illiiaiiiJIi!,.,!.. 
 
 "I 'I 
 
 'iFi'lliiillPl 
 
 !|f||'(,
 
 IRISH SCENES, 
 
 EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO: 
 
 BEING THE 
 
 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO THAT COUNTRY; 
 
 NOW PUBLISHED WITH A VIEW OF 
 
 AFFOEDIXG SOME ADDITIONAL RELIEF TO THE 
 STARVING POOR OF IRELAND. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 TRUTH WITHOUT NOVELTY," " THE FIRST COM- 
 MUNION," " THE GUIDING STAR," 
 AND OTHER TALES. 
 
 WITH A PREFACE, 
 
 BY THE REV. FRANCIS TRENCH. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JAMES NISBET AND CO, 21, BERNERS STREET. 
 
 EDWARD BLACKWELL, READING. 
 
 MDCCCXLVII.
 
 JIACIKTOSH, PRINTER, 
 GREAT NEW-STBEET, LONDON. 
 
 1
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Preface 
 
 CHAPTER I.— p. 1. 
 
 Passage to Ireland — Arrival in Dublin — Public Insti- 
 tutions — Environs — Pic-nic Parties— Killiney Hill 
 and Bay — Present Condition of the Irish Peasantry. 
 
 CHAPTER II.— p. 7. 
 
 Excursion to Wieklow — Bray — Promontory — Kilrud- 
 dery — Glen of the Downs — Delgany — Belle Vue — 
 Dunran — Eagle Rock — Newtow^n Mount Kenned}' — 
 Ashford Bridge — Devil's Glen — River Vartrey — 
 Newrath Bridge — Rosanna — O'Neill's Hotel — Vale 
 of Avoca — Avondale — Castle Howard — Wooden 
 Bridge — Course of the River — Arklow — Shelton 
 Abbey — Bally Arthur — Cronebane Copper Mine — 
 Rathdrum. 
 
 CHAPTER III.— p. 22. 
 
 Valley of the Seven Churches — George Winder, the 
 Guide — Legend — Superstitions— Rhefeart, the Bu- 
 A 2 
 
 ^^OGlaii>
 
 IV CONTENTS. 
 
 rial -place of the Kings of Imaly — Round Tower — 
 The Lake — Lugduff — St. Kevin's Bed — Cathleen's 
 Feat — Her Cottage — Cut in the Mountain — Water- 
 fall — Round wood — Luggelaw — Lough Dan and 
 Lough Tay — Hunting Seat of Mr. La Touche — 
 Legend of the Valley — Masses of Granite and 
 Quartz — Banshees — Roman Catholic and Protestant 
 Pastors of the Parish — Richard Mason's Shop — 
 Powerscourt — Waterfall — Enniskerry — The Dargle 
 — Return to Dublin — The Scalp. 
 
 CHAPTER IV.— p. 39. 
 
 Description of Country between Dublin and Limerick 
 — Irish Climate and People — Naas — Nenagh — Irish 
 Beggars — Killaloe — Limerick — Rathkeale — Irish 
 Car — Irish Funeral — Journey to Glin — Village of 
 Adair — Arrival at Glin Castle — Drive to Bally- 
 bunnion — Ruins of Lislochtin Abbey — Mouth of 
 the Shannon — Singular Rocks and Caverns — Their 
 Stratification — Walk along the Cliffs — Luncheon on 
 the Castle Hill— The River Shannon. 
 
 CHAPTER v.— p. 54. 
 
 Departure from Glin — Tralee— Irish Post-boys — First 
 approach to Killarney — Our Companion to the 
 Lakes — Ross Castle — Lower Lake — Giant O'Dono- 
 hoe — Innisfallen — Mountains, Tomies and Glena — 
 O'Siillivan's Cascade — Bay of Glena — Turk and 
 Mangerton Mountains— Dinis Island — Old Bridge
 
 CONTENTS. V 
 
 of Brickeen — Refreshment — Turk Lake — Turk 
 Cottage— Turk Waterfall— Devil's Punch BdwI— 
 Mountain Storm — Muckruss House — Housekeeper 
 — Muckruss Abbey — Hermits — Selection of a Skull 
 — Return through the Rain to the Hotel — Gap of 
 Dunloe— Bugle Man — Fox Hunt— Aged Woman — 
 Gheramine, the Seat of Lord Brandon — The Upper 
 Lake— Hyde's Cottage — Waterfall— The Eagle's 
 Nest— Echoes — Return to Ross Castle by Moonlight. 
 
 CHAPTER VL— p. 81. 
 
 The Return from the Lakes of Killarney — Castle of 
 Ballincally — Abbey of Kilcrea— Village of Ovens 
 — Macroom, the Birth-place of Admiral Penn — Cork 
 — Visit to Cove of Cork — Arrival in Dublin — 
 Lines on a Skull, brought from Mucruss Abbey, 
 Killarney. 
 
 CHAPTER VII.— p. 90. 
 
 Irish Clergy— Sketch of a Charity Sermon, preached 
 by the Rev. N. A. — Short Notices of a few other 
 Preachers. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII.— p. 103. 
 
 Departure from Dublin — Drogheda — Billingham — 
 Dundalk — Newry — Bunbridge — Dromore — Hills- 
 borough — Ravonsdale — Belfast — The Museum 
 — Antrim — Round Tower — Randalstown — Bally- 
 mena — Ballyraoney — Coleraine — Coast Scenery — 
 A 3
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 Dunluce Castle— A Legend — Cavern— Bushmills — 
 Guide's Cottage — Description of the Giant's Cause- 
 way — Eloquence of the Guides — Cavern — Return to 
 the Cottage — Kepose on the Shore— The Steamer in 
 sight— Disappointment — Return to Coleraine. 
 
 CHARTER IX.— p. 124. 
 
 Shane's Castle — Lough Neagh — Legendary accounts 
 of the formation of the Lake — Remarks on Ireland 
 — Late Arrival at Belfast — Embarkation on board 
 the Fingal Steamer — Departure from Ireland for 
 Scotland.
 
 PREFACE, 
 
 The appearance of this small volume origi- 
 nated with the desire of obtaining, by its 
 publication, some additional means of extend- 
 ing relief to the suffering and starving poor 
 of that very country, to which its pages refer. 
 No less a period than eighteen years has 
 elapsed since the excursion, here briefly 
 narrated, took place. The manuscript, now 
 transformed into print, remained quietly on 
 its shelf from the time of its composition 
 and perusal by relatives and friends until this 
 present year, when the authoress was led 
 to consider, whether, among the many and 
 various means so generally and liberally 
 devised for Ireland by the Christian spirit 
 of this country, the publication of a narrative 
 like this might not take its appropriate place, ^
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 and prove instrumental towards the grand 
 and imperative object of feeding many starving 
 poor, through those profits which may result, 
 under God's blessing, from its favourable 
 acceptance. 
 
 A few words now on the character of this 
 little work. It assumes to be nothing more 
 than a selection from the journal of the 
 writer, when visiting Ireland, at the period 
 above-mentioned, in the company of her 
 brother, whose health required some inter- 
 mission from pastoral duties. The travellers, 
 as it will be seen, had an advantage, not 
 always enjoyed, of finding themselves among 
 their own personal friends and acquaintances, 
 immediately on their arrival in the scenes 
 new to them, and in their subsequent excur- 
 sions to many parts of the country which 
 they visited. Their expedition was pro- 
 longed to Scotland, but it has not seemed 
 expedient to increase the size of this volume 
 by the extension of the narrative to that part 
 of the realm. As so frequently occurs, 
 whether it may be apparent in such works 
 or not, the materials of the volume are drawn 
 from a series of letters, sent to relations in
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 England, and giving a detailed account of 
 matters generally interesting. 
 
 The author of this short Preface has had 
 the gratification of reading these letters at 
 full length ; and though much has been 
 omitted here, in itself of an interesting cha- 
 racter, still the selection appears to him as 
 having been very judiciously made, both as 
 to matter and to quantity. He has himself 
 been a traveller in several of those localities, 
 which are here described, and therefore he 
 can answer, without hesitation, for the fidelity 
 of the account given. In addition to this, 
 from liavino; been a resident in Ireland durino: 
 two years, and from constant communication 
 with various classes in that country, he can 
 bear his general testimony to the substantial 
 truth, as well as to the graphic and lively 
 accuracy, with which many points of national 
 character are touched upon and brought to 
 light in the following pages. Moreover, as 
 one intimately connected with Ireland, he 
 holds it a privilege to add this humble contri- 
 bution to the work, and should feel truly 
 thankful if it furthered, in the slightest 
 degree, the good and Christian object, on
 
 X TREFACE. 
 
 account of which, exclusively, it now 
 appears. 
 
 The awful and agonizing details relative 
 to Irish Liisery, as exhibited in the terrific 
 features of starvation, and pestilence, and 
 death, are now so thoroughly known through- 
 out Great Britain, and, indeed, throughout 
 the whole world, that any additional state- 
 ments of this kind are perfectly needless 
 here. Appeals, too, of all sorts, have been 
 so various, so multiplied, and so forcible, that 
 any fresh exhortations, addressed to Christian 
 love, benevolence, and self-denial, would only 
 be repetitions of that which has been heard 
 sounding and penetrating through every 
 parish, and almost through every home of 
 this land. The writer of this preface will 
 therefore abstain from any narrative of 
 miseries so thoroughly known, and from any 
 attempt at moving appeals, such as those 
 alluded to above. His object will be fully 
 obtained, if each reader of the work now 
 in his hands, will promote its circulation, if 
 approved, with the practical remembrance, 
 that by so doing, he will be instrumental 
 in feeding the hungry, and in assuaging the
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 pangs of disease. And may the appearance 
 of the volume cause those into whose hands 
 it may come just to pause, for a few minutes, 
 while they recur, in mind and in heart, to 
 some few only of those fearful accounts, 
 which, from time to time, have been brought 
 to their notice during the last few months. 
 Let them remember the reality of these 
 things, as being facts of most appalling pre- 
 valence even still ! And then let them 
 proportion their efforts for the mitigation of 
 such deep and such vast calamities, still 
 ravaging whole districts of life, still con- 
 founding all attempts at their prevention, and 
 still sweeping vast parishes, larger in popula- 
 tion than the whole town from whence this 
 volume emanates, with fierce and wide-spread- 
 ing desolation ! 
 
 The w^ord mitigation is here used advisedly. 
 "Est quiddam prodire tenus," &c., is a principle 
 not less trite than sound, tenable, and worthy 
 of all acceptation. "She hath done what 
 she could," is the infallible word of our 
 blessed Lord and Saviour, as to His estimation 
 of a certain good work. The writer of this 
 preface will not presume to pass any judg-
 
 Xll PEEFACE. 
 
 merit upon others. He will not take upon 
 himself to say that ant/ means which human 
 skill could possibly have devised, or national 
 munificence, applied, could have prevented 
 starvation and death in Ireland. PFe, at all 
 events, are not responsible, as individuals, for 
 the prev€7ition of the woes which the present 
 visitation has so fearfully brought in its train. 
 But there is a responsibility lying on each 
 one of us. We are responsible for their 
 mitigation, so far as depends on our exercise 
 of liberality, or on our employment of any 
 influence, talents, and means, whatsoever 
 they may be, with which we are intrusted 
 by God, England, as a nation, has reason 
 to thank God that this responsibility has been 
 so deeply and so widely felt through the 
 length and breadth of the land. That the 
 ravages of famine and the march of death 
 have been abundantly stayed and mitigated, 
 through the development of this feeling, and 
 through its practical exemplification in the 
 shape of bounty and relief forwarded to 
 Ireland, is a matter of which no doubt can 
 possibly exist. To question the fact would 
 scarcely be more absurd than to treat of it,
 
 rREFACE. XUl 
 
 as needing proof. Christian benevolence has 
 done, and is doing, a great work, although 
 the magnitude of the demand has been so 
 enormous and unprecedented in its character, 
 as to render the aid bj no means commensurate 
 with the wants of the vast population cry- 
 ing out for relief. Surely, the history of 
 English charity, on the present occasion, 
 would form in itself no uninteresting record ! 
 While, of course, it would present the ample 
 donations of the wealthy, some known, but 
 many more unknown, more touching and 
 instructive would that information be, bring- 
 ing to light "the riches of liberality," ex- 
 ercised in very many cases from very limited 
 incomes ; noticing contributions, which, if 
 not large in themselves, have been large when 
 viewed in comparison with the rank and 
 position of the donors ; sums saved by daily 
 and continued self-denial, after a manner 
 never exercised before ; gifts from children, 
 from servants, from the labourers and me- 
 chanics of England, from soldiers, from sailors, 
 from patients in hospitals, yes, even from 
 prisoners in gaols — indeed, from all classes, 
 and from individuals just in those very cir- 
 b
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 cumstances where there has been least to 
 give, and yet the wilHng heart has devised and 
 the willing hand has executed means in order 
 to add something io that sacred fund destined 
 to preserve life. 
 
 Neither, generally speaking, has the pulse 
 of charity beat less warmly and less truly, 
 although much has occurred which would 
 have chilled and interrupted it, had it not 
 been, in the main, under the influence of true 
 scriptural principle. All sorts of depreciating 
 narratives, relative to Irish character and to 
 Irish proceedings, have been spread through' 
 the country. Some of these have been un- 
 true, and some exaggerated ; although with- 
 out doubt, whether as regards landlords, or 
 whether as regards the poor, many things are 
 going on, calculated, in themselves, to check 
 extraneous efforts, w^ere they only to be 
 exercised in full complacency and undi- 
 minished satisfaction, as to the character and 
 conduct of all those persons, who are bene- 
 fitted, one way or other, by these means, or 
 who receive the bounty forwarded for their 
 use. The English people, too, have had to 
 pass over, with pity and disregard, the base.
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 contemptible, and incolierent threats against 
 them, as a nation, and as individuals, uttered 
 by the voice of certain Irish demagogues, 
 in language as hateful to all right-minded 
 men on one side of the Channel as upon 
 the other. Eight feelings have prevailed ; 
 and notwithstanding all the admitted difficul- 
 ties in the way of adequately helping the 
 sufferers in Ii-eland, and notwithstanding the 
 provocations, which the English have received 
 from a party in Ireland, mark — not from Ii-e- 
 land itself — still the stream of charity has 
 been scarcely interrupted. The plea and fact 
 of starvation has calmed all harsh sentiments, 
 and put to silence all national recrimination, 
 as exemplified in act and in deed. And, 
 if some have wickedly excused themselves, 
 from contributing to rescue life from the 
 grasp of death, by blaming governments, or 
 landlords, or demagogues, or the Irish pea- 
 santry themselves, yet, few have they been, 
 in comparison with those multitudes who, 
 casting all such thoughts to the winds, have 
 done their duty, and fulfilled the privilege of 
 Christian love, with no unfeeling heart, and 
 no scanty hand. 
 
 b 2
 
 XVI PREFACE. 
 
 May the same spirit and the same conduct 
 be still maintained ; yes, be abundantly in- 
 creased ! In the sight of man, and in com- 
 parison between man and man, many efforts 
 have been quite remakable ; many gifts truly 
 munificent. But, in the sight of God, every 
 one must confess and bewail his own de- 
 ficiency and selfishness in this as in all other 
 matters of the kind. The calamity is still 
 prolonged. Let Christian liberality be pro- 
 longed in a commensurate degree ! Many 
 gave largely a few months ago. But time 
 has since passed on, and many in this wealthy 
 country have now been again enriched with 
 fresh means of doing good, as God has 
 prospered them. So it has been with many 
 of the wealthy. So it has been with many 
 of more limited income. To each his por- 
 tion has now safely come. Out of that por- 
 tion let each one again liberally give ! Let 
 none be forgetful of distributing, or weary in 
 well-doing ! The famine and the pestilence 
 still cry out with a tongue reaching heaven, 
 " Whoso hath this world's goods, and seeth 
 his brother have need, and shutteth up his 
 bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth
 
 PREFACE. XVll 
 
 the love of God in him ? " " Let us not 
 love in word, neither in tongue ; but in deed 
 and in truth." 
 
 These few prefatory remarks might have 
 ended here. Nevertheless, the wi'iter, as a 
 minister of Christ, is unwilling to conclude 
 even these brief observations without making, 
 on a subject such as this, a more direct and 
 express reference to Him, who openeth His 
 hand and " filleth all things living with plen- 
 teousness," or, for a moment, in His wise 
 purposes, shutteth it, and men die, — who 
 upholds a nation in health and freedom from 
 the wasting pestilence, or bids it go forth 
 and destroy * countless multitudes. And yet 
 
 * Among all the means of mitigating and staying 
 the effects of this calamity which God has enabled any 
 residents in Ireland to execute and devise, none appear 
 to the writer more suited to the wants of vast parishes, 
 stretching over large portions of ground, but with few 
 towns, villages, or residents, qualified to act as relievers 
 of distress, than those measures, latel}' adopted in the 
 parish of Schull, by the Rev. F. F. Trench, of Clo- 
 jordan. His own parish being adequately provided 
 with help, he made the offer of exerting himself in 
 the locality just mentioned (the Rector of which, Dr. 
 Traill, has just gone to his rest from the midst of those 
 scenes of misery and those labours in which he met his 
 b 3
 
 XVni PREFACE. 
 
 upon this subject, — on the famine, nationally 
 speaking, among us, — so much has been 
 spoken from pulpits, and written in every 
 form, and rightly uttered by the lips of God's 
 faithful people in the land, specially in con- 
 nexion with that appointed *Day of Fasting 
 and Humiliation, so lately and so duly kept 
 throughout this whole realm, as to render it a 
 needless thing to repeat here those admonitions 
 and those reminiscences which have now 
 taken their place in the feelings of all our 
 countrymen who worship God in spirit and 
 in truth. Thanks be to God, His Name has 
 been abundantly proclaimed as a God near 
 and not afar off, — as one Avho " worketh 
 
 death), and has succeeded in preserving life to a very 
 great extent by the extension of eating-houses into 
 the distant localities, where, with eleven helpers, he is 
 now at work. Full details would have appeared in a 
 small volume, already advertised, as " Three Days at 
 Schull," by the Rev. R. C. Trench, had it not been for 
 the sickness of the writer, caught at the place in his 
 self-devoted work. 
 
 * The return made to the Secretary of State for the 
 Home Department, shows that the number of worship- 
 pers in every church, chapel, and place for Divine 
 worship in the metropolis, was not less than 627,637.
 
 PREFACE. XIX 
 
 hitherto" among the children of men, and 
 without whom not a sparrow falls, far less 
 can anything like famine and like pestilence, 
 arise and prevail, or diminish and depart. 
 Therefore, to one point, and to one point 
 only, shall the reader be directed here. That 
 is, to the claim and the appeal made at this 
 present moment upon all, to unite heartily 
 together, with faith and prayer, in beseeching 
 God the Father Almighty, for the sake of His 
 beloved Son, to be merciful unto our land 
 and favourable unto the people. The present 
 moment is one of unspeakable importance. 
 The severity of the winter, now just ended, 
 appears wonderfully calculated to effect the 
 destruction of that blight, and of those count- 
 less animalculge, which have been so observable 
 for two or three seasons past. And now, just 
 when required, the fertilizing showers fall, 
 and all promises well. Nevertheless, a certain 
 degree of waiting and suspense must of neces- 
 sity prevail as to the ensuing produce of the 
 earth. Scarcely can we form any adequate 
 conjecture yet, whether the seed of one 
 particular crop — the potato of course is
 
 XX PREFACE. 
 
 meant — has in it the taint of blight, or 
 whether the germ of life be restored to health 
 and vitality once more. Neither, indeed, 
 can we foresee, or premise, as to that cha- 
 racter which the general harvest will assume, 
 either in Great Britain or throughout the 
 world. It defies all imagination to calculate 
 the mighty consequences, one way or other, 
 which will attend the results. The present 
 time, therefore, is just and truly the precise 
 period in which to manifest faith without 
 wavering, hope without despondency, and 
 love without cold backwardness of trust in 
 the mercy and goodness of our God. Let, 
 then, the petition of our Litany not only be 
 the formal language of our lips, used on the 
 Sunday, and then laid by for the week, but 
 let it be formed within us, as our constant, 
 ever-ascending prayer, " That it may please 
 Thee to give and preserve unto us the kindly 
 fruits of the earth, so as in due time we may^ 
 enjoy them." And let us look straight up to 
 God for his blessing, through sun and showers, 
 through dews and clouds, through the vernal 
 breeze, and through the summer's glow.
 
