers who were informers. A man of this class came to him one evening and told him where he might find a still at work, and named an hour at which, if the party attended, they would be sure to make a haul. It was accordingly arranged that the police should attend at that hour, and the informer departed. The officer, suspecting himself to be a partner, was at the place indicated an hour earlier than the appointed time, and had the gratification of capturing his informant, with the others, at the side of the still. Hints and

gestures were of no avail in softening the obdurate heart of the officer; he was marched off with the others, and made to share their fate. It may seem incredible that a man should inform against what he was himself part proprietor of, but that paradox is explained by the fact that such was done only when the run happened to appear bad or unproductive, and the bribe consequently better to the traitor than his share of the produce. In justice to the officer, I must add that he never gave the slightest idea who that party was, and the secret, like many others, now lies with him in the darkness and silence of

the grave.

After arrest the captives were conveyed in due course before the local tribunals, where, being gravely lectured on the mischief and immorality of their trade, they were, in default of payment of the penalty, consigned to the county prison, where by this time the catalogue of the offenders against this branch .of our laws must be a long one.

After Glenagannon the most celebrated spot for smuggling in Inishowen is the Meedians, in Iskaheen. The word Meedians means meadows. There are four townlands of this name closely adjoining each other-Meedianmore, Meedianban, Meedianbuidhe, Meedianroe. Some fifteen years ago it was by no means a rare thing to find a dozen stills at work at the same time in these townlands. For the most part they worked in the broad daylight; sentries were placed on the neighbouring hills to watch the movements of the police, and if it happened to be during the night, a sentinel kept watch on the Revenue barrack to ascertain the direction they would go in case they proceeded to night duty. The process of doubling or singling, however, does not afford such an ample field for the smuggler's ingenuity as the making of the malt or the hiding of the working barrel. The malt is often made on the mountain side; there is a hole scooped out large enough to admit a human body, and to contain a bag of malt. The entrance is covered by a few overhanging branches of heather, and so well is it concealed that the eye of the most experienced policeman would often fail to discover the spot. The barrel is generally sunk on the public highway, or in a boundary fence, where the ownership of the property is hard to be proved. It is sometimes to be found near running water, and the stream flowing over it. The people of the Meedians were up to all these devices. When the whiskey was made they carried it on horse

back (and strong swift horses they generally kept,) up to Meenamalt, at the base of Granu's Gap. Here they sold it to dealers, who conveyed it in their loads of turf to Derry. Some of the leading merchants and magistrates connected with the city, aye, and churchmen, too, were its best patrons.

It was a cold day in the month of March, the snow lay to the depth of several inches on the ground; the venerable pastor of the parish received a sick call to Meedianmore; without delay he proceeded on his journey. It was a case of confinement, and Dr. B., who at that time resided in Moville, had been called in to attend. Although the old priest was an enemy of intemperance, and no friend to the smuggler, the people of the Meedians had a custom as soon as they found the priest in the district to set the still at work. We believe the cause of this was the Revenue police, who, as a rule, were a most honourable body, had a respect for the venerable old man, and were unwilling to intrude on the house where he held a station or discharged any clerical function. The old man was not aware of this, for he was guileless and unsuspecting as a child. A smuggler belonging to Meedianmore having learned that the priest was in the town and likely to remain there for some time, set his still to work in an old ruined edifice adjoining his dwelling-house. He had scarcely commenced operations when the police officer and twelve men of the Quigley's Point station were seen making their way in the direction of Meedianmore. What was to be done? To cease operations all the material would be destroyed; to carry away the still and worm would attract the attention of the police to the place. In this dilemma our smuggler rushed to the house where the priest was, told his story briefly but pathetically. "Sir, can you do anything for me; I am not one of your flock, it is true, but still I am sure that will make no difference. I am a poor man, have a small family dependent upon me for their support, times are bad, provisions high, there is no labour, if I lose this I lose all I am possessed of; our house is without money, even without food, do I beseech you strive and do all you can. The appeal was not without its effect. "Doctor," said the priest, "Yes," said the doctor, "Well,

can you leave your patient?”

