Skip to main content

Full text of "Ireland. Dublin, the Shannon, Limerick, Cork, and the Kilkenny races, the round towers, the lakes of Killarney, the county of Wicklow ... and the Giant's causeway"

See other formats 


This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 
to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 
publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 

We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 



at |http : //books . google . com/ 



NYPL f^ESEAflCH LIBRARIES 



3 3433 06933642 2 



# M 






♦ I- 





■^1 


♦ 


t^ 




A'J 



^*JW? 







^ok.' 



\^ 



IRE LAND. 



i>»X^S^^ ^ »i##»»»W 



DUBLIN, THE SHANNON, LIIHERICE, 

CORK, AND THE KILKENNY 8A0E8, 



THE 



BOUND TOWERS, THE LAKES OF KILLARNEV; 



THE 



COUNTY OF WICKLOW, 

O'CONNELL AND THE REPEAL ASSOCIATION; 

8ELFAST LU THE filANTS CAHSSWAT. 

BT J. 6. KOHL. 



<^>iUiiiiJ^i;r, 




» NEW-YORK: 

HARPER ft BROTHERS, 83 CLIFF-STREET. 



1844. 



KMfll «•. 



1 A .M 



:iU9Ö66 



i 



IRELAND, 



DUBLIN. 

Tbk Bay of Dublin, sbftUow «od unprotected 
frDm winds, may have bnt little value m a sail- 
or's ey^, biu to the stranger it affords a beauti- 
ful prospect, particularly if be contemplaies it, 
as was my case, on a fine cheerful morning, 
from the deck of a steamer, after having spent 
Ibe night in a storm at sea«. The land, stretch- 
ing upward in two peniDsulas, looks as If it 
were opening its arms to receive bim. la the 
«oulhern hand it bes^rs the harbour and town of 
Kingstown, in the northern the harbour and 
town of Uowth, and deep in its bosom it cher- 
Ishea the metropolis of the country, the ancient 
Irish Ballagh-AfchtCliath, a name which it re- 
tains to the present day. Ptolemsus called it 
«rroneously Kblana, and to all the non- Irish pSLtt, 
of the worid it is known under the denomination 
of Dublin. 

On the left side, near Kingstown, lies the lit- 
tle ialand of Dalkey, and on the right side, near 
Howtb, the equally little island called Ireland's 
£ye. The name is characteristic and appropri- 
ate, for ittst here in the middle of the eastern 
coast it IS that Ireland may be said to have open- 
ed her eye to look out towards England. Per- 
liaps it would be nearer the truth to aay that her 
«ye has here been forced open ; for had Ireland 
liier own way, could she free herself from her 
vicinity to, and her dependence on, England — 
(Could she, in short, turn her back on England^ 
ahe would have opened her eye in a very differ- 
ent direction. O'Connell, the ^reat Irish pa- 
triot, has his suinmer residence in the far west 
of the island, on the Atlaotic coast, into which 
he takes much more pleasure in looking, than 
into the Irish Sea and over to England ; and 
most of the Irish,.hadthey their own way, would 
probably like to run over to the Atlantic coast, 
and erect their capital there. For 600 vears, 
however, England has made Ireland tarn her 
obstinate head round, and not keep her back 
turned upon her neighbour. 

The ancient capiul of Ireland, if such an ez- 
uression will here apply, was Tara. Dublin is 
(be capital of English making. Richard I. built 
aoastle here in 1204, and made it the seat of the 
^incipal courts of law, and the residence of his 
vice-gi»veroor. Since then» marks of favour, 
and titles of magistracy, and charters, and cor- 
porations, and public buildings, and Wellington 
IQonuments, have been poured forth upon the 
eity, till it has grown to be great and mpre beau- 
ful than even London and Edinbuiigh; ^nd on 
the other hand, the loyal citizens of Dublin un- 
der their provosts and lord mayors, atid the Eng- 
lish armies under their lords deputies and their 
lords lieutenant, and episcopal excommunica- 
tions, apd royal letters of menace, have since 
then kept pouring forth from the city upon the 
rest of the country, which, through the agency 
ji' Dublin, has continued to become more and 
inore dependent and more and more English.» 



Th« hituaj of ihe •nbjeciiun, colooization, and org». 



We (that 18, my only fel]ow-2assenger in the 
steamer, and myself) landed at Kingstown, cloee 
to two very illnstHons footsteps hewn out of the 
rock on the qua v. They are the steps of Geoi^ 
IV., who landed here when be* visited Ireland in 
1821, and to whose honour a monument haar 
been erected close to the "two said steps, tf 
scarcely thöt^ht flattery Had been so well un- 
derstood in Great Britain. To hew ont the 
steps of the sovereign on his visit to one of his 
principal cities, and erect monuments in com- 
memoration of the event ! One would soppoefr 
Ireland a little out-of-the-way place somewhere 
beyond the Orkneys when one finds the visit of 
its sovereign treated äs so memorable an occur- 
rence ; and, in fact, when we eoosMer that Ire- 
land, near as it is to London, was never visited 
by George III., nor by Gteorge II., nor by George» 
I., and that during the century that preceded 
them, the country never saw its sovereign ex- 
cept in arms, for the suppression of foreign or 
domeistic enemies, it may not be unfair to speak 
of Ireland, bjy the side of the great man-of-war, 
England, as a lirtle' captured bark uken con- 
temptuously in tow. Our kings of Prnssia fre- 
quently gladden their several provinces with a 
vi^it, except Lithuania perhaps, to which one 
dc^s hot often hear of their going; the emperors 
of Russia are almost always on the move, and 
show themlselv«s now in Moseow, now in St 
Petersburg, now in Odessa, now in Warsaw— 
in short, in aK patts of their domioions except 
in Siberia ; the emperors of Austria, on their 
accession, go to reeeive the homage of all but 
their Waiacbian subjeetä; It«land, the impor- 
tant thiittof themifhty imperial trinity of Great 
Britaiih has been left to the toft, like the Lithu- 
ania of Prussia and the Siberia of Russia, and 
on every new aecaMfon of a British sovereign, 
ait that Ireland has had to do has been to waft* 
her applause across the Channel, as well as she 
haa been «Me to d» ao with her boand and Ibt- 
tsred hands. 

A man, when he laoda in Irland, however, 
comes 10 hoaouT without being praeisely a king. 
'*Yonr honours," was ttie first salutaiioQ we 
oiet with. It was firom a Di^lin caiMlriver* 
" It's early; your hoDonrs, and the railroad won't. 
be rraritiing He engine for you this hour and a 
bftlf to come. Take my ear, your honours, and 
ril drive yott up to your hotel, »üd ™!'5 more 
than the engine will do for you." The reason- 
ing seemed good enough, and the offer was ac- 
cepted. The vehicle we embarked in seemed 
strange and grotesque to me. It was a kiird of 
square box, with elasses in the front, and we 
entered from behind. The machine went upon 



nizatioD of Irelandf from Dublin as a central point, pw- 
aenta manr itrikingr points of reramblance with the tim- 
qoest of Fialaml by th* «wedea from Abo, and with th« 
organizaiiuB of Lavouia. Coarlaad, and Eathimta by th« 
German! from Ricra ; i«tvonia, Finland, and Irabind, maf • 
be looked on as three German colonial stntes, furm^d q- 
fureigu intrudef«. anmng native popuUtionc Jtwked noetkif 
mastateofbaitahan. 



twu wheels, and resembled some of the Chioese 
equipages of which I ha^e read. 

Dablin is the second city of the United King- 
dom, but is at the same time one of the first and 
largest of Europe ; for in population it falls lit- 
tle short of St. Petersbuiig, Mosco|r. and Vi«- 
na; rivals Berlin and Lisbon; and. surpaaaes 
Brussels, Stockholm, Rome, Milan, and Pestb. 
Pew of these capitals have risen to their present 
importance in so short a time as Dabhn. St. 
Petersburg alone surpasses it in this respect, 
an4 Berlin about equals it The.beßt «omMir. 
iaoq, however, would be with Pesth^ which» like 
DuUitt, is the ca^iutlof a di^ndant kingdom, 
and,» ihe residence. o( a viqeroy, ha^s risen from 
acoUect^nofwoodien booths and basket-work; 
huta, 10 be one.of the handsomest cities of Bm- 

