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of at least two snow-capped mountains; one of which, Kegnia, was larger than the other, the Kilimanjaro; the first having peaks at its summit, while the second possesses a dome-like shape, and is situated to the south-east of the former.

That both mountains are covered with perennial snow is proved by the multitude of rivers rising amidst them. Of these Mr. Rebmann has counted more than twenty flowing from the heights of Mount Kilimanjaro, and among them two considerable ones, the Gona and the Lumi, forming the main streams of the river Zufu, or Pangani. I myself passed the river Zawo, which at the driest season was two feet and a half deep, and flows, I was informed, from the Lake Luaya, the northern receptacle of the waters which descend from the snowy Kilimanjaro. In like manner I visited the river Dana at the dry season, and found it six or seven feet deep. Its main source was reported to have its rise from a jyaru, or lake, which was the receptacle of the waters of the snowy Kegnia, and besides the river Dana there are more than fifteen rivers running from the west and north of the Kegnia. One of these, the Tumbiri, is very large, and flows, according to the report made to me by Rumu-wa-Kikandi, in a northerly direction, to the great lake Baringu, by which, in the phrase of my informant, you may travel a hundred days along its shores and find no end. To this lake, or chain of lakes, as it has been found to be, I have referred in the introduction. The great river Tumburi is evidently identical with the river Tubiri, mentioned by Mr. Werne as being a name of the White River, "Bahr el Abiad," at four degrees from the equator.

Ravenstein has consigned this view of the subject in the excellent map which he has sketched to illustrate Krapf's Travels, and if it should be confirmed by further exploration, these would be the next most distant sources of the Nile to those which feed Lake Victoria, or Nyanza of Speke, if Lake Baringu does not turn out, as is very likely to be the case, the same as Lake Victoria, or a portion of the same chain of lakes. If, however, the first view of the subject be correct, it will afford a far better explanation of the passage of Herodotus-wherein the father of history states having heard from a priest in the Temple of Minerva, at Thebes, that one half the Nile flowed towards the north, and the other towards the south-than the theory propounded by Dr. Beke, of the Gojob, or Jub, being the said southerly Nile, and the Kibbe, or Gibbe, the northerly one. According to this view, the Dana would be the southerly Nile of Herodotus, and the Tumbiri the northerly Nile, unless the same thing appertains to the Blue Nile as to the White Nile. But while the Tumbiri and the Dana have a common origin in their favour for being the two Niles alluded to by the priest of Thebes, and that their sources are far more remote than those of the Kibbe, or Blue Nile, the Gojob has in its favour a larger body of water to establish a comparison with the Nile. We purport, however, to return to the subject of the Lake District of Eastern Africa upon the publication of the works announced by Captain Burton and Dr. Beke, when we shall also enter at greater length into the question of the sources of the Nile, which, like the relics of Franklin's expedition, have been gradually more and more limited by discovery, till they are now brought within so small an area, that the new expeditions on foot can almost anticipate the very locality to which they have to direct their researches.

LADY MORGAN.*

WE are indebted to the spirited author of "The Friends, Foes, and Adventures of Lady Morgan," for having embodied such points as were worthy of preservation from that pleasant, genial, and gossiping book, added a mass of new and important matter, and have thus given to the public, in a cheap accessible form, at once a trustworthy and a readable life of that very remarkable lady. The first chapter of the present work is almost entirely devoted to a narrative of her father's (Robert Owenson) theatrical career, and to a picture of the Irish stage at the close of the last century. In the second, we have Sydney Owenson at school, then on the stage, and next as a youthful poetess. In connexion with the second point, Mr. Fitzpatrick says:

In the first edition of this work, it was incidentally mentioned that Lady Morgan in her very early life had performed for some time with her father upon the boards; but no authorities were produced for the assertion, beyond a passing reminiscence expressed by the late Dr. Burke of the Rifle Brigade. “I well remember," said that gentleman, "the pleasure with which I saw Owenson personate Major O'Flaherty in Cumberland's then highly popular comedy of "The West Indian,' and I also well remember that the long-afterwards widely-famed Lady Morgan performed at the same time, with her father, either in 'The West Indian' or an afterpiece. This took place at Castlebar before the merry, convivial Lord Tyrawley and the officers of the North Mayo militia."

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"Miss Owenson," observed a high literary authority," may have performed in private theatricals at Castlebar before the convivial Lord Tyrawley,' without being a member of any dramatic company, and without playing on any public stage. A genuine biographical charm attaches to the inquiry, and Mr. Fitzpatrick should pursue it. Lady Morgan had a most happy genius for stage mimicry and characterisation, was most passionately attached to private theatricals, and it would be curious to know whether she had ever displayed this genius on the real stage.”