"there is no present necessity for my remaining here.” then, let us have a walk." The doctor and the priest then proceeded in the direction the officer and men were coming. There was a warm shake hands and a cordial greeting between

"No,"

the officer and the priest, for they were on intimate terms. "Have you a station here to-day?" said the officer. said the priest, "'tis a sick-call, a woman in confinement;" then turning round to the doctor the priest said, "Doctor, perhaps it is not right those police should pass by the door where this sick woman is lying; an alarm in her case might be dangerous?" “I am glad you reminded me of it," said the doctor, "it would be serious." "Oh, then," said the officer, "let them by no means pass that way." Then addressing the sergeant he said, "Sergeant, take those men round by Meedianban." The police went this way, the smuggler escaped, and many and fervent were the prayers that he heaped on the head of the good priest. A few days after, when the priest met the officer, he told him the whole affair, and no one enjoyed it more than the officer himself.

Let me not, however, be understood as having any sympathy for this class of craftsmen, or any desire that their trade should continue to flourish. I have neither; moreover, I endorse the opinion that it is a mischievous and immoral trade, engendering irregularities, sloth, intemperance, and other vices, of which many who were employed in it became the victims. The Government and the Legislature I consider responsible for this. And why? Because it was by their imposing unwise restrictions on the legal distillers that smuggling was first started and originated. These restrictions had also the effect of preventing the licensed distillers from producing a good marketable article. So much did the private distillers surpass them in this respect that it was at one time held to be the best recommendation for the sale of whiskey to be able to certify that "the eye of a gauger never saw it." Even now, by maintaining a duty of 300 per cent. on the cost price on spirits consumed in the country, the Government hold out the most tempting inducements to a people already predisposed for smuggling to carry it on. Landlords, too, in former times, were to blame for its encouragement, and they did so because it gave a ready and profitable market for grain, the produce of their land.

But let the duties be given up, and illicit distillation will soon be a thing of the past. Nothing else is likely to put a stop to it or cure society of its attendant evils, as, I believe, we will never be made moral or religious by act of parliament.

L

CHAPTER XIII.

Cloncha.

We will now proceed to the parish of Cloncha, by the road from Carn to Malin town. There is a bridge on this road where it winds round the head of Strabreagy, and, when the tide is full, a most pleasing view of the lough may be obtained from it even to its inlet at Knockameny, with the white waves of the Atlantic showing their bulky masses each now and then, like hoary elephants at play amidst the sand banks, whilst their deep booming roar is often heard for miles around.

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar;

I love not man the less, but nature more,

From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,

To mingle with the universe, and feel

What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal."-BYRON.

Beyond the bridge we pass a remarkable conical knoll, slightly rounded off at top, and named Doonkintra. It rises boldly and abruptly above the level of the surrounding fields, and its rich emerald covering of luxuriant grass and shamrocks contrasts beautifully with the purplish heath beyond. It is also remark

able as being the spot on which was held the monster Repeal meeting of this barony on the 7th of August, 1843. And singularly suitable for the occasion was the "Green Hill." Another place could scarcely be obtained at the time on which to hold a meeting for giving expression to the popular mind on the great question of the day. A section of the oligarchy became alarmed, and sheltered themselves behind the muskets of the military. But there was no need for apprehension, all were thoroughly impressed with the maxim of their great director, He who commits a crime gives strength to the so that the thousands and tens of thousands who came that day from Fahan and from Cloncha, from Clonmany and Movilla, from Culdaff and from Donagh, with ardent and hopeful hearts, wore most peaceful, orderly, and sober. Naught, then, Lad the spirited proprietor of the land, J. M'Sheffry, Esq, to regret for permitting them to use it.

enemy,

The great agration has gone for naught, O'Connell was