One of the most beautiful and pathetic pieces of Irish poetry remaining, written by Macleog, private secretary to Brian, after the demise of that monarch, and beginning with this expression of his sorrow: “Oh! Cencoradh (the name of his patron’s favourite palace), where is Brian?” was picked up in the Netherlands, in 1650, by Fergar O’Gara, an Augustinian friar, who fled from Ireland in the iron days of Cromwell.
[166] I rejoice to state, that the present administration, under the benign direction of our patriot King, have resolved, so far as in them lies, to atone for former depredators. There is now a vigorous revisal of those documents going on, with a view, as I understand, to their immediate publication.
[167] The antiquarian luminaries of the Royal Irish Academy would fain make out that this was a Christian warrior. Their high priest has lately proclaimed the fact, in their “collective wisdom.” It is astonishing how fond they have suddenly become for the memory of the monks; they would now father everything like culture in the country upon them. It used not to have been so!
[168] This image was found under the root of a tree dug up in Roscommon. It is about the size of the drawing; is made of brass, once gilt; the gilding, however, now almost worn off; and may be seen in the Museum of Trinity College, Dublin.
[169] Major Archer’s Travels in Upper India, vol. i. pp. 383, 384. Lond. 1833.
[170] So the “collective wisdom,” in the true spirit of Christian restitution and penitential contrition, have lately pronounced him! It is delightful to see this solicitous zeal with which, when it suits a private purpose, they cherish the memory of the monks, being no longer in the way of their secular perquisites: but if the poor monks could speak, or send a voice from the tomb, it would be to say that they did not choose to be encumbered with such meretricious flattery; and that, having laid no claim to those relics, or to the towers which they decorated, during their lifetime, they now in death must repudiate the ascription. “Timeo Danaas et dona ferentes,” would be their answer.
[171] Asiatic Researches, vol. vi.; where it will be observed that the Doctor was not writing for me. He did not even suspect the existence of this figure. It is, like the preceding one, of bronze.
[172] The Egyptian sovereign assumed this title, as the highest that language and imagination could bestow. It signifies literally the act of copulation, of which it would represent him as presiding genius—the source whence all pleasure and happiness can flow—and is but faintly re-echoed in the Macedo-Syriac regal epithet of Ευεργετης, “Benefactor,” or even that by which we designate our king as the fountain of goodness. There being no such letter as ph in the ancient alphabets, all those words, viz. Pheor, Pharaoh, and Pharagh, should properly be spelled Feor, Faraoh, and Faragh.
[173] Gen. xlvi. 34.
[174] “On the fifteenth day of the first month every year. Every person is obliged, on the evening of that day, to set out a lantern before his door, and these are of various sizes and prices, according to the different circumstances of those to whom they belong. During this festival, they have all sorts of entertainments, such as plays, balls, assemblies, music, dancing, and the lanterns are filled with a vast number of wax candles, and surrounded with bonfires.”