babliB, haviogibean built hy Epf Ushmen, has 
<mite the exterior of an Eaglish city. With the 
exicepUon of its wretched ;sttburbS), and the quar- 
tors abandoned to miseiy, DubUn ha^only what 
■Miy be seen in most of; the Ugr^i^ i^nglish town«. 
The private house»; of the weaUhy^as in Engi 
ipid. ate smaU, neat aiid.plaia^ 9m the public 
buildings equally rica in ptllaraand.omamentSk 
iftn>tniJiidaa^col«Dnade&andp<Hlal3« The quays, 
Itehthousesy dooks, and patent slips» remiiid one 
of Liverpool, and the noble Custom-house, the 
Postoffioe, with its Ionic, and the FontOourts. 
with its Corinthian columoa, afe ail spiendia 
buildings» but of the same character as. those 
que. meets wUh in Englaiud« Then the streeu 
are spaciouft and the .aide putTeiaenta broad and 
ccmvenienti as in English towusj. the squares, 
pevbaps, more, beautiful, and ^ buUdi^gs even 
mcffe ocBamQDi^). This wonl "ornaoi^tar' 
as. vierv ebaracteristfc -of EagWi - toiwua» Th^ 
SVmich talk o( their Mm^ lUMMfHmkiiff,'' the 
J^ugUah. tell one of their ornamental towns, by 
vi^mek they meau^ towns thaticouiain bujMdiuffs 
^vithra prarnsiou of plUan; The . HussiaB: and 
Apericaacaiiee^reche oaiy^Hnea tMtjOn fiuatc^ 
ikim ef Euglaod in, poiut.af: piiia^ In^ Oerr 
ma«r we.talk oimf ''auU^NMiaud pktuasA^na". 
<:iiies).aud thoaeiwie have^ 'Wiheieast th«( Spgkishi 
JMMr«i>theai not, wiith. all« their «i^lamQ«^ Of 
•emmfi, aweepiugfiiijsaiof.thiaikiml-fimfQplfwiib* 

iNatauuvpillaissfaQd'^VMIiMglau laaiiaMMiialat. 
taafAare Mirtwwntiuy in iDnbltejiiiinfaDBe ihiA 
lanEagliahftQwuai^ewnHy. Tnwiif GoUege 
hm itaibeMiifttl-^ardiBna, ahttb^up fiMu Ihe^puV 
lie, like the colics at Oxford, and thed^Mla, 
imimid(mff9i0lb'ibentimnsT,4$ hum imtition 
<)CMiQr«iiiKBmhOMtles!tu.fi09lMl füt-hHtii 
hMowbatdilhatrilieliftd bctusr^^iHhaJic^eoo«)- 
t^^^ftf<>cflntaliiMl«t thereft«e firesent thfideeom-' 
tm)«f ^oui olncotoffiiidtDaAfaiii«^ ivt u^mble ea- 
tkcrirala,i^aiid;i^4Jli^ ehftjMiaäiM UMe^tfOmeffa-of 
thsmtreeisi NiMßigfPfmifM. Th^atmpgeri 
an^aa^lHlle <;i^hiäkHii8ft<iu I^«Mi|loa6he4k«8i 
P^tesifimiipi in.^fagj^cv , Ife/pwia|gaious, no 
iQUDj^SfPo^jpinGs^ about the «y^iie^ Thf^Oalho-: 
Ifc 4(1^^ *s.iheyArp>art|edti afip«eufir|tlly email 
pi^Qi^,.and JKfirn frQi^view!A9^>tbeilaiiea and. 
alievA/itf the c;ity, UUmiy svf^cA^VU^ that the 
uatlipUca have oeen allowed toopeu their chap- 
els at all. The Protestant Epispppal churches^ 
of which these are more than twenty«'l9pk.vexy 
v^zh h'lfie Jhe Protestant churches of Euglaad, 
and khe^cAlebraic^ eathedcal of St l<^triers, the 
■Hist di9ti9gaJdh«d«(f all the aneif»it ecclesias- 
%al edifices of Irpliaind, is iu the whole of its 
azchiteclora ihe.venrdiUo of.iha aaiJuxiralft g^- 



IRELAND. 

Chester, Carlisle^ and others in the west of Eng^ 



land. I could not, however, reconcile it to mv- 
self to find that in the churches of St. Patrick^s, 
St Kevin's, and of other Irish Catholic saints, 
whose names can have little signification for 
Vrotestaui; ^pglishmen, no Catholic service 
sho|Pld be held. I had not crossed the Channel 
in a storm to find myself still in England. ^ Ire- 
land, national Irelend, I had come to see, but 
that I found had -to be sought else where than m 
its great towns. I therefore made but a shoit 
stay in the merry c^pi^lt ^^^ determined to 
make a round through the west and south, after ^ 
which it was my io£oiiou> to >nlain .to Oohlin. 
in order to inform myaelf^m. various naatteiftotl 
a characterisHe and ^eraiiuterest 

FHOW DÜBWN TO EDPBWORya- 

A man must travel a long wajr by railnoad kk 
Engla^id, or had best make up his mindto erosa 
over to Ireland at once, if he wish to see the- an- 
tique stage coach offices wirieh f<Nrmerty «bounds 
ed in the country, and which are so bilmonraslf 
described by the i^i^atfr part of the writers oft* 
England. The first day ou which I saw one of 
these establishments was in Dublin, and on the 
d6th of September^ on which day I prepared my^ 
self for mV departure for the interior oz the gre^ 
island: The first slanceut sueh an office h nee 
calculated, to produce a very favourable im* 
pression. The many long^printed bills on the 
waif, warping travellers that the 6fiiee holcb 
itself in no way responsible for damage done to 
a ipaveller's e^cts. nor even for their loss, nor 
for the retention of displace, and hinting various 
other equally agrcjcablc contingencies, are apt to 
fill a stranger^s mind with uneasiness. Then ho 
is somewhat embarrassed as to where he shall 
sit. Ins|de there's as little spare room as in 4| 
herring-ca$k, and on tbe outside, a littfe iron 
bulwark» QLly four Inches high, is all tfaatguards 
him against an. abyss of fifteen feet. The st^C 
of it is enpugh to majif:e a mw g^^y. To say 
truth, the places in. and on an Et^^ii^ stage 
Qoacb are the most comfortless thfngs of th^r 
kind on earth, i^nd t was at first at a toss ttr rec- 
otHCÜethem wUh the ct^racteristic lore of the 
Bi)glish for convenience. I solve the riddle 
thus : tu every undertaking the English k;^ the 
main end steadily in view. This, in theit 
booses,. Is domestic comfort, and accordlmly 
nothlng^oau he mpre flütll of comfort than an IsSe* 
lish house. In traveljin?, the matu end is, to get 
i on as fast,as4)o?8ible, and>hatever can contfib- 
ute to this 19. apmirably arrangi^d. The car- 
riages. tUQUl^ as so^id äs iron \nA steeT can 
make them,, at^ of BUiprising^^htness. the hors- 
es swi^ sis bit:d?>.^l^d^|ie coaj6hm(fn an iirttstsini 
their Une;. but. conveiij|ent se^ts you must not 
hope'fo.r, npr Will wu lind H advis'a)t)!e io ea^ 
much lu|s»ge. with you ; all. you have a ri^ght to 
expeqt i§5;(|^at wet or dry, <*fean or dirty, with 
whpfe bones or proferea, ypu will be brotight to 
the end of your jjouraey within a.ifew minufewof 
the apppip^ied ^me. Every /other consideration 
is of secondary imppitance to a man of busi- 
ness, and of every hundred who travel in Engs> 
land, ninety do ao on bnsioess. * 

I always choose am outside place. You cau 
thence see the counti^ conveniently right and 
left, provided you do liot lose your head m start- 
ing. The i^teway» of most English coaeH-pfiSh 
ce»--and thifs agaf» is an enigma-^are so tow, 
that eveiy. outside pmeaager waxM inlhUihljt 



JRELAND. 



Viä"^ his tiead bebind bim, if be iK^lected the 
irarDiiig of the guard, who \n a load voice calls 
<^D every man to stoop bis head. 

"All right!" cried the guard just as the clock 
Struck six, or rather just as the hand of the clock 
j)oiDted to that hour; (br in an English town 
there are more clocks that show the hour, and 
iG^wer that announce it in an audible tone, than 
in one of our own cities. "All right 1 stoop 
•your heads, gentlemen !" Thirteen heads were 
bent in obedience to the woM of command, and 
' by the time we bad raised them again, and made 
ourselves as comfortable as we could, we were 
toiling away (torn the city of Dublin, into the 
"County of the same name. 

Our road lay through the heart of Ireland, 
"^tbrough its most peopirW and most fertile prov- 
inces, over the rich plains of DtrbHn, KlldafCj 
'Hffeath. Westmeath, and Longford, and the end 
^ of my journey was to be Edgeworthtown, a place 
whither I had been itavited' by one whose name 
is known and honoured in Germany, and the in-i 
titation had been given with so much kindness, 
' ih^e I had resolved to stay some little time there. 
4n order to sharpen and prepare my powers of 
- perception, for the observance of Irisn matters^ 
For, ID many respects, a man coming into a new 
' country is like one suddenly brought mto a dusky 
> cellar, where he overlooks many things and see^ 
"^^olbers iu a false light, because bis eyes are not 
yet accustomed to the place. Not that I would 
"•have tf traveller say nothing of a country till he 
i<bave fafUiliarized himself with it, and become 
^^aUuost a uatii^e; on the contrary, the progress 
'Of his familiarization, nay, bis very errors and 
miscoueeptions, may have in them much that is 
' dianicleristie of the seeues he visits. 

