Irish News. OUR IRISH LETTER.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXX, Issue 13, 27 March 1902, Page 9

Irish News. OUR IRISH LETTER.

(From our own correspondent.) Dublin, January, 1902. Soldiers and Religious Objects. It is a very old custom, dating from the early Christian times, for Catholic soldiers to bear upon their persons some religious object when they are going into battle, a custom that has not fallen into disuse in these present days, for I was told lately that one of our city priests, who has a great deal to do with the Dublin barracks, has to bless and distribute rosariee and scapulars to all the Catholic soldiers whose regiments are going from Dublin to the war. The men feel that, go where they will, there is ever something near their hearts that reminds them of God and home, something, the sight of which recalls them often to prayer and reminds them of their duty to God when in the midst of temptation , something blessed, to go with them into the soldier's lonely, unconsecrated grave. Recently, a, soldier on board ship was seen to be sobbing bitterly, as if with a presentiment that he was looking his last upon all ho loved on earth, and, as the ship drew off and the land was fading from sight, the poor fellow took out his scapulars and kissed them, all he now had of Ireland. The story reminded me of a book I value highly, both on account of its own history and on account of the little picture that is gummed loosely into the front, so that a few lines of the writing on the reverse may be read The engraving represents the Annunciation, and the lines on the back tell that it was found by Lieutenant Waldron, of the Roscommon Light Company at Vinegar Hill during the rebellion of 1798. The book itself has an cq,ually interesting story. It is an original copy of a catechism compiled by Andrew Dunlevy, Director of the Irish Community at Paris, for the use of the descendants of the Wild Geese, that is, the members of the Irish Brigades, and it proves with what tenacity these exiles clung to thennative language and kept it in daily use and taught it to their children, long after all those who settled abroad must have become familiar with the language of their adopted countries, for the compiler had the book printed in the Irish language and in Irish type in Paris in the year 1742, which goes far to show that the printing of Irish books must not have been so very rare in France in those times, for it would scarcely pay to ha\c our special Irish type struck for the publication of one book alone. The Royal Visit. There is much speculation abroad as to whether or not the King and Queen will visit Ireland this spring. One day, positive assurances are given that a visit may be counted upon in April, then again, rumors are heard that their Majesties will have too many engagements for this year, at least. Business has been so slack, especially in the northern capital, that a Royal visit is naturally looked for to stir up trade somewhat. So far, nothing definite is really known, although some preparations have been made at the Vicelegai Lodge, Phoenix Park, where the King and Queen will stay if they do come over. Death of Aubrey de Vere. A genuine poet has just passed away in the person of Mr. Aubrey do Vere, whose works should be far better known to the Irish people than those of the many so-called poets of the day, for Aubrey de Vere's writings on Irish subjects arc

pure, religious, and national in the best sense of the word ; he gives us in smooth and refined language, and with beautiful* imagery, the traditions of our holy religion and the best legends of ancient times. ITe is never pagan in his writings, never borders on the coarse, is ne\er obscure, and is content to clothe his ideas in good grammar ho never, in fact, gives us page after page of ' unthunk thoughts ' poured forth in an incomprehensible dialect of distorted words, but he has g^en some sweet poetry to Ireland, puutiy such as our people would lo\e, were it placed in their hands. But, like Ruskin, Aubrey de Vere did not believe in cheap puffs, in what is called log-rolling ; in his early clays of authorship, books were not so cheap and consequently not so easily placed in the hands of the people, and in these latter days it is he who shouts loudest gets the host hearing for the moment, but when things ■- right themselves and another generation can review in peace the works of the writers of the last century, when the wheat is seperated from the chaff, there is little doubt but that Aubrey de Vere's poems will have- a lasting place in Irish literature. Mr cle Vere's home was the beautiful house arid demesne of Cm-rag h Chase, County Limerick, m the near neighborhood of those knely spots, Adare and Foynes, the latter the home of Miss Charlotte Grace O'Brien, daughter of William Smith O'Brien, and herself no mean poet, as well as one who has done an incalculable amount of good for Trish emigrant girls At Foynes, the Shannon is most picturesque ; it flows right under the rocky eminence on which Miss O'Brien's home stands and in the centre of the flood is a small wooded island upon w,nch Mr. Aubrey de Vere had a lodge, a veritable sylvan retreat, where he spent many of his summer hours. Born in the Protestant religion, one of those men in whom religion is always a deep, sensible part of their being, Mr. do Vere began at an early age to study loli^ious questions, with the result that lie became a convinced and firm Catholic, having- been received into the Cluu eh by the late Cardinal Manning Although a sincere lo\er of his count iv her history and her people, m the abstract, ho was not able entnoly to rid himself of early imbibed political prejudices, and was consci \ative in policy, but his faimlv weru never harsh or unjust in their dealings with their tenantry. Wedding Presents . It is strange to note how a fashion grows. Twenty or thirty years ago, people began to levy a general tax for wedding presents by having the giifts of relatives and near friends laid out for inspection in the bride's house, and gently hinting to all mere acquaintances that they would be quite welcome to come and ha\o a look at all the lovely things that had been showered upon the In ideolect. Curiosity brought acquaintances, and, naturally, these did not like to go empty-handed ; next came a long list of gifts, with the names of donors, published in society papers, and even sometimes communicated to non-society journals, and woe to even the poorest and most distant acquaintance who ga\e no contribution : never could he or she expect an invitation to wedding or subsequent gaitics in the new household. The fashion lias now reached the point of sending out invitations to representatives of the Press to come, see, and dilate upon the wedding presents in their respective journals, and even to inspect and report upon the bride's trousseau ! And — will it be believed — not only have members of the stafls of society papers responded, but those also of respectable journals, as in the case of a recent fashionable Irish marriage, that of Lord Londonderry's daughter., It may interest