There are very few persons now living competent to furnish any personal information on this point. All we can do is to collect a few waifs and strays, and let the reader draw his own conclusion. An octogenarian player, Mr. W. A. Donaldson, in his recently published "Fifty Years of an Actor's Life," tells us, "Lady Morgan is the oldest writer in Great Britain. This highly gifted woman began her career in the dramatic world. Her father was the manager of several theatres in Ireland, where she sustained characters suited to her juvenile years, with considerable ability; but when her father ceased management, her ladyship devoted her attention to literature." To this evidence it may be added that one of Ireland's most distinguished Celtic scholars was assured by the late Dean Lyons of Erris, by the late Thaddeus Connellan, itinerant preacher in Connaught, and by the late Mr. Nolan, clerk of the Ordnance at Athlone, that they had seen Owenson and his little daughter act at Sligo, and elsewhere throughout Connaught. But, in recording these reminiscences, it is right to add that the impression of Lady Morgan's nieces is, that she at no period appeared on the stage.

The result of a few substantial benefits at Smock-alley enabled Owenson to hire successively some of the provincial theatres in Ireland. Accompanied by a

*Lady Morgan: her Career, Literary and Personal, with a Glimpse of her Friends, and a Word to her Calumniators. By William John Fitzpatrick, J.P. Charles J. Skeet.

small but select company, he went the round of them in 1785. Early personal and local associations led him to give the preference of selection to the province of Connaught.

A distinguished member of the Royal Hibernian Academy, and a native of the west of Ireland, tells me that he often heard his late father describe the colossal form of Owenson as he wound his way, with some theatrical dresses on one arm, and his tiny daughter Sydney supported on the other, down Marketstreet, Sligo, en route to the little theatre adjacent. This interesting incident probably occurred about the year 1788. Mrs. Owenson must have been dead at that time. It is at least certain that the good lady was not living in 1789. She remained quite long enough, however, to leave an indelible impression on the mind of little Sydney, and to endear her memory, in a peculiar manner, to the children. In some lines on her "Birthday," written about the year 1798, Sydney refers to

The cheap, the guileless joys of youthful hours,
The strength'ning intellect's expanding powers;
The doting glance of fond maternal eyes,

The soft endearment of life's earliest ties;

The anxious warning that so often glow'd

On these dear lips, whence truth and fondness flowed.

Those lips that ne'er the stern command impos'd,
These thrice dear lips-for ever, ever closed!

The result of much inquiry on the subject has convinced us that Sydney Owenson never performed at any of the Dublin theatres, but may have appeared, when a mere child, in connexion with some of her father's professional tours through the western counties of Ireland. Owenson always flung himself into theatricals with hearty raciness and abandon; but the more he saw of stage life, its temptations, dangers, and anxieties, the stronger grew his disinclination to see any near and dear relative of his treading the boards.

The trifling evidence here adduced is still sufficient to satisfy the mind as to the fact. Indeed, the only evidence against it—and it is not worthy of the name of evidence-is the impression of Lady Morgan's nieces that she at no period appeared on the stage-an impression which they would be very likely to foster.

Sydney lost her mother in early life; but her father was extremely vigilant, and on one occasion threatened to pitch some young ensigns, who thought they might while away their heavy leisure moments in a flirtation or two, out of the window. We learn elsewhere that

The Connaught gentry paid Owenson such attention that he came to Dublin for little Sydney, and brought her down to Sligo. The family of Sir Malby Crofton of Colloony, the Everards, the Barclays, the Coopers, Phibbses, Booths, Ormsbys, and Norcots showed the small girl much kindness and attention.

The legitimate drama having failed to take, poor Owenson endeavoured to fill his theatre by personating some very loudly comic characters. "I remember," observes an old Sligo lady, "enjoying his representation of the Killibegs Haymaker, with suggauns (or straw ropes) round his hat, waist, and legs, his coat in tatters, and straws sticking out of his brougues. I laughed heartily at him, as did his two daughters, who were in the pit with, I think, an uncle of the present Sir Robert Gore Booth of Lisadile, and indeed I thought I would be ashamed if my father were so dressed, but they enjoyed it greatly. I knew Miss Sydney Owenson well: she was a gay, vivacious, smart young woman; I remember her dining and spending the evening at Mr. Feeney's, a merchant of Sligo; she came in the full-dressed fashion of that day; she danced gracefully. Being called on for a song, all our expectations were that we should hear some new

French or Italian air, but, to our surprise, she took her sweet small harp, and played up the air and sang the song, 'Oh whistle and I will be with you my lad.' Mr. Owenson was a very good comic actor. I remember having seen the same play acted afterwards in Dublin, but not so well as Mr. Owenson did it at Sligo. Miss Owenson spent a great deal of her time at the seat of Sir Malby Crofton. She often passed me on the road riding a nice pony. I thought that she did not sit so straight in her saddle as the ladies who accompanied her." Another octogenarian of Sligo writes: "I frequently went to Owenson's theatre in Water-lane, Knox's-street. I remember his daughters in the pit with Mr. Harloe Phibbs, who attracted general observation, as a report was at that time rife that he was courting Miss Sydney Owenson. There were no boxes in Sligo Theatre then. Harloe Phibbs was the son of old Bloomer Phibbs, who went by the name of 'Smooth Acres.' The fashionable improvidence of the day led to these acres being encumbered and sold. I remember, on the particular night in question, that Owenson's part was Pan, dressed up in goat-skins, a very amusing character."