The counties I have justmentioned, and whieb 
lie immediately west fronoi Dublin, are' the most; 
' fbrtiie of Ireland, ate celebrated for> their good 
eakivation, and are looked upon aa a sort of 
'Land of Promise by the poor people >of ClaK, 
£erry, and otbeis of the western distriei^ No- 
* -where else^ except in Wexford, is thens so smail 
« a-portion of the land lying waste in bog or moor;. 
'iQowiiere else are the eaitle so ifine, the corn so 
!«ood and' abundant, and nowhereelse have Eng- 
'&h improvements^ made tniore pfx>gress. These 
oointies were alwatj^ advantageously sitvKited 
fibr the reception of English settlers, and for ttte 
introduction of the EngHsb langnage! the lan- 
jgu^ge, superstition, and cttsiotts of Ireland have 
'ilhefrefore been nearly eztinMted, and an Bnglisb 
d&raeter has been substitnted. Thiese ore his- 
Itetical and undeniable fects, and yei the travel- 
ierwfao visits these bapjiy ragions for the first 
time,'is apt to leceive quite a contrary 'impres- 
akm, and to imagine himself in the most wretch- 
ed part of the coontry. Till he has seen the west 
<of trelkind, he has no idea that human beings can 
Mw in a state of greater misery than in the fer- 
tile environs of Dublin, or that a peopled and 
«■Itfvated land can look wilder than the- eom> 
«bounding plains ofMeath, Kildare, and West- 
meath. In the west of Ireland there are districts 
«wbere a man may imagine himself in a wilder- 
ness abandoned by mankind ; where nothing is 
to'be seen bat roeks, bogs, and brushwood, and 
-where wild beasts alone may be supposed capa- 
.ble of housing. All at once, however, on closer 
inspection, liule > green patdhes, like potato- 
ififtkbs are seen aeattered here* and there atnid the 
In9cks,atid »«tranger is tempted to go nearer and 
••Hamtne ihea. ■ Let hfan look where be fc« |?oing) 
l»weto,!|ir he mayuuiln^a fliiseatep$ <heeanh 



may give way under bis feet, and he may ihfi 
into—What! into an abyss, a cavern, a bogi — 
No, into a but, into a human dwelling-place, 
whose existence he had oyerlooked, because the 
roof ou one side was level with the ground, and 
nearly of the same consistency. Perhaps my 
traveller may draw back his foot just in time, 
and then let him look around, and he will fina 
the place filled with a multitude of similar huts, 
all swarming with life and potatoes. 

It is not so bad certainly in the happy region^ 
of the east, but even these can scarcely be said 
to have the appearance of a cultivated country— 
a tM^^cultivated country is out of the question. 
In a well-cultivated coontry, I expect to see 
fields neatly marked off with hedges and ditches, 
and bordered here and there with trees and other 
signs of demarkation or defence. Among these 
fields I expect' to see neat farmbouses and vil- 
lages, with rool^ !n sound condition, and yards 
onteriy and tidily kept, instead of being fiUed 
with a chaotic mass of stagnant rainwater and 
drainings Ihwn the dunghill. The farmef*s 
bouse I expect to see high and dry with its little 
garden, pretty to look on, though kept for use 
rather than sbow, but in which, nevertheless, the 
cultivator may show his taste in the rearing and 
grafting of bis apple, pear, and peach trees. 
There must be the dairy scmpulousTy clean,. and 
'the tfdy kitchen with its brigbüy scoured pots 
and dishes, and the orderly sitting-room for the 
farmer's family, and perchance now and then a 
company room for particular occasions; but 
why do I dwdl on things, the very trace of which 
is lost almost as soon as one leaves Dublin 1 I 
discovered nothing that deserved to be called 
hedges or fences, and as to gardens, fruit-trees, 
or dower-beds, I eoutd see nothing of the kind. 
I Was at first at a loss how to distinguish the 
dttltivated from the uncultivated land, instead 
of cheerful farmhouses I beheld ruinous huts, 
and whenever the coach stom)ed, I got down that 
I n»ight aee the interiors of the houses, which 
etciied my astonishment. This was in the most 
prosperous part of Ireland, and along the high- 
way. ' How must things have lookra in more 
sedaded places 1 Often I oonld see qu Ite enough 
without getting down, Ibr at times I could stnot 
the interior economy of the establishment thröu» 
the holes in the roof-^be fractured plates in tne 
kitchen, the potato-kettle on the hearth, the heap 
of damp straw fbr a bed in one comer, and' the 
' ^y iu another 1 

The landlords of Irelaiad, accotdfngto' Spen- 
cer, who wrote a book on the country 900 years 
ago, draw their rents from theSr poor (eoMts, 
but do not ausist them in the «section of their 
houses, in the fencing of their fields, or in the 
Impair of their rcNids. If they did, they would 
deiiveae much advan^ge as their tenants frotai 
such a course; but they leave everything to 
chance, and let their tenants get on as wdt as 
tiiey can. Spencer then goes on to describe the 
cottage of an Irish fhrmer in terms quite as suit- 
able to the present day. The Irish landlonls, it 
would seem, are even worse than the great Po* 
lish and Russian proprietors, who at least build 
houses for their peasants, and furnish them With 
food in times of famine. This the Irish landlord 
does Tiot do, because his tenant is a fr^e man, 
thoogfa with only the inconveniences of freedom 
— jtueh as honger, want, and care— 'Without any 
of its ad vantages. He eannot be'flogged, Itmust 
be thankfully: admitted. 

The >]aBd here ia everywhere' level, wläiotil 



^ JRRLAND. 



any picturesque mountains and valleTS, or ru- 
iied casUes and abbeys. The traveller, there- 
fore, beholds no natural beauties to atone for 
the absence of that adornment which human in- 
dustry might have given to the scene. Even the 
waters, have a melancholy cast." The Liffey, 
which we crossed twice, receives several tribu- 
taries from the B(^ of Allen, and has, in con- 
sequence, a brownish colour, like most of the 
rivers of Ireland. This brownish colour, it must 
be observed, does not prevent the water from be- 
ting limpid ; on the contrary, one ma3r see down 
to a great depth in these brown rivers; »but 
brown is quite as much the colour of Ireland as 
green, and the country might just as well have 
been called the topaz island as the emerald isle. 
At Mullingar the road became, for a while, 
more interesting. Here it was that I saw the 
first Irish lake, Lough Owel; and hence, wheth- 
er north or west, a great number of lakes are to 
be met with. In the neighbourhood of Dublin 
there are none, nor all the way between Dublin 
and Cork, but in the north-western part of the 
island their number is very great. I left Lough 
Owel and Lough Iron to the left, and Lough 
Dereveragh to the right, with very little regret ; 
fyr lakes in a plain, without mountains to be 
pictured in their bosoms, are like mirrors with- 
out a pretty face to be reflected by them. To- 
wards evening I arrived at Edgewortbtown 
where I spent some agreeable days in a delight- 
ful circle. 

EDGEWORTHTOWN. 

This is a cheerful little town, in the county of 
Liongford, and has received its name from a fam- 
ily which has become famed throughout the civ- 
ilized world, in consequence of the writings of 
the amiable Maria Edgeworth. This family 
came aver — ^most of the families that own land 
in Ireland are of English origin, and will often 
take . occasion to tell their friends and guests 
when their ancestocs came pv&' from England, in 
the same way that some English families will 
talk of the time when their ancestors came oner 
from Normandy— well,then, the Edge worths came 
over in 1583, under the reign of Glueen Eliza- 
beth. The family was at that time also pos- 
sessed of land in Middlesex, la Ireland they 
became the owners of extensive domains and 
^stles, and, among other places, of the village 
of Pairymount, a name which, in its Gallicized 
form of Firmonty has become celebrated through- 
out the world. The Abb6 Edgeworth, who, ac- 
companied Louis XVI. to the scaffold, derived 
firom this village Ms name of Monsieur de Fir- 
mont 

The father of Maria has also obtained for him- 
self a name of some distinction by his writings. 
His essays are chiefly on mechanical subjects, 
and many interesting little contrivances are still 
shown at Edgeworthtown in testimony of the 
mechanical genius of Richard Lovell Edge- 
worth. Among these, are doors that open when 
a knee is pressed against them» in oraer that a 
servant carrying a loaded fray may enter the 
room withoiit requiring assistance. The most 
remarkable of all, however, is an iron steeple 
that was erected in a very ingenious and eco- 
nomical manner. The lower square half of the 
steeple was built of stone in the usual way, but 
the upper rounded and pointed part was compo- 
sed of iron bars and plates, which were put to- 
gether in the lower body of the .baikUng, and 



when all was ready, by a simple but ingeniont 
mechanism, one half of the steeple was drawa 
out of the olh'y, like the inner tube of a tele- 
scope, and in a few minutes the iron spire was 
raised to the necessary altitude, and was theft 
screwed on to the top of the square tower. 

