THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE CELT.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume II, Issue 70, 29 August 1874, Page 12

THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE CELT.

Awat where the fiery Southern sun looks down upon the rushing str«ame and dense forests of Tasmania-where the .Himalayas *o&v to heaven, and the waters of the Ganges roll-where to**!**™**'***in* time, still cast their shadows on the land of the Pharaohs—by the northern Steppes, on the shores of tho Euxine, or where arise the nun•retain the oresent-orowned city of the Sultan— there, imprinted in tho soil, carved on the rock of time, distinct and ineffaceable, are ♦raced the footsteps of the- Irishman. Where gleam the spires of MonUrey, in the land of the Montezumas— where the mighty Amazon rushes to the embrace of the «ea— where the fierce hurricane sweep* over the Western prairie, or fair winds fill the sails of commerce on the boeom of the Northern lakes— there are found the ready hand and the fearless heart of the child of Erin. Wherever the embattled hosts of Tyranny were trampled down— wherever tho flag of Liberty was unfurled— wherever the hired mercenaries of a despot dared to trample on a people's rights— there flashed the fiery sword, there glowed the heroic heart, there waved the glorious flag of the unconquered Celt. That flak has fluttered amjd the glare of battle, with victory on its folds from the Scheldt to the Potomac, from Fontenoy to Fredericksbureh. In America, ob in Europe, it has led the forlorn hope— first in the vanguard, last in the retreat, and never yet has dishonor or shame sullied its green folds. In their own laud, denied the rights of freemen, ground down to the earth by a mighty, mercilesi enemy, the sons of Ireland seek in other climes that reward for their genius and enterprise, which a tyrant power denies them at home. And wherever art rears her highest temple.— wherever science surmounts the most formidable barriws, there is found the busy brain, the unerring skill of the Irish workman. Tho voice of the Celt i» heard m song from the •unny slopes of his natire mountains to the uttermost snds of the earth. "Xal,a Bookh" is snng by the Arabs of the desert, and the writer of this article has heard "The Harp that one. through Taw is Hair sung in the forests of Canada around an Indian camp fire. Ike immortal melodies of Moore are known as far as civilisation extends, •nd are sung in the lady's boudoir as well as in the cot of the peasant. Aud who has not heard the glorious music of Ireland ? On the marcb, in the camp, in the bivouac, and on the battle-field it soothes, respites, invigorates the soldier, and he rushes to death as fearlessly to the strains of " Garryowen" »» he would to a dance in his mative village. ' The round towers of his country stand to-day, solid as the mountains that overshadow them, to attest to the world the genius, the enterprise, and the glory of ancient Ireland. The sun row, and his rays illuminated thoie Irish towers 3000 years ago. He sets to-night, but ere be sinks to rest, his bright beams fall and guild those very towers raised by our Celtic sires, when earth was young, when time was but a babe. Tadmor is gone, Baalbeo is in ruins, the Coliseum is but a decayed relic j they have outlived them all, and were, perhaps, in being before Cheops designed his first Egyptian pyramid. The impassioned Celt, no mutter where he treads, looks back with love to these old towers, the greon hill*, aud the ruined abbeys of his own fair land. They linger in his memory, and mingle with his dreams. Ihe beauty of Italy, the grandeur of Niagara, or the sublimity of the Alpine Mils cunnot edacc them. Lneting is the love, and fond the affection that breathes and burns in the Celtic soul. Scattered over the earth, " far its the breeze cun soar or ocean loum," they wander. In the logbuilt cot by the St. Lawrence, or in the imperial halls of the great and mighty ones of earth, that love is stiil the same. And never did the children of Israel yearn to salute their new-built Zion with a more holy love— never did the wandering tribes with more glowing ardour -lon* for a glimpse of the promised land than do the exiled children of Kriii long for tne day, when, gathered from the shores of the four seas, they shall return, and etaud on their native soil in the name of freedom and freedom's God, salute the free flag of their fathers, and place the diadem of Liberty upon the beauteous brow of uiiconquered motherland.— 'lrish World.'