 PREFACE. XXI 
 
 through all* human efforts, and through all 
 human skill ! Surely, if this be the spirit 
 of God's faithful people, in Great Britain and 
 in Christendom at large, we may expect, 
 
 * The writer of this Preface expects much benefit 
 to Ireland from the measures of Poor-law Relief just 
 introduced by Her Majesty's Government, although 
 well aware of many risks and difficulties attending the 
 measure. He cannot conceive any subject, of a ma- 
 terial character, more deserving of attention at this 
 moment, on the part of individuals of property and 
 station in Ireland, than endeavours to induce the 
 peasantry to adopt a species of garden cultivation, as 
 seen in England, and, perhaps, still more on the Con- 
 tinent, Many valuable tracts written for this purpose, 
 are well-known in Ireland, but personal labour and 
 attention on the part of those possessing influence, 
 must indeed be requisite, in order to effect any prac- 
 tical and permanent results. 
 
 With regard to general measures for remedying 
 social evils prevalent on an estate, as to the manage- 
 ment of land, and as to a most backward state of 
 civiHzation, Lord George Hill's " Facts from Gicee- 
 dore" a most interesting production, and costing only 
 half-a-crown, presents a record of signal judgment, 
 benevolence and success. The prevalent calamity has, 
 of course, for the present, up-turned much, but that 
 detracts nothing from the merit of the system pur-
 
 XXll PKEFACE. 
 
 without limit or stint to our anticipations, 
 that God Almighty, according to His gracious 
 ways, will grant that His promise of old time, 
 uttered to Jezreel, His seed and generation, may 
 find its parallel with us too. "I will hear the 
 heavens, and they shall hear the earth ; and 
 the earth shall hear the corn, and the wine, 
 and the oil ; and they shall hear Jezreel." * 
 Whereby the Spirit signifies, according to 
 the grand inspired diction of the East, that 
 we may look to the fruits and the crop, but 
 the?/ cannot answer us for good without the 
 teeming earth ; neither can the earth help 
 except by appealing to the sun, and the rain, 
 and the sky ; neither can these material 
 heavens avail anything at all, except by God's 
 hearing and commanding them ; but when this 
 mighty link, joining God's bountiful will to 
 the wants and comfort of man, is thus per- 
 fect and complete, then the blessing is attained 
 and sure. So let us trust in God, that He, 
 "who once did suddenly in Samaria turn great 
 scarcity and dearth into plenty,"! will crown 
 this year with plenteousness — the work of 
 
 * Hoseaii. 21, 22. 
 
 t " Prayer in Time of Pamine."
 
 PREFACE. XXlll 
 
 judgment having done its part, and the work 
 of mercy being renewed in its full glory and 
 strength, through Jesus Christ, the one only 
 Mediator, w^hether for nations, or for indi- 
 viduals, between God and man ! 
 
 Reading, May 7th, 1847.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ARRIVAL IN DUBLIN. 
 
 " God of the winds ! O hear our pray'r, 
 Safe passage now bestow ; 
 Soft o'er the slumbering deep, may fair 
 And prosperous breezes blow ! 
 
 " O'er the rough rock and swelling wave, 
 Do thou our progress guide ! 
 Do thou from angry ocean save, 
 And o'er its rage preside." 
 
 Fitzgerald's Ode to his Ship. 
 
 The 21st of April, 1829, we embarked on 
 board the St. Patrick. The wind was rough, 
 and the waves boisterous ; so that, even be- 
 fore day declined, all romantic notions about 
 observing — 
 
 " How bright beneath the moonbeam's smile, 
 Each httle billow heav'd its breast," 
 
 Lad totally vanished ; and amidst the wild
 
 2 CHAPTER I. 
 
 encounter of the waves of the Atlantic, 
 I was glad to retire to a sofa below, and 
 even to bequeath the celebrated beauties of 
 the bay of Dublin to my imagination only, 
 which was none of the most brilliant at that 
 moment. 
 
 On our arrival in Fitzwilliam-square, we 
 found our friends preparing to attend a 
 drawing-room at the Castle, and after having 
 tried to smile for a few minutes at the con- 
 trast between our woe-begone appearance, and 
 their gay courtly array, we gladly retired to 
 rest, and hailed the coming darkness that 
 called — 
 
 " Earth's weary children to repose." 
 
 I do not propose to dwell on the particulars 
 of our short sojourn in the city of Dublin. 
 It will suffice to say, that as strangers we 
 visited with great interest all its public build- 
 ings and institutions ; took daily drives in 
 its interesting environs ; and experienced so 
 much of kind attention, generous hospitality, 
 and cordial welcome amongst its agreeable 
 and well-bred circles, that a pleasing and 
 grateful remembrance of this pleasurable visit 
 has mingled with all our subsequent thoughts
 
 CHAPTER I. 3 
 
 and feelings, as associated with that beautiful 
 but now destitute and unhappy country. 
 
 Amongst the numerous public institutions 
 visited by us, we were particularly interested 
 by an inspection of the Royal Military School, 
 in the Phoenix Park, for the children of those 
 who have died in the service of their country. 
 Major S., with much politeness, showed us over 
 the whole establishment. We were also much 
 pleased with the Military Hospital, at Kil- 
 mainham, which is, I believe, precisely on the 
 Chelsea plan. It is a fine building surrounded 
 by lawns, woods, and walks. I much admire 
 the attention paid in the charitable institu- 
 tions of Dublin, not only to internal neatness 
 and comfort, but to external attractiveness. 
 The Irish appear to study the more sensitive 
 feelings of their fellow-creatures as well as 
 their bodily wants ; and this is as it should 
 be ; for people are but half charitable who 
 neglect it. How different must be the ap- 
 pearance noiv, when famine and pestilence 
 are abroad in that pleasant land ; and each 
 over-crowded hospital and kindly refuge 
 seems to be endued with a heart-rending 
 power of utterance, and to say, " Have pity 
 B 2
 
 4 CHAPTER I. 
 
 upon me, O my friends ; for the hand of the 
 Lord hath touched me ! " 
 
 The country round Dublin is beautifully 
 intersected by shaded avenues and green 
 lanes, amongst which we enjoyed our daily 
 drives ; and on two occasions, during our short 
 stay, enjoyable pic-nic parties were formed for 
 our entertainment, on the Killiney hills, 
 where the genuine hospitality of our friends 
 was displayed. We dined on the rocks under- 
 neath the obelisk ; and never did a party 
 assemble for the purpose of rural enjoyment, 
 amid scenery more beautiful. On one side, 
 the mountain lay in panoramic view ; below 
 us, the bay of Dublin, with the islands 
 thereto belonging ; the distant city of Dublin, 
 with the villages of Dalkey, Kingston, &c. ; 
 besides other striking features in the land- 
 scape ; but while gazing for a few moments 
 on that side, the eye irresistibly turned to the 
 still more lovely bay of Killiney, with the 
 little village of the same name, over which 
 the very spirit of peace seemed to be folding 
 her wings ; with the Wicklow mountains 
 rising in successive ranges behind. After 
 dinner we resigned our places to the servants,
 
 CHAPTER I. 5 
 
 and removed to a rocky drawing-room, at the 
 very edge of the craggy height, and passed 
 the time in cheerful conversation ; or in 
 listening to the happily chosen strains of 
 some of the company who sang their own 
 beautiful Irish melodies w^ith exquisite taste 
 and feeling ; whilst the little waves on the 
 sandy beach below^, returned a pleasing mur- 
 mur that soothingly mingled with the voices 
 above. It was one of those still close days, 
 when the partially clouded sky is so deeply 
 reflected in the w^ater. The variations of 
 light and shade were beautiful on the moun- 
 tains ; while a sort of soft mist floated over 
 the landscape like a silver veil, throwing a 
 shadowy beauty over every object without 
 obscuring it. 
 
 " How beautiful beneath the bright blue sky, 
 The billows heave ! One glowing green expanse : 
 Save where along the bending line of shore 
 Such hue is thrown, as when the peacock's neck 
 Assumes its proudest tint of amethyst — 
 Embath'd in emerald glory. All the flocks 
 Of ocean are abroad : like floating foam, 
 The sea-gulls rise and fall upon the wave." 
 
 There we remained, vainly wishing the surt 
 B 3
 
 6 CHAPTER I. 
 
 would delay the setting of his gorgeous 
 beams ; until the shades of evening began to 
 close around, and compelled us reluctantly to 
 dejDart. 
 
 The features of that landscape are still un- 
 changed ; but tones of cheerfulness no longer 
 rise from hearts buoyant with health and spi- 
 rits. Amidst those echoing rocks and valleys, 
 there is oft a sound, but it is that of " mourn- 
 ing, lamentation, and woe ;" and the mind 
 is filled with painful forebodings, by seeing 
 the fields untilled, and the once light-hearted 
 peasantry, if not actually suffering from 
 disease and sickness, idly moving about with 
 gloomy and dejected countenances, as if pos- 
 sessed Tvdth feelings only of hopeless despair.
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 AN EXCURSION TO THE COUNTY OF WICKLOW 
 
 "You bid me name the sweetest view 
 In Wicklow's lovely county, 
 Where nature sports with beauties new, 
 And charms us with her bounty. 
 
 " Avoca's valleys seem supreme, 
 
 The Dargle's views are neatest ; 
 But men of taste, will all exclaim, 
 The sugar-loafs the sweetest.''^ 
 
 Anonymous, 
 On being asked which was the sicectest view in Wicltlow. 
 
 On the 6tli of May, at six o'clock in the 
 morning, my two brothers and myself, set off 
 for an excursion into Wicklow. Spring was 
 opening in all its brightness and beauty ; the 
 sun shone gaily ; the hedges, the meadows, 
 the whole surface of the earth seemed fra- 
 grant with herbs and flowers. Having passed 
 Black- rock, Dunleary, Cabinteely, and Leigh-
 
 8 CHAPTER II. 
 
 linstown, we reached Braj, a distance of ten 
 miles, where we breakfasted. The great and 
 little sugar-loaf mountains, and the stately 
 Promontory of Bray Head, had been before 
 us in the distance, dimly veiled by the grey 
 mist of morning. After breakfast, E., and 
 myself, could not resist the pleasure of climb- 
 ing the lofty Head, though F., who was 
 familiar w^ith the country, persuaded us to 
 reserve our strength for mountains better 
 worth the trouble ; but its dark and gloomy 
 outline, had taken a strong hold on my imagi- 
 nation when I gazed at it from the hills of 
 Killiney. The height is only 807 feet, but 
 the perpendicular descent to the beach was 
 grand. We disturbed numerous flocks of 
 birds from the dark caverns of its inaccessible 
 cliffs. Very pretty pebbles are picked up on 
 the Wicklow coast, which, as the waves re- 
 cede, assume great brilliancy of colouring. 
 
 Leaving Quin's hotel, we went a little out 
 of the direct route to see Kilruddery House, 
 the seat of the Earls of Meath ; but none of 
 the family were in residence, and the porters 
 had positive directions not to admit any 
 person without an order. Whilst viewing the
 
 CHAPTER II. 9 
 
 exterior of this singular and beautiful build- 
 ing, a sudden storm passed over us from the 
 mountains, during which, we sheltered our- 
 selves as well as we could in the open phaeton, 
 with cloaks and umbrellas. It was soon 
 over, and as we passed through the narrow 
 valley, called the '^ Glen of the Downs," the 
 green earth, from the freshness of the shower, 
 seemed to laugh and sing. There was a light 
 and joyous air in the waving of the rich 
 foliage that clothed the abrupt hills on either 
 side the glen, which rise to an elevation of 
 twelve or thirteen hundred feet. It is so 
 completely shut in by these lofty eminences, 
 that the distance between the two sides, only 
 admits of a good carriage-road made above the 
 margin of a stream, which swollen by the 
 rain, went gurgling on with a melancholy 
 music of its own. At the head of this glen 
 is the village of Delgany, a lovely spot, com- 
 posed entirely of neat and tasteful cottages, 
 fitted up in a style of rustic elegance. It 
 contains also a handsome church, and the 
 whole character of the village shows how 
 much may be done by individuals, when duly 
 impressed with the sense of a Christian's
 
 10 CHAPTER II. 
 
 responsibility. It is provided with schools 
 and institutions for the poor, which though 
 now common in Ireland were first established, 
 we were told, by Mrs. La T. Often shall I 
 think of Delgany, and of little Eliza Dwyer, 
 a most interesting and intelligent child, with 
 whom we conversed some time at a cottage- 
 door, while she worked at coarse straw 
 bonnets, and told us all she learnt at school. 
 Belle Yue, the seat of the La T.'s stands 
 about a quarter of a mile from the village, in 
 the midst of its beautiful domain. We could 
 not see the house, as no strangers had been 
 admitted since the death of its proprietor, 
 except by a written order from his widow, 
 who was then in London. "We walked, how- 
 ever, tirrough the romantic grounds ; and by 
 permission, obtained with difficulty from an 
 old woman residing in the tasteful cottage, 
 where the rivulet swells into a wider expanse, 
 beneath the dark shade of the groves, we 
 ascended one of the hills by a circuitous road 
 through the woods, to an octagon building on 
 its summit, commanding an uninterrupted 
 view on every side. 
 
 The next point requiring observation, at
 
 CHAPTER II. 11 
 
 ■which we stopped, was Dunran, a narrow 
 defile between lofty hills of granite. A guide 
 appeared to conduct us through it, while the 
 carriage was taken on to meet us at the 
 other extremity. One side was richly clothed 
 with foliage from top to bottom, while the 
 character of the opposite side was that of 
 desolation ; though even there, trees have 
 sprung up with extraordinary luxuriance in 
 spots where no earth could apparently pro- 
 tect their rootSc A vast mass of granite, 
 about a hundred and fifty feet high, called 
 the Eagle Rock, stands out from the moun- 
 tain. The only defect in the scenery was the 
 absence of the mighty torrent's force ; though 
 at that moment the want of water was the 
 last of which we had reason to complain, so 
 plentifully were we supplied from the clouds 
 above ! For, alas ! a dull heavy rain con- 
 tinued to fall. The glen is about a mile in 
 length, and forms part of the property of the 
 Rev. Mr. F., whose house stands on an emi- 
 nence ; and in the centre of his garden is the 
 ruined castle of Kill-tymon. 
 
 Passing Newtown, Mount Kennedy, and 
 Ashford Bridge, we arrived at the last and
 
 12 CHAPTER II. 
 
 principal object of this day's wanderings, 
 " The Devil's Glen." Evening was rapidly 
 advancing, and the rain continued to de- 
 scend. 
 
 The question was, whether we should per- 
 severe in visiting this celebrated spot, under 
 such circumstances, or defer it. After some 
 brief discussion, it was determined that we 
 should proceed, and therefore we turned up 
 the narrow dizzy road leading to the lodge of 
 Glenmore Castle, the seat of F. Synge, Esq., 
 immediately under which is the entrance to 
 the glen. The woman at the lodge seemed 
 to doubt the practicability of a lady reaching 
 the head of the glen in such inauspicious 
 weather, as the ponies could not proceed 
 further with the carriage ; but having made 
 some little preparations against the wind and 
 rain, and courteously refused her kind offer 
 of a pair of pattens, we set off, and though 
 the rain was certainly a serious drawback to 
 enjoyment, yet I think the hour was alto- 
 gether better suited to the scene, for as the 
 gloom began to gather round, and threw 
 deeper shadows on the mountains, it assumed 
 much of the features of savage sublimity.
 
 CIIAPTEIl II, 13 
 
 that created a thrilling sensation of awe. 
 The glen is a mile in length, serpentine and 
 meandering ; vast craggy rocks hanging as 
 if in mid air, partly concealed by luxuriant 
 vegetation, and trees of grotesque and noble 
 growth shooting their green heads into the 
 air, where there was no apparent support for 
 their roots. On reaching the head of the 
 ravine, a sudden turn in the road displayed a 
 world of waters high upon the mountain 
 tops. Here the huge rocks closed, but over 
 the ledges, the river, whose foaming and im- 
 petuous course we had been accompanying, 
 seemed to fall as if from the clouds, in one 
 vast body from the height of a hundred feet ; 
 but was again broken in its mid-way course 
 by a second mass of rocks ; while to the right, 
 rushed down another, and a separate stream, 
 in one long unbroken line of foam. We 
 made all possible speed in returning, for 
 amidst the eternal gloom of those wild and 
 overhanging rocks, but little light remained 
 to direct us ; though the storm had subsided 
 so far as to permit us to walk without the 
 encumbrance of umbrellas. Little cascades, 
 swollen by the rain, were descending in 
 o
 
 14 CHAPTER n. 
 
 silvery lines on all sides, to mingle with the 
 roaring torrent as it struggled through its 
 deep and rocky bed. On regaining the high 
 road six miles still lay before us. Towards 
 the end of our journey we forded the 
 river Vartrey. The evening hour made 
 it look probably wider and more dismally 
 black, than it w^as in reality. My imagi- 
 nation was still excited by our recent visit 
 to the more turbulent part of its course, so 
 that, although not apt to express fear, I did 
 entreat that we might stop till some in- 
 quiries had been made at a neighbouring 
 cabin. We then dashed slowly and safely 
 through it, and found the light beaming from 
 the hotel, at the end of a long lane, a most 
 w^elcome sight. There we were provided with 
 some excellent tea and coffee, with toast and 
 eggs ; and cheered by a noble wood fire, 
 w^hich blazed up, and made the large, low, 
 and rather forlorn looking apartment look 
 quite comfortable. The chief object of at- 
 traction in the neighbourhood of Newrath- 
 bridge is Rosanna, the seat of the Tighes. 
 There is much told of the excellence of 
 the late Mrs. Tighe, who lived there, secluded 
 
 I
 
 CHAPTER II. 15 
 
 from the world, but always employed in 
 charitable undertakings. The daughter added 
 to the celebrity of this beautiful domain, by 
 her talent as an authoress. 
 
 The next morning we were again pre- 
 pared for our journey, soon after six, and fol- 
 lowing the right bank of the river through ro- 
 mantic and beautiful scenery, reached O'Neill's 
 hotel to breakfast. Here then we were at 
 the first meeting of the waters, in the cele- 
 brated vale of Avoca. It was very cold, and 
 the fire did not seem inclined to kindle 
 quickly ; but these minor troubles were soon 
 remedied. Our sitting-room window com- 
 manded a full view of that part of the vale, 
 where the Avonmore and Avonbeg united 
 their streams. Over the fire-place, framed 
 and glazed, was Moore's melody descriptive 
 of this spot ; and of course we were uncon- 
 sciously humming at intervals all the morn- 
 ing,— 
 
 " There is not in this wide world a valley so sweet, 
 As the vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet." 
 
 A month or two later, we should have 
 seen these valleys to greater advantage, when 
 c 2
 
 16 CHAPTER II. 
 
 the foliage had assumed more of summer 
 luxuriance ; or the still more beautiful 
 tintings of autumn ; but, as it was, it was 
 a scene of rare beauty, and surpassing 
 loveliness. 
 
 The demesne of Avondale extends a dis- 
 tance of two miles to the s^^ot where the 
 rivers meet, below the heights of Castle 
 Howard. Beyond this conflux, the stream 
 takes the name of the Avoca ; and about four 
 miles below this first meeting, there is a 
 second, formed by the junction of the Avoca 
 and the Aughrim. The grand attractions of 
 this vale are its woods and waters. A beau- 
 tiful little cottage occupies the tongue of 
 land formed by the first junction of the 
 rivers. There, on the root of a tree, Moore 
 is said to have Avritten his " Meeting of the 
 Waters,*' and of course we sat dow^n on it, 
 but I am afraid no immediate inspiration 
 followed. A closer inspection of Castle 
 Howard, did not come up to the ideas 
 we had formed of it from below ; though 
 built on the top of the hill, there is such a 
 wddth of level ground in front, that the 
 view did not answ^er our expectations, and I
 
 CHAPTER n. 17 
 
 seldom feel interested in tlie inspection of 
 modern houses. 
 
 Having crossed the wooden bridge at the 
 second meeting of the waters, we proceeded 
 along the opposite bank of the Avoca, through 
 the rich and beautiful vale of Arklow, which 
 we thought more attractive than the par- 
 ticular 
 
 "Vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet." 
 