This gentleman also wrote several works con- 
jointly with his daughter, as the Essay on Prao- 
tical Educatwn and the humorous Essay on Irish 
Bulls. And now, I have no doubt, many of my 
German readers will expect of me a very Da- 
guerreotype of the amiable, cheerful, intelligent, 
and witty authoress, and a precise description of 
the little corner by the window of her pretty libra- 
ry, her usual sitting-room, and of the little wri- 
ting-table, and of SÜI the comfortable and agree- 
able dependencies of the place where the Moral 
Tales^ the Popular Tales, Belinda, Leonora^ 
Griselda, Castle Rackrent, Bden, and all her other 
delightful narratives, were imagined and put \q 
paper. All this, I can easily believe, mi^ht be 
aia(le extremely interesting; but I feel so mvin* 
clble an aversion against speaking in my books 
of living persons who have hospitably received 
me under their roofs, that I shall persist in mj 
old practice, and shall merely invite my readers 
to accompany roe in my walks about Edge- 
worthtown, where they will find much that is 
characteristic of the country and ^''s inhabitants, 
things with which I occupy myself at all times 
more willingly than with mere personalities. 

The Edgeworths have long been resident in 
Ireland, that is to say, they are not absentees^ but 
live on their estate, and look to the comfort and 
welfare of their tenants. There are several no- 
ble and wealthy families in the neighbourhood 
who do the same thing; among others the family 
of the Tuites, and 1 had, in consequence, an op- 
portunity of seeing the wonderful efiect which 
the presence of the owner of an estate has on the 
tenantry, and to how great an extent, therefore, 
the Irish landlords, who take no care for their 
dependents, are themselves responsible for the 
wretchedness of the country. I had not thought 
there could have been in Ireland such solid-look* 
ing farmers as I here beheld on the estates of the 
two families I have mentioned. In the course 
of my excursions round Edgeworthtown, I saw 
many a farmhouse as st^ly as the best of ils 
kind that I had ever seen in England. The 
houses were as clean, aiid the rooms as comfort- 
able, as I could have wished them to be. The 
rooms and staircases were carpeted, and wine 
and refreshments were ofl!ered me. On Mr. 
Tuite's estate I visited a number of farmers, and 
always found their hoases tidy and onderly, with 
sides of bacon suspended- in the pantry, bright' 
pewter dishes ranged upon the kitchen shelves, 
and good furniture and beds in the family rooms, 
just as I should have expected to find them ift 
the houses of the wealthier peasantry in Oes- 
many. 

The Tuite family, I was told, had lived mol 
their estates for 300 years, bad always been res- 
ident, and the present owner was himself a retj 
zealous and Intelligent agriculturist It is btk 
seldom that one sees anything (^ this kind i» 
Ireland, and for that very reason, perhaps, it ex- 
cites the more interest when one does see it, for 
it inspires a belief that, with care and kmdliressL 
it would be possible to elevate the peasantry of 
Ireland, a Ihing which those who might best ef- 
fect the change are usoally least willing to acfs- 
mit, attributing the whole blame to the disord^s- 
ly, dirty, improvidenf, and intemperate habits ^ 



IRELAND. 



Che people: Miss Edgewortfa, in ihe memoirs 
or her lather, gives the descHpticm of an inteUi- 
geat landlord animated by a determination to 
improve the condition of his tenants, and the 
course parsued by him woiiid apply qnite as 
-well to the present day as to the time when it 
"was first adopted. 

It often happens in Ireland that a farm, origi- 
nally sufficient for the cOmibrtable maintenance 
of a man and his family, becomes divided, ailer 
a few generations, into a number of holdings, 
«ach father giving a piece of the land to each or 
ills sons to set him np in the woiid. This sub- 
clivision is one of the many canses of the poverty 
of the eoantry. Every man is anxious to have 
-a bit of land Of his o^n to till, and, laudable as 
^is desire is, it may, if carried too far, as Is the 
case in Ireland, become the ocoasion of many 
evils. An Irish farmer with a largA &mily can- 
not prevail on himself vo show more favour to 
one child than the rest, and always endeavours 
to divide bis farm in equal shares among all his 
children, whatever may be the tenure by which 
^e holds it. The efiect of this ^stem is, that at 
last the land is divided into such small fractions, 
that a man and his family, on th^ir diminutive 
-folding, are always just on the vei^ between 
Existence and starvation. If the farms were pre- 
«erved in their original extent, and the younger 
sons were sent out into the world, the elder sons 
^oüld have more interest in the improvement 
and good cultivation of the land, and the younger 
sons would in the end be the better off, for thiey 
'Would be spurred on to exert their ingenuity and 
industry in some other pursuit. 

The vast extent of most <^ the estates in Ire- 
land offers a melancholy contrast to the minute- 
ness of some of the farms, or rather potato 
•grounds. Had the division of propertr existed 
in the upper elasses also, the small laadlords 
wotitd gradually h^ve approached nearer to the 
-snaall farmers, and the subdivision of estates 
would have aeted as a cheek on the subdivision 
^f farms. As it is, however, there is no country 
in Europe where the actual cultivators of the 
•«Oil have so little property in the land they cnlti- 
t^te as in Ireland. In Russia there are large 
estates, but the holdings of the peasants are taige 
too.' In Ireland there are single estates more ex- 
t^n^ive than German principalities, with farms 
fif such an expression can be applied^ not laiger 
than the bit or ground which an English gentle- 
man -would set aside for his rabbits in a comer 
of his park. In the county of Tipperaiy, out of 
^8400 holdings, there arc 2R0 of less than an acre, 
tmd'i(]66 of more than one, bm less than five 
acres. 

Another pemiciotts custom in IreHmd, is ivhat 
in called lettihg the land in partnership, often to 
iHiole villages, when each member of the part- 
nership becomes personally responsible for the 
-entire rent. This is, unfortunately, still so 
much the case in Ireland, according to the report 
of Mr. Nichols, the Poor Law Commissioner, 
that the common pasture grounds are constantly 
seen crowded witn cattle, and the people are for 
ever disputing with each other as to who has 
Ihe right to drive the greatest number of misera- 
ble-looking beasts upon the common. ' If the 
land thus held in partnership is arable instead of 
pasture, they divide it into a number of small 
.parcels, but thfs partition often leads to Utigation, 
-imti constantly to disputes, each being apprehen- 
-siveiest his neighbohr should have the advantage 
^ ä'few inches over him. 



The system of middlemen is another siganflc 
evil under whioh. agriculture auffers in Ireland. 
Absentee landlords, not to have to oo with a 
laige number of tenants, but to receive their 
money conreniently in laige sums, often let 
large tracts of country to small capitalists, who 
either let the Und out to the actual cultivators 
or to other middlemen. In this way there was 
often between the landlord and his tenant a whole 
row of mid .ie.^n, none of whom had any great 
interest in the land, but whose object it naturaV 
Iv was to squeeze from the poor tiller of the soil 
the greatest possible amount of rent. . The most 
atrocious part of the system was, that if a mid- 
dleman failed, the landlord might come upon the 
tenant for Ms rent, even thoqgh i( had already 
been .paid to the middleman.. The Subletting 
Aet, passed in the reign of George IV., has in- 
terposed a check to the worst evils of this sys- 
tem, but could not be made to apply to contracts 
of an antecedent. date, and there are leases in 
Ireland for terms of an almost indefinite length, 
on whicl^ th» law can operate but slowly., Be- 
sides an evil practice is. not always to be sup- 
pressed immediately by an apt of parliament. , 

Now these arei eyils, the like of which is cer- 
tainly not to be met with elsewhere, in ^jorope, 
.and as little do I believe shall we meet elsewhere 
with implements of agriculture of so rude a kind 
as those employed in Ireland. There are dis- 
tricts where the people, unable to construct ft 
thrashing-floor, thrash their com in the public 
n>ad. Even at the present day, carts may be 
seen with wheels, but without spokes, nay, there 
are even vehicles without wheels, known uud^r 
the. denomination of *' slide cars.'' 

Another, important point is the nature of tlie 
tenute on which land is held. Many Irish farm- 
ers are what is called ''tenants at will," who 
can be turned off their holdings whenever the 
landlord pleases. It is unfortunately but too cei^ 
tain, that in consequence of the O'Connell agib^- 
tion, the tenant at will tenure is very much oa 
the increase. The granting of a lease gives the 
elective franchise N> a tenant, and as the tenant 
havefnostly exercised their political power in a 
spirit of hostilitv towards their landlords, it is 
not surprising that the latter should feel averse 
to the granting of leases. Nevertheless, the ten- 
ure ai will. is a crying evil, and ought to be dis- 
oouiaged by the law. The landlords ought to be 
all but compelled to grant leases to their tenants. 
This is what the Irish fermers wish for, and 
what they demand under the title of '^ fixity qf^ 
tenure," but no one appears to be able to nropose 
any practiaable plan ror the reform of toe sys- 
tem. Nothing can show more clearly than this, 
the immense distance by which the peasantry in 
the^^thcT parts of Europe have got the start, in 
march of improvement, of the peasantry of Ire- 
land. 

