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 PSYCHIC EMPATH
5 BOOKS IN 1
Reiki for Beginners, Kundalini, Chakra Healing, Buddhism,
Psychic

development, Third eye, Deep Sleep Techniques, Awareness

therapy, Empath, and Yoga Sutras

By Spiritual Awakening Academy

 REIKI HEALING FOR BEGINNERS
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1: REIKI HEALING
H R ?
CHAPTER 2: REIKI HEALING TECHNIQUES
K R
B K R
S S R
B S S R
W R
B W R
CHAPTER 3: BENEFITS OF REIKI
I A D N E S W
A H O
P H
M E H
I S
G C
S R
D B M
E R
B H
E B
R S R
P R
B F
N D
I S
S -H
E C
A T
CHAPTER 4: SYMBOLS OF REIKI
5T R S
Power
Harmony
Distance
Master
Completion
H S A U
CHAPTER 5: REIKI AND THE CHAKRAS
THE BENEFITS OF A BALANCED CHAKRA SYSTEM
A B B C :
N E P E
W B C C B L
CHAPTER 6: LEVELS OF REIKI
 3L D R
First Degree
Second Degree
Third Degree (Inner Master)
H A T R L
CHAPTER 7: REIKI HEALING HAND POSITIONS FOR A HEALTHIER AND BETTER
LIFE
H R H W :T T
What Exactly Is Reiki Doing?
What Is the Biofield?
Reiki Compared to Other Treatments
H R H I D :T H S
Who Should I See?
What Is the Setting?
How Do I Sign Up?
What Is Involved in a Session?
What Is the Experience Like?
What Should I Do During the Session?
How Does the Session End?
H D R C Y :T E
CHAPTER 8: POWER OF POSITIVE THOUGHTS
CHAPTER 9: REIKI AND MEDITATION
CHAPTER 10: REIKI AND BODY ENERGY
T E B
T 5L H E F
Physical Energy
Etheric
Emotional Energy
Mental Energy
Spiritual Energy
W S Y B C A E F ?
CHAPTER 11: REIKI FOR YOURSELF AND OTHERS
H P R
H P E R B
The Head
Front of the Body
Back of the Body
Legs and Feet
U H P P H
Teeth and Gums
Warts and Polyps
Balding and Hair Loss
CHAPTER 12: AFFIRMATIONS
H A
CHAPTER 13: MEDITATIONS TO HELP YOU ALIGN WITH REIKI
Meditation to Heal the Auric Field
 Meditation to Heal the Karmic Past
Meditation to Awaken the Channels of Light
CHAPTER 14: FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ABOUT REIKI
CONCLUSION
KUNDALINI AWAKENING
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1: KUNDALINI BASICS
W / K ?
T K P
T K C
T K
D K
T K , ,
CHAPTER 2: THE BASICS OF MEDITATION
M M P
P
Y
Everything Seems to Fall Apart
Physical Symptoms
Emotional Symptoms
Energetic Symptoms
I
CHAPTER 3: THE ENERGY OF PRANA
T K
T F P Y
CHAPTER 4: PSYCHIC ABILITIES
T
T
P
P
H D Y P A
CHAPTER 5: PSYCHIC SKILLS
P H
CHAPTER 6: CLAIRVOYANCE & OTHER PSYCHIC GIFTS
CHAPTER 7: ASTRAL TRAVEL
T M
H H
CHAPTER 8: HOW TO AWAKEN KUNDALINI
CHAPTER 9: TERMINOLOGIES
CONCLUSION
PSYCHIC EMPATH
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1: UNDERSTANDING PSYCHIC EMPATHS
W E ?
H P E
H E F
C T E
Highly sensitive
They have good luck
They hate conflict
High sensory stimulation
Their instincts about people are on the money
They have imaginary friends
They appear lonely
They have a past life
Communicate with animals
Loving and compassionate
Sleep issues
Good at connecting dots
They have trouble letting go
Soak up other peoples’ energies
Highly intuitive
Overwhelmed by relationships
Take long to process emotions
Love nature
Strong senses
C E
Getting Others
Creating Others
Utilizing Diversity
Political Awareness
CHAPTER 2: UNDERSTANDING PSYCHIC EMPATHS
H P E
H E F
H E O I
CHAPTER 3: EMPATHS AND SPIRITUAL HYPERSENSITIVITY
H C W S H
T :
Prayer
Water
Mindfulness
E O
Lavender
Rose
Chamomile
Frankincense
 H U E O H
Aromatherapy
Oral Application
Topical Application
CHAPTER 4: THE BENEFITS OF DEVELOPING YOUR INTUITION AND PSYCHIC
ABILITIES
The sensation of pressure disappears
The connection with the spirits
Learning and spirituality
Heightened sensitivity of your physical senses
Intuition
Miles away from negativity
The desire to eat healthier food
Making new friends
CHAPTER 5: THE PSYCHOLOGY BEHIND EMPATHS
T S M U B E
H F P L E
E O R A
Lavender Neck Rub
Calming Essential Oil
Anxiety Blend #1
Anxiety Blend #2
Anxiety Blend #3
CHAPTER 6: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN EMPATHS AND HIGHLY SENSITIVE
PEOPLE
CHAPTER 7: SIGNS YOU MAY ALREADY HAVE PSYCHIC ABILITIES
W P I P A ?
S P S :
CHAPTER 8: HOW TO DEVELOP YOUR PSYCHIC ABILITIES FOR A BETTER LIFE
CHAPTER 9: EXERCISES TO BOOST YOUR PSYCHIC ABILITIES
CHAPTER 10: PARENTING EMPATH CHILDREN — TIPS FOR RAISING AN EMPATH
CHILD
H
T
CHAPTER 11: CLAIRVOYANT HEALING
CHAPTER 12: TELEPATHY
CHAPTER 13: AURA AND AURA READING
W A
CHAPTER 14: MEDIUMSHIP
CHAPTER 15: HOW TO BOOST YOUR PSYCHIC ABILITIES
CHAPTER 16: HOW TO EMBRACE BEING AN EMPATH
H B A E
L H S B
H B E E
CHAPTER 17: COMMON MYTHS THAT PSYCHIC EMPATHS SHOULD NEVER
BELIEVE
CONCLUSION
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GUIDED SELF-HEALING MEDITATIONS
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER ONE: HISTORY OF MEDITATION
T B M
B
Meditation Helps to Reduce Stress
Meditation Helps Keep Emotions under Control
Meditation Increases Serotonin Secretion
Meditation Improves the Ability to Focus
Meditation Increases Creativity
Meditation Increases Empathy and the Ability to Connect
Meditation Helps Improve Relationships
Meditation Enhances Memory
Meditation Improves Immunity
Meditation Helps You Overcome Addictions
Meditation Benefits Cardiovascular Health
Meditation Aids Weight Loss
Meditation Helps Manage Headaches
H G M P ?
B E AM P
Without a firm foundation, you will not be consistent
It helps you create a habit
It makes your practice ingrained, almost second-nature activity in your life
C H M
CHAPTER TWO: ANXIETY
W .
Strained Communication
Toxic Personality
Former Relationship
Gratefulness
Work-Related Stress
It Keeps You Positive
Your Connection
T F T A D
Social Phobias (Social Anxiety Disorder)
Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD)
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)
Panic Disorder
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
E S H Y O A R
Steps for Mindfulness Meditation to Distill Relationship Anxiety
Difficulties in This Meditation
How to Practice Meditation for GAD
CHAPTER THREE: HOW TO CALM THE BODY
Mindfulness Body Scan Meditation
Breathing Exercises throughout the Day
CHAPTER FOUR: HOW TO CALM THE MIND
Why You Should Calm Your Mind
How to Calm Your Mind through Meditation
Through Mindfulness
CHAPTER FIVE: GUIDED MEDITATION TO MANAGE PANIC ATTACK
S :
T
F
N
A
S
C
D
N
D
T
K
B
K
M
V
B
S
CHAPTER SIX: DEEP SLEEP TECHNIQUES
M O I
M T I
G M T
G M I P W
G I
CONCLUSION
THIRD EYE AWAKENING
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1: WHAT IS THE THIRD EYE?
CHAPTER 2: HOW TO OPEN YOUR THIRD EYE
CHAPTER 3: TECHNIQUES TO AWAKEN THE THIRD EYE CHAKRA
A M T E F
T F O
L H T M
E A T O O T T E
CHAPTER 4: GUIDED DAY MEDITATIONS TO AWAKEN THE THIRD EYE
CHAPTER 5: THE POWERS OF AN OPEN THIRD EYE
E T E E M
B O Y T E
CHAPTER 6: PSYCHIC ABILITIES
CHAPTER 7: PSYCHIC AWARENESS
T D S Y P A
CHAPTER 8: EXERCISES FOR AWAKENING YOUR INNER SPIRIT
CHAPTER 9: PINEAL GLAND ACTIVATION AND CHAKRAS
A P G T G M (10-15 M )
C M
T C
S S –D P A
CHAPTER 10: HOW TO MAINTAIN THE HEALTH OF YOUR THIRD EYE OVER
TIME?
CHAPTER 11: COMMON MISTAKES PEOPLE MAKE TRYING TO ACTIVATE THE
THIRD EYE
CONCLUSION
 Text Copyright © Spiritual Awakening Academy