 We passed many gentlemen's seats in our 
 way to Arklow, which is the most northern 
 point of the county ; and where the Avoca 
 becomes a wide river, and empties itself into 
 the sea ; and is there crossed by a bridge of 
 nineteen arches. The sight of a river, the 
 windings of which one has followed in its 
 impetuous tossings over rugged rocks, and 
 more solemn murmurings, through the 
 deepened forest glade, at length calmly 
 mingling with the mighty ocean, is always an 
 interesting subject of meditation. It is but 
 common place to observe what thousands 
 have observed before, its resemblance to our 
 own passage towards eternity ; the fretful 
 waywardness of childhood ; the deeper, head- 
 c 3
 
 18 CHAPTER 11* 
 
 strong passions of vouth ; the calm resigna- 
 tion and subdued feelings of declining age ; 
 the silent gathering to our fathers ; the 
 oblivion of time in eternity. But there is a 
 " river that maketh glad the city of God," a 
 "river, clear as crystal, that proceedeth from 
 the throne of God, and of the Lamb," and 
 which flows on for ever ! May the living 
 waters go out from the holy city, the new 
 Jerusalem, to renew the face of this barren 
 wilderness t until the earth be filled with the 
 knowledge of its rightful Lord, and King 
 Messiah return in glory. 
 
 At Arklow, where there seemed but little 
 to attract attention, we again crossed the 
 river, and continued in a direction from the 
 sea along its opposite bank till we arrived at 
 the woods of Shelton Abbey. After pro- 
 ceeding a mile through the heart of this wild 
 forest, the dark woods began to open on 
 lighter lawns and flower gardens. It was 
 grievous to see this striking domain, not 
 surpassed in beauty, and splendour of scenery, 
 by any of the " stately homes of England," 
 thus deserted by its noble owner who was then 
 resident in our island. The house is intended
 
 CHAPTER 11. 19 
 
 to represent an ecclesiastical structure of the 
 fourteenth century ; but as we could not gain 
 admittance we alighted, and Avalked about the 
 parterres ; and it was while contemplating 
 the beauties of this tranquil scene, that we 
 heard the cuckoo's voice for the first time, a 
 sound which never meets my ear without 
 carrying me back to the days of childhood, 
 and the wooded banks of the Severn, where 
 we used in all the exuberant glee of early 
 youth to imitate its voice, while gathering 
 the primroses so thickly scattered in that 
 beloved and lovely spot. 
 
 We passed through the grounds of Shelton 
 Abbey, and entered on those of Bally Arthur. 
 The woods on the opposite side of the river 
 are the property of Lord Carysfort. The 
 same characteristics of wild forest scenery 
 prevails ; playful cascades tumbling from the 
 rocks in every direction. To the yearly in- 
 habitant there may be something irksome in 
 that depth of solitude, and almost oppressive 
 sense of loneliness ; but on my mind, as a 
 stranger and a wanderer, the feeling was that 
 of unutterable enjoyment, as at times a gust 
 of wind swept down a deep ravine with a
 
 20 CHAPTER II. 
 
 wailing supernatural sound, or a stream 
 hurrying down the dark masses of rock as 
 evening drew on, produced beneath the 
 uncertain moon-beam a startling effect, as if 
 a sheeted spectre were crossing the path. 
 
 As we returned through the vale of Avoca, 
 we ascended the discoloured mountain to 
 examine the great Cronebane copper mine ; 
 and arrived at Kathdrum to a late tea. No- 
 thing could exceed the obliging civility of the 
 people belonging to this inn, who put them- 
 selves to much inconvenience in order to make 
 our night's sojourn there comfortable. A 
 little circumstance occurred, that caused us a 
 moment's merriment. I had mentioned, that 
 one of my companions was an invalid, and 
 that I hoped great care would be taken in 
 well airing his bed. What adventure could 
 possibly be expected to arise from this ? but, 
 lo ! about ten o'clock the sitting-room door 
 was thrown open, and a figure entered en- 
 tirely enveloped in blankets and sheets ; no 
 part of the head being visible but the top of 
 a cap. From this strange looking heap, a 
 shrill voice proceeded. " There now, feel 
 them ; they're quite hot ; sure now, hav'nt
 
 CHAPTER II. 21 
 
 they been well aired ? There's never any 
 fear with me, my lady. No ! no ! I am 
 going to make up the beds ; but just feel 
 them, Ma'am ! "
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Oh ! if yet in your bosom one last spark ye treasure, 
 Of love for the land of your sires, of your birth, 
 
 Return, and indulge in the soul-thrilling pleasure, 
 Of hailing that land 'mong the brightest on earth.'' 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
 The morning sun had not quite cleared 
 away the mists that rested on the moun- 
 tain tops, as we entered on the narrow 
 and rugged road leading to the celebrated 
 valley of the seven churches. The first view 
 is striking and singular, with more of 
 the sublime in it than we had hitherto 
 seen in Wicklow ; taking in the desolate 
 looking ruins, surrounded by memorials of 
 the dead ; the lofty round tower, and the 
 peculiar gloom of the lake, with its black, 
 rugged, and over-hanging barriers. From a 
 mud cabin, where we left the carriage, a most 
 intelligent guide issued. Probably, every
 
 CHAPTER 111. -23 
 
 one who, about the same time, visited Glen- 
 dalough, well remembers George Winder. 
 There was something rather fine in his coun- 
 tenance and brown curling hair and beard. 
 He hardly ceased talking the whole way ; to 
 me, a great annoyance, for I think that any 
 conversation breaking in on the religious sad- 
 ness and superstitious awe to which such 
 scenes give birth, must be of a very congenial 
 character, and uttered by a voice one loves to 
 hear, to be endured without impatience. We 
 passed through the gateway leading to the 
 once famous city of Glendalough, celebrated 
 as a seat of learning. The cathedral is the 
 most striking object. Every spot pointed out 
 to us, brought with it some wild legendary 
 tale from our loquacious guide. I will repeat 
 one for the sake of the Irish melody attached 
 to it. 
 
 " The masons and labourers who were em- 
 ployed in the pious task of erecting this 
 venerable structure were observed by St. 
 Kevin, the founder, to be gradually losing 
 that health which they appeared to have 
 possessed at the commencement of their 
 labours. Upon inquiry, it was found that
 
 24 CHAPTER ni, 
 
 their hours of labour were regulated by this 
 maxim, ' to rise with the lark, and lie down 
 with the lamb.' Now the lark in the valley 
 used to rise so unconscionably early that the 
 labourers were insensibly led into insup- 
 portable hardships. To remove this evil, the 
 Saint prayed that the lark might never be 
 permitted to sing in the valley of Glenda- 
 lough, which petition was accordingly 
 granted." 
 
 It is said, no lark is ever heard to sing 
 there ; and this legend is alluded to by 
 Moore, in one of his melodies : — 
 
 " By that lake, whose gloomy shore, 
 Skylark never warbles o'er." 
 
 Many superstitious ceremonies are urged 
 upon the attention of travellers by the guide, 
 such as embracing the large granite cross in 
 a particular way ; also putting the arm into 
 a circular aperture, and turning it round 
 three times, &c., who at the same time relates 
 the benefits likely to result from the due per- 
 formance of them. 
 
 It would be in vain to attempt repeating 
 all St. Kevin's miraculous doings, it was
 
 CIIAPTEK III. 25 
 
 quite enough to listen. There is a group of 
 large thorn bushes near the principal ruin 
 said to have been planted by the hand of the 
 saint, and of course greatly revered. I have 
 been told that thorn bushes are often subjects 
 of superstition in Ireland ; they fancy the 
 destinies of some particular persons are inter- 
 woven with them, and therefore, it is deemed 
 impious to injure them. 
 
 In the church, called Rhefeart, covered 
 with wild shrubs and ivy, is the resting-place 
 of the O'Tooles, kings of Imaly. It is sup- 
 posed, seven of them lie buried there. Be- 
 neath Lugduff, in a spot almost inaccessible, 
 are the ruins of a church, where St. Kevin 
 used to seclude himself during Lent, and 
 spend his whole time in penitence and 
 prayer. 
 
 The round tower is 110 feet in height, 
 and is the most perfect in Ireland of those 
 singular structures. 
 
 The ruins of the seven churches seem to 
 stand as sentinels at the entrance of the lake, 
 which is about two miles and a half in extent ; 
 having black and precipitous mountains 
 hanging over it on every side. The guide 
 
 D
 
 26 CHA.PTER III. 
 
 said, that the gloomy hue of this lake never 
 varied. The dark and frightful cliff of Lug- 
 duff, imparts its own dismal colouring to the 
 water below. In the front of the rock, 
 hanging perpendicularly over the water, at 
 the height of thirty yards, is the small cave 
 called " St. Kevin's Bed," which is approached 
 by a narrow path along the verge of the 
 precipice, from which one false step would be 
 fatal to the venturous explorer. The wind 
 came roughly down the glen, and rather 
 unpleasantly agitated the lake, as we crossed 
 its gloomy surface in a small boat. I could 
 have fancied old Charon at the helm, and 
 that I saw — 
 
 " The vagrant dead around the dark abode, 
 Waiting to cross th' irremeable flood." 
 
 As we crossed the water, a woman, who 
 was in the habit of performing such feats, 
 ran alons^ the narrow ledges of the whole 
 opposite line of cliff without shoes and stock- 
 ings, until she was at length seen clapping 
 her hands in the wonderful cave. She was 
 called Cathleen, from the fair Saint, who so 
 cruelly persecuted St. Kevin with her pro- 
 fessions of affection till he freed himself from
 
 CHAPTER 111. 27 
 
 lier insinuating wiles by pushing her head- 
 long into the lake below. Not a very 
 courteous proceeding in the Saint, but, un- 
 doubtedly, the most eiFectual one. The 
 mountains are seen to much greater advan- 
 tage from the lake towards its upper end, 
 where it is hemmed in by the dark and 
 frowning heights ; down which, it is evident, 
 from the deeply worn beds, that the headlong 
 torrents rush sometimes in wild confusion. 
 Comaderry rises 2,268 feet above the level 
 of the sea, and 1,567 feet above the surface 
 of the lake. On our return, we entered 
 Cathleen's cottage ; where, when our eyes 
 became accustomed to the smoky atmosphere, 
 w^e discovered six healthy looking children, 
 with their plump handsome looking mother, 
 all smiles and good humour. What a con- 
 trast to the heart-rending scenes noiu to be 
 witnessed through the length and breadth of 
 that unhappy land ; where thousands are 
 dying for want of sustenance, where disease 
 is ruthlessly ravaging large districts, and such 
 cabins as that of Cathleen's, are but as loath- 
 some sepulchres for the unburied dead, and 
 the wasted ghastly forms of the dying. 
 D 2
 
 28 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Near the ruins of a small abbey, is a re- 
 markable cut through the surface of a moun- 
 tain, attributed to the strength of the Giant, 
 Fian M'Cournal, who being charged with 
 want 'of strength, smote the hill with his 
 sword, cutting it from top to bottom ! There 
 is also a waterfall formed by a stream of 
 peculiarly cold water in consequence of the 
 sun never reaching it at any period of the day. 
 
 A drive of five or six miles brought us 
 from the gloomy vale of Glendalough to 
 Roundwood, where we breakfasted, and found 
 good accommodation for the short time we 
 remained there. During breakfast, we had 
 some conversation with the landlord of the 
 inn, as to another beautiful scene ; to arrive 
 at which, it would be necessary to go five 
 miles out of our direct route, and the way to 
 it had been described by the waiter at Rath- 
 drum, as " the Devil's own road ! " but our 
 worthy host at Roundwood, was a man of 
 taste ; "Why, Sir," he exclaimed with great 
 animation, " It looks, for all the world, as if 
 it had just dropped down from the heavens, 
 it comes so suddenly upon you." The elo- 
 quence of mine host prevailed.
 
 CHAPTER III. 29 
 
 The road turned off about a mile and a 
 half from Roundwood, between two moun- 
 tains Ballenrush, and the lofty Douce. We 
 walked up this steep and rugged way to re- 
 lieve our incomparable pair of ponies, Toby 
 and Lassie, whose exertions never seemed to 
 flag in our daily pursuit of the picturesque 
 and beautiful. On a sudden turn of the road, 
 this singular scene so suddenly burst on the 
 view as fully to verify our landlord's asser- 
 tion. The effect of contrast is wonderful in 
 this fairy region ; for nothing can be wilder 
 or more dreary than the mountain road by 
 which it is approached. Deeply sunk be- 
 neath the level of the country, are the two 
 profoundly dark lakes. Lough Dan, and Lough 
 Tay, encased on one side by beautifully 
 wooded hills, and hemmed in on the other by 
 the Carrigemanne and Douce mountains, 
 rising naked, wild, and rugged, the repre- 
 sentation of all that is desolate in nature. 
 To the left, through a deep glen far below, 
 struggled a small streamlet over masses of 
 rock that had rolled down the declivities. 
 We descended rapidly, and what a vision of 
 enchantment opened upon us as unsuspected 
 D 3
 
 30 CHAPTER III. 
 
 features of softness and loveliness were dis- 
 closed ! verdant lawns and sheltering woods, 
 plantations, pleasure-grounds, and gardens 
 gently descending to meet the rippling waters 
 of that lake from which the scene derives 
 its name. The bright and varied foliage 
 seemed to kiss the little waves that sparkled 
 and died away on the smooth sandy beach. 
 This sequestered abode is a hunting seat be- 
 longing to Mr. La Touche, and probably 
 seldom occupied by its owner. One's heart 
 seemed to rise and bless God, that there were 
 still such spots of loveliness in the waste- 
 howling wilderness of this fallen world, and 
 to seek more earnestly for the spiritual influ- 
 ences of Divine light and love to be shed 
 abroad through Erin's valleys and moun- 
 tains. 
 
 A legend is connected with this valley, 
 which states that it was the original pur- 
 pose of St. Kevin to erect his religious struc- 
 tures here, but that the persecutions of the 
 beautiful Cathleen, compelled him to abandon 
 this lovely site, for that of the gloomy shores 
 of Glendalough. We observed, while pur- 
 suing the road leading to Luggelaw, that
 
 CHAPTER III. 31 
 
 the face of the country, even of the more 
 level parts, was strewed with large detached 
 masses of granite and quartz ; yet there was 
 no higher land adjoining that over which 
 we were walking from which they could 
 have fallen, and with the exception of those 
 fragments, the surface of the ground Avas 
 not externally rocky, but covered with a 
 heathery barrenness. 
 
 The young woman who acted as our guide^ 
 was very talkative. She told us very gravely, 
 that though there were no Banshees in that 
 part of the country now, there were many 
 formerly. " Did you ever see one ? " asked 
 my brother, " No ; but, sure, mother hasj 
 often." "And what were they like?" 
 " Sure, and it was a little old woman ; and 
 she would git on a stone at our cabin door, 
 combing her hair." "And what did you 
 think was the object of this visit?" "O, 
 when they came, it was always to foretel a 
 death ; and when one died, two more were 
 sure to follow soon after ; and then they 
 would scream and shriek round the house." 
 She talked a great deal of the kindness of
 
 32 CHAPTER III. 
 
 the Roman Catholic, and Protestant pastors 
 of her parish ; the latter, she said, would 
 go to visit them by night, or by day, if 
 they were ill, without making any distinc- 
 tion on account of their religion. On further 
 inquiry, we were told that this excellent 
 clergyman had given up brighter prospects, 
 to supply the instruction so much needed in 
 those parts ; and that he and his wife de- 
 voted their whole time to the care and 
 instruction of this scattered population ; Mr. 
 H. preaching three times on the Sunday, 
 and also giving two lectures in the week. 
 
 Having bade adieu to Luggelaw, and pro- 
 ceeded a few miles, proof was given of our 
 enthusiastic feelings having subsided under 
 the influence of a dull monotonous road, by 
 the inclination generally expressed for some 
 little refreshment; but the country seemed 
 to stretch in hilly and dreary loneliness 
 around. Soon afterwards, an exclamation 
 from one of the party proclaimed the exist- 
 ence of a solitary cottage, with this grati- 
 fying notice over the door, — " Richard Mason, 
 licensed to deal in grocery, spirits, and malt.'*
 
 CHAPTER III. 33 
 
 One of the gentlemen went in to see wliat 
 was to be procured, and soon returned, fol- 
 lowed by a damsel bearing a small white loaf 
 of bread and a slice of fresh butter ; which, 
 under existing circumstances, seemed to us 
 more excellent than any bread and butter we 
 had ever eaten before or since. Whilst E. 
 was in the cottage he observed something 
 like a bee-hive in the chimney-corner. " And 
 what have you here ? " he asked. " Oh, 
 that's where the hens are laying, Sir." After 
 a time he observed something noddling in an 
 old barrel on the other side. " And what is 
 in that ?" ^' Sure, Sir, it's the goose laying." 
 One of the children was feeding the pig in 
 the same room from an old tin kettle ; and 
 whilst F. and I were watching the progress 
 of the affair in the phaeton outside, we 
 observed a calf walk out very leisurely, as 
 if to take the air. 
 
 Our next destination was the extensive 
 and interesting demesne of Powerscourt. 
 The celebrated waterfall is about two miles 
 from the noble residence. The hill down 
 which it falls is a shoulder of the Douce
 
 S4 CHAPTER III. 
 
 mountain, which rises 2,392 feet ; and is, I 
 believe, generally ascended from that part. 
 At a distance, we thought the long unbroken 
 line of silver looked tame and formal ; nor 
 did we estimate its real beauties till we 
 descended into its rocky bed, and sat for a 
 long time at its foot, with none of the excite- 
 ment and hurry of spirits caused by the more 
 tumultuous falls of the Devil's Glen. This 
 near approach Avould not have been prac- 
 ticable in a rainy season. I have since gazed 
 at the more gigantic fall of the Staubach, in 
 Switzerland, with somewhat of the same 
 feeling (if two such ill proportioned scenes 
 may be mentioned together), namely, that of 
 slight disappointment at the first view, but 
 with increasing interest after close examina- 
 tion. At the present time, when there is 
 such a cry against the non-resident landlords 
 of Ireland, it is pleasing to recollect how 
 much we heard of the kindness of many of 
 the resident nobility and gentry during our 
 visit to the country. Of the late Lord 
 Powerscourt many acts of beneficence were 
 related, particularly the establishment of
 
 CHAPTER III. 35 
 
 schools ; and Mr. D., the Rector of Powers- 
 court, was spoken of as a clergyman uni- 
 versally beloved and respected. 
 
 We did not examine the house, for I have 
 little interest in going over modern edifices ; 
 but driving through the beautiful deer park, 
 we made our exit at the gate leading to 
 Enniskerry. The situation of this village is 
 naturally beautiful : the cottages are tasteful, 
 having been built by Lord P. in a style 
 happily suited to the character of the sur- 
 rounding scenery. The whole neighbour- 
 hood is beautifully clothed with rich foliage, 
 the grounds of Powerscourt, Charleville, the 
 seat of Lord Rathdown, Ballyornan, the seat 
 of W. Quin, Esq., and the sylvan scenery in 
 the valley of Tinehinch, all combining to 
 enrich this thickly wooded and attractive 
 locality. 
 
 After having taken an early dinner at the 
 inn, we walked leisurely towards the Dargle, 
 a deep dark-wooded glen, whose oj^posite 
 sides are so near to each other that room 
 only remains for the mountain-stream, which 
 perpetually roars, and struggles onward 
 through opposing fragments of rock. We
 
 36 CHAPTER III. 
 
 wandered for hours through irregular wind- 
 ing paths, now amid the rocks at the bottom 
 of the glen, watching the little cascades 
 dashing from side to side, now ascending 
 dizzj heights, among rich groves of oak, 
 and clinging to the hanging rocks, as we 
 pictured to our imagination the convulsive 
 shock by which they had been originally 
 rent asunder. The opposite side of the glen 
 rises almost perpendicularly from the water's 
 edge, one green mass of foliage from the top 
 to the bottom. There is no considerable 
 fall ; but it is an ever changing scene, 
 sometimes rising to awful sublimity ; dark 
 impending rocks frown horribly above, and 
 the refractory waters thunder beneath ca- 
 verned rocks below ; at other times presenting 
 deep forest shades or more open scenes of 
 sylvan beauty. 
 
 From this scene of loveliness, so attractive 
 during the season to the crowds of holiday- 
 makers who resort to it from the populous 
 streets of Dublin, we returned to the capital. 
 The distance is eight miles. The road lies 
 through an extraordinary chasm, called the 
 Scalp. The precipitous heights on both sides
 
 CHAPTER III. 3^ 
 
 are covered with prodigious disjointed masses 
 of stone, that seem to threaten the traveller 
 with destruction. One could fancy the Titans 
 of old had been playing a spirited game at 
 football there, where the secret recesses of 
 nature seem to be laid bare. Evening was 
 closing in, and the shades of night threw an 
 undefined gloom over this representation of 
 chaos, unsoftened by any vestige of vegeta- 
 tion. After all the excitement of the pre- 
 vious days, we passed through it in silence. 
 I do not think a word was spoken after the 
 first burst of surprise ; but the eye almost 
 fearfully measured the heights, till it rested 
 on the bright and twinkling stars that looked 
 down upon us from above, then slowly 
 descended on the opposite side T^^th a half- 
 shivering feeling of insecurity. The young 
 May moon seemed to shine with unusual 
 brilliancy as we issued from the dark defile. 
 It was the loveliest evening that we had seen, 
 during our short absence. 
 