In most of the civilized countries of Europe^ 
in France by a revolution, and in Germany by 
wise and well-timed reforms — the nobility have 
been deprived of their feudal power over their ^ 
peasants, and these from serfs and slaves, have 
been converted into small proprietors. Even in 
Russia measures are in progress, the object of 
which is to make the peasants less dependant on 
their lords, and gradually to give them a proper- 
ty in the land they till. In England and Ireland 
alone, people have feared to ask themselves 
whether it would not be wise to give the poor 
oppressed Irish farmers a permanent interest in 
the soil, and to take measures, as has been d^e 



8 



IRELAND. 



in'müfa^a 8ajtäft>, tö^Mve i&%'^ (hr tlie 
MMu^ioti of petm&anebt käse», fbr die redüc- 
^n of ^xöttitant r^ots, and then fii^t to allow, 
Wad afterward to tuike it imf)etailve, t^at the 
tedant shall have it in his power lo convert the 
permanent leaise into, a freehold. No one here 
^^ms to have d^^med of ftf^airiöghow this has 
been done i^ France^ in Cr^rmaiiy, and even in 
the Baltic pipvinees of Ruteia; no one has yet 
l^en bold enough here to rai^ the question, 
wheftber the r^al cultivator of the sojt has not, in 
^nt of fact, a better claim to a nrbperty in it, 
than the noble ö#ner who$e pHviieffes have aU 
most always hhd their origfin in violence and in- 
justice. People here have stich a holy dread of 
touching, eVen in the most reniote way, what 
Ihey call the » fights of property/* that they seem 
incabable of riiismg thetkiselvös to the leve) of 
%e fdes^'thattircumstafices may brise to make 
it i!heh)khest, political wisdbm to ««ntare on Üie 
IhlHh^emejit of those tights. 

The tltl^ by wUich the landed hobiltty of 
Europe liold ih^ir estates and tenants are of in- 
finite variety. In most ca$es they have origi- 
Ääted.in jaossessloÄ fVom time immemorial, indi- 
ridttäls hÄVibg. in i dark age, of which all rec- 
ötä has been ]|6st, established their ascendatiey, 
either bjT conning or violence. In some states, 
however; the depeud^nc« and poverty of the till- 
ers of the soil nas been the consequence of the 
leonäüest of thii country, and its partition among 
the conqiierors. In general the date of this con- 
quest went back to so iismote a period, that the 
hiju^tice which attache to the original title had 
been forgotten, or the estates had passed in the 
course of time into the poteession of n^w Ami- 
lies, who could not, in the most remote degree, 
be held responsible for the original injustice. 
Could th^ law always have come upon the 
original wrbng-doer or his immediate descend- 

e ho one Would have ae^used the state of in- 
ce if it had said to him, ''You hold your 
by an tmjüst title, iso'we shall take it horn 
you and restore; ft to; the poor peasants whose an- 
cftitor^ were ro'bbed by yottrs.^' ProRteia and the 
other states of Germany did more than this. It 
was impossible for them to disttngutsh those 
titles that were of ä vicious origin ^ sotiiev pro- 
ceeded against an alike, fiibd folded them' all to 
abandon priVifegiss injurious to the community 
at large, and to accept a moderate indemnity in 
ezchan^. What we in Germany have done to 
a hobihtv, whose privileges rested on'incom- 
IrairabJy better titles, people in Ireland do not 
venture to thihk of, \Hth respect to a nobility 
folding its 'pnvifcges by the Worst possible titles: 
TU^re is scarcely ^nch a thing to be heard of 
inlrelandas A l{)roprietorof land whose family, 
«owing out of the peoi)le, have heW their land 
from time immemorial. The ancient national 
Irish nobfes isfnd DfiindOwners liave, with very 
few exceptions; been complfetely destroyed. The 
1)est title that an Irish landowner can, in genert 
"al, trace his possession to is violence, but this 
violeiice is almost always of no very ancient 
date, for though in the twelfth century the Eng* 
lish laid claim to all Ireland, in virtue of a gift 
from the pope, it was but a small portion' of the 
country of which they took possession, and till 
the reign of Henry VlII. and aueen Elizabeth, 
what was called "the Pale" never occupiea 
more than a third or fourth of the island. It wak 
by Cromwell that the contqoest of Ireland wap 
first completed, and by William HI. it may be 
said to have been repeated. Each conquest 



Ubtt^ with it ejoensive !90i4$cat|^ sipb i^ 
expoisioil of the ancient Qwne^.iDf il^e If^nd^ sa- 
much 80 thai ait peeB<mt «ine tenMis of the whole^ 
Irish soil are held by fiimilies of &igiish desert, 
and tiearly every large laodlKolder can still teU 
when his ancestors first became possessed of the 
estate. I have isaid that the best title an Irish 
landholder can in general show is violence-* 
meaning conouest; but, in many cases estates 
were obtained by the. ancestors; of th^ preiseht 
possessors by treachery and fraud , For i lonjg 
time ehe law was that a son might dispossess hia 
father, or a younger hi«, elder lurpther, by em- 
bracing Protestanii(wii, and. there are niany, vejy 
maiMr Irish landownem, whose possessions oaa 
be shown to have originated m «the äpplicktioä 
of this atrocious law. In presence of spch titles^ 
what wise! governmenit ought; to hesitate to inr^ 
ter£erie*r4iot indeed with revoiutipiiaiynAeasiiiet 
calculated to throw, everything into oonrasioii^. 
but to enact such salutary reforms as woa)d en- 
able tbe poor l;enants at will aD4 lfasehpl4efi 
graddallv to convert, their tenure into a jreehol4 
so that the milliona might npt continue for ever 
to waste ft way for the profit of. a lew, oligarch«) 

In my excursions to the farmers of Suima, t . 
met with an old woman who spoke Mah apid 
very little Englfsh. In her youth, s$e said, 
meaning fiAy ^ears a«p, few people here^.in the^ 
centre of Ireland,. «poke or understood. anything'^ 
but Irish ; but.mnAy of them had since forcotteo 
it, and to the children notiung but English was 
ta nght. There are few, she added, that cai^ evea 
bless themselves in Uish.noiv I 3he told ooe tJ^ 
auciem Irish name for Edgeworthtown, but I 
have forgotten it. 

It is strange that throughout Ireland, ev^ ii^ 
those parts that have longest been Anglicized or 
Saxonized, the original names have been retain- 
ed for the. pdliticai divisions of ^^e country. 
Thn» in the vicinity of ^^wprthtoiifn f met 
with, the townships, of Camliskbey, Ag^donäg]^, 
BaUinloughtagh,. names thtat mfi^ have hä4 ^ 
odd sound to ^Lon ears. ,$te vera) pf th^s^ towiv- 
fihip are sometimes united tq form 4 papsk^ 
and by a union of several parishes a barony lis 
constituted. jSome of these baronies nfive Eiig- 
lish names, bqt in ,tbe west.tl^ey are Iri^ vi^ith- 
out an exception. Six or eiight baroniea. niälce 
a conmy. .Of the counües many b^ve;£i|gli^s)i 
names, as Waterford, Longford, Down, '^t^ee^'a 
County and King's Coonty ; others ag^ip Jiave 
retained genuiiie Irish denominations^ as Mpn- 
ajghaii, Fermandgh, X)0negal,dcc, Seyeri^l ^p^- 
tite together form a province, of Which there are 
four. , 

The gentry and nobility in tfasi» mrt pf Ireliand 
understand nothing of Irish; ina^ there. are 
but, tew districts in the. country where, the la^- 
owners ai« able to converse with theijr peasaxita 
in the native dtalecjL : In the neighbpurlioq4 ot 
Gaiway, a thoroughly Irish city, even ihtgmtry 
are said to understand Irish, and there the jpnqsta 
are obliged to preach in that language, ' Tigere, 
too, the best insh scholars aj^'met wi^, among 
whom Dr. M^Hale, the Archbishop of Tnam, 
and his Vicar^General, Dr. Loftus, are. pa^rticu- 
larly distinguished. The former is engaged ia 
the publioatioft <3i an Irish version of tpe Iliad, 
and lately^ published a translation of Thomas 
Moore's poems. 

Lange parties of Irish labourers passed thnmgk 
Edgeworthtown during my stay there, aiid exci- 
ted my compassion by their miclancholy appe^^ 
ance. I had seen several swarms of them o» 



IRELAND. 



tbe nmd tt<m 0ul)lin, «nd all ö^ dient compUnn; 
ed of Having made so Iktle tnoney in* England 
this tiine. EVer^ yearnofiibers of ihede laboa^* 
era warider away from the westfara parts of Ire- 
land« pai'tiöalariy from Connaa^fat, to assist the 
Engitsh farmers in getting in the harvest. 1( 
hiLppebed, however, that this year so many men 
trere oat of employment in England, that la- 
bourers cjonld be had in abundance at low wa-f 
ges, and the poor Irish, in consequence, had had 
a bad time of it ; ragged and hungry they hiad 

■ gone ov«r to Engtand; and even so they retam-; 
ed,' having söär^ely earned enoa&^h to defiray the 
eost of thte jönmty. These periodical migra- 
tions of Irish' Ittbonrors occur as regularly as 

' the movements of so many birds of passage; 
Wages in England, on att ivemge^ are twice as 
high as in Ireland, and the Irish harvesters, ab- 
cosuMted to the )clielip«5t food, are generally 
able ro teing baick the greater part of what they 
«am. Th« men have usually a bit of gtouod in 
DooKigal, Clane, Mayo, Gonn^maiti, or sorae-i 
where ansong the* b^ and mountains of the 
-wttst,' and as soon, as äiey have put their own 

'fields in older they start fdr one of the eastdm 
ports -^Dublin, Belfftst, Dundalk, &c.'^ and 
cross övfer to Englahd,» leaving their families hi 
liome. Their' little^ harvtst is ollea attended id 
by their 'wiv^BB, or,' as among the mountains of 
Connaught the harvest is generally later than id 
Edglaiid, the men lare often at borne again quite 
in tithe to attiend to th^ gättingin of their own 
ptoduce. During harvest time in England and 
Sebfiand the sfervicesofiliese Irish labourers are 
of ^^t impovtanee, aild sometimes it -Would be 
diflumlt, without thbir aid, to get the ^harvest in 
at all. < Tbe V generally return evfeiy year to the 
same part of the counirv^ and work for the same 
farmers who empix^ei tbem at 'the preceding 

.'harviest;' thus it oi^&a^ hvp^ens thar a district in 
England .^ili have its com eut and gathered in 
e^efy year bv labdureav Hfom somei particular 
dktrict in Iraand. 

