



Produced by David Widger





ST. PATRICK'S EVE

By Charles James Lever

Illustr. by Phiz.


London:

Chapman And Hall, 186 Strand.

MDCCCXLV.




TO MY CHILDREN

MY DEAR CHILDREN,

There are few things less likely than that it will ever be your lot
to exercise any of the rights or privileges of landed property. It may
chance, however, that even in your humble sphere, there may be those
who shall look up to you for support, and be, in some wise, dependent
on your will; if so, pray let this little story have its lesson in your
hearts, think, that when I wrote it, I desired to inculcate the truth,
that prosperity has as many duties as adversity has sorrows; that those
to whom Providence has accorded many blessings are but the stewards of
His bounty to the poor; and that the neglect of an obligation so sacred
as this charity is a grievous wrong, and may be the origin of evils
for which all your efforts to do good through life will be but a poor
atonement.

Your affectionate Father,

CHARLES LEVER.

Templeogue, March 1, 1845.



[Illustration: 012]




FIRST ERA.

IT was on the 16th of March, the eve of St. Patrick, not quite twenty
years ago, that a little village on the bank of Lough Corrib was
celebrating in its annual fair "the holy times," devoting one day to
every species of enjoyment and pleasure, and on the next, by practising
prayers and penance of various kinds, as it were to prepare their minds
to resume their worldly duties in a frame of thought more seemly and
becoming.

If a great and wealthy man might smile at the humble preparations for
pleasure displayed on this occasion, he could scarcely scoff at the
scene which surrounded them. The wide valley, encircled by lofty
mountains, whose swelling outlines were tracked against the blue sky, or
mingled gracefully with clouds, whose forms were little less fantastic
and wild. The broad lake, stretching away into the distance, and either
lost among the mountain-passes, or contracting as it approached the
ancient city of Galway: a few, and but very few, islands marked its
surface, and these rugged and rocky; on one alone a human trace was
seen-the ruins of an ancient church; it was a mere gable now, but you
could still track out the humble limits it had occupied-scarce space
sufficient for twenty persons: such were once, doubtless, the full
number of converts to the faith who frequented there. There was a wild
and savage grandeur in the whole: the very aspect of the mountains
proclaimed desolation, and seemed to frown defiance at the efforts of
man to subdue them to his use; and even the herds of wild cattle seemed
to stray with caution among the cliffs and precipices of this dreary
region. Lower down, however, and as if in compensation of the infertile
tract above, the valley was marked by patches of tillage and grass-land,
and studded with cottages; which, if presenting at a nearer inspection
indubitable signs of poverty, yet to the distant eye bespoke something
of rural comfort, nestling as they often did beneath some large rock,
and sheltered by the great turf-stack, which even the poorest possessed.
Many streams wound their course through this valley; along whose
borders, amid a pasture brighter than the emerald, the cattle grazed,
and there, from time to time some peasant child sat