 " How beautiful is night ! 
 A dewy freshness fills the silent air ; — 
 No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain» 
 
 Breaks the serene of heaven :
 
 38 CHAPTER III. 
 
 In gentle beauty, yonder moon divine 
 Kolls through the dark blue depths : — 
 How beautiful is night ! " 
 
 Nothing more of an interesting descrip- J 
 tion came in our way. And after passing 
 through a few villages of little note, we 
 arrived safely in Fitzwilliam-square, a little 
 after ten o'clock, much gratified with our 
 pleasant excursion into Wicklow.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 VISIT TO GLIN CASTLE AND THE SCENERY 
 
 ABOUT BALLYBUNNION. 
 
 " Erin's cause hath been heard, men have wept at her 
 story, 
 Alas ! that a land of such beauty should mourn ! 
 Have her children ne'er grac'd the high niches of glory ? 
 Was kindness ne'er known in their bosoms to burn ? 
 
 " Yes, rich as the mines which her teeming hills nourish, 
 Are the stores of their genius, which nature imparts ; 
 And sweet as the flow'rs in her valleys that flourish, 
 The fragrance of feeling that breathes from their 
 hearts." Anonymous. 
 
 On the 13th of May, we again left Dublin, 
 to visit the Lakes of Killarney. The country 
 through which we passed, was far from 
 interesting ; ninety-six Irish miles of flat 
 unvaried road, with only an occasional ruin 
 to divert the attention. Cultivated fields, 
 rich woods, and graceful plantations, had 
 given place to dreary tracts of bog, or sullen 
 E 2
 
 40 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 looking loughs, with here and tliere a 
 wretched mud cabin. It seemed as if nature 
 had collected all her best materials together 
 to adorn and beautify the county of Wicklow, 
 and had turned the refuse out into the dreary 
 district between Dublin and Limerick. It is 
 a general remark, that nature has done much 
 for Ireland, and man but little ; and as the 
 traveller looks at the vast districts of unpro- 
 ductive land, with no sheltering bush for the 
 shivering cattle, or timber and vegetation for 
 the service of man, he cannot but acknow- 
 ledge the truth of the assertion. Where are 
 the cultivated fields and neat hedge-rows, the 
 thriving farms, the well-fed cattle, and pro- 
 tective fences of England ? But the Irish 
 need a stimulus to exertion ; and, unfortu- 
 nately, among them is not found the pride of 
 long-continued possession, the connexion 
 between landlord and tenant, master and 
 labourer, which, in our more favoured island, 
 leads the sturdy and industrious tenant of 
 the well-ordered cottage to say, — 
 *' Ere round the huge oak which o'ershadows my mill, 
 
 The fond ivy had dared to entwine ; 
 Ere the church was a ruin that nods on the hill, 
 
 Or a rook built a nest in the pine.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 41 
 
 " Could I trace back the time to a far distant date. 
 
 Since my forefathers toiled in this field ; 
 
 The farm I now hold on your honour's estate, 
 
 Is the same which my grandfather till'd." 
 
 It is said, that the moistness of the Irish 
 climate, its mild humidity, is conducive to 
 health, and to the favourable cultivation of 
 the soil, and the country is rich in natural 
 productions. The Irish people are peculiarly 
 acute and intelligent if their powers were 
 rightly directed, but though they can make 
 the witty reply, the shrewd remark, the 
 humorous observation, they fail in patient 
 persevering habits of industry ; and have no 
 value for the cheaply earned comforts, so 
 necessary to the existence of the English 
 cottager, who feels that a wretched hovel is 
 not his right position ; but we may fondly 
 hope, and fervently pray, that when it shall 
 please God to remove from off this unhappy 
 land the present burden of his chastising 
 hand, a brighter day will dawn, and the 
 crumbling mud walls, the windows stuffed 
 with rags, and the pestilential heap before 
 the doors, will, in time, be looked upon as a 
 rare sight ; a mere relic of the days gone by. 
 E 3
 
 42 " CHAPTER IV. 
 
 We stopped to breakfast at Naas, formerly 
 the residence of the kings of Leinster. 
 Within twenty miles of Limerick, Nenagh, 
 with its strong castle, occupied our thoughts 
 for a short interval ; and afforded us some 
 entertainment from the vast concourse of 
 people assembled there. The beggars are 
 very importunate in all Irish towns ; there we 
 were surrounded by a host of them ; but, 
 certainly, the eloquence of an Irish beggar 
 is very persuasive. " Sure, now," said a 
 wretched-looking woman, coming up to the 
 carriage window, " That's the lady that's 
 giving you good advice. Sir, and persuading 
 you to relieve the poor cratur that's wishing 
 the Almighty may speed you on your journey. 
 And long life and happiness to your Honour, 
 and to your Honour's lady. Sure now. Sir, 
 and ar'nt you feeling in your pocket for the 
 half-penny ?" 
 
 Ten miles further on, we passed through 
 Killaloe, and by the Bishop's pretty resi- 
 dence, to the right. Our introduction into 
 Limerick proved rather a noisy and expen- 
 sive one ; for the large sitting-room into 
 which we were ushered at our hotel, proving
 
 CHATTEK IV. 43 
 
 very close, our first act was to throw up one 
 of the windows ; but as window cords did 
 not appear to be considered indispensable 
 requisites in this locality, the uplifted sash 
 having remained stuck open for a minute 
 or two, came down with a tremendous crash, 
 to the utter dismay of a brace of waiters, who 
 rushed in, and the demolition of five panes of 
 glass ! As my object is brevity, I will 
 not stop to describe the well-known city of 
 Limerick, the handsome houses and streets of 
 the new town, and the indescribable filth and 
 wretchedness of the Irish town, of which, as 
 we saw it after a day of incessant rain, no 
 adequate conception can be given ; yet we 
 met with great attention and civility from the 
 inmates of those abodes of misery ; for on 
 several occasions, when standing on one foot, 
 with the other uplifted as in doubt, where to 
 find a firm resting-place, the inhabitants of 
 those wretched cellars came out with obliging 
 haste to remove little obstructions out of the 
 path ; to point out the cleanest way ; and 
 even to put stones to form stepping -places 
 through the mud. As I now recall their 
 kind and obliging ways, my heart feels sad
 
 44 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 to think of their present increased state of 
 poverty and destitution. 
 
 We were not sufficiently pleased with our 
 large but comfortless quarters at Limerick, to 
 remain beyond the middle of the following day, 
 when we travelled on to Rathkeale ; where, at 
 a neat-looking, white-washed thatched hotel, 
 we found everything in a little way beautifully 
 clean and wholesome. The landlady looked 
 good-humoured ; the waiter was a comely 
 active lad ; and Kitty, the maid, was the 
 picture of health, cleanliness, and civility. 
 The oak table was bright, the peat-fire com- 
 fortable, and to crown all, we had the good 
 fortune to discover a few spoonsfuU of good 
 green tea, in close neighbourhood with the 
 souchong, so, as we found there was no pos- 
 sibility of getting on to Glin that evening, 
 we made the best of our disappointment, and 
 enjoyed our simple entertainment greatly. 
 
 The Knight of Glin had kindly sent his 
 carriage to meet us the day before ; but, in 
 consequence of some mistake in our letters, 
 we did not arrive on the day we were ex- 
 pected. One person in the town kept a 
 chaise, but it was not " convanient " to pro-
 
 CHAPTER IV. 45 
 
 vide a pair of horses ; lie was also possessed 
 of a car, but the horse was ploughing, "Is 
 your car a good one ?" " Sure, Sir, I can't 
 say its very tight ; but it might carry your 
 Honour as far as Glin ; " and he repeated his 
 resolution of having it fitted up quite " ille- 
 gantly^^ and that it should be ready to con- 
 vey us by five the next morning. 
 
 At Rathkeale, we had an opportunity of 
 witnessing an Irish funeral. It was a singu- 
 lar scene. The melancholy howl of several old 
 women, as they embraced certain graves, and 
 threw their arms into the air with the pas- 
 sionate action of maniacs, and vehemently 
 expressed their outrageous grief, seems still 
 to sound in my ears. The men made no loud 
 demonstrations of sorrow, but repeatedly 
 crossed themselves whilst kneeling at dif- 
 ferent graves. A company of young women 
 with long cloth cloaks, but without any 
 covering to their smartly dressed hair, knelt 
 also, with their arms demurely folded ; but 
 evidently only engaged in watching the move- 
 ments of others. After the cofiin had been 
 carried round the church-yard, it was lowered 
 into the grave, the mould was rapidly
 
 46 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 shovelled in, and some pieces of turf carried 
 by the men, were laid upon it, the crowd 
 then quietly dispersed, leaving a neatly- 
 finished turf grave, amidst the other simple 
 mementos of the dead. On our return 
 through the village, the pigs were also re- 
 turning from their evening promenade, and 
 stepping in through the cabin doors, as 
 naturally as we did into our rustic inn. We 
 also saw the car undergoing the proposed 
 embellishments ; pieces of leather of various 
 dyes were being nailed over the sides. The 
 holes had been crammed full of hay, and 
 some old moth-eaten bags were having a 
 bountiful stuffing of chaff ; — " For sure, and 
 I'd like your Honour to have some cushions ; 
 and the Knight knows I'm not the man to 
 hinder any quality from going to the castle ; 
 and so, your Honour, for fear of any delay 
 on the road, we're just making it a little 
 safe." This was the master's address to us, 
 as w^e passed. It was six o'clock the next 
 morning before everything could be pre- 
 pared for our departure. The poor animal 
 that had been brought from the plough 
 sighed heavily at the prospect before him ;
 
 CHAPTER IV. 47 
 
 and we perliaps had some reason to sigh too, 
 as we beheld the crazy vehicle. The chaff in 
 the vaunted cushions having no idea of any 
 centre of gravitation, moved off rapidly to 
 the right and left, thereby, at any rate, pre- 
 serving our elbows from the contusions 
 which they might otherwise have sus- 
 tained. 
 
 The appearance of the country for some 
 distance was rich and fertile ; the undulat- 
 ing ground well cultivated and chequered 
 with the gay blossoms of numerous orchards. 
 These characteristics gradually changed for 
 those of a wilder character, not mountainous, 
 but rugged. At the end of three miles, our 
 little driver alighted and walked round the 
 car. Not supposing that it could be for the 
 love of contemplating such a specimen of the 
 coach-builder's art, E. asked him what he 
 was doing ? " Only looking at the wheels 
 a bit, your Honour ; master bid me look, 
 now and then." After a time, we came to 
 another halt. Some part of the harness was 
 broken. Our charioteer selected a stone from 
 the road side, drew some nails from his 
 pocket, and hammering them through the
 
 48 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 leather, doubled the points down on the 
 opposite side. We preferred walking a great 
 part of the way, for the road, after a few 
 miles, followed the course of the majestic 
 Shannon, which flowed smoothly on, unruffled 
 by the slightest breeze, and the little vessels 
 with their white sails brightening in the 
 morning sun, seemed scarcely to move on its 
 smooth surface. We stopped, in rapturous 
 admiration, to admire the lovely village of 
 Adair. A river winds beautifully through 
 dark overhanging woods, from the midst of 
 which, on either side, rise the graceful and 
 ivy clad ruins of a castle and monastery ; the 
 loftier points of which were lighted up with 
 the morning sun, while the others were still 
 enveloped in a sort of pensive and religious 
 gloom. The calm still waters reflected the 
 overhanging and luxuriant foliage. The 
 whole of this village once belonged to the 
 Fitzgeralds of Glin, but was forfeited in the 
 reign of Elizabeth. 
 
 As we proceeded, the noble Shannon still 
 accompanied us, flowing at some depth below 
 the road, by wooded creeks, or barren and 
 turreted headlands ; the distance between the
 
 CHAPTER iV. 49 
 
 opposite shores every moment increasing, as 
 we drew nearer our destination. 
 
 We had been led to suppose that we should 
 reach Glin Castle by nine o'clock, whereas it 
 was eleven before we arrived at the lodge - 
 gate. On our arrival, we were received with 
 warm hospitality and kindness by our friends, 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald, and her two interesting 
 little daughters, Geraldine and Margaretta. 
 Here we spent some days most agreeably. 
 Sailing in the yacht, wandering in the woods, 
 and similar occupations, varying the pleasant 
 intercouse of conversation about our mutual 
 connexions and friends. 
 
 One day was devoted to visiting some 
 scenery at Ballybunnion, about twenty-six 
 miles distant, which is not often visited by 
 tourists. In our way we stopped to inspect 
 the ruins of Lislochtin Abbey, the tower of 
 which is still perfect. Every niche w^as piled 
 up with human skulls and bones. Numbers 
 of persons are still year by year buried in 
 the cemetery attached to the ruin ; as is the 
 case at Glendalough, to which corpses are 
 brought for interment from the most distant 
 parts of Ireland. Wild and uncivilized is the 
 
 F
 
 50 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 country about Ballybunnion. The children 
 seemed only to have shreds of clothing hang- 
 ing about them ; and there were a few playing 
 about some of the hovels, without even that 
 slight encumbrance. 
 
 It is a singular part of the country, and 
 difficult to describe. The mighty Shannon 
 here pours forth its copious flood through 
 gigantic portals, nine miles asunder, into the 
 wide ocean. The whole line of coast is 
 wonderful. On approaching it, for some 
 distance, nothing is visible but a dreary 
 desert of undulating sand-banks, that with 
 the war of elements seem ready to swallow 
 up the whole scattered population. We de- 
 scended to the shore by a difficult path 
 through the bed of a mountain torrent, down 
 which a slender stream was trickling. This 
 was a manoeuvre of the Knight's, that the 
 scene might burst more unexpectedly upon 
 us. Having arrived at the bottom of this 
 steep declivity, we found ourselves on the 
 fine smooth sand of a small bay ; but our eyes 
 were soon fixed in rapturous admiration at 
 the rocks above and around ; the stratifica- 
 tion of which is most singular ; sometimes
 
 CHAPTER IV. 51 
 
 perpendicular, sometimes horizontal, and va- 
 riously tinted with the most brilliant colours. 
 They are excavated by the action of the 
 waves into numberless caverns ; one in par- 
 ticular penetrates to a great distance, but the 
 tide will seldom admit of its being visited, 
 and when the water is at all rough, it is not 
 unattended with danger. We examined 
 several of these caverns, and passed through 
 some extraordinary fissures. We then 
 ascended the rocks, and followed the windings 
 of the cliff, accompanied by a guide, which is 
 considered desirable on account of the frightful 
 chasms that often yawn unexpectedly beneath 
 the feet. Nothing could greatly surpass the 
 gloomy grandeur of the scene, as we looked 
 down from the dizzy height into the hideous 
 gulfs, where the finest natural arches, sur- 
 passing in magnitude those of art, were 
 casting their dark shadows ; and listened 
 to the hollow sound of the rebounding waves 
 mingled with the shrill cries of curlews and 
 other birds that were flitting about within 
 those dread and mysterious regions. The 
 Knight told us, that he had gazed on the 
 scene, when the wild waves rushing in from 
 F 2
 
 52 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 the Atlantic entirely covered those vast 
 arches. The guide pointed out one unfathom- 
 able gulf, as he described it, where the heavy 
 dull waves passing through can be heard on a 
 still night at Glin ! The whole shore is 
 deeply indented, and each of those small bays 
 differs from the rest in formation and charac- 
 ter. High above them, many hiding-places 
 of smugglers were shewn to us in places 
 which seemed inaccessible. 
 
 Having followed the coast for some miles, 
 we returned by a shorter route to the place 
 from which we set out ; and on the brow of 
 a hill crowned with the old ruined castle, we 
 spread out the eatables which we had taken 
 with us in the carriage. A woman living in 
 the vicinity had boiled some potatoes, which 
 she brought up the hill to us in a huge iron 
 pot. After this gipsy -like repast, we re- 
 turned to Glin Castle, where we arrived to a 
 late dinner, turning our backs with regret 
 upon the estuary of that magnificent river, the 
 course of which we had followed for two 
 days. In a pamphlet relative to this river, 
 published by C. W. Williams, Esq., the 
 Shannon is said to be unequalled in the
 
 CHAPTER ly. 53 
 
 British empire, embracing 234 miles of con- 
 tinuous navigation, and from the circum- 
 stance of its running through the centre of 
 the kingdom, it may be compared, for pur- 
 poses of intercourse, to double that length of 
 coast. It washes the shores of ten counties 
 out of thirty-two, all abundant in population, 
 and susceptible of receiving great extension 
 and improvement in their agriculture. These 
 facts are indicative of what might be done 
 through the instrumentality of this one river. 
 
 F 3
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 EXCURSION TO THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY. 
 
 " When stung to despair, in their wildness, what wonder 
 If sometimes their souls from affection might rove! 
 That frenzy subsiding, their feelings the fonder, 
 Will seek their own halcyon channel of love? 
 
 " Let the past be forgotten ! Yet shalt thou, fair Erin, 
 Fling off the base spells which thy spirit enslave; 
 Thou shalt, like the sea-bird, awhile disappearing, 
 Emerge with thy plumage more bright from the 
 
 Notwithstanding the many kind and press- 
 ing invitations that we received to prolong 
 our visit, we quitted Glin with much regret, 
 on the 20th May, and travelled that evening, 
 twenty-eight miles to Tralee, and from 
 thence, the following morning, to Killarney. 
 Nothing could exceed the extreme civility and 
 obliging conduct of all the Irish post-boys 
 and coachmen, or drivers, with whom we 
 had anything to do. They w^ould often stop.
 
 CllArTEK V. 55 
 
 or turn round to direct our attention to re- 
 markable objects ; and I had reason to be 
 indebted to the great anxiety evinced by one, 
 that the very enchanting view of the first 
 approach to Killarney should not be lost upon 
 us. It was a close calm summer's day. 
 There was a jDCculiar softness in the scenery ; 
 and the effect of light and shade on the Kerry 
 mountains which lay directly before us was 
 particularly fine. Captain H., the son of the 
 Rector of K., to whom we were introduced 
 at Glin, and whose infancy and boyhood had 
 been spent amongst the attractive scenery of 
 Killarney, and his maturer years in scientific 
 investigations connected with its lakes and 
 mountains, had kindly offered to accompany 
 us, and initiate us into its beauties. Having 
 breakfasted at the hotel, he went to order a 
 boat to be in readiness, and shortly after re- 
 turned to us, equipped in a sailor's dress. A 
 walk of a mile brought us to the edge of the 
 lower lake, at Ross Castle, which stands on 
 an island of the same name containing some 
 mines of lead and copper. We obtained a 
 fine view from the ruined walls ; but were 
 too impatient to remain there lonsr, so tliat
 
 56 CHAPTER V. 
 
 we were soon seated in the boat, "vvhich was 
 in readiness to receive us. 
 
 The rocks in the lower lake are worn into 
 many fanciful shapes. A perpendicular one, 
 thirty feet above the water, is called O'Dono- 
 hoe's prison, a mere barren rock, yet out of its 
 fissures grow the arbutus, ash, and holly. 
 But if the reader be unacquainted with the 
 wild legends of Killarney, he ought to be in- 
 formed that the Giant O'Donohoe used to 
 cause his most obstinate enemies to be chained 
 on this rock, and there to perish by cold and 
 famine, till they acknowledged his authority. 
 Of course, he still haunts the spot, says the 
 legend, and may often be seen moving on the 
 surface of the waters with his snow white 
 steed. 
 