To seepobr Paddy trfth a niefhl countenance 
is themoremotiiigi as'it so seldom happens to 
ii»m fid tairy a look bf oare alkiut with himj 
but this year- glbbm' was fixed on almost every 
iaee that retuittM fvom Eng^a^. Some even 
complained, that of the little they had earned 
they had been rotrtsed by^he rioters in the Eng- 
lish manufaeturäw'distribts. The poor fellows 
thought xti their families at' home, -who were 
«ountmg oik the' l^rvesr penlhy that was to jay 
the rent, and supply- a feW^p^essing «^ahts. For- 
tunately the« potato-harvifest was a productive 
one, but how tney^ were to teht'tt but during the 
wifiter with ithe' landlord and the driver, Heaven 

' only knew. I have seen Bri giiitiöns of harvest- 
tkff somewimt similar; in many parts of Europe, 
but nowhere did they prodbce so mdanichaly an 

' impression upon hie 'as in Ireland ; beither the 
North. <9ermans, wandering away to the rich 
marshes of HDliaBd ; nor tbe poor Croats^ Bo^ 
hemians, and mountaineers, ilrom Hungary, Bo* 
hernia, and Stvriavön their Way to the fertile low* 
lands of the Danube ) nor the ^ wiss descending 
from th!eir Alps ibto the teeming plains of L<toi* 
hatdy ; nor the mowers that s^rm yearlyfirom 
'the central -part of Hbssia, into die thihly-peo- 
pl^d steppes of the southern provinces. 
Mountains and valleys, roeks, 'ravines, land 

' Tpflalbsvuay, «omciimes even tbe caverns, are all 
cövfefed With bog in tretend, yk^here «uUiväHoii 
dea'ses, tbe'bog begjuR, and the wholq isfönd mäf ; 
be said to be a bog with occasional interrupiions. 



There 'Are parts of Germany» Fftmee, and- t&e 
Netueriands, which also seem to have a deckled 
tendency to the formation of bog, but nowhere 
else is ttiis so much the case as in Ireland. Our 
Uarz Mountains hatre some beg it is true, but 
in Ireland the rery summits ol' such meuntAins- 
are covered with beg, and wherever cultivation 
recedes, the bog resumes possession of the aban- 
doned ground. The humidity of the climate, I 
suppose, is the chief though not the only cau^e ot 
ibis phenomenon. The decayed vegetable mat- 
ter, which in other countries dries and resolves 
itself into dUst, leavies here a considerable re- 
siduum^ which Is augmented in the Ibllowiug 
year By the new residua of decayed plants, and 
a rapid accumulation thus takes place, a quan- 
tity of moisture being iield in absorption, till 
gradually Immense compact masses are formed. 
A young bog, one that is yet but in its intancf „ 
is called a *^quAkifig bog;" but in timcj' whea 
the mass becomes more compaotj and assumea 
a black colour^ it isknovm as a turf-hog, er 
p^at-bOg. The vegetables, whose residua go to- 
the formation of these bogs, are of course ä inh 
fieite vanHy, The mosses, as ihey decay, f(»m 
a Joose« spongy mass, often so tough that the* 
turf-ep^de will not pierce it, and it thai goes by 
the name of " old wife's tow." Sometimes the 
bog is formed almost whollv of mosses, sbme- 
timles of mctases mixed with the remains of other 
plants. Hence arise two principal desorfpttonS' 
of morasses in Ireland, the red or dry bogs, and 
the green or wet bogs. The former yields a 
light; spongy turf that quickly bums awaty, the 
latter a hieavy, black Jjtrf. Some of the greea 
bogSy however, are so wet, that no turf can ^e 
obtained from them at all ^ 

The Irish bogs are at onee a source of wealth, 
and a cause of poverty to Ireland. They yield 
iiiiel to the pooc, but at the saote lauie cover 
much feitile laid, which they withhold from 
eumvation, and they spoil the water of the riv- 
ers^ fill the: aCmosphere everywhere with a turfy 
smell, and infect the air with unwholesome ex* 
halations ; tl^ey are often a great hiaderlmee to 
internal contmunicetlon^ and have long served 
as place» of refuge tt) the th ieves and outla ws ef 
Ireland, who, iieeoiding to Bbate, coukl notejt- 
ist without the bogs. The object of the Inatk 
ought to be to subject to a wise ^stem of eee«- 
omy those bogs that yield good fuel, and to have 
all the others drained und brought under cultiva- 
tion. Hitheno the Irish have ddne neither of 
these two things; they have not ecouomited 
their turf, and they have not drained the unpro- 
ductive bogs,becanse these wefe for a longtim» 
tooked upou a» the most effisctuhl natural pro- 
tection agdihst the English. The Stilish, in- 
deed, *< the introducers of all that is good imo 
Ireland," as Bbate calls them, {he might witb 
equal justice have Called them 'the authors ef 
much evil there), hate for c^hCttriefl laboured at 
\&e draining of these b<^, and lately again -a 
eompady has been formed for the reclaiming of 
Itish bogs, but, compared tcrthe quantity of bbgs 
that exists, little or nothittg has- hitherto been 
done, and even at the present day the traveller 
in Ireland seldom «finds himself on any point i 
whence he may not see bog within his hbrizoi^. 

It Would seem that there was a time when, if 
not the entire island, at-lea$t portions of it, most 
have been better cultivated, and less covered 
with morasses than at present, forthefe^anHane 
tracts of bog, tmder .which the soil -shows the 
most distinct traces of former cultivation by the 



10 



IRELAND. 



plough. Nay, some Irish historians point to 
•certain districts^ which, alter having been laid 
wallte bv this or that fingiish general or chief, 
rapidly became convened into a morass. 

While 1 was at Edgeworthtown, 1 lieard the 
people talk a great deal of the Centre of Ireland, 
-and a farmer one day accompanied me to an arti- 
ücial monnd, which the people looked apon as 
4he said central point. This mound is called 
the Moate of Lisserdowling. We were, no 
4uabt, very near the centre, bat the hill in ques- 
tion, it is equally certain, was not that centre, 
the precise locality of which it would be diffi- 
cult to determine. The Moate of Lisser^owling 
38 a round conical bill, about forty feet high, and 
•about five hundred feet in circumference. It 
^stands on a plain, and is surrounded by cornfields, 
and being planted with trees and whiie*thom 
bushes, presents a stately object on the naked 
rievel. On the summit the moate was flat, with 
an indentation in the middle, leaving a few 
stones bare, that seemed to form apart of some 
•masonry concealed under the turf, by which the 
■whole of the artificial hill was covered. The 
popular tradition, I was told, assigned the moate 
•4W a dwelling-place to an ancient Irish chief of 
Ahe name of Naghten O'Dunnell, and a small 
i)y-road in the neighbourhood is still called ailer 
him, «Naghien*s Lane." The hill stands in 
iigh iiepute throughout the country, and is a fa- 

• Tourite resort on fine afternoons, when hundreds 

• may be seen sitting and lying on its sides ; but 
-aot one of these visiters remains after dark, 

when the Moate of Lisserdowiing, and the lane 
leading to it, are abandoned to the fairies, or 
'''good people," as they are called in Ireland. 
Nor will any one touch a stone or stick on the 
hiU, *' unless they have had a dream," as my 
.farmer expressed himself, "and have had a com- 
mission from the good people." I observed on 
the side of the mount the stump of an old thorn- 
- bush. My guide informed me that the bush it- 
-«elf had been blown down one windy night, 
»any vears ago, and had been left to rot on tbd 
-ground where it fell, no one daring to touch it, 
'4hough in general the poor people are ready 
enough to appropriate to themselves anything 
^^umaHe that they may find by the wayside. 
Young trees they will steal with very little re- 
morse, but wood growing on one of these fairy 
mounts is almost always secure from their dep- 
redations. 