All rights reserved. No part of this guide may be reproduced in any form
without permission in writing from the publisher except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Legal & Disclaimer

The information contained in this book and its contents is not designed to
replace or take the place of any form of medical or professional advice; and
is not meant to replace the need for independent medical, financial, legal or
other professional advice or services, as may be required. The content and
information in this book has been provided for educational and entertainment
purposes only.
The content and information contained in this book has been compiled from
sources deemed reliable, and it is accurate to the best of the Author's
knowledge, information and belief. However, the Author cannot guarantee its
accuracy and validity and cannot be held liable for any errors and/or
omissions. Further, changes are periodically made to this book as and when
needed. Where appropriate and/or necessary, you must consult a professional
(including but not limited to your doctor, attorney, financial advisor or such
other professional advisor) before using any of the suggested remedies,
techniques, or information in this book.
Upon using the contents and information contained in this book, you agree to
hold harmless the Author from and against any damages, costs, and expenses,
including any legal fees potentially resulting from the application of any of
the information provided by this book. This disclaimer applies to any loss,
damages or injury caused by the use and application, whether directly or
 indirectly, of any advice or information presented, whether for breach of
contract, tort, negligence, personal injury, criminal intent, or under any other
cause of action.
You agree to accept all risks of using the information presented inside this
book.

You agree that by continuing to read this book, where appropriate and/or
necessary, you shall consult a professional (including but not limited to your
doctor, attorney, or financial advisor or such other advisor as needed) before
using any of the suggested remedies, techniques, or information in this book.
 REIKI HEALING FOR
BEGINNERS

The Ultimate Guide to Learn Mindfulness and Self-Healing

Techniques.
Expand Mind Power Through Chakra Meditation, and
Overcoming the Daily Stress and Anxiety

By Spiritual Awakening Academy

 Introductio n
ion
Reiki healing allows you to connect with the energies of the Universe and use
it in a way that encourages the body to heal itself. It can be used to treat
aches and pains, overcome allergies and headaches, and even heal chronic or
painful diseases. The results depend heavily on your abilities and your
mindset, as it is important to be receptive to the Reiki energies for them to
result.
Often, the emotional and physical health problems that we struggle with stem
from blocked energy channels in the body. Energy channels can be blocked
after certain life circumstances or from being neglected. As you learn to
encourage the flow of Universal energy through your body, you can promote
overall health and wellness. You can stop at learning to heal yourself or you
can continue our practice to strengthen your abilities and possibly heal
others.
Hopefully, this book has been able to help provide the foundation for Reiki
knowledge that you can build upon later. For the time being, however, you
should know what you need to put your Reiki skills to work. The only thing
left to do is practice! Your abilities will strengthen with time and as you
become more aware of the way that the energies of the universe and your
body affect you.
The following chapters will discuss the process of Reiki and how you can
get started with the great healing powers that come from it. Many people
have never heard about Reiki before, but it is actually a powerful energy that
is inside all of us. If you are dealing with chakras that are blocked up or
energy that is not able to go freely through your body, using Reiki, either in
person or over distance, can make all the difference.
This guidebook is going to spend some time talking about Reiki and the
different parts that come with it. We will explore the fundamentals of what
Reiki is all about and even how it relates to the chakras. We will also spend
some time talking about how to perform Reiki on yourself, the training that a
Reiki master has to go through, the benefits of using Reiki, and even some of
the most common symbols for this practice. Once you give it a try using the
information that is in this guidebook, you will be amazed at how much better
you feel, emotionally, physically, and mentally.
When you are tired of dealing with emotional, mental or physical ailments
and you have tried other methods that seem to have bad side effects or will
make things worse, it may be time to give Reiki a try. Take some time to read
through this guidebook and learn some of the basics of Reiki and how it can
help you.
Chapter 1: Reiki Healin g
Reiki is a form of therapy that promotes healing and balance in life.
The practice of Reiki improves relaxation and reduces stress, both of which
are prevalent in society.
The focus of Reiki is to improve or increase the flow of positive energy
through the use of energy that flows from the hands of the practitioner.
The idea is to improve areas of low or weak energy, which are considered
areas of illness, to improve well being.
The word Reiki originates from the Japanese words for Rei , which refers to
a “higher power" or “power of the universe”, spirituality, or universal
power, and Ki , which refers to energy or life force.
These two words combined are defined as a spiritually guided energy, which
is the definition of Reiki.
The Origin of Reiki and How the Practice has Developed
The history of Reiki dates to ancient times, though the exact era or time
period is unknown.
In more recent history, between the mid-1800s and early 20th century, the
practice of Reiki was rediscovered and developed for modern use, as it is
applied today.

