among the Scotch and Irish, the custom of singing at funerals, anciently prevalent in Scotland and Ireland, and still practised in various parts of these countries. Of this custom the following account is given by Pennant:—

"I had not the fortune to be present at any in North Britain, but formerly assisted at one in the south of Ireland, where it was performed in the fulness of horror. The cries are called by the Irish the ulogohne and hállulu, two words very expressive of the sound uttered on these occasions; and being of Celtic stock, etymologists would swear to be the origin of the ἀλογόν of the Greeks, and ululatus of the Latins. Virgil is very fond of using the last whenever any of his females are distressed; as are others of the Roman poets, and generally on occasions similar to this. It was my fortune to arrive at a certain town in Kerry at the time that a person of some distinction departed this life. My curiosity led me to the house, where the funeral seemed conducted in the purest classical form.

Quoqueque aspliceret, luctus gemitutus somnabit, Formaque non taetili funeris intus erat.

In short, the conclamatio was set up by the friends in the same manner as Virgil describes that consequential of Dido's death;

Lamentis gemitute et formine ululato Tecta fremunt.

Immediately after this followed another ceremony, full described by Camden in his account of the manners of the ancient Irish; the earnest expostulations and reproaches given to the deceased for quitting this world, where she enjoyed so many blessings, so good a husband, such fine children. This custom is also of great antiquity; for Euryalus' mother makes the same pathetic address to her dead son.

Tune, illis senectae Sera non requies, potiusi linquere solam, Crudellis!

But when the time approached for carrying out the corpse, the cry was redoubled,

Tremulis ululatis athera compleat; a numerous band of females waiting in the outer court to attend the hearse, and to pay (in chorus) the last tribute of their voices. The habit of this sorrowing train, and the neglect of their persons, were admirably suited to the occasion: their robes were black and flowing, resembling the ancient pallia; their feet naked, their hair long and dishevelled: I might truly say,

Vidi egomet nigri succinctam vadere pallia Canidiam; pedibus nudis, paroque capillo, Cum Sagana majore ulularem.

The corpse was carried slowly along the verge of a most beautiful lake, the ululation was continued, and the whole procession ended among the venerable ruins of an old abbey."—(Tour in Scotland, vol. i., p. 113.)