Thanks for doing your usual great work, Soren, even though not feeling like it after a week end of frustration. I won`t even bother to comment upon the race, -I have alomst forgotten it already! ? But the prospects for 2014 are far more interesting. I do not dare to believe in a Red Bull swap, -it simply would make my dreams come true: Kimi with a up to date car. In such a case we really can talk about WDC chances more realistic than the actual microscopical emotional hopes.
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When the forgery of state commissions and other important documents is acknowledged on all sides to be no unusual practice; when the solemnity of an oath was regarded a mere matter of convenience, or a form to serve some particular purpose, which might be absolved or abjured if necessary, and when the actors in these matters are viewed as animated by the irritation of party feuds and feeling, excited by political intrigue, and inflamed by religious rancour and bigotry, should we not pause and investigate every statement with the most scrutinizing strictness?
The present Irish character is a compound of strange and apparent inconsistencies, where vices and virtues are so unhappily blended that it is difficult to distinguish or separate them. Hasty in forming opinions and projects, tardy in carrying them into effect, they are often relinquished before they have arrived at maturity, and are abandoned for others as vague and indefinite. An Irishman is the sport of his feelings; with passions the most violent and sensitive, he is alternately the child of despondency or of levity; his joy or his grief has no medium; he loves or he hates, and hurried away by the ardent stream of a heated fancy, naturally enthusiastic, he is guilty of a thousand absurdities. These extremes of temperament Giraldus Cambrensis has correctly depicted when he says, When they (the Irish) be bad, you shall no where meet with worse; if they be good, you can hardly find better. With a mind inexhaustible in expedient to defeat difficulties and act as a substitute for the conveniencies of life which poverty denies, the peasant is lively in intellect, ardent in disposition, and robust in frame; nor does he readily despond under disaster, or yield to obstruction; but moves forward in his rugged course with elevated crest and a warm heart: with a love of combat and of inebriation, he is fond of excitement and amusement of any nature.
In 1780, the Patriots of Ireland, at once numerous and endowed with superior talents, supported by a volunteer army fifty thousand strong, demanded a free trade and a free constitution. Lord North was then Prime Minister of England, humiliated by the success of the Americans, and feeling that it would be imprudent to resist claims so well founded, so well advocated in the senate, and so loudly called for by an armed people, acquiesced in the wishes of the Irish nation; obnoxious statutes were repealed, and the independence of the country, as far as was consistent with the British connection, acknowledged. Ireland, after shaking off the chains that so long had fettered her, stood for a time upright, and wore a happy and rather a commanding aspect. It was supposed that she would become rich by commerce and well governed by her laws, and that such a season of prosperity would bloom over the land as should blot out the recollection of past miseries, and cause flowers to spring up where weeds and thorns flourished. These predictions were soon blasted, and her horizon became again overcast; popular discontent again reared its head. The French Revolution encouraged faction to grow daring, and patriotism degenerated into rebellion, and rebellion was followed by the Union, which annihilated the constitution of 1780, took from Ireland her parliament, her nobles and her nominal independence; and although it has been questioned whether it has conferred countervailing benefits, none can doubt that since the Union, England looks towards her with a more gracious aspect; many abuses also in the mode of legislation have been removed; and the measure having taken place it must be the wish of every honest mind that it will be made as beneficial to both as possible, and that the bonds of mutual interest and reciprocal justice, will cement the two countries.
Many of their glens and passes possess a sublime sterility that inspires feelings of awe and reverence. Masses of rock are heaped together in unprofitable barrenness, clothed only with the humble lichen, and unyielding to vegetation, receive from year to year in vain the alternate changes of rain and sunshine. A stream, broken into several little falls, often foams along the centre of these rugged defiles, or tumbles precipitately over a steep crag with ceaseless plash. In some places, vast stones, rounded by the action of the atmosphere, hang in fantastic elevation as if ready to be rolled down with overwhelming crash upon the spectator beneath, and have been poetically described in Irish song as the marbles that Time and Nature played with when they were young and the world in its infancy. Surrounded by some of the grandest of these mountains lies Killarney, Where woody glens in sweetness smile As Echo answers from their breast, And lakes with many a fairy isle, That on a mirror seem to rest.