 Innisfallen, on which we first landed, is a 
 lovely island, a scene of rich luxuriance and 
 tranquillity ; such perfect tranquillity ! It 
 
 seemed — 
 
 "As if the gen'ral pulse 
 Of life stood still, and nature made a pause ;" 
 
 though there could have been but little 
 pause in her more secret operations, for the 
 arbutus and holly grow to an extraordinary
 
 CHAPTER V. 57 
 
 size, and with the oak, alder, wild myi'tle, &c., 
 sometimes enclose little verdant lawns, and 
 sometimes form the deepest forest shade ; 
 here a portion of the ruined monastery ap- 
 pearing, there the encircling lake, or beyond, 
 the lofty heights of Mangerton, Turk, and 
 Glena. On every side, the approach to this 
 gem of an island is different, and its beauti- 
 fully undulating surface adds to its attractive- 
 ness. It was one of those still warm days, 
 when the deep silence of nature is only 
 broken by the dreamy hum of insects and 
 the warbling of birds. In one part a large 
 hawthorn had forced its way through a friar's 
 stony grave. Enormous clusters of prim- 
 roses were bursting even from the cement of 
 the stone walls, whilst violets, London pride, 
 and other flowers, clothed the bare surface of 
 the rocks. The narcissus, deliciously fra- 
 grant, grows wild in many parts, particularly 
 among the Killarney mountains, where we 
 gathered it in profusion. 
 
 The lakes are three in number, and are dis- 
 tinguished as the lower, middle, and upper 
 lakes ; each presenting a distinct character 
 of scenery. The lower lake is the largest
 
 58 CHAPTER V, 
 
 expanse of water, and the only one on which 
 danger is to be apprehended, on account of 
 the difficulty of getting under shelter in time 
 when a sudden hurricane sweeps down the 
 mountains. As we rowed over its then 
 smooth surface on leaving Innisfallen, Tomies 
 and Glena seemed to rise at some distance 
 abruptly from the water, thickly wooded at 
 their bases, but elevating their towering 
 summits to the sky, with much of rugged 
 grandeur. As we drew nearer, however, 
 their rocky heads were concealed, and a 
 range of forests seemed to clothe their whole 
 surface. To the east and north of the lower 
 lake there are no mountains, which gives a 
 tameness to that quarter beyond what I had 
 expected to meet with at Killarney. After 
 rowing about a mile and a half, we landed 
 at the foot of the huge Tomies (I only speak 
 by comparison, as its height is not more than 
 2,150 feet), and following a toilsome rugged 
 path through the thick wood, we reached 
 O' Sullivan's Cascade. It is a very fine one, 
 arising chiefly from the mind being kept 
 in a state of such half fearful suspense and 
 expectation by the roar of the torrent, which 
 
 i
 
 CHAPTER V. 59 
 
 is heard at a great distance, the deepening 
 gloom of the forest, and the depth of the 
 ravine into which the water, bursting suddenly 
 on the view, dashes from a height of seventy 
 feet ; but it has three divisions, the two first 
 falling successively into rocky basins, the 
 third descending into regions of darkness 
 below. There we lingered for a considerable 
 time, sitting down on some rocks near the 
 edge of the cascade, watching the stray sun- 
 beams as they vainly struggled to penetrate 
 the impervious shade, and idly gathering the 
 London pride, and other wild flowers, that 
 covered the bare rocks, even in the centre of 
 the stream. Yet, after a time, the noise, 
 appearing as it did to increase in intensity, 
 became almost insupportable, as by the help 
 of the trees we swung ourselves rather than 
 walked down the declivity, and again em- 
 barking, glided along the shores of the 
 gigantic Tomies and Glena. 
 
 Mr. H. dexterously fixed our attention on 
 the scenery that lay behind us, until the boat 
 had completely entered the bay of Glena ; he 
 then suspended his eloquence to enjoy in silence 
 the thrilling sensation of rapture with which
 
 60 CHAPTER V. 
 
 we gazed around. There rose the majestic 
 Turk and gloomy Mangerton, with many a 
 mountain behind ; there was the descending 
 forest, dipping its foliage in the water ; whilst 
 above arose, in stern magnificence, the bare 
 and rugged rocks. At the head of the bay, 
 we landed at Glena Cottage, a little paradise, 
 the property of Lord Kenmare, but much 
 neglected in consequence of being only oc- 
 casionally occupied by parties on shooting 
 excursions. The islands of Dinis and Brickeen 
 form a separation between the lower and 
 Turk lakes. The narrow passages between 
 them are very romantic, which rendered Dinis 
 island, where we next landed, to my eye, far 
 more attractive than the lovely Innisfallen. 
 Amongst the rich variety of trees clothing the 
 banks of the passage, and wildly overhanging 
 the water, the arbutus grows to an enormous 
 size, the roots appearing in many places to be 
 embedded in the solid rocks. The scene was 
 rendered more picturesque by the old bridge 
 of Brickeen, consisting of one gothic arch, 
 through which, we were told, our boat was 
 " to shoot " the folloAving day. 
 
 In one of the verdant lawns, surrounded
 
 CHAPTER V. 61 
 
 by groves of melody and beauty, -and gently 
 sloping down to the smooth beach, on which 
 the little waves were breaking with a very 
 slight murmur, we had our baskets of pro- 
 visions laid out, the boatmen sitting at some 
 little distance. Such sylvan scenes are favour- 
 able to imaginative creations ; — and truly all 
 that imagination can conceive of the wild, the 
 romantic, and the beautiful, was there brought 
 before the eye, — still more to spiritual com- 
 munion with things unseen as yet ; even as 
 Moses, who, while gazing on the rich valleys, 
 majestic mountains, and vine-clad hills of the 
 promised land, was raised in spirit above the 
 earthly Canaan, till heaven, with all its glo- 
 ries, burst upon his view. 
 
 The boat was brought round to meet us ; 
 and on leaving this enchanting spot, Turk 
 Lake suddenly appeared, and by its unbroken 
 expanse of Avater created for a moment a feel- 
 ing of disappointment, but its peculiar beau- 
 ties soon became apparent. The forests 
 clothing Turk and Mangerton Mountains, 
 seemed multiplied in the bright mirror below, 
 over which they cast a peculiar shade. Mr. 
 H.'s general acquaintance with the occupiers 
 o
 
 62 CHAPTER V. 
 
 of the land always gained permission for us 
 to walk through their grounds, and saved us 
 many a circuitous route. On this occasion, 
 we were spared a considerable distance by 
 going through the pleasure grounds of Turk 
 Cottage. Through the dark shade of fir 
 groves, we reached the wide deep chasm into 
 which Turk Waterfall descends from a height 
 of sixty feet. It is supplied from the Devil's 
 Punch Bowl, which is an oval lake at the top 
 of Mangerton, supposed to have been the 
 crater of an extinct volcano. We were told, 
 that when the firs which then so finely clothed 
 the sides of the glen were planted, the men 
 employed in the work were obliged to be 
 lowered with ropes, carrying the young trees 
 with them. 
 
 We did not re-enter the boat, but walked 
 towards the grounds of Mucruss Abbey. We 
 had not proceeded far^ before a few large drops 
 of rain began to fall, which increasing rapidly, 
 we endeavoured to shelter ourselves under a 
 large holly -tree, close to the edge of the lake. 
 There, with the aid of a good-sized umbrella, 
 we kept ourselves tolerably dry for about 
 half an hour. The tops of the mountains
 
 CHAPTER V. 63 
 
 became quickly enveloped in the thickest 
 gloom ; volumes of cloud and mist were 
 borne majestically along their sides, catching 
 a transitory tint of gold and purple from an 
 occasional beam from the sun, which, lower 
 down, gleamed at intervals on the lake, now 
 violently agitated. I quite rejoiced at the 
 opportunity of witnessing the majesty of the 
 storm ; but when three-quarters of an hour 
 had elapsed, and our shelter was becoming 
 uncomfortably wet, we began to wish our- 
 selves in some place where we could watch 
 its progress more agreeably ; and, therefore, 
 resolved to walk through it to Mucruss House, 
 where we arrived just before the storm began 
 to descend in sheets of water. The kind 
 housekeeper wanted to light a fire for us. 
 What a tongue the worthy old woman had ! 
 " Sure, now, Maister H.," she continued, 
 "and you'll never be shaking of the trouble 
 to me, or mine, after all your family have 
 done for us. Sure, now. Sir, just let me light 
 a fire, and fetch a pair of shoes, and a cloak 
 for the lady." For above an hour we were 
 confined within the walls of Mucruss House. 
 At length the rain abated ; and, ^vithout wait- 
 G 2
 
 64 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ing for the ground to dry, we again ventured 
 forth, though we could not wander through 
 the woods ; but as we walked about the 
 more open parts of the demesne, the shrubs 
 shook off their moisture on us in showers of 
 crystal, the dark mountain mists were strug- 
 gling to maintain their pre-eminence over 
 tints of amethyst and ruby, and the birds 
 renewed their melody, whilst fluttering their 
 little wet wings in the faintly reviving 
 sun-beams. 
 
 The venerable abbey was quite invisible 
 till we reached the gateway. This most in- 
 teresting ruin, founded, I believe, in 1440, 
 by Donald, son of Thady McCarthy, and 
 situated on a peninsula about half a mile 
 broad, is surrounded on every side by scenery 
 of the most varied description. The rain had 
 made the stones very slippery, and deep pools 
 of water stood in some places ; still, though 
 wdth much diminution of our comfortable 
 enjoyment in the inspection, we endeavoured 
 not to leave a part unexplored. It is not on 
 a large scale, nor is it considered, I believe, 
 remarkable for architectural beauty ; but 
 there was a thrilling influence about it, far
 
 CHAPTER V. 65 
 
 beyond the attraction of mere external orna- 
 ment ; particularly in the cloisters, which are 
 rendered peculiarly solemn and imposing by 
 a venerable yew-tree, which rises from the 
 centre of the enclosure, and which is believed, 
 on good authority, to be coeval with the 
 abbey. It is preserved with religious vene- 
 ration, and produces a shade so awful as to 
 be really oppressive. In one of the apart- 
 ments, a hermit once took up his abode for 
 twenty years, after which long penance he 
 secretly withdrew. A second pilgrim followed, 
 who chose another chamber for his habita- 
 tion, but he disappeared at the end of two 
 years. The effect of this sepulchral gloom 
 is greatly increased by the custom of piling 
 up the skulls and bones in every corner 
 and dark niche ; not tossed about in careless 
 confusion, but grouped in fantastic forms. 
 The ground at the south side of the abbey 
 is still a favourite place of burial with the 
 Roman Catholics all round the adjacent 
 country ; and, I think I have read some- 
 where, that the festival of St. Francis is 
 celebrated here, when the poor people assem- 
 ble to receive the benedictions of their 
 G 3
 
 66 CHAPTER V. 
 
 priests, and to confess among the tombs and 
 ruins. 
 
 I had a strong desire to possess myself of 
 one of the skulls, as a memorial of this solemn 
 and interesting spot. Some words in pencil 
 had been written on the forehead of the one 
 we selected, but time and weather had ren- 
 dered them unintelligible* This skull, care- 
 fully packed at the bottom of my trunk, 
 accompanied us during our subsequent travels 
 in Scotland ; and after our return to England, 
 gave birth to the poetical description of that 
 remarkable ruin which will close this chapter. 
 
 The rain had re-commenced ; and, wet 
 through as we were, we considered it more 
 prudent to walk, than to re-enter the boat. 
 Nothing could be more wo-begone than our 
 appearance ! A gentleman's apparel comes 
 forth with greater advantage, after a contest 
 with the raging elements, than that of a lady 
 does ; for by the time a bonnet has been 
 crushed by creeping tlirough crumbling walls 
 and time-worn crevices, till, as one's nurse 
 used to say, it "looks nohow," and the fashion- 
 able fulness of the dress has been taught, by 
 the damp and rain, to cling more closely to
 
 CIIAI'TER V. 67 
 
 the figure, there is little left to call forth the 
 vanity of the hapless suiferer in any chance 
 encounter with the more favoured beaux and 
 belles of the adjacent town. Under these 
 circumstances, we were not sorry to reach 
 our hotel. 
 
 At rather an early hour, the following 
 morning, we set off for the celebrated " Gap 
 of Dunloe," in a car which our landlady pro- 
 vided for the purpose, and which was stored 
 with the requisite quantity of whiskey for 
 our attendants, and provisions for the day. 
 A young man with his bugle went with us, 
 his father. Lord Headley's piper, being then 
 too old to accompany parties on these excur- 
 sions. He entertained us all the way with 
 well-told anecdotes, and seemed remarkably 
 intelligent for his station in life. We stopt 
 on the bridge, where the nets were being 
 drawn for salmon ; and in a middle-aged 
 gentleman, who was leaning over the wall, 
 Mr. H. recognised a friend. On hearing that 
 we were strangers, he most politely proposed 
 returning in a few minutes with eighteen 
 couples of hounds, and his huntsman, in order 
 to awaken the surroundino; echoes. He soon
 
 68 CHAPTER V. 
 
 overtook us with his hounds, bringing with 
 him, also, two saddle-horses for the gentle- 
 men to ride. I believe a fox was soon found, 
 and though I did not understand or care 
 about the chase, the general effect was grand. 
 Nay, to an ear unaccustomed to such sounds, 
 the huntsman's bugle-horn, and the cry of the 
 hounds, reverberating amongst those wild and 
 rugged solitudes, was almost terrific. 
 
 The Gap of Danloe is a defile between the 
 mountain called Tomies and M'Gilly Cuddy's 
 Reeks. In one part, the road runs along the 
 margin of a black pool, quite unprotected ; 
 where, to avoid the destruction consequent on 
 a false step, those who were on horseback 
 dismounted. Beginning to feel tired of the 
 noise and uproar of the hunt, I desired the 
 driver to go on ; and so, escaping in a great 
 measure from the confusion of sounds, 
 reached a part where the mountains crowd 
 in closely together, so as only to allow space 
 for the road and the gloomy lake beside it. 
 Here we came to another halt ; the mountains 
 were enwreathed with mist ; the rocks gigan- 
 tic and bare ; the scene desolate and lonely. 
 In the midst of this savage solitude, the
 
 CHAPTER V. 69 
 
 driver directed my attention to an almost 
 unearthly- looking haggard creature, quite 
 blind, who, at the age of 109, was sitting by 
 the road side. Her withered hands rested 
 on a stick, to which a rosary was suspended. 
 She spoke very rapidly in the Irish language, 
 which was, of course, unintelligible to me. 
 For above a century, she had lived amid those 
 awful solitudes. It was painful to look at 
 her ; for though there is something sublime 
 in the wreck of nature, with its ruined castles, 
 rocks, and mountains, there is much that is 
 depressing in witnessing the wreck of the 
 human mind and its earthly tabernacle, to be 
 overcome only by reflecting on the animating 
 word of promise : " When He shall appear, 
 we shall be like Him." " When I awake up 
 in Thy likeness, I shall be satisfied with it." 
 " This mortal shall put on immortality." 
 
 After this the road became too confined to 
 admit of a carriage, a narrow footpath 
 through the crumbling fragments alone pre- 
 sented itself. The Hon. Mr. M. and his 
 pack of hounds, after having afforded us great 
 gratification by his very courteous and gentle- 
 manly conduct, had returned ; and we were
 
 70 CHAPTER V. 
 
 again left alone in the midst of the wild 
 chaos, I being mounted on a pony called 
 "the Knight of the Gap," which had been 
 provided for me. 
 
 We stopped for a few minutes at a solitary 
 cabin, from whence a woman issued with a 
 bottle of the real "mountain dew" and a jug 
 of goat's milk. Our guides mixed these in- 
 gredients in equal proportions. I thought 
 they would have made punch of it, as it is 
 said they do in the county of Clare ; that is, 
 " drink all the whiskey now, and the water 
 to-morrow, or after." 
 
 Having reached the highest point of eleva- 
 tion, from whence a glance behind discovered 
 mountains heaped together, with vast volumes 
 of mist flitting about their dark sides, we 
 began to descend. A cultivated country, the 
 vale of Corame Duff, spread out deep in the 
 valley below, its features appearing still 
 more beautiful from the sudden contrast. 
 The waters of a cascade flow through several 
 small lakes, through its whole length, till 
 they discharge themselves in the Upper Lake 
 of Killarney, at Cariguline. Amongst the 
 mountains which range themselves beyond.
 
 CHAPTER V. 71 
 
 are the M'Gilly Cuddy's Reeks, the broken 
 and irregular summits of which have a singular 
 appearance, caused by the sort of soft stone 
 of which they are composed, which is con- 
 tinually loosening and mouldering away, so 
 that their ridges are broken into a thousand 
 extraordinary forms, instead of presenting a 
 dull uniformity of outline. 
 
 About four miles brought us to Gheramine, 
 the seat of Lord Brandon. As the friends of 
 his neighbour, Mr. H., we were permitted to 
 go through his grounds, which saved us a 
 circuitous route, and also gave us a sight of 
 his pretty cottage and garden, the latter 
 made by artificial means on the rock above, 
 a quantity of earth having been carried up to 
 form it. In this sheltered spot, flowers were 
 blooming in rich luxuriance, and the fruit 
 trees were in a state of great forwardness. 
 In the centre of this garden. Lord B. has 
 built a round tower, in imitation of those 
 ancient and singular structures which are met 
 with throughout Ireland, and occasionally in 
 Scotland, and which so greatly puzzle the 
 brains of antiquarians. At the other side of 
 Lord B.'s plantations, we found our boat
 
 72 CHAPTER V. 
 
 waiting for us on the Upper Lake, in which 
 we embarked, with four gentlemen added to 
 our party, whom we had met in the Gap of 
 Dunloe, and who were recognised as old 
 friends bj one of our company. They had 
 changed their plan of returning by the way 
 they came, in order to accompany us ; so the 
 five naval officers and ourselves became fellow- 
 travellers for the rest of the day. 
 
 We had been charmed with the quiet 
 beauty of the Lower Lake ; we had been 
 struck with the peculiar features of Turk 
 Lake ; but when gliding over the surface of 
 the Upper, we felt the inadequacy of language 
 to express our delight. It is entirely en- 
 compassed by mountains. Through a narrow 
 and very shallow passage, the boat, now 
 heavily laden, was mth some difficulty forced, 
 and we landed on a green meadow where 
 there was no appearance of any human habi- 
 tation ; so deep within the glen stands 
 "Hyde's Cottage," belonging to the father of 
 our kind and agreeable companion. The 
 roar of waters soon informed us that we were 
 in the neighbourhood of a cascade, and we 
 had no sooner reached the cottage than the
 
 CHAPTER V. 73 
 
 Upper, Second, and Lower falls became 
 visible. The family were absent, and one 
 person only was left in charge of the house ; 
 but Irish hospitality is never discouraged ; 
 so, while some of the party were strolling 
 through the wood, and examining the small well 
 stocked garden, and the potatoes were boiling 
 in the kitchen, JVIr. H. was busily employed 
 in preparing everything in the best style 
 circumstances would admit of, for the enter- 
 tainment of his friends. There was a general 
 laugh when on passing the dining room win- 
 dow, he was discovered setting out decanters 
 of wine and whiskey, and E. polishing the 
 outer surface of some glasses with the tail of 
 his coat. 
 
 As soon as I could with propriety leave 
 the dinner table, I hastened, according to the 
 directions I had received, through the wood 
 to the waterfall ; and climbing over the rocks 
 reached a dry spot near the foot of the Upper 
 fall, and overlooking the Second. This would 
 have been impracticable had the stream been 
 swollen by winter rains. I could not ascend 
 higher, as there was nothing to hold by ; so I 
 sat down on this little area, and was guilty of 
 
 H
 
 74 CHAPTER V. 
 
 making a poetical sketch of the scene, which, 
 however, I will not inflict on my readers. 
 The loveliness of that secluded scene, the 
 richness and luxuriance of the wood, just 
 opening to admit a view of the cottage, above 
 the thatched roof of which the smoke was 
 gracefully curling, the gently swelling hills 
 beyond, bounded by the rugged majesty of 
 mountains, the water projected from the 
 different points with greater or less de- 
 grees of force, then brawling over the rocks 
 below, and meandering away through the 
 overhanging foliage : — Oh ! it was altogether 
 a scene of loveliness that haunts my memory, 
 and dwells still on the imagination. I knew 
 the sound of the bugle, which was to be the 
 promised signal, would be drowned in the 
 noise of the waters ; but as I could see, from 
 my lofty station, the cottage porch, and the 
 dining room window, I remained where I 
 was, till I saw the party coming forth in 
 search of me. We were soon re-seated in 
 the boat, and then the full play of genuine 
 Irish wit began to discover itself in many 
 brilliant sallies. Several airs, also, both 
 Enghsh and Irish, were very well sung. We
 
 CHAPTER V. 75 
 
 miglit have had fellow-travellers of more 
 congenial sentiments with our own, but cer- 
 tainly, never more gay, clever, or amusing 
 ones. 
 
