y from a distance of several miles, in
order to hear from her lips the touching old airs of their country. No
sooner was it known that she would attend any such meeting, than the
fact spread throughout the neighborhood like wild-fire, and the people
flocked from all parts to hear her, just as the fashionable world
do now, when the name of some eminent songstress is announced in the
papers; with this difference, that upon such occasions the voice of the
one falls only upon the ear, whilst that of the other sinks deeply into
the heart. She was not so well acquainted with the English tongue as my
father, although she spoke it with sufficient ease for all the purposes
of life; and for this reason, among others, she generally gave the old
Irish versions of the songs in question, rather than the English ones.
This, however, as I said, was not her sole motive. In the first place,
she had several old songs, which at that time,--I believe, too, I may
add at this,--had never been translated; and I very much fear that some
valuable ones, both as to words and airs, have perished with her. Her
family were all imbued with a poetical spirit, and some of her immediate
ancestors composed in the Irish tongue several fine old songs, in the
same manner as Carolan did; that is, some in praise of a patron or a
friend, and others to celebrate rustic beauties, that have long since
been sleeping in the dust. For this reason she had many old compositions
that were almost peculiar to our family, which I am afraid could not now
be procured at all, and are consequently lost. I think her uncle, and
I believe her grandfather, were the authors of several Irish poems and
songs, because I know that some of them she sang, and others she only
recited.

Independently of this, she had a prejudice against singing the Irish
airs to English words; an old custom of the country was thereby invaded,
and an association disturbed which habit had rendered dear to her. I
remember on one occasion, when she was asked to sing the English version
of that touching melody, "The Red-haired Man's Wife," she replied,
"I will sing it for you; but the English words and the air are like a
quarrelling man and wife: the Irish melts into the tune, but the English
doesn't," an expression scarcely less remarkable for its beauty than its
truth. She spoke the words in Irish.

This gift of singing with such sweetness and power the old sacred songs
and airs of Ireland, was not the only