Dr. Usai, a Buddhist monk from Japan, studied the ancient practice,
discovering its benefits and developing Reiki further to enhance the benefits
on a spiritual, mental and physical level.
In just over a century, Reiki is performed all over the world, from its roots in
Japan to many countries across the globe, including western countries.
While many people may use Western-based medicine and treatments for a
variety of illnesses and chronic conditions, many people also look towards
Reiki and other forms of healing to strengthen their mind, body, and
spirituality through this practice.
How does Reiki develop?
Reiki is developed through training sessions or
classes, and a series of attunements.
There is a total of three levels of study in Reiki, which provides the
foundation for understanding its healing energy and how it is applied as a
therapy for yourself and others.

The power of Reiki develops over time, as it helps to clear and heal the
mind, allowing a stronger flow of positive energy to transfer from one place
or person to another.
For each level of Reiki, the student develops a deeper understanding and
connection with universal energy.
With each attunement, there is a stronger enhancement of that connection, and
while just one attunement can last for an indefinite length of time, some
students choose to remain longer for each level, to deepen their experience
and energy, either through more practice, additional attunements, or both.
Some people new to the practice, with little or no Reiki knowledge, may
choose to take the first level only, for their own benefit or self-practice.
For others, the practice of Reiki is much more, and progressing to the third or
master level is done with a great deal of passion and commitment.
Different Forms of Reiki
As Reiki developed over centuries, and within recent times, several forms of
the practice became popular, and are known by their specific style or name.
While all forms of Reiki are essentially the same in principle, the style and
methods in which it is practiced and treatment options used vary depending
on the specific type. The following types are most commonly known as the
following:
Jikiden Reiki
This is the most traditional and original form of Reiki practiced today.
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Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
fever in which my father lay; the good news was imparted to him in
one of his lucid intervals, and the crisis took a favorable turn. The
Christmas holy-days brought Elfie from her convent; and finally all
came together, awaiting my expected return. How that letter had
been kissed, petted, wept over, laughed over, spelt out inch by inch!
I wonder that a fragment of it remained; but even had it been worn
to dust by reverent fingers, it would not have mattered: the women
knew every word of it by heart. It formed the staple topic of
conversation whenever they met. There never yet was such a letter
written, and the idea that the writer of it should only receive ten
dollars—how much money was ten dollars?—a week was proof
positive that the American people did not appreciate true genius
when it found its way among them. Mr. Culpepper, indeed! Who
cared what he would think? The idea of a person of the name of
Culpepper having to do with men of genius! They wondered how I
could consent to write for such a person at all. And Mrs. Jinks! Good
gracious! that dreadful Mrs. Jinks and her “littery gents”; Mrs. Jinks
and the beefsteak; Mrs. Jinks and the pork chops; Mrs. Jinks and her
“mock turtle” soup; Mrs. Jinks and “her Jane,” etc. etc. Poor old
Roger! Poor, dear boy! How miserable it made them all, and yet how
absurdly ridiculous it all was. It made them laugh and cry in the
same breath.
What a hero I had become! What was all my fancied triumph to
this? What is all the success one can win in this world to the genuine
love and the foolish adoration of the two or three hearts that made
up our little world before we knew that great wide open beyond the
boundary of our own quiet garden? And all this fuss and affection
was poured out over me, who had run away from it, and thought of
it so little while I was away. It was, speaking reverently, like the
precious ointment in the alabaster vase, broken and poured out over
me, in the fond waste of love. Why, indeed, was this waste for me?
This ointment was precious, and might have been sold for many
pence and given to the poor—the poor of this great world, who were
hungering and thirsting after just such love as this, that we who
have it accept so placidly, and let it run and diffuse itself over us,
and take no care, for is not the source from which it comes
inexhaustible, as the widow’s cruse of oil? But so it is, and so it will
continue to be while human nature remains truly human nature. The
good shepherd, leaving the ninety-nine sheep, will go after the one
which was lost, and finding him, bear him on his own travel-weary
and travel-worn shoulders in triumph home. The father will kill the
fatted calf for the prodigal who has lived riotously and wasted his
inheritance, but the faint cry of whose repentant anguish is heard
from afar off. The mother’s heart will go out after the scapegrace
son who is tramping the world alone, turned out of doors for
misbehavior; and all the joy she feels in the good ones near her is as
nothing compared with the thought that he at last has come back,
sad and sorrowful and forlorn, to the home he left long ago, in the
brightness of the morning, with so gay a step and so light a heart. It
is unjust, frightfully unjust, that it should be so. Did not the good
son so feel it, and was his protest not right? Did not the laborers in
the vineyard so find it when those who came at the eleventh hour,
and had borne naught of the heat and the burden of the day,
received the same reward as they? And who shall say that the
laborers were not right and the lord of the vineyard unjust? What
trades-union could ever take into consideration such reasoning as
this, forbidden by the very book of arithmetic? Wait awhile, friends.
Some day when we, who now feel so keenly the injustice of it all,
are fathers and mothers, let us put the question then to ourselves:
“Why this waste of precious ointment on one who values it not? I
will seal up the alabaster jar, let the ointment harden into stone, and
no sweetness shall flow out of it.” Do so—if you can, and the world
will be a very barren place. It would dry and shrivel up under arid
justice. Did not the Master tell us so? Did he not say that he came to
call not the just but sinners to repentance? And is it not this very
injustice that makes earth likest heaven, where we are told there
shall be more joy over one sinner doing penance than over the
ninety-nine just who need not penance?
And here am I preaching, instead of spending my Christmas
merrily like a man. But the thought of all this affection wasted on so
callous a wretch as I had proved myself to be, was too tempting to
let pass. Suddenly the chimes rang out from the old steeples, and
we were silent, listening with softened hearts and moistening eyes.
“There is another surprise for you yet,” said Mrs. Goodal,
mysteriously. “Come, I want to show you your room.”
She took me upstairs, paused a moment at the door to whisper:
“It has another Occupant now, Kenneth. Go in and visit him,” opened
the door and pushed me gently in.
The room was lighted only by a little lamp, through which a low
flame burned with a rosy glow. The flame flickered and shone on an
altar with a small tabernacle, before which Father Fenton was
kneeling in silent prayer. My old room had been converted into a
chapel, and there they had knelt and prayed for me. Presently the
chapel was lighted up, and my father was assisted to a chair that
had been prepared for him. Mr. Goodal took up his position near a
harmonium, in one corner, while I retired into the other. One or two
of the household came in and took their places quietly. Father
Fenton rose up, and, assisted by Kenneth, vested himself, and the
midnight Mass began. Soon the harmonium was heard, and then in
tones that trembled at first, but in a moment cleared and grew firm
and strong and glorious, Elfie, laughing Elfie, who now seemed
transformed into one of those angels who brought the glad tidings
long, long ago, burst forth into the Adeste Fideles.