 The islands in the Upper lake are very 
 numerous ; some bold and rocky, others richly 
 clothed with wood, and others like little 
 alluvial spots that had been collected by time, 
 round which, reeds had bound together the 
 atoms of vegetation swept down from the 
 mountains, and on which the winds had 
 scattered seeds of herbs and trees, until 
 they had grown into forms of loveliness and 
 beauty. Gandsey, our bugle-man, occasion- 
 ally landed on the rocks and produced the 
 most wonderful echoes. In these channels 
 between the islands, the assistance of the oar 
 is hardly necessary, the boat being gently 
 carried along by the stream. I think the 
 beauty of the winding passage leading from 
 the Upper lake cannot easily be surpassed. 
 The " Eagle's Nest" is in the hanging crag 
 of a perpendicular rock, twelve or thirteen 
 hundred feet high. It looks contemptible 
 among the mountains, when viewed from a 
 distance; but when steering directly under it, 
 H 2
 
 76 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 its base being clothed with wood, whilst 
 above the huge rocky fragments frowned 
 sternly, we felt it to be stupendous. Gandsey 
 stood on the opposite side, with his bugle, in 
 a spot called, the " Place of Audience," and 
 awakened the most extraordinary reverbera- 
 tions, that seemed as if multiplied by super- 
 natural means ; and after long intervals, 
 dying away as it were on the confines of 
 some far distant world. 
 
 " Hark ! hark ! the soft bugle sounds over the wood, 
 
 And thrills in the silence of even ; 
 Till faint, and more faint, in the deep solitude, 
 
 It dies on the portals of heav'n. 
 But echo springs up from her home in the rock, 
 
 And seizes the perishing strain. 
 And sends the gay challenge, with shadowy mock, 
 
 From mountain to mountain again." 
 
 The stillness of the hour (for it was then 
 nine o'clock), — the unclouded moon rising 
 above the opposite mountain, — the deep tran- 
 quillity of the water, as the boatmen rested 
 on their oars, and in which the rocks were 
 distinctly, but darkly reflected, combined 
 with the plaintive thrilling airs that the 
 bugle sent forth, — altogether formed a scene
 
 CHAPTER V. 77 
 
 that I think can never pass from my memory. 
 It was that lovely twilight, soft and silent as 
 an infant's slumbers, and the gay spirits of 
 all the party seemed to subside into a mood 
 of more pensive enjoyment. 
 
 " For, oh ! when heav'n and earth grow dumb with 
 bliss, 
 In homage to an hour divine as this, 
 Thoughts of immortal beauty spring to birth. 
 And waft the soul beyond the dreams of earth." 
 
 We did not see the eagle in his inac- 
 cessible nest ; but my thoughts were busily 
 occupied with recollections of that beautiful 
 description of God's dealings with his ancient 
 people contained in Deuteronomy xxxii. 11, 
 12. I have scarcely ever referred to that 
 sublime passage of Scripture since, without 
 unconsciously connecting it in imagination 
 with the "Eagle's Rock" at Killarney. 
 
 Having remained stationed there a con- 
 siderable time, we took such an abrupt turn 
 in the river that, on looking back, we could 
 see the rock, from its summit to its base, in 
 great perfection, and its softened image also 
 i-eflected in the watery mirror below. 
 H 3
 
 78 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The navigation of these narrow passages 
 is difficult. The boatmen were, at times, 
 obliged to put out all their strength to over- 
 come the violence of the current; but our 
 pilot, Mr. H., was well acquainted with every 
 rock and the depth of everj channel. Some 
 indistinct ideas of danger had, however, 
 connected themselves in tnj imagination with 
 the thought of " shooting the arch" under 
 old Weir-bridge ; for we had heard of acci- 
 dents occurring from the equilibrium of the 
 boat being destroyed, &c. I secretly felt 
 glad to hear, therefore, when we reached the 
 spot, that there was not water enough for the 
 boat to " shoot through," heavily laden as it 
 was. We were therefore set on shore, and, 
 groping our way through a dark wooded 
 pathway, we embarked again, and passing 
 once more over Turk and the lower lakes, at 
 length safely landed at Ross Castle. The 
 lower lake looked calmly beautiful, as it did the 
 day before. Many a bright star was reflected 
 in its dark bosom, sheets of summer lightning 
 at intervals glanced rapidly across the land- 
 scape, and the moon that lighted us home to
 
 CHAPTER V. 79 
 
 the ^otel gave an entirely new character to 
 the scene. 
 
 " How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this lake I 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Look how the floor of heaven 
 Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold ; 
 There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 
 But in his motion like an angel sings, 
 Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubim : 
 Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
 But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
 Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The effect of the bugle while on the water 
 was again tried in awakening the echoes of 
 Ross Castle, and we heard the repetitions 
 distinctly from the Castle, the ruined church 
 of Aghadoe, and Mangerton, with numerous 
 reverberations afterwards. It was about 
 eleven when we reached the hotel. 
 
 Whilst returning in the boatj the strongest 
 persuasions were used to induce us to alter 
 our plans and remain another day. I being 
 the only lady, was instituted as judge in the 
 debate. Each of the party then pleaded the 
 merits of the cause ;- — our friends, the comic 
 and penseroso warblers, with incomparable
 
 80 CHAPTER V. 
 
 wit and cleverness ; — but my Lady Judge 
 resisted their eloquence, resisted the beguil- 
 ing attractions of the scenery, nay more, 
 resisted the urgent solicitations of her own 
 inclinations. We left Killarney the following 
 morning. 
 
 I
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE RETURN FROM THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY 
 TO DUBLIN. 
 
 " Once more 'mong the verdure and dew of thy mountains, 
 The Shamrock shall ope its wet eye to the sun ; 
 
 While fondly the Muse shall recline by thy fountains, 
 And warble her strains to the rills as they run, 
 
 " And Plenty shall smile on thy beautiful valleys, 
 And Peace shall return the long-wandering dove; 
 
 And Religion shall breathe o'er mud cottage and palace, 
 And spread out her wings o'er an Eden of love.'' 
 
 Our plan was to return to Dublin by Cork. 
 The road appeared uninteresting, but almost 
 any high road would look monotonous after 
 the fairy scenes we had so recently left. 
 The way is, however, varied by many rem- 
 nants of ancient strength, such as the ruins 
 of feudal castles and monasteries. Within 
 four or five miles of Cork stands the Castle 
 of Ballincally, on a rocky eminence in the
 
 82 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 middle of a plain, without any other hill or 
 mound near it. Not far from this are the 
 Castle and Abbey of Kilcrea. The approach 
 to it used to be quite appalling, on account 
 of the numerous heaps of skulls and bones, 
 which have, however, been since deposited 
 in their mother earth. The river Bride 
 flows gently through the gloomy valley of 
 death. There is said to be an extraordinary 
 cave near the village of Ovens, which, how- 
 ever, we did not visit ; and in a castle at 
 Macroom, another village through which we 
 passed. Admiral Sir William Penn was born. 
 We reached Cork about five in the even- 
 ing, and took up our quarters at an hotel 
 abounding with English comforts. We made 
 the best use of daylight by immediately 
 walking out to examine the town and envi- 
 rons. In the harbour a steam-packet was 
 taking in passengers. " Where is that packet 
 going?" "To Cove, Sir." "What is the 
 distance?" "About nine miles. Sir: you 
 may go there in an hour, and return by land, 
 in a car." So without any delay, we stepped 
 on board, glad of the opportunity of going 
 down this celebrated river, of which we had
 
 CHAPTER VI. 83 
 
 heard so much. It is said to be worth taking 
 a journey from Dublin to see the splendid 
 Cove of Cork ; for in consequence of the 
 sinuous winding of the estuary of the Lee, 
 the most rapid changes of scenery are pre- 
 sented to view, — the shores on both sides 
 being studded the whole way with castles, 
 villas, and gentlemen's seats, and surrounded 
 with beautiful woods and plantations, dipping 
 their luxuriant foliage in the water. Cove, 
 built on the steep side of a hill, bursts finely 
 and suddenly on the view. We landed, 
 walked through the town, enjoyed the pros- 
 pect, and then returned to Cork by land. 
 The whole expense of this little excursion 
 for both of us, including the steam-packet, 
 the ferry-boat, and the car, was 4*. 7c?. ! 
 We did not, however, enjoy it as enthu- 
 siastically as we ought to have done : the 
 truth was, we were as yet too deeply 
 enamoured with the lonely echoes, silent 
 lakes, and romantic rocks of Killarney, to 
 relish a first return to populous scenes of 
 busy every-day life ; but the refreshing 
 breezes were exhilarating after our day's 
 travelling. The road by which we left Cork
 
 84 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 the succeeding day followed the course of the 
 river for some distance, and then diverged 
 through beautifully wooded scenery for about 
 the distance of six miles ; but as we travelled 
 the whole night, in order to enjoy our Sab- 
 bath services in Dublin, I can give little 
 account of the road, which appeared to 
 become uninteresting after leaving the banks 
 of the narrow and winding Suir on which 
 Clonmel is situated. We were again in 
 Dublin by six o'clock on Sunday morning, 
 after this long and wearisome journey. 
 
 LINES ON A SKULL, 
 
 BROUGHT FROM MUCRUSS ABBEY, KILLARNEY. 
 
 Start not, ye timid ! nor, ye idly gay, 
 
 Turn -with displeasure from this scene away : 
 
 Nor lightly jest upon a serious theme, 
 
 The last frail emblem of life's airy dream. 
 
 To all, except the heartless, -will I try 
 
 To make this skull less hateful to the eye. 
 
 The wintry blast blows fitfully and deep. 
 
 The ev'ning shades are gath'ring o'er the steep ; 
 
 We'll heed them not, but round the cheerful blaze, 
 
 We'll speak of other scenes and other days.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 85 
 
 First, the romantic site I must relate 
 Of Mucruss Abbey, and its ancient date. 
 Upon Killarney's solitary shore, 
 Where the huge rocks their awful torrents pour. 
 And Turk and Mangerton, with gloomy brow, 
 Brood o'er the central lake serene below, — 
 Conceal'd 'mid forest shades of deep'ning hue, 
 A ruin'd pile steals darkly on the view ; 
 Its shadowy outlines, dim and undefin'd, 
 Impart a pensive sadness to the mind : 
 Oh, well can I retrace the thrilling hour 
 When first we felt its soul-subduing pow'r. 
 The hand of time has with a lenient sway 
 Forborne the features of a stern decay ; 
 If ruin'd more, less striking to the eye 
 Would be its picturesque sublimity. 
 The choir's deep solitude, its fearful gloom. 
 Speak of the awful secrets of the tomb, 
 [n ev'ry niche, amid th' unearthly shade, 
 Are skulls and bones fantastically laid ; 
 Thus mortals, born to labour and to die, 
 Sport with the emblems of mortality ! 
 High from the centre of the cloistral ground 
 A yew majestic spreads its branches round : 
 AVoe to the hand that with incision rude 
 Should dare upon its sacred bark intrude ! 
 The struggling light the lonely tombs reveal, 
 Which yet those gloomy branches would conceal, 
 I
 
 86 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 No words engraven there, the tales to tell 
 
 On which imagination loves to dwell. 
 
 We stood upon the mould'ring battlement, 
 
 The low'ring sky a deeper influence lent, 
 
 And eloquently spoke each crumbling stone 
 
 Of countless generations past and gone. 
 
 From thence we took this skull, — nay, do not 
 
 smile, — 
 And safely brought it from th' Emerald Isle : 
 O'er mountain ranges of stupendous size, 
 By sea, by land, 'neath Caledonian skies. 
 My treasure came, still watch'd with careful eye, 
 Lest superstition should our theft espy. 
 
 Some centuries have pass'd since first this head 
 
 Was laid within its dark and silent bed. 
 
 To whom did it belong ? — the thought may flow. 
 
 Perhaps the spirit hovers here below ; 
 
 Perhaps, commissioned by heav'n's glorious King, 
 
 To earth sweet messages of peace may bring : 
 
 A ransom'd soul, on airy pinions borne, 
 
 To cheer some heart with grief and anguish torn. 
 
 Perhaps to one of us it wings its flight. 
 
 To bring some clearer ray of heav'nly light : 
 
 Still love those spirits, free and unconfin'd. 
 
 To minister to those they leave behind. 
 
 Traditionary legends tell not now 
 
 Why 'neath the cowl was hid this throbbing brow :
 
 CHAPTER VI. 87 
 
 In health, in wealth, in manhood's early prime, 
 Circled by all that gives a charm to time. 
 Eternity alone possess'd his mind, 
 He left the world, the footsteps of mankind. 
 Mistaken piety ! whose sombre hue 
 Rejects the blessings ofFer'd to its view ; 
 Forgets that active duties best prepare 
 The soul for loftier piety and prayer : 
 Forgetful of each Christian sympathy, 
 That smiles in sadness, cheers in misery ; 
 Forgetful that the life we call our own, 
 " Derives its value from its use alone." * 
 But those were darker times, — then list not now 
 To Eugene's sorrows with a scornful brow. 
 Who, 'midst each agony of wav'ring thought, 
 Was first from folly to his Maker brought. 
 No light of glorious liberty was shown 
 To point salvation to the Cross alone. 
 'Twas much in ardent youth's aspiring day 
 To cast ambition, wealth, and pow'r away ; 
 Still more to rend affection's strongest tie. 
 Forego each calm domestic sympathy ; — 
 No deeper struggle can the bosom prove, 
 Than duty struggling with terrestrial love ; 
 Strength for such conflict comes but from above. 
 He knew not that such kindred ties are giv'n 
 To speed the Christian on his road to heav'n : 
 * Dr. Johnson. 
 
 I 2
 
 88 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The gloomy cloister and monastic dress 
 Clos'd o'er the tumults of the soul's distress ; 
 Then all was still, — the outward strife was o'er, 
 His pallid cheek a placid sadness wore, 
 'Till life decayed ; — youth's light and joyous tread 
 Were all too thoughtless by that dying bed : 
 For those alone who grief and anguish know 
 Can mitigate a suffring brother's woe. 
 And could not then a life thus wholly giv'n 
 To God on earth, avert the wrath of heav'n ? 
 Oh no ! — yet peace was there : a ray of light 
 Perhaps was granted to his mental sight, 
 Which pointing to the cross, Avith pow'r to save, 
 Dispers'd the gloom that hover d o'er the grave. 
 Now view this proof (ere fades the passing hour) 
 Of God's creating and sustaining pow'r ! 
 'Tis but the cold and senseless casket now, 
 But mark the structure of this polish'd brow ! 
 The temples throb no more, but still an air 
 Of thought and intellect seems hov'ring there ; 
 Smooth as Italian marble, and as cold, 
 Tho' once 'twas stamp'd in passion's deepest mould : 
 From thence descending would th' averted eye 
 Avoid that fearful look of vacancy ! 
 Where is the glance of pride ? the force of mind ? 
 The eye that beam'd with tenderness refin'd ? 
 Where is the light of youth, — of beauty's bloom ? 
 Yet turn not shudd'ring from the silent tomb.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 89 
 
 Since He, who reigns 'mid heav'n's eternal day, 
 Once veil'd His glories in our mortal clay ; 
 He trod before life's dark and toilsome road, 
 He sanctified that last and drear abode. 
 Still may it quell our pride, — this dust alone 
 Is all created man may call his own. 
 How wondrous then, that God should deign to give 
 The vital spark, and bid these bodies live ! 
 To breathe, — to think, — with earthly toils to blend 
 Hopes that can never die, — that know no end. 
 This skull, extracted from the earthy sod, 
 Once lived, — we trust, devotedly to God. 
 Yet more, — whilst wond'ring at created man, 
 Preserv'd by God thro' life's extended span. 
 Still may our chasten'd thoughts ascend above 
 To view the wonders of redeeming love. 
 Tho' mingled with the dust of ev'ry clime, 
 These human forms may be defac'd by time. 
 No particle is lost : the wind and wave 
 May idly scatter many an unknown grave; 
 But He who first the vital pow'r could give, 
 Will bid those dry and mould'ring relics live. 
 Not lost each nobler thought, to heav'n allied, 
 But perfected, exalted, purified : 
 Cleans'd by His blood from all polluting stain, 
 A Saviour's voice shall rend the veil in twain ; 
 There learn, what here by faith we darkly trace, 
 And see that heav'nly vision face to face. 
 T 3
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 '* When foemen watch their tents by night, 
 And mists hang wide o'er moor and fell, 
 
 Spirit of counsel and of might. 
 
 Their pastoral warfare guide thou well." 
 
 Christian Year. 
 
 During our travels through the more re- 
 mote districts of Ireland, we continually 
 heard the different classes of people speak 
 with gratitude of the untiring zeal and be- 
 nevolence of their pastors. Difficult as the 
 position of the Protestant clergy has always 
 been in that distracted land, it is now greatly 
 increased amidst the present fiery trial of 
 famine and disease ; their houses being daily 
 surrounded by dying multitudes, who look 
 up to them as their natural and tried bene- 
 factors. Surely, then, it becomes a duty 
 incumbent upon all, to sympathize in their 
 sorrows, and seek to lighten the heavy load 
 of anxiety under which they labour. Hun- 
 dreds are perishing around them by sickness,
 
 CHAPTER \11. 91 
 
 and the want of the necessaries of life, and 
 believing, as they do, that "there is none 
 other name under heaven by which they can 
 be saved, but only the name of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ," what a painful augmentation of their 
 trials must it be, to see hundreds perishing 
 in ignorance of the way of salvation, and of 
 the infinite value of that divine Saviour who 
 is "the way, the truth, and the life ! " 
 
 During our stay in Ireland, all our Sundays 
 were spent in Dublin ; with the exception 
 of one at Glin, Avhere the Protestant congre- 
 gation was composed of the knight, his family, 
 his sons' tutor, the friends staying at the 
 castle, and his household, with a very small 
 number of poor people. I have thought that 
 a few brief recollections of one or two of the 
 preachers whom we heard in Dublin, may 
 not be uninteresting to the reader ; I shall, 
 therefore, give a slight sketch of one, as the 
 most descriptive amongst the many we heard, 
 of that fervour and eloquence for which the 
 Irish clergy are so celebrated. 
 
 It was on Sunday, the 9th of May, that in 
 our way to the church, the service of which 
 we proposed attending, we looked in at St.
 
 92 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 Thomas's, merely to take a view of the in- 
 terior of the building. The sexton, however, 
 entreated us to enter ; and another person, 
 observing that we were strangers, added his 
 entreaties, giving us to understand that we 
 should hear "a splendid preacher." The 
 church was crowded to excess, so that it was 
 with some difficulty that I was pioneered up 
 the centre aisle. In a large square pew I 
 found an inch or two of sitting room ; but F. 
 and E. were obliged to stand in the aisle, 
 which was filled from one end to the other 
 with charity children, who interested me 
 much by the eagerness they displayed to put 
 half-pennies, or farthings, into the plates as 
 they were carried by ; for the sermon was a 
 charity one, in behalf of the schools. In a 
 less sacred place, we could have smiled at the 
 intense anxiety of a gentleman standing near 
 E., in the aisle ; who, after the preacher had 
 gone on for three-quarters of on hour without 
 any reference to the cause for which he was 
 to plead, exclaimed in a loud agitated whisper, 
 " God bless me ! the gentleman has forgotten 
 altogether the charity which he is to advo- 
 cate ; he ought to be reminded of it,"
 
 CHAPTER VII. 93 
 
 The preacher was the Rev. N s A g, 
 
 at that time curate of Monastereven. He 
 had a strong Hibernian accent, and his voice 
 was sufficiently powerful to have been heard 
 without the walls, accompanied with such 
 incessant and forcible action that the very 
 reading desk beneath the pulpit seemed to 
 vibrate. He preached without notes, or book 
 of any kind ; and, certainly, such extraor- 
 dinary pulpit eloquence of its kind I had 
 never heard, or am very likely to hear again. 
 His doctrine was strong and decided — his 
 utterance rapid — his expressions vehement 
 and forcible — ^his illustrations numerous and 
 original, and calculated to place every portion 
 of the subject in the clearest point of view. 
 In addition to this, his flights of imagination 
 were crowded so quickly one upon another, 
 that the idea of carrying home in my memory 
 anything like a distinct outline of the sermon 
 was given up by me, long before we were 
 half through it. He raised our first parent 
 Adam from his slumbers in the grave, and 
 hurried him through the varied scenes of life, 
 that he might mark the fatal and destructive 
 effects of sin — its deadly nature — and the
 
 94 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ruinous force of evil example. " Many people 
 talked of having done no harm to others ; 
 that by neglecting religion they only injured 
 themselves, &c. This was as if a man with 
 a contagious fever made his escape from a 
 hospital, and rushed into the midst of an 
 assembled multitude. The cold air might be 
 injurious to himself, but what would be the 
 effect on others ? " Here he described the 
 rapid spreading of contagion. Also, the ruin 
 and destruction, desolating whole streets or 
 towns, by means of the man whose house 
 was on fire, but who affirmed, that no one 
 would be injured by the flames but himself 
 in the loss of his house and furniture. All 
 this was described in language that I could 
 not attempt to imitate, for the strongest would 
 seem weak. He applied this part of the sub- 
 ject, first to the minister of the gospel, repre- 
 senting him as looking into the abodes of hell 
 and witnessing the misery of souls that had 
 been entrusted to his care, and hearing their 
 bitter reproaches, because he had kept from 
 them that gospel which had been entrusted 
 to him, &c. 
 