young lady readers to learn from these journalists that the trousseau was made in Ireland, and that Lady ovnv,?f^ tew^ rt Presses 15 dozen of wh o h^ ln wa y of underwear over 700 C ° S i ly ,- P rcseT *s number s^hire^orn^^ HH «£■»£! Belf-Xi \ UCC from thu ladi °s of Snif Sorl V nn ° Ugh Walches > clo <*9 swf-' / ockel f. and other toys to square was not only thronged to S?W iSSffaSS, 10 ™ 11 -ESS Old Age. HvJn Poo'P 00 '' 10 , really live longer now Jll,;'J 11 ,;'™ 01 '^ as. some assort to iS vie case ? Certainly we hear of n at lt m T a ," y a t Uaini " SowS ' own e i;"^sS bI S Ttroi 1 300 ° habitants ii vUIm l J hl ,l} and along the shore of the Jiay. Here 90 is a common age : we have buried many over 90 within the ?S l^-flT' an , d ! ° nly three y ear a ago an aged neighbor of 105 died leading behind her a sister over 100' Last week we lost two old friends on the same day, each in her 102 nd year, each retaining her faculties unimpaired to the last, both active up to a tew months ago. One belonged to the very humble class, a good Catholic, whom I never missed from her place in the Sodality of the feacred Heart at First Mass until withm the last six months. The second lived within a few doors of her and belonged to the Protestant gentry of the County Wexford : a bright, brisk, active woman, a noted wit in. her early days, sharp of tongue and full of fun to the last Many a time we coaxed her into singing for us, in a strong, almost manly voice, songs she herself composed in her youth, and in which she sharply satirised some of the gentry of her nathe county and then sang the same for those a cry gentry, amongst whom was the Dowager Lady Carew, who only predeceased her fellow-conn Iry woman by a few months, dying at the age of 104. Only about three weeks before our friend died, I paid her a visit and we laughed heartily over many a joke. A good laugh,' she would say, 'is worth a pound of beefsteak.' It was only about two years ago she could be persuaded to call in a local doctor, when her friends grew anxious about an attack of vertigo. I called soon after and she told me she liked the new man well enough but would take none of his physic. The interview between doctor and patient began thus ; T will give Miss F's own words : ' Before you begin now, Dr. 8., I want to tell you a story. A doctor was called in once (I forget where) to prescribe for a patient sufiering from some queer complaint. The medical man felt him all over. ' Ha ' ' he says, ' I think I have got to tho root of the disease. There's a swelling here, just beside the region of the heart. We must reduce that swelling at once.' ' Pray don't reduce it too much, doctor,' says the patient, ' it's my pocket book. Now you understand, Dr. B. ? ' 'On my honor 1 did,' concluded the old lady, ' and he laughed till you'd think he'd kill himself.' 'We shall miss our bright friend, for, in tri ih, when aged people like her retain thru- faculties there are few such entertaining companions, and Miss F. had endless stories of old times and loved a good gossip over present days as heartily as a girl of 20, taking an interest in dress and fashion and needlework, in the latter of which she excelled, while her potato cake was something to bo thankful for, for she kept up her housekeeping to tho last.

Many a time wo had high fun with her over tea, a potato cake and our comical mate h-makirg plans for her and a rich old gentleman of about her own age, v ho is now fast nearing the grave In life. Miss !•' appeared about 7.1. in death she looked a beautiful old woman ' 1 wondir,' she said at times last sununei , ' which will go lirst, Airs Ca rly or myself ' CJod rest them both. 'They were carried to their long home on the same day, our friend leading a younger <-ister, aged 96, and a ' maid,' aged 80, behind, the hitter still doing- the entire work of the natty house and running of messages, as brisk as a bee. 1 h.uc come to hate the hackneyed word, pathetic, yet it was indeed pathetic to meet the pretty little old servant a day or two ago, setting forth to do her marketing, her market basket co\ ered with black. Someone in one of Charles Dickens's books had written up m his room, ' Loid, Keep my memory green.' Trul.\ , old age is beautiful when the Almighty does lea\e the memory green Menions of a Diplomatist . A remarkable Irishman, the Marquis of lMiffcrin the descendant" of Richard Brmsley Sheridan, and mtelectually worthy of his descent, has been seriously ill. During a long- life amongst the highest diplomatic circles of Europe and India and the highest social circles at home and abroad Lord Duffcnn kept a minute diary, and upon this interesting book and a mass of other material gathered together by him he has been working for a considerable tune, with the view of giving his memoirs to the world. If not too carefully edited, this should pro\e one of the most engrossingly attractive books of the century, for' few men have had suc'i opportunities' of knowing the men and manners of his time as has had the gifted son of the authoress of the ' IrHh Emi-