68 LIFE IN IRELAND 



gloomy aisles of cloistered and monastic superstition, 

 or in the chivalric hall of ancient days, where beardless 

 knights in pasteboard and buckram armour make a 

 mockery of the days gone by, and 



' Wig-crown'd priests display with pomp and art, 

 Religion's every feeling — but the heart.' 



However, I am partial to keeping up old customs 

 rendered sacred by their antiquity ; it makes us better 

 acquainted with the characters of our brave forefathers ; 

 renders us more emulous of their virtues, their courage, 

 and national enthusiasm. 



The blazing of the royal yacht, glittering with more 

 than Eastern splendour, and the Pier of Dunleary 

 crowded with the well-marshalled procession and 

 superbly dressed elegant females, such as Ireland only 

 can boast, were objects that attracted the attention of 

 Brian Boru as they pressed on through the numerous 

 groups of vessels that surrounded them. 



The silken streamers and flags displayed by Sir 

 Shawn were much admired, and every now and then 

 a royal salute from his brass cannon drew the eyes of 

 every one towards him. Brian, who let nothing pass 

 his observation, exclaimed, ' By the powers ! but the 

 royal yacht reminds me of a classic description I have 

 read about Cleopatra's galley sailing down the Cydnus 

 to meet Marc Anthony, when the oars kept time to the 

 music' Lady Demiquaver very shrewdly remarked, 

 ' The comparison won't hold good ; Cleopatra's galley 

 had oars but no sails, the Royal Yacht has sails but 

 no oars ; besides, Brian, where is your Cleopatra, the 

 female commander? you don't mean to compare the 