Early in the year 1691, St. Ruth, a meritorious but arrogant officer, arrived from France to replace Boislieu, with a small sum of money, and the promise of extensive succours; and Tyrconnell, the former agent of despotism and bigotry, also returned from the same country, with inconsiderable supplies, accompanied by Sir Richard Nagle and Sir Stephen Rice. Dissension and intrigue arose between the French and Irish leaders (military as well as civil), and the contagion was communicated to those under their controul. The French reproached the Irish with their treachery, meanness and barbarous condition; and the Irish retorted on the French foppishness, insincerity, and frivolity of disposition, terming the large boots in which they strutted, leathern trunks; the result was, the most violent disputes and factions, to which Tyrconnell became a victim, poison, as it is believed, having been administered to him in a cup of ratafia. According to Sir John Dalrymple, he died, lamenting with his last breath the miseries he had brought on his country. Such was the end of him, whom Lord Bellasis describes as fool and madman enough to ruin ten kingdoms. But of whatever unconstitutional and arbitrary measures Tyrconnell may formerly have been guilty, and he is no doubt with justice accused, his latter conduct appears that of a real patriot, alive to the ruinous effects of civil warfare, and willing to sacrifice his own feelings for the restoration of tranquillity and the general advantage of the nation.
The third abbey stands within Mr. Quin's demesne, and, surrounded by venerable trees, becomes a most impressive and romantic object. The seclusion and beauty of its situation are calculated to excite poetic feelings in the mind, which are heightened by the gloom of ash and ancient yew trees, that almost darken the cloisters at noon-day.
Adjoining Ballybeg Abbey is a large field, called the Pigeon Field; in digging which some years since, a vault was discovered lined with images. The person from whom I received the information added, that these images being handy to the road, were broken up and thrown thereon to repair it. In 1815, the landlady of the inn, at Buttevant, gave me an account of a curious discovery made at Ballybeg Abbey, about five-and-twenty years back, by a blacksmith named Supple, who was induced, from a dream, to dig amongst the ruins in search of money, a superstition so prevalent with the lower orders of Irish, as to cause them, like the Arabs, to excavate near almost every ancient building, in expectation of finding concealed treasure. Supple, after some laborious days spent in disturbing the bones of the old Fathers, came to a stone coffin, containing a skeleton adorned with a cross and chains of gold, and a thin plate of the same precious metal stamped with a representation of the crucifixion. These relics were carried by the finder to Cork, and disposed of to a goldsmith, by whom they were consigned to the crucible; and the stone coffin converted to a pig-trough at the cabin of a farmer near the abbey. The accuracy of this narrative has been corroborated by a son of Supple's, whom I met accidentally, and entered into conversation with on the spot.
To enjoy, indeed to see the scenery of the Blackwater between Mallow and Fermoy, a tract dignified by the name of the garden of Ireland, frequent detours must be made from the carriage road, as it is otherwise impossible to form an adequate idea of the adjacent country. Sir Richard Hoare complains feelingly of this circumstance.
Lord Cork is said to have powerfully advanced the English interest in Ireland, and it must be granted, if the severest intolerance has been beneficial to the cause of Union: the bigotry of the Protestants against their Roman Catholic brethren in those towns under his influence reached a degree of marked violence unknown in any other part of the kingdom, and which feeling is not entirely eradicated at the present hour; I need only instance the town of Bandon, where, over the principal gate, an inscription once stated that Jew, Turk or atheistmay enter herebut not a Papist. The following severe reply to this offensive inscription is said to have caused its removal: Whoever wrote this, wrote it well,For the same is written on the gates of Hell.
A painting of our Saviour, the unskilful production of some village artist, hung against the wall, and near it was a wooden cross; both, I presume, viewed with strong feelings of veneration; but there is always considerable reserve in the communication of any particulars respecting relics or similar objects.
The attachment manifested towards particular burial-places arises from the same cause; and the anxiety amongst the vulgar to be interred with their deceased relatives, bestows even on death a feeling of social interest. 2ff7e9595c
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