“Natum videte
Regem angelorum.”

All present joined in the refrain, Nellie’s sweet voice mingling with
the strong, manly tones of Kenneth. I saw his face light up as a
soldier’s of old might at a battle cry. How happy are the earnest!
Before the Mass was ended, Father Fenton turned and spoke a
few words:
 “One of old said, ‘When two or three are gathered together in my
name, there am I in the midst of them.’ I need not point out to you
the solemn manner in which a few moments since he who made
that promise fulfilled it, for he has spoken to your own hearts. But I
would call your attention to the wonderful and special manner in
which Christ has visited and blessed the two or three gathered
together here this night in his name. We are here like the shepherds
of old, come to adore the Christ born in a manger. One by one have
we dropped in, taken in hand and led gently, as though by the Lord
himself. This great grace has not been given us for nothing. It has
been the answer to fervent, earnest, and unceasing prayer, which,
though it may sometimes seem to knock at the gates of heaven a
long while in vain, has been heard all the while, and at length,
entering in, falls back on our hearts laden with gifts and with graces.
The two or three have increased now by one, now by another, and
under Providence are destined to increase until the Master calls
them away unto himself. Happy is the one who comes himself to
Christ, thrice happy he who helps to lead another! He it is who
answers that bitter cry of anguish that rang out from the darkness
and the suffering of Calvary—‘I thirst.’ He holds up the chalice to the
lips of the dying Saviour filled with the virtues of a saved soul. It was
for souls Christ thirsted, and he gives him to drink. But when a
conversion is wrought, when a stray sheep is brought into the fold,
the work is only begun. All the debt is not paid. It is well to be filled
with gratitude for the wonderful favor of God in bringing us out of
the land of Egypt and the house of bondage into the land flowing
with milk and honey, where the good shepherd attends his sheep,
where we draw water from the living fountain. We have left behind
us the fleshpots of Egypt. But there is ingratitude to be remembered
and wiped out. Many weary years have we wandered in desert
places seeking rest and finding none. Yet the voice of the shepherd
was calling to us all the while. Peace, peace, peace! Peace to men of
good-will has been ringing out of the heavens over the mountains of
this world these long centuries, yet how many ears are deaf to the
angels’ song! The star in the East has arisen, has moved in the
heavens, and stood over his cradle—the star of light and of
knowledge—yet how many eyes have been blind to its lustre and its
meaning. It is because it points to a lowly place. In Bethlehem of
Judæa Christ is born, not in the city of the king; in a stable, not in
the palace of Herod; in a manger he is laid, wrapped in swaddling-
clothes, not in the purple of royalty. He is lowly; we would be great.
He is meek; we would be proud. He is a little innocent child; we
would be wise among the children of men. The birth-place of
Christianity is humility. We must begin there, low down, for he
himself has said it: ‘Suffer little children to come unto me’; ‘Unless ye
become as one of these little ones, ye shall not enter the kingdom of
heaven.’
“My brethren, my dear children, little flock whom Christ has visited
really and truly in his body and blood, soul and divinity, this is our
lesson—to be humble as he is. In this was his church founded on
this memorable night, at this solemn hour, while day and night are in
conflict. The day dawned on the new birth and the night was left for
ever behind. There is no longer excuse for being children of the
darkness, for the light of the world has dawned at length. It dawned
in lowliness, poverty, suffering—these are its surroundings. Christ’s
first worshippers on this earth were the one who bore him and her
spouse, Joseph the carpenter. His second, the poor shepherds,
whose watchful ears heard first the song of peace. The kings from
afar off followed who were looking and praying for light from
heaven, and it came. The angels guided the ignorant shepherds to
where he lay; but of those to whom more was given, more was
expected. The gifts of intellect, learning, and the spirit of inquiry are
gifts of God, not of man, or of Satan. They are to be used for God,
not sharpened against him. Happy are those to whom he has given
them, who, like the Kings of the East, though far away from the
lowly place where he lies, hearken to the voice of God calling to
them over the wildernesses that intervene, and make answer to the
divine call. Search in the right spirit—search in the spirit of humility,
and honesty, and truth. To them will the star of Truth appear to
guide them aright over many dangers and difficulties, and disasters
mayhap, to the stable where Christ is sleeping, to lay at his feet the
gifts and offerings he gave them—the gold of faith, the frankincense
of hope, the myrrh of charity.”
I suppose it is intended that sermons should apply to all who hear
them. That being the case, how could Father Fenton’s words apply
to me? There was not a single direct allusion to me throughout.
What he said might apply equally to all, and yet surely of all there I
was the most guilty. I alone did not adore; and why? After all, was
humility the birthplace of Christianity? But was not I humble as the
rest of them? “You! who are so fond of mounting those stilts,”
whispered Roger Herbert senior—“you, who spend your days and
nights dreaming of the divinus afflatus—you, who would give half
your life, were it yours to give, to convert those little stilts into a
genuine monument, and for what purpose? That men might point
and look up at the dizzy height and say, Behold Roger Herbert, the
mighty, his feet on earth, his head among the gods of heaven!” And
was it true that Truth had been speaking all this time, all these
centuries, to so little purpose? Why was it? how could it be if the
voice was divine? “The devil, the world, and the flesh, Roger; forget
not the devil, the world, and the flesh. Were there only truth, we
should all be of one mind; but unfortunately, truth is confronted with
falsehood.” What is truth—what is truth? Ay, the old agony of the
world. One alone of all that world dared to tell us that he was the
Truth, he was the Way, he was the Life. “Let us find him, Roger.
Father Fenton says he is in the midst of those gathered together in
his name.”
Christmas passed, and a New Year dawned on us—a happy new
year to all except myself. I was the only unhappy being at the
Grange. Elfie went back to her convent school. My father’s health
was on the high road to restoration, and the growing attachment
between Kenneth and Nellie was evident even to my purblind vision.
Strange to say, I did not like to talk to Kenneth as openly as at first
about my doubts and difficulties, and Father Fenton’s company,
when alone, I avoided, although he was the most amiable of men,
gifted with wit softened by piety, and a learning that not even his
modesty could conceal. He must have observed how studiously I
shunned him, for, after seeking ineffectually once or twice to draw
me into serious conversation, he refrained, and only spoke on
ordinary topics. I began to grow restless again.
The season had advanced into an early spring; the green was
already abroad and the birds beginning to come, when one
afternoon, that seemed to have strayed out of summer, so soft and
balmy was the air, Nellie and I sat together out on the lawn as in the
old days. My father was taking a nap within; the Goodals had driven
to Gnaresbridge to meet a friend whom they expected to pass by
the up-town train to London. Nellie was working at something, and I
was musing in silence. Suddenly she said:
“Roger, do you remember the promises you made me the night
before you ran away?”
“Yes, Fairy.”
“Well, sir?”
“Well, madam?”
“Is that all?”
“Is what all?”
“Do you only remember your promise?”
“Is not that a great deal?”
“No; unless you have kept it.”
“Ah—h—h!”
“What do you mean by ah—h?”
“What did I promise?”
“That from that day forward you would not only try not to do
harm, but to do some good for others as well as for yourself.”
“That is a very big promise.”
“No bigger now than it was then.”
 “But it means more now than it did then.”
“Not a bit, not a bit, not a bit!”
“Things look to me so differently now. One grows so much older in
a year sometimes.”
“Then you have not kept your promise? O Roger!”
“Good, though you can spell it in four letters, is a very large word,
