beholding the same prospect-" As the hills stand round about Jerusalem, even so the Lord is round about them that fear Him.”"-Oh yes, thought I, His presence must surround us wherever we may wander, it now encircles my parent's distant dwelling, and it shall be our guard until we are all again united.

After we had travelled a very long way, across fields and down bridle-roads, we sat down to recruit our wearied powers upon a green bank which skirted the highway. Suddenly a distant music of drums and trumpets was borne upon the air. Mabel directed me as the most active of the party, to reconnoitre from the summit of a neighbouring eminence. I quickly returned with intelligence, that a large body of soldiers dressed in blue uniforms, and bearing eagles on their banners, were advancing upon the Ballina road from Killala. We instantly hastened to conceal ourselves beneath the first shelter in our vicinity. It was a small outhouse attached to the back-premises on some gentleman's demesne. Mabel had a great horror of 'the French,' although they were allies of her friends the rebels, and she began to tell her beads with great rapidity, and even vowed to go to Bal,* on a station to the Virgin, should she deliver us from the impending danger. Meantime the warlike music had drawn near; but, to our great relief, it soon receded in the distance,

* Dr. M'Hale, the present titular Archbishop of Tuam, has saved many of our neighbours a fatiguing pilgrimage of thirty miles to Bal, by his consecration of a well near the old ruins of Adragoole, on the banks of Lough Conn, whither thousands now annually resort. When a child becomes dangerously ill, it is very common for its mother to pray to the Virgin for its restoration to health, at the same time, vowing an annual station in her honour, for three successive years to Adragoole. Should the child survive, its recovery is attributed to the queen of heaven, as she is impiously styled, and nothing but death ever prevents the fulfilment of the mother's vow.

as the troops proceeded on their march. However, our fears were more than recalled shortly afterwards, when we espied, through an aperture in the door, a straggling group of rebels, armed with pikes ten feet long. Our hearts beat high as their voices approached the place of our concealment; nearer, still nearer they advanced, their pikes touched the frail walls of the building, every moment we expected them to enter, but to our great delight, they passed by, deeming our refuge too insignificant a spot to repay the trouble of entrance. Old Mabel has long since passed away, but the other tremblers in that miserable goose-house will, while they peruse this record, recal their terrors during that hour of suspense.

We remained in our lurking place for some time after all appeared quiet around, but at length ventured to resume our journey. At the next cross-road we met Cormac Dhu, according to his grandmother's appointment. Cormac, although a bigot and a devotee, was yet attached by the strong bonds of hereditary fealty to the ould stock' of his master's family. He had brought with him, on the present occasion, a horse and cart, hoping by so humble a conveyance to escape the observation of any wayfarers whom we might chance to meet. While driving onwards, he informed Mabel that we must diverge from our intended route, as Ballina was occupied by the invading army under General Humbert. He also told us that the French had found, on entering the town, the body of a rebel who had been hung, because a French commission had been found upon him. In order to show their sympathy with the cause, each of the French officers in turn approached the corpse, and gave it a fraternal embrace.

Cormac, ere long, conducted us to a place with which

he was well acquainted, and which was admirably adapted to our purpose of concealment. It was an old Danish rath, still existing upon the demesne of an elderly gentleman, who was then in Ballina in the custody of the rebels. The little hill on which we stood was completely covered with wood, which screened our progress. On the summit were the remains of one of those old forts surrounded by fosses, which are generally attributed to Danish agency, but which were, more probably, the strongholds of Saxon or Norman invaders, who might have occasionally concealed their families or treasures in the caves which are excavated beneath.

Passing the fosse we entered the encircled wall, now so overgrown with moss and earth as to resemble a bank; and we reached a spot almost covered with brambles and wild privet. Here black Cormac paused, and drawing aside the tangled screen, disclosed an opening through which he bade us descend. We crept cautiously down the dark clay steps into the cave, and were rather startled to discern a figure crouched over a small clear fire. Our alarm was soon converted to joy, as we recognised our favourite Aileen, the grand-daughter of Mabel. We gladly partook of some refreshment which she placed before us, and then sank to repose, which was made welcome by our early wanderings, and subsequent alarm.

In a much smaller cave than this, Priest Cowley met his death about five months after our visit to the Rath. He had been a leader of the rebels, and after their defeat, wandered about the mountains, suffering from cold, hunger, and fatigue. At length his friends made a little subterranean cavern, under a corn-field, where they used to let down provisions to him, by means of a

rope. His pursuers often passed the entrance, which was concealed with a large stone. After some time the priest was found dead in his cave, having been suffocated by some fuel which he had ignited to counteract the humidity of the place.

About dusk, we were awakened by the low murmur of conversation in the outer cave. Starting up, we found Cormac with his comrade, Owen Rua, in consultation with our two other friends, about our future movements. The result was, that we were to remain until next day in our present shelter, as it seemed to offer perfect security: and, although subterranean, was yet warm from the smoke fo the peat. Seated in conversation round the dying embers, the hours wore rapidly away, and children as we still were, how different was our ardent devotion that night (excited, I fear, by the circumstances in which we were placed,) from the lip-worship we had previously too often used. How cold and unsatisfactory is formal prayer when offered as a duty, by a heart indifferent to being heard or answered. How different the warm supplications of a being, who has been created anew by the Holy Spirit ; who feels that an Almighty and beloved Father listens well pleased to the petitions proffered through his only Son;-and who looks expectantly for the fulfilment of those petitions, blending hopeful resignation with thanksgivings for the past.

Such is true prayer, and somewhat such did we offer up that night, as we knelt in the subterranean vault; its terrors all removed, as Aileen told us how the eye that never slept was watching over us, and the love that never failed was extended like a wall of fire round about us. We could not sing our evening hymn, as from infancy we had been wont to do, standing by our

mother's side: the sound might have betrayed our retreat, but we repeated the words with peculiar feelings, inspired by our novel situation.

As Aileen became our attendant during our subsequent wanderings, it may be well to give a slight sketch of her, whose intuitive tact and inventive resources proved most serviceable on this and many other occasions. Slightly formed, and about the middle height, she usually appeared in a brown woollen dress, only relieved by a plaid handkerchief, the ends of which were crossed in front. Her dark brown hair was braided back in the simple Madonna-like fashion of our peasantry, and was gathered into a large bow at the back of her finely-shaped head. Unlike the generality of peasants in this district, she possessed great personal attractions. To these were added an inexhaustible fund of good temper and cheerfulness, a vivid imagination, strong good sense, and a warm heart. It was no wonder than few were more universally beloved than Aileen Moran, the bride elect of Owen Rua.

About a year before the rebellion broke out, this young girl, for the first time, heard the Scriptures read in her native language. Scripture readers, as a class, were then unheard of, but she was fortunate enough to meet with an individual who felt so strongly the unspeakable value of salvation, that he was anxious to impart the knowledge of the truth. Aileen listened with surprise to the attractive simplicity of the Gospel, so different from the mystified compound of superstitious doctrines, in which she had been brought up. Whenever the Scripture reader collected a little audience in any of the cabins round, Aileen was a constant attendant: the result was, a perfect conviction of the errors of the Roman Catholic Church. The reader be