 In the same manner, he represented the
 
 CHAPTER Vll. 95 
 
 agony of the parent under similar circum- 
 stances, beholding those children whom he had 
 failed to bring up in the nurture and admoni- 
 tion of the Lord, &c. And so on with regard 
 to the other connexions of life, public and 
 private. Could any one think little then of 
 the force of example on society at large ? 
 No ! be assured that every man is as a sign 
 post to heaven, or to hell ! 
 
 But I have not yet mentioned his text : 
 Proverbs xx. 6. " Most men will proclaim 
 every one his own goodness : but a faithful 
 man, who shall find?" He dwelt, first, 
 strongly on the general depravity and cor- 
 ruption of human nature, describing several 
 characters, such as the open profligate, the 
 self-righteous Pharisee, the mere professor 
 of religion. There was much in this world 
 that looked amiable and interesting. There 
 was the mother opening all the sensibilities 
 of her nature over the children of her love. 
 There was the father, actuated by the same 
 feelings, making sacrifices of ease, comfort, 
 and self-indulgence for their sakes. There 
 was the soldier in the field of battle, braving 
 death and danger in defence of his king and
 
 96 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 country. There was the patriot, nobly bend- 
 ing all the energies of his mind for the welfare 
 of his native land. Yet, all this might be 
 done without any reference to the glory of 
 God — without any principle of constraining 
 love to Christ, without which, all our works 
 are worthless in the sight of God. Here he 
 brought down the angels from heaven, and 
 accompanied them in an imaginary tour 
 through our world. "Where would they love 
 to rest ? Not in the field of battle, where, 
 
 &c Not in the senate-house, where, 
 
 &c but," and then he commenced vivid 
 
 descriptions of the scenes where they would 
 fold their heavenly wings. 
 
 Under the second head of his discourse, " A 
 faithful man who can find ?" he seemed 
 scarcely to leave a heart unsearched. Had 
 they been faithful to time, to their religious 
 vows, to their convictions ? in the possession 
 of rank, talents, and money ? The dangers 
 of avarice ! The road to hell ivas paved ivith 
 money ! Had they been faithful to their con- 
 sciences in rallying themselves, and those 
 with whom they were connected around the 
 banner of the cross ? Would that all who
 
 CHAPTER VTI. 97 
 
 were not thus faithful would read and pray 
 over the promises and threatenings of the 
 Gospel now, lest they read their condemna- 
 tion hereafter by the light of a blazing and 
 expiring world ! 
 
 In these unconnected recollections, I have 
 not half exhausted the matter of his sermon. 
 Unconnected they necessarily are, as in such 
 a crowded position I could not have taken 
 notes, had I been in the habit of doing so ; 
 and, therefore, I could only draw this sketch 
 from memory, after I had retired to my own 
 room at night. I perceive I have now left 
 out one striking part, where he dwelt on the 
 exceeding sinfulness of sin as discovered more 
 particularly in the crucifixion of Christ. It 
 is not in the expulsion of Adam from Para- 
 dise ; it is not in the overwhelming waters of 
 the deluge, &c., &c., — that we see fully what 
 sin is. No. It is on Mount Calvary, at the 
 foot of the cross, that we learn its dreadful 
 character in the sight of God. About five 
 minutes, at the conclusion of this powerful 
 sermon, were devoted to the charity for which 
 he was to plead. But before that, he brought 
 his hearers to a pretty close examination as 
 
 K
 
 98 CHAPTER ^^I, 
 
 to the services of the day in which they had 
 been engaged ; the correspondence of their 
 feelings with the expressions of their lips ; 
 and still more, the correspondence of their 
 lives. 
 
 My brother was very anxious that we 
 should hear another very celebrated preacher, 
 the Rev. ]Mr. P., for which purpose he took 
 us, the evening of the same day, to a large 
 chapel in Plunkett-street ; for though I be- 
 lieve Mr. P. maintained the doctrines of the 
 Church of England, and generally sided with 
 it, he entertained scruples respecting some of 
 her services, and in consequence would not 
 accept of preferment in our Church, or re- 
 tain a living which was in his own gift ; a 
 circumstance to be much regretted, as he was 
 a man of deep piety and talent. On arriving 
 at the chapel, I obtained a seat with great 
 difficulty ; E. & F. standing near me, or sit- 
 ting on the floor. Mr. P.'s deep-toned devo- 
 tional and harmonious voice was first heard 
 in the repetition of a hymn, which was after- 
 wards sung by the whole united congregation. 
 Then followed a very beautiful extempore 
 prayer, fervent, yet sober, bearing upon its
 
 CHAPTER VII. 99 
 
 every expression, the tone of our own liturgy. 
 He then read the chapter in the Bible, from 
 which his text was taken ; " He that believ- 
 ethis justified from all things, from which he 
 could not be justified by the law of Moses." 
 
 The recollections which I afterwards noted 
 down of this sermon, are not sufficiently con- 
 nected and clear to be introduced here. His 
 train of argument, and doctrinal views, were 
 too evangelical and deep to be done justice to 
 by a few detached sentences and cursory re- 
 marks. What I felt to be wanting in his 
 sermon was personal and practical applica- 
 tion. 
 
 Nothing could be greater than the contrast 
 between the two extempore preachers whom 
 we heard on that day. Mr. A.'s language, 
 attitudes, and utterance, all rapid, forcible, and 
 energetic. He dealt much in the thunders 
 and lightnings of heaven's omnipotence ; car- 
 rying his hearers in imagination through all 
 parts of the universe, amid the ruin of dis- 
 solving worlds ; and bringing forward angels, 
 men, and devils, as actors in the mighty 
 scene. In Mr. P., on the contrary, there 
 was the deepest solemnity of voice and man- 
 K 2
 
 100 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ner, both unaffected and elegant ; every word 
 being selected with taste and judgment ; and 
 the connexion closely kept up, with no repe- 
 tition, or wandering from the main subject of 
 the discourse. 
 
 On the following Sunday, we heard Dr. S., 
 in the morning, at the College Chapel. His 
 sermon from Matt, xxvii. 42, contained 
 enough of theological argument on the evi- 
 dence of Christ's divinity to suit an Univer- 
 sity congregation. He concluded with an 
 earnest and affectionate exhortation to the 
 younger members to examine the Bible for 
 themselves ; and above all, to enter on the 
 study of it in the spirit of prayer for the 
 teaching of the Holy Spirit ; and to be zealous 
 and conscientious in the performance of every 
 duty, since Jesus Christ had said, " Whoso- 
 ever shall do my will, shall know the doc- 
 trine, whether it be of God." 
 
 We attended St. Mary's Church, in the 
 afternoon, to hear Mr. W., another very 
 popular preacher. He was however unable 
 to officiate that day on account of illness ; but 
 Mr. B. delivered a delightful sermon on 
 Moses making the bitter waters sweet. His
 
 CHAPTER VII. 101 
 
 voice and delivery were not good ; but his 
 whole heart seemed in the subject ; and in 
 the " land of saints," and images, it was re- 
 freshing to hear only of Him, who is " exalted 
 to give repentance, and remission of sins." 
 
 On another occasion we visited the old 
 cathedral of St. Patrick. The anthem was 
 exquisitely sung ; and we were not sorry to 
 fall in there with another specimen of faithful 
 preaching from a Mr. S. He took his text 
 from the second Psalm, " Blessed are all they 
 that put their trust in him." 1st. The nature 
 of the believer's trust in God ; 2d. the bles- 
 sedness of those who rightly experience it. 
 His weak, but deeply interesting voice, could 
 scarcely have been heard far off, but we were 
 well repaid for the exertion of very close 
 attention. 
 
 I believe we visited every Church in Dub- 
 lin ; but these are the only notices of sermons 
 that I find recorded in my journal. May 
 Erin's pastors still be strengthened to follow 
 closely in the footsteps of their Divine Mas- 
 ter ; their faithfulness, and devotedness, bear- 
 ing daily evidence to their heavenly mission. 
 Undeterred by reproach and opposition, may 
 K 3
 
 102 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 they be strengthened to know nothing in the 
 course of their ministry but Jesus Christ, and 
 him crucified ; and thus with burning zeal, 
 and unwearied love for immortal souls, do the 
 work of evangelists. May liberal hearts, and 
 willing hands, still be stretched forth from 
 Great Britain to aid them in their self-deny- 
 ing course ; so that being supplied with more 
 abundant means, they may be enabled to dis- 
 pense nourishment for the immortal soul, hand 
 in hand, with food for the perishing body ; 
 thus imitating the " Great Shepherd of the 
 Sheep," of whose tender solicitude for His 
 purchased people, the Bible prophetically 
 speaks ; " I will feed the flock of slaughter, 
 even you, O poor of the flock." — (Zech. 
 xi. 7.) 
 
 4
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 VISIT TO THE giants' CAUSEWAY. 
 
 " And say unto those that have left thee forsaken — 
 Return, oh return to your lone mother's arms! 
 
 Other lands in their sons can a fondness awaken ; 
 Shall Erin alone for her race have no charms ? 
 
 " Oh! blush as ye wonder, that it ere should be taunted, 
 That strangers have felt what mine own could not feel ; 
 
 That when Britons stood forth in my trial undaunted, 
 My children shrunk back unconcern'd in my weal." 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
 As our limited time in Ireland obliged us to 
 make our long journeys to the particular 
 localities that we wished to visit, uninterrupt- 
 edly, and with moderate expedition, and as I 
 am anxious, in this little volume, to mention 
 with brevity, all those circumstances and de- 
 tails which would fail in interest to the 
 general reader, I will merely mention that 
 we again left Dublin at five o'clock on the
 
 104 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 morning of the 3d of June. Even at tliat 
 early hour, kind acquaintances, whom we had 
 little expected to see, had taken the trouble 
 to rise in order to see us off, and bid us fare- 
 well Avith true Irish heartiness ; and on our 
 arrival at Drogheda, we found a friend of my 
 brother's w^aiting at the inn door to greet us 
 in compliance Avith his wishes ; and to give 
 us a few hints respecting our further travels 
 in Scotland. Drogheda possesses a degree of 
 historical interest not surpassed, and scarcely 
 equalled by any in the kingdom ; blended as 
 it is with the ancient, ecclesiastical, and 
 military history of Ireland. Here the sove- 
 reignty of the kingdom was surrendered to 
 king Richard II. by four Irish kings doing 
 homage and fealty in the church of St. Mary 
 Magdalene, in the year 1395. "These kings," 
 says Sir James Ware, in his Antiquities of 
 Ireland, " were after the ceremony committed 
 to the care of Henry Carlile, an Englishman, 
 who, understanding the Irish language, was 
 commanded to instruct them in the English 
 customs, particularly in that of receiving 
 the order of knighthood, who so wrought on 
 them, that hp prevailed on them to accept it,
 
 CHAPTER vni. 105 
 
 although they alleged that they had received 
 it from their fathers at the age of seven 
 years." 
 
 Drogheda was also the residence of all the 
 Archbishops of Armagh, from the days of 
 St Patrick till the close of the eighteenth 
 century. Here many of the English Viceroys 
 kept their courts, and held parliaments ; and 
 here was passed the famous law which made 
 the Irish Parliament entirely dependent on 
 that of England. 
 
 Pursuing our journey, we passed through 
 Bellingham, Dundalk, a sea-port on a bay of 
 the same name, and Newry, where we dined. 
 It is, I believe, the largest town in the county 
 of Down, and has an extensive linen manu- 
 factory. There is also one at Lisburn, a very 
 neat and prettily situated town, where we 
 arrived after passing through Banbridge, Dro- 
 more, the see of a bishop, and Hillsborough, 
 noted only for a manufacture of muslins. 
 
 At that time, we were much struck with 
 the contrast between the north and south of 
 Ireland. In the former, the country appeared 
 to be well cultivated, even to the tops of the 
 hills, though the soil itself is much less capable
 
 106 CHAPTER yill. 
 
 of cultivation ; while, in the south, the pro- 
 ductions of the earth seemed to luxuriate 
 spontaneously. Towards the north, we saw 
 little of that richly wooded scenery ; but the 
 rather dreary succession of hill and dale was 
 well covered with crops of grain, and grass. 
 Alas ! how different probably at this moment 
 is the aspect of what then appeared compara- 
 tively thriving and prosperous ! "The shout- 
 ing for thy summer fruits, and for thy harvest, 
 is fallen ; and gladness is taken away, and joy 
 out of the plentiful field." (Isaiah xvi. 9, 10.) 
 We observed, also, a great difference in the 
 inhabitants of the north of Ireland. Though 
 the lower classes were, as in other parts, 
 without shoes and stockings, yet, otherwise, 
 they were respectably dressed. Here, again, 
 the difference between the past and present 
 presents itself, not unaccompanied by a prayer 
 that the "blessing of those who are ready to 
 perish" may be peimitted to return a hundred, 
 fold on the heads of those who are using the 
 most strenuous exertions to obtain clothing 
 as well as food to supply the fearful destitu- 
 tion now prevailing through the length and 
 breadth of the land. The difference, we were
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 107 
 
 told, arose in a great measure from the estab- 
 lishment of manufactories, chiefly of linen, in 
 the north ; by which employment was found 
 for so many, and a stimulus given to exertion. 
 I forgot to mention, that soon after leaving 
 Dundalk, we travelled through a wild and 
 beautiful ravine, in which is situated Ravens- 
 dale, the seat of Lord Charlemont. The wind 
 blew almost a hurricane, and wailed dismally 
 through this mountain pass, so as apparently 
 at times to impede the progress of the horses. 
 We passed the night at Belfast, and walked a 
 little about it the following morning. The 
 Linen Hall is in the centre of Donegal-square ; 
 and a little beyond it we saw an Academical 
 Institution for educating Presbyterian min- 
 isters ; opposite to which was a very hand- 
 some Presbyterian chapel, at that time recently 
 built. The Belfast Museum was the first 
 ever erected in Ireland by voluntary sub- 
 scriptions. On the occasion of laying the 
 first stone of this edifice, a bottle was deposited 
 in it, containing, besides the usual coins, and 
 an impression of the corporation seal, the 
 following four verses from Job xii. written in 
 fifteen different languages.
 
 108" CHAPTER vni. 
 
 " Ask now the beasts, and they shall teach 
 thee ; and the fowls of the air, and they shall 
 teach thee : 
 
 " Or speak to the earth, and it shall teach 
 thee : and the fishes of the sea shall declare 
 unto thee. 
 
 " Who knoweth not in all these that the 
 hand of the Lord hath wrought this 7 
 
 " In whose hand is the soul of every living 
 thing, and the breath of all mankind.''^ 
 
 I have copied these verses, because to my 
 own mind they are at the present season 
 striking and admonitory. Buried beneath the 
 soil of that afflicted country, they seem to bid 
 us turn from second causes, to him who hath 
 appointed these severe national judgments, 
 and to whose merciful hand we must alone 
 look for the removal of them. 
 
 We left Belfast at one o'clock, the road 
 continuing for a little distance very heavily 
 along the shingly beach of the Lough of 
 Belfast. Half a mile from the town of An- 
 trim, the capital of the county, stands one of 
 the round tower pillars, ninety -five feet in 
 height, and which is divided into three sto- 
 ries. It stands at the extremity of Lough
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 109 
 
 Neagh ; the waters of which we saw from a 
 high part of the road most violently agitated ; 
 for the wind still continued boisterous. The 
 waves were breaking upon the shore with all 
 the fury of a tempestuous sea. After passing 
 through Randalstown, Ballyraena, and Bally- 
 money, we arrived at Coleraine, and took up 
 our abode for the night at Miss Henry's 
 hotel. 
 
 At six, the following morning, we set off 
 to Bushmills, wishing to have a long day 
 before us. The grandeur and boldness of the 
 scenery along the Antrim coast, as it occa- 
 sionally bursts on the view, is very striking. 
 It was particularly so, on the day when we 
 passed, for the sea was rolling mountains 
 high, and foaming against the precipitous 
 cliffs, bold promontories, and magnificent 
 headlands. There were also beautiful bays, 
 and sheltei-ed harbours ; whilst the country on 
 the other side was diversified with cultivated 
 spots and barren mountains, mud cabins and 
 snug cottages, but certainly nothing in this 
 excursion, was so much to my taste, or made 
 such a lasting impression on my memory as 
 the ruined castle of Dunluce. We left the 
 
 L
 
 110 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 carriage, and crossed a heathy field or two in 
 order to reach it. There is little of archi- 
 tectural beauty in these ruins ; but nothing- 
 can be more striking than the situation which 
 they occupy. The mouldering walls appear 
 to form a part of a bold insulated rock, against 
 the frowning perpendicular sides of which 
 the waves, on the day we visited it, were 
 raging with resistless fury. It is separated 
 from the main land by a precipitous chasm, 
 twenty feet wide, and a hundred deep ; and 
 the only way by which it can be entered is a 
 narrow wall, one of the supporters of the 
 ancient drawbridge, self-supported by its own 
 hard cemented material, and about eighteen 
 inches broad. We waited for a calm moment, 
 when the wind was a little lulled, and quickly 
 stepping over this romantic, and, perhaps, 
 rather insecure bridge, stood on that wild 
 spot, awful in its utter loneliness and deso- 
 lation. We looked through every opening on 
 the boiling gulf below ; and gazed into the 
 yawning chasm through which the walls and 
 battlements had given way, and which is sup- 
 posed to have been the castle kitchen. A 
 legend connected with it, is given by an Irish
 
 CHAPTER VIII. Ill 
 
 tourist ; the subject of which is, that on some 
 great occasion, when all the grandees of the 
 north were assembled to dine with the Lady 
 Margaret M'Donnell, who kept the castle for 
 her young son, an awful crack and roll of the 
 tempest were heard, " and without a mo- 
 ment's notice, kitchen and cook, dresser and 
 table, all the meat, and all the maids in the 
 place, went down awfully into the howling 
 ocean, and nothing remained but a poor tinker 
 who sat in the window mending the kettles 
 and pans, and which is called the tinker's 
 window to this day." The narrator goes on 
 to relate a fact, of the truth of which we can 
 have no doubt ; " the grandees tucked up 
 their skirts and got on firm land, as fast as 
 possible, lest they should follow the poor cook ; 
 and so the Lady Margaret moved off with all 
 haste and fixed herself at Glenarm ; and 
 after a time the roofs fell in, and the place 
 has remained a ruin ever since." 
 
 After having explored every part of the 
 time-worn edifice, we descended by a goat's 
 track to a fine cavern which perforates the 
 rock beneath the castle. The ground was 
 loose, and the descent toilsome, but a grander 
 L 2
 
 112 CHAPTER A^II. 
 
 spectacle could not have met the eye. The 
 tide was dashing full in through the opposite 
 arch of the cave. The waves broke in with a 
 peculiarly solemn and thundering sound ; and 
 though I knew we stood secure, yet as each 
 huge wave rose, yawned, as if about to dis- 
 close all the secrets of the depths of the sea, 
 and then burst in volumes of foam, I held my 
 breath wath a thrilling feeling of awe. The 
 actual sound died away as we travelled on ; 
 but it haunted me for months ; the grand and 
 vivid impression remains present with me 
 still. 
 
 We breakfasted at Bushmills, where the 
 people of the little inn were exceedingly 
 attentive and obliging ; which, indeed, was a 
 general remark we made throughout Ireland. 
 After this refreshment, accompanied by a 
 guide, we drove on for a mile and a-half, by 
 a wretched road, to a cottage, where we 
 alighted, and prepared for our walk to the 
 Giant's Causeway. The day was dry and 
 fine, and the boisterousness of the wind added 
 greatly to the impressiveness of the sea-view, 
 but did not promise well for our contemplated 
 passage to Glascow. 
 
 i
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 113 
 
 The gale blew occasionally with such vio- 
 lence, that at the desire of the guides, in 
 some places, we lay down on the cliffs till 
 the gusts had passed over : the sea, to the 
 verge of the horizon, was white with foam. 
 