Nellie, and means so much; and others mean so many. Not to do
much harm is one thing; but to do good, not once in a while, but to
be constant in it—that is another thing, Nellie, and that was what I
promised. That promise I cannot say I have kept.”
Nellie bent her head lower over her work, and I believe I saw
some tears fall, but she said nothing. I went on:
“Now Kenneth does good.”
There was no mistake about the tears this time, although the
head bent a little lower still. “Kenneth does a great deal of good. He
goes about among the poor as regularly as a physician, and
whatever his medicine may be it seems to do them more good than
any they can get at the druggist’s. He has sent I don’t know how
many youngsters off to school, where he pays for them. In fact, he
seems to me to be always scheming and thinking about others and
never dreaming of himself, whereas I am always scheming and
thinking about myself and never seem to see anybody else in the
world. Why, what are you doing with that stuff in your hands, Nellie?
You are sewing it anyhow.”
“O Roger! You—you—” she could say no more, but hid her face,
that was rosy and pure as the dawn, on my breast.
“A very pretty picture,” said a deep voice behind us, and Nellie
started away from me, while all the blood rushed back to her heart.
She was so white that Kenneth—for it was he who had stolen up
unobserved at the moment—was frightened, and said:
 “Pardon me, Miss Herbert, if I have startled you. I have only this
instant come, and quite forgot that the grass silenced the sound of
my footsteps. Take this chair—shall I bring a glass of water?”
“No, thank you; I am better now. It was only a moment. We did
not hear you.”
“May I join you, then? Or was it a tête-à-tête?”
“No; sit down, Kenneth. The fact is, we were just discussing the
character of an awful scamp.”
“Who arrived just too late to hear any evil of himself—is that it?”
“No, he was here all the time,” said Nellie, laughing, and herself
again.
“But what brings you from Gnaresbridge so soon, Kenneth, and all
alone? Where have you left Mr. and Mrs. Goodal?”
“Mrs. Goodal had some shopping to do at Gnaresbridge, and Mr.
Goodal, as in duty bound, waited patiently the results of that
interesting operation. His patience makes me blush for mine. The
shopping is such a very extensive operation that I preferred a walk
back, and even now you see I have arrived before them.”
“How very ungallant, Mr. Goodal! I am surprised at you. I thought
Roger was the only gentleman who didn’t like shopping.”
“On the contrary, I am quite fond of it. I used to do all my own
shopping in New York. I got Mrs. Jinks to buy me some things once,
but as she, woman-like, measured everybody by Mr. Jinks, the
articles, though an excellent fit for him, were an abomination on
me.”
“And what did you do with them?”
“What could I do with them? Gave them to Mrs. Jinks, of course,
and for the future did my own shopping. Indeed, I am getting quite
lazy here. There is nothing for a fellow to do—is there, Kenneth?”
“I was thinking of that as I came along.”
 “Thinking of what?”
“The great puzzle—What to do. I put it in every imaginable form.
The question was this: ‘Kenneth Goodal, what are you going to do
with yourself?’ and the whole eight miles passed before I could
arrive at anything like a satisfactory conclusion. I finally resolved to
leave the question to arbitration, and get others to decide for me. I
have already applied to one.”
He paused, and his gaze was fixed on the ground. His face was
flushed, and his broad brow knitted as though trying to find the right
clue to a puzzling query. I glanced at Nellie, and observed that her
face had whitened again, while her eyes were also bent upon the
ground, and her breath came and went painfully.
“Yes,” he went on without raising his head—Nellie was seated
between us—“I determined to leave my case to arbitration. Your
father was one of the arbiters; you were to be another, Roger; and a
certain young lady was to be a third. I had intended to attack the
members of this high court of arbitration singly; but as I find two of
them here together, I see no reason why I should not receive my
verdict at once.. ..”
A further report of this most important and interesting case it is
not for me to give, inasmuch as I was not present. I saw at once
that the decision rested now with the third arbiter, and that my
opinion was practically valueless in the matter. How the case
proceeded I cannot tell. Thinking that there was little for me to do,
and how deeply engaged were the other two parties, I took
advantage of the noiseless grass to slink away without attracting the
attention of either, heartily ashamed of myself for being so persistent
an intruder where it was clear I was not particularly wanted. It was
a lovely evening, and I took a long quiet ramble all by myself. How
much longer the court was in session I do not know, I only know
that it was broken up before I entered, just in time for dinner. I
noticed that in my father’s eyes there was a softer look than usual;
that Mrs. Goodal took Nellie’s place at table, opposite to my father;
that Mr. Goodal and myself were neighbors, while opposite to us sat
the adjourned court of arbitration, looking—looking as young
persons look only once in their lives. There was a rather awkward
silence on my entrance, which I found so unpleasant that I rattled
away all through dinner. I must have been excellent company for
once in my life; for though at this moment I do not recollect a single
sentence that I uttered, there was so much laughter throughout the
dinner, laughter that grew and grew until we found ourselves all
talking at length, all joining in, all joking, all so merry that we were
astounded to find how the evening had passed. My father looked
quite young again.
As I was retiring to my own room for the night, Nellie caught me,
put both her arms around my neck, and looked up into my eyes a
long time without saying a word, until at last she seemed to find in
them something she was looking for, and when, kissing her, I asked
if I should blow the candle out again, as I did on a former
memorable confession, she flew away, her face lost amid blushes,
laughter, and tears. I was congratulating myself on seeing an end to
a long day, when a guilty tap came to my door, and Kenneth stole in
with the air of a burglar who purposed making for the first valuable
he could lay hands on, and vanishing with it through the window. He
closed the door as cautiously as though a policeman, whom he
feared to disturb, was napping without, and sat down without saying
a word. I looked at the ceiling; he sat and stared at me. In his turn,
he began examining my eyes. I could bear it no longer, but burst out
laughing, and held out my hand, which he almost crushed in his.
“You are as true a knight as ever was old Sir Roger,” said Kenneth,
wringing my hand till I cried out with pain. “I went on talking for I
don’t know how long, and saying I forget now what, but, on looking
up, I found there was only one listener. Well, we did without you.”
“So now you know what to do with yourself. Happy man! What a
pity Elfie is only fourteen! She might tell me what to do with Roger
Herbert.”
I saw the two who, after my father, I loved the best in all the
world made one. I waited until they returned from the bridal trip, by
which time my father was fully restored to health. We spent that
season in London, and when it was over returned to Leighstone. The
brown hand of autumn was touching the woods, when one morning
I began packing my trunk again, and that same evening ate my last
dinner at the Grange. It was not a pleasant dinner. The ladies were
in tears at times, and the gentlemen were inclined to be taciturn. I
did my best to rally the party as on a former occasion, but the effort
was not very successful.
“Oh! you are all Sybarites here,” was my closing rejoinder to all
queries, tears, and complaints; “and I should never do anything
among you. Not so fortunate as Kenneth, who has found some one
to tell him what to do with himself, I am driven back on my own
resources, and must work out that interesting problem for myself. I
was advancing in that direction when called away. I go back to
resume my labors in the old way. You cannot realize the delicious
feeling that comes over one at times who is struggling all alone, and
groping in the darkness towards a great light that he sees afar off
and hopes to reach. I leave my father with a better son than I, and
my sister with something that even sisters prefer to brothers. I am
only restless here. There is work to be done beyond there. I may be
making a mistake: if so, I shall come back and let you know.”