On the following day I visited a similar hfil, 
the Moate-o^Ward, which was hkewise covcr- 
'«d / with white thorns, and in the sequel I met 
with great numbers of these artificial hillocks, 
•^f which Ireland contains many more than either 
England or Scotland. The people call them 
«Boats, a word used in English to designate the 
4ditch of a fortress. In Irteh they are called 
'^* raths," a word bearing precisely the same sig- 
nification. They, are also sometimes called 
*' Danes' Mounts," for in Ireland, as every art of 
^destruction is charitably set down to Cromwell's 
account, so every erection of a remote date is at- 
-^ributed to the Danes. The popular belief is 
unanimous, therefore, in giving the Danes the 
«redit of having erected these tumuli, as fortress- 
«s whence they might hold the country in sub- 
jection, and when the Danes had been expelled, 
an Irish chief here and there chose the deserted 
fastness forhis dwelling place. The learned are 
not quite 50 unanimous ii^ their views as to the 
-origin of these erections. Some go with the 
-«tream, and set them down to Danish account ; 



others believe the hillocks to be of a much more 
aniiient date, and to have formed the strongholds 
of the ancient native kings. In the north of Ire- 
land is a mound of enormous size, said to have 
been the seat of the Kings of Ulster. Probably 
this eafthy architecture, which appears to have 
been so widely diHustd over Ireland, was the 
work of different ages, of various races, dnd had 
more objects than one in view. Nearly all the 
nations of Europe, in the infancy of their civili- 
zation, seem to have delighied in the erection of 
these artificial hills. The whole of »oothem 
Russia is full of them, and we meet with them 
in Hungary, Turkey, Scandinavia, and Den- 
mark, as well as in England and Ireland, but 
nowhere in such numbers as in Ireland, whence 
we may conclude that the ancient Irish most 
have built many of their raths long- before the 
Danes arrived among them. 

It is also probable that they were erected with 
difierent objects in view. Some, we know, were 
intended as boundary marks, and some we know 
were raised over the remains of distingnisked 
heroes and chiets. From some it. was customa- 
ry for the lawgivers and judges to announce 
their decisions to the assembled multitude, and 
on others kings were anointed and crowned. The 
Druids required sacred hills to ofier their sacri- 
fices on, and where a natural hill was not to be 
had, an artificial one, no doubt, was often form- 
ed. Others again may have been intended as 
fortresses on which the people might seek refuge 
from an enemy. Many, no doubt, remain that 
are quite enigmatical. Several, when opened, 
are found to contain passages and cells, of which 
it is diificult to guess what use they were intend- 
ed ft>r. They are too small for storehouses, and 
can scarcely have served as tombs, or bones and 
other remams wouki have been tbund there. 

Lisserdowiing, a high pyramid surrounded by 
a low rampart and ditch, is more likely, in my 
opinion, to have been erected as a religious mon- 
ument than as a fortress. Had it been intended 
for a fortress, why should so much labour have 
been expended in givii^ it a conical form, and 
why not have bestowed mora pains on the cir- 
cum vallalion t As a fortress it wouki have been 
the strangest and most ineligible that could have 
been built. The space on the summit would 
scarcely afford room for two huts, and when the 
rampart bad once been stormed by .the enemy, 
the defenders would have been at the greatest 
disadvantage on the sides of the cone. jProba- 
bly the circumvallationhas led to the belie/ that 
this, and many other tumuli, were intended 4br 
fortresses, but Stonehenge, which nobody..eFer 
took to be avfortress, is also surrounded by ram- 
part and ditch. The circumvallation may hare 
been intended simply to mark the boundary of 
the holy place,^ and to cut off all connexion with 
the profane part of the n^orld. 

Enough, however, of the Danes' mounts, and 
now let me proceed to notice a few memoranda 
which I find set down in my journal during my 
stay in Edgeworthtown. 

In the little Protestant church at Edgeworth- 
town I found a wooden gallery, which, as I learn- 
ed from an inscription, had been erected sixty 
years previously, by a vicar of the parish, for the 
exclusive use of the public at large. The small 
space on the' floor or the church was occupied 
wholly by the pews of the weahhier part or the 
congregation, so that the poor, who could not 
afford to pay pew-rent, were all but excluded 
from the place aC woiahip, as is generally the 



IRELAND. 



11 



ease in the Protestant churches of England. The 
pews are a source of revenae to the chaich, and 
this has caused ibem 4o encroach so mäch upon 
ifhe :»pace intended for the congregation, that no 
foom at all remains in the end for the poor. 
Well-meaning clergymen have ofteti- struggled 
«gainst this abuse of the pews ; ^d some, like 
the worthy pastor of Edgewprthtown, when they 
could not bring the paHsh to provide accommo- 
dation for the poor, have done so at their own 
expense. The vicar in question, it is said, had 
ihe greatest difficulty In obtaining a vestry act to 
enable him |o carry his benevolent views into 
«operation. Of late the Puseyites have commen- 
•ced a spirited opposition against the monopoli- 
sing sy6tem of pews, and in this, at least, it is to 
be hoped, they will succeed. 

There are 800 Catholics in Edgeworthtown, 
and 300 Protestants, but the latter do not increase 
in number it^ an equtol ratio with the former. 
The Catholics have become wealthier and more 
powerful since their emancipation, as well as 
more numerous, and this remark wiU apply to 
liearly all Ireland. I was also told that the Cath- 
<rfic8 endeavour at present to induce young men 
of better femilies than was formerly the case, to 
devote (hemselves to the church. 

I visited the schools in the place. They were 
well conducted, because the gentry did not neg- 
lect ihera. 1 saw nothing very remarkable there, 
except that in the arithmetic lesson, the teacher 
joade «rse of the Cbinese-Mongolian-Russian 
.reckoning board. He told me the board had 
*een iniroduced into the popular schools of Ire- 
land two years previously, and had been found to 
answer extremely well. He was aware the in- 
strurnent was of Chinese or Russian origin, 
and, believed to have heard, that it had teen 
adopted on the recommendation of a Russian 
nobleman who had travelled in Ireland. I was 
not atxle to ascertain whether this was really the 
case. Perhaps the English obtained it directly 
from China. The Chinese were, unquestion- 
ably, the first inventors of this useful instrument, 
which, i am only surprised, has not long ago 
been adopted in cveiy country in Europe. 

Some strange stones of murders were told me 
by the farmers of the vicinity. An Irishman 
had, some years previously, by one of the many 
secret societies that have existed in Ireland, been 
engaged to murder a certain individual. The 
man was on his road in search of bis victim, 
and, being overtaken by a storm, was met by a 
gentleman, who took him to his country-house, 
and ordered dry clothes and refreshments to be 
^' ven to him. On inquiring the name of his be- 
nevolent host, the man found that he was in the 
house of the very being he had undertaken to 
murder. He was returning without having ex- 
ecuted his task, when he met one of his secret 
associates, to whom he told what had happened, 
declaring that it was now quite impossible for 
him to destroy one who had been so kind to him. 
The associate, who bad received a similar com- 
mission, proposed that they should change their 
two victims. The scrupulous assassin eagerly 
accepted a proposal which, he thought, relieved 
his conscience from the crime of ingratitude. 
The arrangement was made, and each slew his 
manl * 

I was astonished at the slowness with which 
corn ripens in Ireland. They sow their winter 
xorn there in November, and their summer corn 
In February, yet it is not till the middle of Sep- 



wheat harvest. Their oCtts are still later. Rye 
is a descripiieii of com they ne^er' think dl 
When the summer hajn been wet and cold, the 
wheat is not got in till the middle of October, nor 
pats till November. In the south of Qermany» 
on the Rhine, rye is generally housed about the 
2!3d of July, and wheat, barley, and oats follow 
at short intetvals. In Courland and Lithuaniai 
countries that lie nearly under the same latitude 
as Ireland, the harvest is gienerally got in about 
the end of July or the beginning of August, tholigh 
the summer com is sown only in April, till which 
month the giound retains itc» wintry covering of 
snow. 

While I was in the vicinity of Edgeworth- 
town, a little fair was held there, and afforded 
m«^ an opportunity of observing the manners of 
the Irish matket-peuple in the disposal of theiz 
wares. Some of them — those who deal in fruit, 
and various kinds of eatables— did as they would 
have done in most countries, that is to say, they 
sat by the;$ide of their wares, and waited till cus- 
tomers presented themselves ,• but tboee who dealt 
in knives, scissors, and an endless variety of 
small articles, were more noisy and numnteiank- 
isk than I had ever before seen them out of Great 
Britain. Some of them had arranged their goods 
on a moveable booth that went upon wheels. 
One side of this iravellfng repository formed a 
kind of stage on which the merchant made his 
appearance, and presented various article^to the 
public, tu whom, in the style of an Italian vend- 
or of medicines, ne recommended his goods with 
surprising volubility, accompanied by jokes that 
were not always without wit. He would name 
the price of an article. The spectators laughed, 
and offered hita. perhaps a few pence. Others 
offered perhaps a trifle more, and so went on, till 
the merchant was satisfied, or till, despairing of 
an acceptable offer, be put the article by and pro- 
duced another. SKnilar scenes are ccmstandy 
seen at the English fiurs likewise, and even ia 
London there are shops in which perpetual auc- 
tions are going on, a crowd of spectators being 
kept all day long around the place, which may- 
be considered half in the light of a shop, and half 
In that of a, playhouse. 1 saw no gipsies at the 
fair, and was assured there were none in Ireland. 
In all the books on Ireland that have come into 
my hands, I have in vain sought a confirmation 
of this assertion, vet books ought to tell us what 
we must not look for in a country as well as 
what we may expect to see there. It would he 
strange if the gipsy race, which has found its 
way into every country of Europe, had avoided 
Ireland, and ^et several Irishmen have assured 
me the fact is so; and as Ireland boasts of so 
many peculiarities, has neither toads nor snakes, 
nor many other animals that are niet with ev- 
erywhere else, one is disposed d priori to believe 
the assertion. It may be that parties of gipsies 
crossed over to Ireland at times, bnx finding there 
a race almost as barbarous and wretched as 
themselves, they returned and did not multiply 
in the land. The Romans also never went over 
into Ireland, even when they held possession of 
almost eveiT other country in the known world. 
Another fact almost equally remarkable, is 
the total absence of Jews from Ireland. At least, 
there does not now exist a Jewish synagogue ia 
the whole island; not ^even in Dublin, a city of 
270,000 inhabitants. Some Jews, it is true, came 
over- with Cromwell, and in 1746 there were 
forty families of that nation in Dublin, where 



iember that they can think of getting in their I they had a synagogue and a cemetery; hat ia 