 We were not disappointed, as many visitors 
 profess to be, with the scenery of the Giant's 
 Causeway. It seems almost unnecessary to 
 describe that curious construction of the coast, 
 and savage grandeur with which every one, 
 by personal inspection, or by the descriptions 
 given in books, feels so well acquainted : but 
 I will endeavour to give a very brief sketch 
 of it. 
 
 The two great Capes of Bengore and Fair- 
 head stand at the distance of seven or eight 
 miles from each other. They are formed of 
 rows of pillars, placed one upon another, 
 composed of a black-looking stone, called 
 basalt. The whole line of coast between 
 these headlands is formed in the same manner, 
 but the part called Pleaskin Promontory, with 
 its storied pillars, various coloured stratifica- 
 tions, and generally graceful combinations 
 and beautiful form, is the most perfect. 
 There the pillars stand straight, sixty feet 
 L 3
 
 114 CHAPTER YUI. 
 
 high, like a grand colonnade ; then succeeds 
 a solid mass of rock, under which stands a 
 second row of pillars, forty or fifty feet in 
 height, the whole straight height being 170 
 feet ; but beyond that, the rock slopes down 
 to the sea 200 feet more. We were told 
 that the columns appear more perfect in 
 proportion as they lie lower. On this pro- 
 montory we sat down for a considerable time 
 to rest, while our two guides (the most 
 gallant and polite guides that ever the world 
 produced) undertook to instruct us, but me 
 in particular (for no doubt they concluded 
 women needed it most) in all the wonders of 
 that part of the country. 
 
 " Now observe, my Lady," the chief 
 speaker continued, " the columns with four 
 sides are called quadrangular ; those with 
 five, pentagons, &c. ; and, as I will show 
 you presently, we have only one with three 
 sides, and that is called triangular ! And 
 now, my Lady, if you'll just come down 
 here, — Allow me to assist you. Surely, I 
 never saw a lady climb so weU ! Now just 
 rest your hand on my shoulder ; don't fear ; — 
 I stand as firm as a rock ; and the rock
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 115 
 
 should give way sooner than I'd fail you, 
 my Lady ! " Then, turning to the gentlemen, 
 he added, with an encouraging glance towards 
 me, " I'd not be afraid to guide this lady 
 anywhere. Just look back now, Ma'am, and 
 see what a precipice you've come down !" 
 I had not much time for looking back, for 
 the wind was tremendous. It had so far 
 separated the crown from the front of my 
 Tuscan bonnet, that it was obliged to be 
 secured under my chin with E.'s silk hand- 
 kerchief, which removed all further troubles 
 about my head. As for the rest of my 
 apparel, it might have blown over to Scot- 
 land, had not my friend the guide put his 
 arm round me, and lifted me down a perpen- 
 dicular rock, where we gained more shelter 
 whilst cautiously descending the cliff by a 
 zigzag path. When we were safely arrived 
 at the bottom, our attention was directed to 
 a line of five or six women, with large 
 burdens of sea-weed on their backs, walking, 
 with apparent ease and firmness, up an almost 
 perpendicular part of the cliff. At times 
 they were obliged to use their hands and 
 knees, as they seemed almost hanging in
 
 116 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 mid air. They were without shoes and 
 stockings, and daily habit had made their 
 feet familiar with an ascent, where no 
 stranger could have ventured with safety. 
 
 Having sat down for a minute in the 
 Giant's Armchair, we continued picking our 
 way through fragments of rock close under 
 the cliff, in order to observe the columnar 
 formation more closely, during which time 
 I listened to another edifying discourse from 
 the guide on the nature of volcanic eruptions, 
 &c., &c., and on the peculiar shaped promi- 
 nences on some rocks, which he called onion- 
 stones ; and they were certainly well named, 
 the different rounded coats appearing one 
 within another, as may be observed in a 
 large onion. But this is anticipating our 
 route. After having walked a considerable 
 distance along the shingly shore, we reached 
 the part which is more properly termed the 
 Giant's Causeway. It looks like a mole 
 stretching from the base of a lofty headland, 
 some hundred feet into the sea. There was 
 a pavement of pillars set close together, like 
 a huge solid honeycomb. We walked as far 
 as we could upon it ; but the sea would not
 
 CHArTER VIII. 117 
 
 allow us to reach its extremity. Even as it 
 was we were nearly drenched with the spray. 
 The breadth of this causeway is about thirty 
 feet. The columns connected with the cause- 
 way have been traced to a great distance 
 from the shore ; and as the opposite coast of 
 Scotland, the Island of Staffa, bears the same 
 character, it is supposed that a similar forma- 
 tion is continued the whole way. 
 
 Our last undertaking was to visit a cavern. 
 A much grander one can only be approached 
 by sea, and no boat could venture near it on 
 such a day. We climbed over some rocks to 
 gain an entrance into the one through which 
 we groped our way. " Now, my Lady," said 
 my excellent friend, the guide, "if you'll just 
 leap down, I'll take care you shan't fall." 
 " But are you sure," I asked, " that there is 
 solid ground below ? — for it looks very dark." 
 However, I jumped down ; and a figure soon 
 appeared with a torch in one hand and a gun 
 in the other. We were right glad of the light 
 afforded by the former, but we dispensed with 
 the effect to be produced by the latter. The 
 tide for which we had waited, Iiad now retired, 
 and left behind a great quantity of large sea-
 
 118 CHAPTER vrn. 
 
 weed, with which the sloping cavern was 
 completely carpeted. Thanks to the guide's 
 firm support, I kept some degree of footing ; 
 but E., and IMr. W., a fellow-traveller, 
 also in search of the picturesque, Avith whom 
 we formed a passing acquaintance at Cole- 
 raine, were slipping in all directions, and 
 were much more frequently to be seen on 
 their knees or backs, than on their feet. At 
 length, with infinite labour, we arrived at the 
 upper end of the cave, having been strictly 
 forbidden by the guide to look behind us, till 
 we gained a particular spot. " And now, my 
 Lady, hold firm by this rock, and turn 
 round ! " We all did so, at the same moment ; 
 and a truly magnificent spectacle presented 
 itself The steep and gloomy cavern was 
 terminated a long way off", by a lofty and 
 finely formed natural arch, through which a 
 stream of light burst in with the angry 
 waves, making the surrounding darkness 
 more strikingly visible ; while the roar of 
 waves reverberated awfully through the 
 vaulted cave. Farther out at sea, dark rocks 
 of fanciful shapes were towering high above 
 the foaming spray, while at more distant in-
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 119 
 
 tervals, portions of the bright blue sky occa- 
 sionally appeared mingling with the agitated 
 element beneath. 
 
 What undoubting faith we exercise in the 
 common concerns of life, in all our arrange- 
 ments made with reference to returning day 
 and night, or to the alternate seasons of the 
 year ! a description of faith, which in the 
 Infidel, and it is to be feared, in many a pro- 
 fessed Christian, looks no higher than to the 
 laivs of nature, without regard to nature's 
 God. We stood in the farthest extremity 
 of that gloomy cavern, and gazed with an 
 untroubled eye, on those boiling and gigantic 
 waves ; one of which, would have been suf- 
 ficient to sweep us into the abyss of ocean. 
 Whence then arose the absence of all feeling 
 of insecurity ? Simply because the tide had 
 receded, and the Word of God had declared, 
 " Fear ye not me ? saith the Lord, who hath 
 placed the sand for the bound of the sea, by a 
 perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it ; and 
 though the waves thereof toss themselves, 
 yet can they not prevail ; though they roar, 
 yet can they not pass over it."* He com- 
 * Jer. V. 22.
 
 120 CHAPTER MTL. 
 
 manded, and the perpetual decree stands 
 fast. 
 
 Leaving the cavern, we returned to the 
 cottage in order to procure some boxes of 
 mineralogical specimens ; and from thence to 
 Bushmills, where dinner had been provided 
 for us. We then removed with our luggage 
 to a small cottage where passengers generally 
 awaited the arrival of the packet. A hand- 
 some young woman, without shoes or stock- 
 ings, was cooking potatoes in an immense 
 cauldron over the fire ; whilst two or three 
 particularly pretty children were playing 
 about. She seemed greatly distressed, that 
 the little parlour was already occupied by two 
 gentlemen, who were dining on broiled sal- 
 mon and potatoes. They proved to be Irish 
 officers of the Eighty-sixth, who were waiting 
 like ourselves, for the arrival of the Glasgow 
 packet. In less than a quarter of an hour, 
 they came out, and invited us into the state 
 apartment, politely apologizing for having 
 been the means of excluding us from it so 
 long. They were very gentlemanly men, 
 with much conversational talent, which they 
 exerted in an agreeable and rational manner,
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 121 
 
 but my head ached dreadfull j, after so long 
 a day's exposure to the rough wind and 
 weather ; and nothing more comfortable pre- 
 sented itself in this little cabin apartment, 
 than a few small, and venj upright-hacked 
 wooden chairs ; so that after conversing with 
 our new acquaintances for a short time, we 
 gladly M^ent out to vary the scene ; but on 
 the lonely and desolate shore, with our feet 
 sinking deeply into the sand at every step, 
 there was nothing sufficiently attractive to 
 beguile the excessive sense of fatigue and 
 weariness that oppressed me ; so we sought 
 the sheltered side of a vast rock, from which 
 the tide had receded, and which offered a sort 
 of large arm-chair recess, as if hollowed out 
 for the purpose by artificial means. There 
 with my aching head resting on my kind 
 brother's shoulder, I slept, notwithstanding 
 the howling of the wind ; and no rest that I 
 had ever enjoyed before, seemed so grateful, 
 no slumbers so sweet, as on that occasion ! 
 and never did the prophet's figurative descrip- 
 tion of the preciousness of Christ's salvation 
 to the believer, come more vividly home to 
 my heart, " And a man shall be as a hiding-
 
 122 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 place from the tempest, as the shadow of a 
 great rock in a weary land.''^ 
 
 About five o'clock, the shrill voices of four 
 or five women proclaimed that the steamer 
 was in sight. Away we all ran to an ele- 
 vated point on the shore, the baggage being 
 hastily caught up by the different individuals 
 present, for no time was to be lost. But in 
 vain were our signals made, and efforts used 
 to shew how many passengers wished to go 
 on board ; the prognostications of the boat- 
 men were verified, that the vessel would be 
 afraid to venture near so dangerous a coast in 
 such a gale ; and with desponding counte- 
 nances, we saw her bear away towards Scot- 
 land, at about six miles distance from the 
 land. I speak of momentary regret, because 
 the hours of waiting had been so tedious ; 
 but we had much greater reason to be thank- 
 ful for the disappointment ; as even the 
 sailors coolly expressed their doubts whether 
 a boat could have reached the vessel in 
 safety. 
 
 What *was to be done ? There was no 
 house anywhere near at which we could pass 
 the night ; and there was no certainty that a
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 123 
 
 carriage could be procured nearer than Cole- 
 raine. However, a messenger was despatched 
 to Bushmills ; and after a long vexatious 
 delay, the rattling of wheels sounded like sweet 
 music in our ears, and we all returned in a 
 car to Miss Henry's hotel, at Coleraine. The 
 kind landlady expressed great joy at seeing 
 us again, and I must acknowledge that the 
 pleasure was mutual, as we anticipated the 
 quiet refreshment of a night's repose under 
 her comfortable roof, instead of being tossed 
 through the hours of darkness on a stormy 
 sea. 
 
 M 2
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "On Lough Neagh's banks, as the fisherman strays, 
 
 When the clear cold eve's declining, 
 He sees the round towers of other days, 
 
 In the waves beneath him shining." 
 
 Moore's Irish Melodies. 
 
 The morning beamed upon us in tranquil 
 loveliness. No traces remained in the 
 atmosphere of the storm of the preceding 
 day ; and soon after breakfast we were again 
 in motion. Near Antrim we turned out of 
 the direct road, in order to drive through 
 Lord O'Neill's park, which extends along one 
 end of the shore of Lough Neagh. The lake 
 is about twenty miles long, and fifteen broad ; 
 and is said to cover an area of about 98,000 
 acres, its circumference being above eighty 
 miles. It lies in the centre of the province 
 of Ulster, being bounded by five counties, 
 and is about thirty feet above the level of
 
 CHAPTER IX. 125 
 
 the sea. It wore a totally different appear- 
 ance to what it had done the day before, 
 when we gazed from a distant eminence over 
 its wide expanse, for its glassy, unruffled 
 surface reflected every passing shadow. The 
 ruins of Shane's Castle stand on its north-east 
 shore. This edifice had been for centuries 
 the residence of the noble family of O'Neill ; 
 but was accidentally destroyed by fire in 
 1816, which consumed an extensive library, 
 and many valuable paintings. The vaults, 
 yet entire, extend to the very verge of the 
 lake ; and a few turrets are still standing. 
 A number of cannons were mounted on the 
 fort ; and it does not appear that in former 
 days these were placed there for mere show, 
 as in "Stuart's Armagh," p. 374, there is 
 an account of a sharp naval battle, fought on 
 the lake, in which many of the Irish were 
 killed and taken prisoners. 
 
 The family of O'Neill sprang from Belus, 
 a Gothic king of the Orkneys. They came 
 into Ireland in the latter part of the ninth 
 century, and became powerful chiefs of 
 Ulster, and determined opposers of the in- 
 vaders of the country. It was at the latter 
 M 3
 
 126 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 part of the reign of Queen Elizabeth that the 
 celebrated Shane O^Neill flourished, whose 
 singular prowess and deeds of arms, or those 
 of one of his descendants are celebrated in 
 a ditty which commences thus : — 
 
 " In the historic pages of Erin's green isle, 
 
 How bright shines the name of old Pbelim the brave, 
 
 Who lived where the groves of Shane's castle now smile, 
 AndNeagh's crystal waters the green meadows lave." 
 
 There was an air of solitary grandeur in the 
 scene, as we walked on the lonely shore, 
 seeking for the pebbles and petrifactions, for 
 which its waters are celebrated. The silence 
 of death seemed to reign over the vast lake ; 
 and the half demolished towers contrasted 
 strangely with the verdant lawns and bright 
 plantations by which they were partially 
 enclosed. It was a sort of scene that seemed 
 to impart its own pensive sadness to the 
 mind. No wonder then, that, like every 
 other singular spot in Ireland, it should have 
 its full share of legendary lore. For instance, 
 one astonishing account of the formation of 
 the lake is, that the L-ish giant. Fin M'Coul, 
 took a handful of earth and flung it into the
 
 CHAPTER IX. 127 
 
 sea. The handful was of such a size, that 
 where it fell, it formed the Isle of Man, and 
 the hollow caused by its removal formed the 
 basin of the present Lough Neagh ! Another, 
 equally marvellous, attributes it to the neg- 
 ligence of a woman, who having neglected 
 the injunction to close the wicket-gate of a 
 well which had been endowed with miraculous 
 properties by some now forgotten saint, the 
 indignant waters immediately sprang from 
 their bed ; the terrified woman fled, but the 
 waters followed close upon her heels, and 
 when she sank down exhausted, closed for 
 ever around her, and formed the present 
 lough, the length of which is just the distance 
 she ran ! 
 
 Continuing our journey, we were often 
 amused with the humours of the Irish in the 
 towns through which we passed, for it was 
 market-day, and a joyous spirit seemed to 
 pervade all ranks. Oh, how different is the 
 face of that country now ! for her " young 
 children faint for hunger in the top of every 
 street;"* and "all her people sigh, they 
 seek bread, they have given their pleasant 
 * Lam. ii. 19.
 
 128 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 things for meat."* "The young children 
 ask bread, and no man giveth it unto them." 
 *'The elders have ceased from the gate, the 
 young men from their music." f " Their visage 
 is blacker than a coal ; they are not known 
 in the streets : their skin cleaveth to their 
 bones ; it is withered, it is become like a 
 stick." t 
 
 It is a beautiful observation of Archbishop 
 Leighton's, that we "see in a jeweller's shop, 
 pearls, and diamonds, and other precious 
 stones ; and files, and cutting instruments, 
 and many sharp tools for their polishing ; 
 and while they are in the workhouse they 
 are continual neighbours to them, and often 
 come under them. The Church is God's 
 jewellery — his workhouse, where his jewels 
 are polishing for his palace and house ; and 
 those he especially esteems, and means to 
 make most resplendent, he hath oftenest his 
 tools upon." 
 
 Often have his sharpest tools been at work 
 upon our Sister island. Instead of judging 
 and condemning the sins of that unhappy 
 land, let us hope that brighter days of 
 • Lara. i. 1 1 ; iv. 4. t Lam. v. 14. % Lam. iv. 8.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 129 
 
 spiritual light and discernment are in store 
 for it, and that God is preparing therein 
 spiritual stones to be built up in his glorious 
 temple ; vessels of gold meet for the Master's 
 use ; pillars on which to inscribe his own 
 glorious perfections ; a land destined to be 
 made " willing in the day of his power," and 
 to repay her present debt to England's sis- 
 terly sympathy and aid, by provoking her to 
 godly jealousy by her future Christian zeal 
 and devotedness to Him who has smitten 
 her. 
 
 We reached Belfast at midnight. The 
 hotel was locked up, and the waiter seemed 
 to think refreshment quite unnecessary for 
 travellers arriving at such an unseasonable 
 hour. Major C, however, expostulated with 
 him in a calm, good-tempered manner ; and 
 placed the emergencies of the case in such a 
 ludicrous light that his obduracy was mol- 
 lified, and he promised to call up one of the 
 maids to light a fire. Everything was soon 
 prepared for a comfortable repast, and we sat 
 down to tea, triumphing in our victory. 
 
 During breakfast the following morning, 
 another friend of F.'s, from Dublin, was
 
 130 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 introduced into our apartment. He came 
 " with hospitable thoughts intent," and to 
 aid us as strangers with his counsel ; but our 
 hours in Erin were numbered : and as he 
 stayed with us to the last moment on board 
 the steamer, we took our leave of him with 
 regret, for he seemed like a last memento of 
 the kindness and attention which we had so 
 invariably experienced since our first arrival 
 in Dublin. 
 
 It was with a pensive sort of feeling that 
 we stept on board the splendid Fingal, a 
 beautifully fitted up steam-vessel : a very 
 different sort of affair, no doubt, to the ship 
 in which the mighty Fingal pursued his 
 foes over the dark blue wave, when " the 
 daughters of Morven came forth and looked 
 towards green Erin for the white sails of the 
 king." As we towed a large American vessel 
 out of the Lough, our progress at first was 
 slow, so that we paced up and down the 
 deck, with thoughts somewhat allied to sad- 
 ness, and watched the green coast gradually 
 fading from our view. These dull thoughts 
 were somewhat dissipated with the morning 
 light, when, on ascending the deck, we found
 
 CHAPTER IX. 131 
 
 ourselves majestically sailing up the beau- 
 teous Clyde, its waters sparkling beneath the 
 glorious beams of the rising sun, and bathing 
 the soft green shores ; while, in the distance, 
 rose the majestic mountains, with Ben 
 Lomond just peeping behind them, the whole 
 scene peopling at once the excited imagina- 
 tion with Scottish heroes of renown, chivalric 
 knights, and poetic visions. 
 
 But I must stop. My simple narrative 
 of Erin's attractive loveliness, contrasted 
 with her present weight of woe, must here 
 close. One of her own poets has said, that — 
 
 " Darkness shows us worlds of light 
 We never saw by day." 
 
 So may Ireland experience that her night 
 of darkness is but to make more visible the 
 nearer manifestations of God's love and grace. 
 Perhaps, like Mary at the sepulchre, her eyes 
 are blinded by sorrow, so that she sees not 
 who it is that stands by to watch the refining 
 process. England, with tender and liberal 
 sympathy, has helped to bear her burthen, 
 and to impart to her of her abundance. 
 And let the pleading heart and voice accom-
 
 132 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 pany the stretched out, bountiful hand : plead 
 for thy Sister isle at the throne of grace : — 
 " And when thou standest before His gate, 
 knock loudly and boldly as one who belongs 
 to the house ; and if the door is not imme- 
 diately opened, take the staff of the promises 
 and make a noise with it at His palace-gate. 
 Say, ' Thou hast said, Cast all thy care upon 
 me, and I will sustain thee.' The whole 
 treasury of heaven stands open to you in 
 Christ Jesus." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Macintosh, Printer, Great New-street, London.
 
 dea

 
 <<// 
 
 7'