Lady Moore's uneasiness at the violence of the storm seemed to be greatly aggravated by her husband's silent brooding. During the entire evening an atmosphere of depression seemed to prevail within and around Moore's Court; and, as if to escape from this dismal state of mind, everyone in the house retired to seek repose long before the usual hour.

(To be continued.)

A SONNET.

The bridal fields and woods are full of mirth,
For Spring, swift-footed, comes across the hills;
His garb is yellow like young daffodils,
And the gay sunshine is his golden girth.

At his dear coming, i' the womb of the Earth
All nature leaps, and a long rapture thrills
Through every vale and down a hundred rills.
O shout and sing to hail this blessed birth!

The tender buds peep up with timid eyes,
The green-gold grasses nod to one another,
And leaves are stirred with rustle of light laughter;

The while fair Earth with open bosom lies,
And smiles, renewed in heart like a young mother
Wan through her labour, but more lovely after.
WILFRID MEYNELL.

THE VALE OF AVOCA.

THE river Ovoca, which flows through the charming Wicklow valley of the "Meeting of the Waters," is named Oboka on the ancient geographical chart compiled by Ptolemy. "In the portion of his work relating to Ireland," remarks the author of "Irish Names of Places," "Ptolemy mentions over fifty names, and of this number only about nine can be identified with names existing within the period reached by our history." In the Irish annals, the proper name of the river now so well known as the Ovoca, is Abhainn-mhor. At the date A.M. 3501, in the Four Masters, we find that Amergin, one of the leaders of the Milesian expedition and chief ollav of the Gadelian colony, made a causeway at

Inbher-mor (the mouth of the Ovoca); and the learned O'Donovan states, in a note on the entry, that the remains of this tochar are still traceable, and give name to a townland in the vicinity of Arklow.

The celebrated "Meeting of the Waters" is formed by the confluence of the streams of the Avonmore and Avonbeg. The latter descends through the historic defile of Glenmalure, in whose rugged fastnesses, during the fierce and protracted struggle between the Irish septs and the armies of Elizabeth, the gallant clan of the O'Byrnes had their stronghold, and bade defiance to the lords of the Pale. In 1580 they annihilated the forces of Lord Grey, who upon his landing in Ireland as viceroy had directed his first expedition against the Wicklow clans. He rashly determined to force the pass of Glenmalure; but the English troopers had no sooner penetrated into the heart of the defile, than they were surrounded by the O'Byrnes and their allies, and cut off almost to a man.

The scenery of the Vale of Avoca is exquisitely portrayed in Moore's beautiful melody, the "Meeting of the Waters:❞—

"There is not in this wide world a valley so sweet

As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet;
Oh!, the last ray of feeling and life must depart

Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart."

In this delightful region nature has been lavish of all her softer charms, and everything around wears an aspect of serene and enchanting loveliness. The graceful outline of the encircling hills, clothed with the brightest and most luxuriant foliage; the repose of the sylvan solitudes, unbroken, save by the murmur of the summer wind, or the wild, sweet warbling of the feathery songsters; the tranquil, silent flow of the crystal waters, now darkened by the shadows of the sentinel groves, now reflecting in their clear wave the picturesque forms of the slowly-drifting clouds that seem loath to wander from such a fairy scene, anon glancing in the splendour of the golden sunbeam-all tend to create some of the most delightful sensations that can be enjoyed in the contemplation of the many favoured gems of scenery in our Western Isle. Little wonder that the exquisite charm of such a scene captivated the prince of Irish bards, and that under the spell of their magic beauty, he should have sung

"Sweet Vale of Avoca, how calm could I rest

In thy bosom of shade with the friends I love best,

When the storms that we feel in this cold world would cease,
And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace!"