AN OLD IRISH TOUR.

It was the long vacation in Dublin, 186-. Summer reigned supreme
over the Irish capital. The long, bright afternoons, still and drowsy,
seemed never to have an end. The soft azure overhead, so different
from our deep blue skies, was whole days without a cloud—rare
phenomenon in Irish weather. It was hot. The leaves drooped and
the insects hummed, till I, a solitary American student, holding my
chambers in college for a couple of weeks after all others had left—
waiting for some friends to make up a party for the seaside—began
to think of the fierce blaze of the Broadway pavement in July. The
four o’clock promenade on Grafton and Westmoreland streets
seemed almost abandoned by the tall, fresh-colored Dublin belles;
and even the military band on Wednesday afternoons in Merrion
square drew few listeners. It was dull as well as hot.
Taking down volume after volume at a venture from the shelves of
the house library, I happened on Arthur Young’s Tour in Ireland in
1776-9. I opened it at the account of his visit to the Dargle. I had
not yet visited the glen, and was interested by his description.
“What!” said I, laying the book open on my knee, “shall I stay here
broiling for another week? I will run down to Bray and Wicklow for a
day or two, and have a look at the lions.” From my windows every
morning I used to look out at the distant hills, till they seemed to me
like old acquaintances. The next day I started. The trip is still a
pleasant one in my memory; but it is not of my own short Wicklow
tour I am going to write, although in these fast days it also might
now be called ancient.
This was my first acquaintance with Arthur Young’s celebrated
Tour. Not long ago I met with his work again. It was a copy of the
second edition, “printed by H. Goldney for T. Cadell in the Strand,
mdcclxxx.” I recognized my old friend at a glance. The quaint
engraving of the “Waterfall at Powerscourt, I. Taylor, sculp.,”
renewed old associations, and led to a second and more attentive
reading.
Although Young’s works are still the standard authority on the
agricultural condition of England and Ireland, one hundred years
ago, recognized in those countries, he is not so well known on this
side of the water, and a few facts concerning his life and writings
may be given. He was born in 1741. He was the son of the Rev.
Arthur Young, rector of Bradford, and sometime chaplain to Speaker
Onslow. His father was noted for some fierce blasts against “Popery,”
but our author, in many passages of a just and humane spirit, shows
that he did not imbibe the iconoclast zeal of Arthur Young the elder.
His works are voluminous, comprised in twenty volumes. They relate
almost exclusively to the state of agriculture in the two kingdoms
and in France. His Travels in the East, West, and North of England,
in Wales, in Ireland, and in France, and his Political Economy, are
the chief titles. But Arthur Young was more than a practical farmer,
honorable as that vocation is. He was a man of liberal education and
cultivated taste, and his works often rise above the dull level of the
fields and are pervaded with a true Virgilian flavor. They have been
warmly praised by such widely different authorities as McCulloch, De
Tocqueville, and the Times Commissioner in 1869; and Miss
Edgeworth, herself now grown a little antiquated, says of his Tour in
Ireland: “It was the first faithful portrait of its inhabitants.” Arthur
Young died in 1820. An extended but not complete list of his works
will be found in Allibone.
Young had a high but well-grounded idea of the place that
agriculture holds in the economy of the state.

“The details,” he says, “of common management are

dry and unentertaining; nor is it easy to render them
interesting by ornaments of style. The tillage with
which the peasant prepares the ground; the manner
with which he fertilizes it; the quantities of the seed of
the several species of grain which he commits to it;
and the products that repay his industry, necessarily in
the recital run into chains of repetition which tire the
ear, and fatigue the imagination. Great, however, is the
structure raised on this foundation; it may be dry, but
it is important, for these are the circumstances upon
which depend the wealth, prosperity, and power of
nations. The minutiæ of the farmer’s management, low
and seemingly inconsiderable as he is, are so many
links of a chain which connect him with the state.
Kings ought not to forget that the splendor of majesty
is derived from the sweat of industrious and too often
oppressed peasants. The rapacious conqueror who
destroys and the great statesman who protects
 humanity, are equally indebted for their power to the
care with which the farmer cultivates his fields. The
monarch of these realms must know, when he is
sitting on his throne at Westminster, surrounded by
nothing but state and magnificence, that the poorest,
the most oppressed, the most unhappy peasant, in the
remotest corner of Ireland, contributes his share to the
support of the gaiety that enlivens and the splendor
that adorns the scene.”