The invasion of the French and the capture of Castlebar appear to have brought Owenson's histrionic embarrassments to a crisis, and it would also appear, from a note appended at the conclusion of the work before us, that Sydney Owenson went out as governess at or about this period, when necessity-that great parent of exertion-induced by her father's misfortune, also first brought her into notice as the authoress of a little volume of poems, "juvenile and otherwise." Croker's assaults also first began at this, the very dawn of her literary career; and one benefit resulted from these attacks, that they aided her reception in high quarters, nor did they in any way dim the genius of her who was at the same time preparing her "Wild Irish Girl" for the press.

These youthful steps of progress were followed by her marriage with Surgeon Morgan; and the manner in which she got her intended knighted, and thus obtained for herself the title of Sydney Lady Morgan, is very characteristic:

We now approach the most important period in the domestic life of Miss Owenson. Mr. T. C. Morgan was a surgeon and general medical practitioner in an English provincial town. The late Marquis of Abercorn, in passing through it, en route for Tyrone, from his Scottish seat, Dudingstone House, Edinburgh, met with an accident which threatened dangerous results, and Surgeon Morgan was sent for. The doctor was promptly in attendance, and for more than a week he remained night and day beside the noble patient's couch. Under the skilful treatment of Mr. Morgan, the marquis at length became rapidly convalescent. He felt sincerely grateful to the young physician for his assiduous and efficient attention, and invited him on a visit to his Irish seat at Baron's Court, County of Tyrone, where the marchioness was about to organise some splendid fétes champetres. The invitation was accepted. Anne, Marchioness of Abercorn, had a select circle of guests on a visit at the house, and amongst the number Miss Owenson. Mr. Morgan was a widower, but more literary, and romantic, and juvenile than the generality of widowers: a congeniality of taste brought him and the young authoress into frequent conversation. Time passed swiftly and gaily; but in the midst of this festivity and frolic a letter arrived, announcing the dangerous illness of Robert Owenson, and summoning his daughter Sydney to Dublin. With weeping eyes and an aching heart-but not on Morgan's account-she bade the young widower a hurried adieu. Owenson made a short rally, and survived until May, 1812. Surgeon Morgan, in the mean time, with a smitten heart followed Miss Sydney Owenson to Dublin, and persecuted her

with declarations of the love which filled him to distraction. The popular Duke of Richmond invited the authoress and Mr. Morgan to one of the private balls at the Veeregal Court. His excellency, in the course of a lounging conversation with Miss Owenson, playfully alluded to the matrimonial report which had begun to be bruited about, and expressed a hope to have the pleasure, at no distant day, of congratulating her on her marriage. "The rumour respecting Mr. Morgan's dévouement," she replied, "may or may not be true; but this I can at least with all candour and sincerity assure your grace, that I shall remain to the last day of my life in single blessedness, unless some more tempting inducement than the mere change from Miss Owenson to Mistress Morgan be offered me." The hint was taken, and Charles, Duke of Richmond, in virtue of the powers of his office, knighted Surgeon Morgan upon the spot.

A visit to the Continent followed upon her marriage. The object of this journey was to pick up materials for the work on France, which her biographer considers as her chef-d'œuvre. The publication of this book aroused the bitter ire of the Quarterly, and caused her to be pursued by all the venom of "shoals of slanderers and snakes in the grass."

Lady Morgan was, however, quite capable of fighting her own battles, and she has a most efficient and zealous protector of her fair fame in Mr. Fitzpatrick. Irish by birth, sceptic by education, and democratic by inspiration, she lived half a century before her time. The literary organ of government could at that epoch give the signal, and fifty subaltern scribes were ready to take it up, and to make a point of attacking indiscriminately whatever Lady Morgan did. Had she lived in our own time it would have been a different thing: she would have had her "opposition"-that, with her politics and idiosyncrasies, would have been unavoidable-but she would have had a clear stage and fair play.

In

It is gratifying to find this extraordinary woman's life told in so brief, agreeable, straightforward, and honest a manner. If we were to say that none but an Irishman could have done justice to such a subject, we should only say what we believe; the same amount of research, and even the same amount of sympathy, might have been found on this side of the Channel, but the hearty Celtic raciness and local colour, never. deed, if we were to say, with an Irish Conservative paper, that there is but one man in the United Kingdom who could have produced this book, we should, perhaps, be still nearer the mark. The spirit of inquiry which exhausts every source of information, the perseverance and tact, and the genial warmth, are characteristics only of the author of the "Life and Times of Lord Cloncurry," and of the "Note on the Cornwallis Papers."

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