40 



THE SHAMROCK. 



the Shamrock must occupy \hc station of a flower 

 for once, and why should it not ? England displays, 

 as her synihol, the glowing rose, — Scotland, the 

 lilac tuft of her hardy and giginlic thistle, — and 

 alas ! poor Erin's green shamrock has too often 

 outblusiied them both, as the life-blood of inatiy a 

 victim oozed forth npon tlie sod, under the iron 

 reign of spiritual tyranny, which still sharpens, 

 for its own dark purposes, the weapons of civil 

 discord ; wading onward, through rivers of blood, 

 to the goal of its insatiable ambition. 



But I must not identify the gentle shamrock 

 with themes so revolting; I have pleasanler combi- 

 nations in view, and long lo introduce to my read- 

 ers the companion with whom, for se^en succf^s- 

 sive years, I sought cui ihe symbin so dear to his 

 patriotic heart, and watched the praverful expres- 

 sion of his countenance, while he gazed upon it. 

 He was dumb ; no articulate sound had ever passed 

 his lips, no note of melody had ever penetrated 

 his closed ear, but the ' Ephphatha" ii.vJ reached 

 his heart ; and, oh ! how full, how rich, how sweet, 

 how abiding was the communion which he held with 

 his adored Redeemer ! 



The Irish have a tradition, that when St. Patrick 

 first proclaimed among their fithers the glad tidings 

 of salvation, making known to them the exi.>tence 

 of the Iri-une Jehovah, the greatness of thai 

 mystery perplexed and staggered his disciples* 