Our author, it will be seen, lived close enough to the great Dr.
Johnson to catch something of the swelling and sonorous rotundity
of style which he impressed upon the Georgian era. And, in truth,
there is a weighty and nervous energy about the prose writing of
that age which contrasts, not to our advantage, with the extenuated
and sharply accented style of our day.
The careful investigation of his special study led Young into minute
inquiries and much experimental journalizing, into which it would not
be possible or even desirable for us to follow him. We shall therefore
content ourselves with a notice of his more general observations in
the character of tourist.
Arthur Young started from Holyhead for Dunleary—as Kingstown
was then called, before the “First Gentleman in Europe” set his
august foot upon its quay—on the 19th of June, 1776. What a
tremendous turn of the wheel has the world taken since then! These
colonies had just plunged slowly but resolutely into that great
struggle for independence, the centennial commemoration of which
we shall celebrate next year. Progress in Ireland, though not so
radical, has been such as would have been derided as a day-dream
by the generation then living. In the arts and sciences the advance
has been as amazing as in politics. As we read of Young’s tedious
passage of twenty-two hours on board the small sailing packet of
those days, we take in at a glance the difference of times which has
substituted for those “Dutch clippers” the magnificent steamships
which now make the passage between those ports with undeviating
regularity in four hours.
Young’s tour was made under the auspices of the English Board of
Agriculture. It was his intention to make a complete survey of the
state of the art in the island. He complains, however, of the want of
encouragement his project met with in England; the Earl of
Shelburne, “Edmund Burke, Esq.,” and a few others being the only
persons of eminence who took the trouble to interest themselves in
the undertaking. “Indeed,” says our author, commenting on this
indifference, “there are too many possessors of great estates in
Ireland who wish to know nothing more of it than the collection of
their rents”—a remark which has not lost its force in our own day.
The reception he met with in Dublin, however, when the purpose
of his visit became known, seems to have compensated him for the
coldness he had experienced on the other side of the Channel. The
most distinguished persons of the Irish capital—a title then to some
extent real—warmly encouraged him in his project, treated him with
true Irish hospitality in their own houses, and provided him with
letters of introduction to facilitate his inquiries. Thus equipped,
Young felt sure of bringing his undertaking to a successful issue; nor
did he disappoint his subscribers. But before going further, let us
first note his impressions of the capital.
Dublin exceeded his anticipations. Its public buildings, which still
recall its old glories to the Irish-American tourist, “are,” he says,
“magnificent; very many of the streets regularly laid out, and
exceedingly well built.” The Parliament House, within the walls of
which Grattan and Flood were then exerting their growing powers,
attracted his admiration, although some of its architectural features
seemed to him open to criticism. Young found the subject of Union
an unpopular one wherever broached, and, although an advocate of
the scheme, does not appear to have imagined that in a little over
twenty years the doors of the Parliament House would be closed
upon the representatives of Ireland. The cold and business-like
precincts of the Bank of Ireland, as the building is now called, make
stronger by contrast the recollection of the fervid eloquence once
heard within its walls. Young attended the debates frequently; but,
whether it was from English phlegm, or perhaps it would be more
just to him to say, from the recollection of the transcendent powers
of Burke and Chatham, he does not appear to have been carried
away by the perfervidum ingenium of the Irish orators. After naming
Mr. Daly, Mr. Flood (who had dropped out of the scene), Mr. Grattan,
Serjeant Burgh, and others, he says: “I heard many eloquent
speeches, but I cannot say they struck me like the exertion of the
abilities of Irishmen in the English House of Commons.”
Young’s opinion of the musical talent of Dublin would be apt also
to excite the ire of its present opera-goers. No city in the United
Kingdom flatters itself more upon its correct musical taste and warm
encouragement of talent. But this is what our unabashed tourist
says: “An ill-judged and unsuccessful attempt was made to establish
the Italian opera, which existed but with scarce any life for this one
winter; of course, they could rise no higher than a comic one. ‘La
Buona Figliuola,’ ‘La Frascatana,’ and ‘Il Geloso in Cimento’ were
repeatedly performed, or rather murdered, except the part of
Sestini. The house was generally empty and miserably cold.” This is
no doubt an honest description of the fortunes of the opera in his
day, but those who have witnessed the successive appearances of
Grisi, of Piccolomini (in light rôles), of Titjens, and Patti will not
accuse a modern Dublin audience of want of sympathy.
Dublin, always a gay city socially, was enlivened in Young’s day by
the presence of a larger resident aristocracy than ever since. The
greater power and state of the “Castle” before the Union, the
splendid hospitality of the old Irish nobility, the beauty of its fair
dames—the toast of more than one court, the gallant, open-handed
manners of the native landed gentry, made it then one of the most
brilliant capitals in Europe. Young supposes the common
computation of its inhabitants, two hundred thousand, to be
exaggerated; he thinks one hundred and forty or one hundred and
fifty thousand would be nearer the mark. Although Dublin, to-day,
nearly if not quite doubles the latter figures, and in countless ways
shares in the general progress of the age, she misses the
independent spirit her native parliament gave her, and which filled
the smaller city of the last century with an exuberant life that is now
absent in her streets and along her quays.
Young thus sums up his observations on the city: “From
everything I saw, I was struck with all those appearances of wealth
which the capital of a thriving community may be supposed to
exhibit. Happy if I find through the country in diffused prosperity the
right source of this splendor!” Whatever the gaiety of the capital, the
impartial observer, as Young himself soon found, could not fail to
note through the country, notwithstanding some gleams of better
times, the fixed wretchedness of a whole people, bowed down under
the yoke of those penal laws the unspeakable horror of which no
later English legislation, however beneficent, can ever redeem. But
the native buoyancy of the Irish character was well exemplified in
the comparatively cheerful and quiescent spirit with which they bore
their hard lot in the breathing space, if one may so term it, between
1750 and 1770. For some years previous to Young’s Tour, the
general state of the country, contrasted with what it had been
seventy years previously, was what might almost be called
prosperous. The population was increasing, and was not suffering
from want of food; and the penal laws in some instances were
allowed to fall into abeyance. The country was comparatively free
from agrarian disturbances. Whiteboys and “Hearts of Steel” had
sprung up in some counties after Thurot’s landing in 1759, but were
quickly suppressed; their indiscriminate attacks upon private
property in some instances causing the Catholic country people to
rise against them. The trade of Ireland was still oppressed by the
English prohibitory laws, but some mitigation had been granted; and
in 1778 the threatening attitude of the Irish Volunteers at last wrung
a tardy measure of justice from the English government. The value
of land in many counties had more than doubled in the previous
thirty years. Much of this rise in value was undoubtedly due to
natural causes—improved and extended cultivation, and the increase
of population—but it is plain from Young’s testimony, without going
to Catholic contemporary evidence, that the rents were raised
artificially in numberless cases by the grinding agents of the
absentee landlords. The Irish woollen trade had been annihilated by
English monopoly. The manufacture of linen, which was at its height
in 1770, had greatly declined in consequence of the American
difficulties, but was beginning to revive a little. The effect of the war
had also been to check the emigration, which was chiefly confined,
however, to the North. Young gave particular attention to this
subject, noting down the emigration in each parish he visited; and
the result of his observations is summed up in these words: “The
spirit of emigrating in Ireland appeared to be confined to two
circumstances, the Presbyterian religion and the linen manufacture. I
heard of very few emigrants except among the manufacturers of
that persuasion.” This remark has of course been completely nullified
in later years by the famine and continued misgovernment, which at
last, breaking down the Irishman’s strong love of home, have sent
him forth as a wanderer, but, in the designs of Providence, to carry
with him his faith and build up a greater Catholic Church in America
—happy also in the country and the laws which enable him by his
own exertions to gain a position equal to any other citizen’s, and to
throw off that poverty and servility which too often weighed down
his spirit at home.
On the whole, then, it may be said that the time of Arthur Young’s
visit was a favorable one, if any time might be accounted favorable
in that long night of oppression which was still brooding over
Ireland, and which had yet to reach its darkest hour before the first
faint streaks of dawn gladdened the eyes of its weary watchers. The
country was just touching on that short period of flickering
prosperity, culminating in the assertion of its constitutional
independence in 1782, but destined to set in fire and blood in the
tragedy of ’98 and the ill-starred Union of 1800.
Leaving Dublin, Young first made a short tour through Meath and
Westmeath, returning by way of Carlow, Wexford, and Wicklow to
the capital before entering on his more extensive circuit of the
island. In this first excursion he at once exhibits the plan of his
journal, noting down with minuteness the character of the soil, the
course of the crops, the nature of the tenancy, and the condition of
the people. Potatoes were the great article of culture, alternating
with barley, oats, and wheat. Much of the best land was given to
grazing. The average rent of the county of Westmeath, exclusive of
waste, was nine shillings—including it, seven shillings; but in this, as
in the other counties near Dublin, the best land let from twenty
shillings to as high as thirty-five shillings sterling an acre. The rise in
the price of labor for ten years was from fivepence and sevenpence
to eightpence and tenpence per day, but the laborers worked harder
and better. Women got eightpence a day in harvest. Lands in general
were leased to Protestants for thirty-one years or three lives, but
Catholics were in almost all cases at the mercy of their landlords.
The law allowing Catholics to hold leases for lives was not yet
passed. June 28th, he notes:

