LETTER XIII.

COUNTY DONEGAL.

Ballymacool, August. ALTHOUGH I cannot say that I never before knew what grandeur was, having recently left the mighty hills of Mourne, yet to discover the charm of what may be called savage magnificence, it was necessary to visit Donegal. I have seen wonders within the last few days; but before proceeding to this, I must take leave of Derry, where my last left us. Shall I relate an event, the repetition of which may be ascribed to incorrigible vanity, but which I really cannot be content to withhold? You know the famous brotherhood of the 'Apprentice Boys of Derry,' an association to which honorary members are admitted, but sparingly, and none who are not considered firm in cherishing and upholding the sacred principles of 1688.

Many attempts have been made to put down, by indirect means, this enthusiastically loyal and strictly constitutional body; but in vain. By a recent enactment, all party processions were prohibited; but as the Boys' could not believe a celebration in which the Romish bishop, priests, and people formerly took an active part could come under this head, they had the temerity to disregard it, and walked round their own ramparts as usual, on the anniversary of the shutting of the gates, two years ago.

For this daring act, twenty respectable young men, descended from the original defenders of the fortress, were arraigned at the bar; and nine of them, because they would not plead guilty in a matter which they could not understand to be legally punishable, were committed to the common goal for a fortnight. This, by the way, is not the surest mode of extinguishing a flame; but let it pass. The association exists, in all its pristine vigour, no attempt having been made to dissolve it. The Marquis of Londonderry is an honorary member, as are many of the first gentlemen in Dublin and elsewhere.

The car that was to convey us from the maiden city stood at the door, and I was anticipating the pain of a farewell look at the old walls, when some young men of this formidable fraternity

made their appearance, with a document that, at least, I shall know how to value better than I could ever deserve it—a simple, affectionate, beautifully written address, expressive of that unity of principle which, I bless God, does indeed exist between us, and tendering a welcome to their ancient city, upon grounds that must appear passing strange, considering the awfully illiberal character supposed to belong to the club, as it is called. Their thanks are tendered for what they kindly denominate exertions on behalf of their benighted countrymen' - those countrymen who are taught that every man wearing an orange riband is inclined, if he could, to put them to the sword! They are, indeed, so taught; but they are not apt scholars-not one in five hundred believes the calumnious falsehood. Now, as to whether the Apprentice Boys have given me their badge the medal I had years ago, from a dear friend at present in my sight-you must not expect me to tell: the gaol is outside the walls, and I have no wish to lodge there; but I am admitted an honorary member of the association, having the high privilege, too, of being actually akin to the heroic Colonel Murray, so famous in the defence; and, as such, I am entitled henceforth to bear the motto which, by the divine blessing, I will act up to, in its highest, holiest,

purest, and most extended import-No surrender.'

6

After a most interesting conversation with my kind brother 'Prentices, in which I elicited not a little of the old, and, I will add, sacred fire which our Solons are so clumsily trying to extinguish, ignorant or heedless of the ruin that must follow to the country and to themselves, I departed, bearing my precious trophy through Bishop's Gate, beyond which a fine street extends to a considerable length, and pursued the road by which King James decamped after his unsuccessful demonstration against the ancient fortress of British freedom,' as my new friends justly term it. The scenery here is most enchanting; the river rolls along, a broad, peaceful stream, through a succession of verdant and ever-varying landscapes, rivalling each other in beauty. As we approached a curve in the road, our hospitable friend, who had accompanied us thus far, bade me turn and take a parting look at Derry, then emerging from behind a swell of the ground. This was a superb view: the city on a hill' rose most majestically in a conical form, girt with her dark wall, crowned by her noble spire, and seemingly encircled by the river, fed by which a thousand luxuriant trees and shrubs relieved the otherwise stern outline of that embattled town.

Make

what allowance you will for partiality, and for enthusiasm too, if you please, still Derry is, in situation and general aspect, more beautiful than you can imagine from any description of mine. Even Inglis, who was as little troubled with picturesque visions as most men, and whose pages rarely offend in that way, was surprised into the language of downright eulogy when it burst upon his view. A double farewell was given, to the maiden queen, and to the friend whose unremitting attention had rendered our sojourn there doubly gratifying; and we began to explore the features of Donegal.

Nothing very striking occurred, except the distant view of most singularly shaped mountains, until we had travelled a few miles, and were met by the light car of our present host; we then found enough to engage attention. The road became rugged and unequal to a degree; and as we every now and then alighted to walk up some steep ascent, the fine specimens of geology afforded among the stones cut for repairing it surprised us. We selected some beautiful pieces, but having surmounted the hilly path I had no more leisure to look down. Scratch upon paper what rough outline you will, something approaching to it might be found among the forms that rose before us, scattered at unequal distances, and