THE "SUPERSTITION" OF LOURDES.

etymology of the The ancients had

SUPERSTITION-what is it? Possibly, in the word, it is a false belief founded on a true one. a different kind of superstition to that which is even possible for Christians. Their belief, being radically false as to the Divinity, necessarily engendered a superstructure of fancy. Cicero says"Superstition is the mark of an imbecile and anile mind." He also describes superstition as "a weak fear of the gods;" and advises that "a certain moderation in religion" is the best possible antidote to superstition. This was all very reasonable in Cicero. But our modern pagan-Christians, half-believers, halfmaterialists, are like Cicero in their desire for moderation, but unlike him in their apology for ignorance. They, at least, affect to believe in Revelation, though they interpret it according to their own tastes. We are not speaking of professed sceptics or materialists, but of the highly-respectable "unattached" Christian classes. They believe in the moral part of the Gospel teaching, but they relegate all dogma to the sphere of bigotry. And since dogma necessarily involves Divine authority, they will not hear of any authority except their own. But Divine authority also involves the Divine presence; for without the Divine presence there would be errancy. Hence, the Divine presence, in the sense of Divine teaching, must be utterly ignored with the Divine authority. And, finally," the supernatural," which includes the presence and the authority, and which, indeed, is the living energy of both, must be given up wholly and contemptuously; for what is "the supernatural," but the abiding presence of God, in witness to the Divine authority of His Church? Thus, everything which is supernatural must be called superstitious-a word which is contemptuous of Divine faith. We may give this as a general explanation. The contempt for superstition in the majority of non-Catholics, is the contempt for the supernatural Church.

Yet, superstition, from the varied uses of the word, is most difficult to be rigidly defined. For if you say that there is no infallible authority which can circumscribe the limits of dogma, you must say that every sort of "believing" either may be, or may not be superstitious. To the Socinian, our Lord's Divinity is a superstition. To the non-Catholic, the Pope's inerrancy is a superstition. To the Low Churchman, the Real Presence is a superstition. To the Dissenter, a visible Church is a superstition. To the Ritualist, Ecumenicity is a superstition. Whatever lies outside your own private apprehension of the reasonable compass of Christian truth, becomes a fancy which is built upon

mere egotism, and is, therefore, to you superstition. The morbid origin which we impute to a false belief (and "superstition" means properly a false belief) may be an accident, not an essence of its existence. Superstition need not necessarily be morbid; it need not necessarily be emotional or sentimental. It may be a strictly reasoning mental attitude. It may be so in respect to any doctrine. It may be so in respect to any report. For example: if several persons affirm that they saw a blind man receive sight, and the unbeliever call the report superstitious, he may do so on two grounds: that he disbelieves in all miracles, or that he disbelieves in this one particular miracle. Whichever his ground, let us ask him the question: on whose side lies the real superstition? Obviously on his side who is wrong as to his principle, and who, therefore, is superstitious as to a fact. If the fact be a true fact, yet be rejected from prejudice, the prejudiced rejector is superstitious; or if the fact be a false fact (to use the expression for convenience), the prejudice against the principle is superstitious. To bring the case closely home, let us say that the blind man is reported to have received his sight in Lourdes Cathedral. Now, the non-Catholic will affirm that this report is superstitious, on two grounds which are distinct if sympathetic. He will first call it superstition to believe in the principle of the supernatural character of the Catholic Church; and he will next call it superstition to believe that any miracle could be obtained by the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. Hence, the non-Catholic who disbelieves in the Virgin's office (or who, at least, rejects the Immaculate Conception), is doubly scornful of a miracle which, in addition to being supernatural, is an attestation to a particular Catholic dogma. We do not affirm that this non-Catholic must be "morbid" because he rejects (superstitiously) what may be true; he may but be exercising his reasoning faculties; but neither will we permit him to affirm of our credulity that it must be necessarily more morbid than is his incredulity. We will not allow that we must be morbid at all. Our credulity is a strictly logical attitude. It is our intellectual approval of what is probable. It is reasoned out on principle and on evidence. True, the principle must be one thing, and the evidence must be another; but we claim the strict warranty of both. The principle is the consistency of the interference of God in every department of His own created universe; the perfect harmony of the interruption of some laws by the momentary application of others, and the obvious fitness of a benignity which is exercised towards creatures who are living under a supernatural dispensation. The prin ciple is the confession of the Divinity of our Blessed Lord, and of His abiding presence, and therefore power, upon earth. It is the refusal to confine the Creator to the clouds, or to hem Him in within any confines whatsoever. It is the proclamation that the Divine Son of Mary is also the Divine Brother of true Christians.