“Took the road to Summerhill, the seat of the Right

Hon. H. L. Rowley; the country cheerful and rich; and
if the Irish cabins continue like what I have seen, I
shall not hesitate to pronounce their inhabitants as
well off as most English cottagers. They are built of
mud walls, eighteen inches or two feet thick, and well
thatched, which are far warmer than the thin clay walls
in England. Here are few cottars without a cow, and
some of them two, a bellyful invariably of potatoes,
and generally turf for fuel from a bog. It is true they
have not always chimneys to their cabins, the door
serving for that and window too; if their eyes are not
affected with the smoke it may be an advantage in
warmth. Every cottage swarms with poultry, and most
of them have pigs. Land lets at twenty shillings an
acre, which is the average rent of the whole county of
Meath to the occupier, but if the tenures of middlemen
are included it is not above fourteen shillings. This
intermediate tenant between landlord and occupier is
 very common here. The farmers are very much
improved in their circumstances since about the year
1752.”

Although we may partially agree in Arthur Young’s opinion that

some amelioration was visible in the material surroundings of the
Irish peasant during the quarter of a century preceding his visit, no
equal concession can be made regarding his political rights. These
remained absolutely nil. The comparative tranquillity that prevailed
was the lethargy not the security of freedom. In a slightly altered
sense might have been uttered of the whole nation what Hussey
Burgh said of a year or two later, referring more particularly to the
Volunteers: “Talk not to me,” he exclaimed, “of peace; it is not
peace, but smothered war!”
Contrasted with this description of the cabins of the peasantry, the
following account of an Irish nobleman’s country mansion in the
same county one hundred years ago will be found interesting.
Headfort is still one of the principal residences in that part of the
country:

“July 1st: Reached Lord Bective’s in the evening

through a very fine country, particularly that part of it
from which is a prospect of his extensive woods. No
person could with more readiness give me every sort
of information than his lordship. The improvements at
Headfort must be astonishing to those who knew the
place seventeen years ago, for then there were neither
building, walling, nor plantations; at present almost
everything is created necessary to form a considerable
residence. The house and offices are new-built. It is a
large plain stone edifice. The body of the house 145
feet long, and the wings each 180. The hall is 31½ by
24, and 17 high. The saloon of the same dimensions;
on the left of which is a dining-room 48 by 24, and 24
high. From the thickness of the walls, I suppose it is
 the custom to build very substantially here. The
grounds fall agreeably in front of the house to a
winding narrow vale, which is filled with wood, where
also is a river which Lord Bective intends to enlarge.
And on the other side, the lawn spreads over a large
extent, and is everywhere bounded by large
plantations. To the right the town of Kells,
picturesquely situated among groups of trees, with a
fine waving country and distant mountains; to the left,
a rich tract of cultivation. Besides these numerous
plantations, considerable mansion, and an incredible
quantity of walling, his lordship has walled in 26 acres
for a garden and nursery, and built six or seven large
pineries, each 90 feet long. He has built a farm-yard
280 feet square, surrounded with offices of various
kinds.”

July 4th, there is an entry of interest, as showing the position of

Catholic tenants at that day even under the best landlords. Young
was then a guest of Lord Longford’s at Packenham Hall. We give the
passage in his own words, as it is a favorable index to our author’s
character:

“Lord Longford carried me to Mr. Marly, an improver

in the neighborhood, who has done great things, and
without the benefit of such leases as Protestants in
Ireland commonly have. He rents 1,000 acres; at first,
it was twentypence an acre; in the next term, five
shillings, or two hundred and fifty pounds a year; and
he now pays eight hundred and fifty pounds a year for
it. Almost the whole farm is mountain land; the
spontaneous growth, heath, etc.; he has improved 500
acres.… It was with regret I heard the rent of a man
who had been so spirited an improver should be raised
so exceedingly. He merited for his life the returns of
 his industry. But the cruel laws against the Roman
Catholics of this country remain the marks of illiberal
barbarism. Why should not the industrious man have a
spur to his industry, whatever be his religion; and what
industry is to be expected from them in a country
where leases for lives are general among Protestants,
if secluded from terms common to every one else?
What mischiefs could flow from letting them have
leases for life? None; but much good in animating their
industry. It is impossible that the prosperity of a nation
should have its natural progress where four-fifths of
the people are cut off from those advantages which
are heaped upon the domineering aristocracy of the
small remainder.”

Young made many inquiries here concerning the state of the

“lower” classes, and found that in some respects they were in good
circumstances, in others indifferent. They had, generally speaking,
plenty of potatoes, enough flax for all their linen, most of them a
cow and some two, and spun wool enough for their clothes; all, a
pig, and quantities of poultry. Fuel, and fish from the neighboring
lakes, were also plenty.

“Reverse the medal,” says Young: “they are ill

clothed, make a wretched appearance, and, what is
worse, are much oppressed by many, who make them
pay too dear for keeping a cow, horse, etc. They have
a practice also of keeping accounts with the laborers,
contriving by that means to let the poor wretches have
very little cash for their year’s work. This is a great
oppression; farmers and gentlemen keeping accounts
with the poor is a cruel abuse. So many days’ work for
a cabin—so many for a potato garden—so many for
keeping a horse—and so many for a cow, are clear
accounts which a poor man can understand; but
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