13 .» r ^^^^ 

itel te iirde oomatoiiiljr had dwindled down td 
-nine indirklaate. ■ in* tnis reKpect, Ireland SB^ 
DnbUn certainly stand alone in Knrope. In 
England amd Scotland täere' ate Jews and gip^ 
sies in all difections. 

P^OM ED^EWORTH^OlVTf TO THE 
SHANNON. , 

It was not Without • a feeliDg of melancholy 
^t I took leave of my kind frieods of Edge- 
Worthtown, when about to visU the glorious 
Shannon y the great main artery of the island. 

The usual wf^y of travelling in those parts of 
Ireland where there are no /sui^coaches, is bv 
the aid of a jauntingrcar. Thi» is a two- wheel- 
ed vehicle with one horse, with a seat for two 
persons on eaoh side. In the ceotre between 
the seats is a cavity called a well, in which the 
traveller's luggage is deposited. The shaft is 
fastened, not to the axletree^ hat to the body of 
the carri^pe,and the passeng^^ in consequence, 
is obliged to accompany ^e horse in every 
motemeot he makes, just äs if the whole con- 
cern were fastened to his back. When the horse 
gallops, the comically violent motion that en- 
sues, affords much fun to some, 9nd makes oth- 
ers .8ea-«ick. The machine is, of coarse, un- 
covered, and as it generally rains in Ireland^ few 
travellers neglect to pack themselves and their 
goods up in some waterproof tissue or other. 
The price charged for sues a ear is sixpence for 
•aU: English mile, just half what is paid in Eng- 
land for a one-horse conv^hooe. 

These ears are very much to be recommended 
to a traveller who wishes to see something of 
the country he is passing thii'oogh. He is not 
bound to any parUcnlar Une of i^oad, And may 
travel whither he Will, so he pay but his six- 
pence a mile; and then, as his feet are never 
far from the ground, he can step on and off at all 
times wiih veiy tittle trouble^ aiid n^d pass no- 
thing nnexamined by the. Roadside. , TheUi in his 
-driver he has always a talkative Paddy, who, 
dqiy to balance the vessel committed to his pi- 
lotage^ rarely sits on his ^ box, but rather on the 
opposite seat, äos-dnios with fiis passenger, ready 
io ;give him the bei^fit of his ej^rience^ and 
«how hiiqqi "a bit of the country." ^ tiav^g him- 
self an abundant stock of curiosity, he is ready 
to sympathize with ^rposlty «nd desire of infox- 
mation in anptjier. He stppe when nis passen- 
.ger wishes it, driv^ slower Of his own accord 
'wixen he sees him taking notes, not ibrgetting, 
when he thinks he has said something witty or 
^eyer^ to add, '^and won't your honour please 
to put down that too V 

On one of the mpny beautiful and sunny days 
vouchsafed even unto Ireland; by the autumn of 
1942, Trolled away with an equipage suc^ as I 
have«described, towards the banks of the Shan- 
non, inten4ing afterward to avail myself of the 
cervices of the river itself to continue my jour- 
ney toward the south-Wjßstern districts of the isl- 
and. In the central part of Ireland, till you ar- 
Hve at the Shannon, there are few natural beau- 
ides to admire. The land is levels and the atten- 
tion of the traveller is naturally more directed to 
man and his works; neither, l grieve to say, is 
calculated to awaken much pleasure in the con- 
templation, for the former is mostly in rags, and 
the latter in ruins. From a welVordered coun- 
tiy ruins ought to have a natural tendency to 
disappear, but of all countries in the world, Ire- 
land IS Che country for ruiüs. Here you have 



ANt). 

ruins of everjr jieriod of history, from the time» 
of the Phoenicians down to the present day. 
There are ruins that are supposed to date from 
the arrival of the fire- worshippers of the East^ 
others whiol} nasefor remains of Druidical tem- 
ples, or of the palaces of the ancient Celtic 
kings. Fragments may be seen of the ehurcbts 
built when Christiataity was first introduced into 
the country; the domination of the Danes en- 
riched the land with another nch course of roins^ 
and down to our own times each century hm» 
marked its progress by the ruins it haa left. Nay,. 
every decade, one might almost say, h^s set ito 
sign upon Ireland, for in all directions you see a 
nun^ber elf dilapidated buildings, ruins of yesli^v- 
day's erection. 

Aloug mv road I: passed through no. town ii^ 
which f (ud not behold houses of very feeent 
construction lulling into ruins. In some places 
I even saw ten or twelve such houses standing 
side by side. With the ruins of old castles and 
churches^ some sad poetical tradition of war and 
violence is usually associated ; these more mod- 
ern ruins are connected with the yet sadder siocy 
of injustice committed in the time of peace. The 
cruel expulsion of a tenant by his landlord, or 
the emigration of the poor occupiers, or the want- 
of means to effect the necessary repairs, these 
are generally the causes assigned. Generally^ 
indeed) the people are not very communicative 
when you inquire into the matt«*. "Ah, sir^ 
it's a s^d story, and we'd better say nothing 
about it," is onen the only answer you can get. 

The painter has least reason to complain, for 
as all descriptions of creeping plants are very 
abundant in Ireland,' Irish ri^ias geuerallj wear 
a very picturesque look. The beautiful ivy 
hangs its drapery round them all, wild roses, 
yews, and similar plants- nestle everywhere 
among the broken masonry-, and often have I 
seen the most wretched huts enveloped in a rich . 
full robe o^ivy, worthy to luxuriate around the 
tottering keep of what was once a royal castle. 
Many a hut I believe is made habitable only by 
the ivy that embrabes and upholds it 

The r^ of Ireland are quite as remarkable 
a phenomenon as the ruins. As an Irishman 
seems to live ill a house as long as it remains 
habitable, and then abandons it to its fate sro he 
drags the same suit of clothes about with him as 
long as the threads will hold together. In other 
countries there are poor people enou]g:h, who can 
but seldom ej^change their old habiliments for 
ncw< but then they endeavour* to keep their ^ait- 
ments, old as they are, in a wearable condition. 
The poor Russian peasant, compelled to do so 
by his climate, sews patch upon patch to his 
sheepskin jacket^ and even the poorest will not 
allow bis nakedness to peer through the apet- 
tu«es of his vestmen^ as is frequently seen in 
Ireland amone those who are far above the class 
of beggars. In no country is it held disgraceful 
to wear a coat of a coarse texture, but to go 
about in rags is nowhere allowed but in Ireland^ 
except to those whom the extreme of misery has 
plunged so deeply into despair, that they lose all 
thought of decorum. In Ireland no one appeal» 
to feel offended or surprised at the sight or a na- 
ked elbow or A bare leg. 

There is something quite peculiar in Irish 
rags. So thoroughly worn away, so completely 
reduced to dust upon a human body, no i^gs are - 
elsewhere to be seen. At the elbows and at äfl 
the other comers of the body the clothes hati|j 
like the drooping petals of a- faded rose; the 



IRELAND. 



13 



edges of the coat are formed into a sort of fringe, 
/ilid.Qden it is qpUe impossible.tD .cHs^legäisfi 
ii«r tosiite ftom?tbe . outside /of . a . oeat, or the 
«l«ese& from the body. The leg9 a^id arm^ aiq 
«t last.Qoable lofiod their aocastomed way in 
^iiad ottt, so that jtbe drapery is every morning 
tli8po$ed.a&er.a Dewfastion, and it might ap^ 
peav. a «render how so many varied fragments 
«J» belditogeüier by their various threads, were 
ilAOt pei^tly a, matter ofindiflference whether 
the coat be made to senre for breeches, or thö 
bfeeohes.ifor coat. 

What in. the eysa of a Strang^ gives so loili- 
quonds an. effect, to the rags of an Irish peasant, is 
Üiecircumsiaiice thai his natjoiu^ oostiltqe is 
«lit aAer. the. fashion oC our ig^la dness, of' the 
'COAtSiWomamong^iis at halls ahdoa state ooca^ 
^ioQfs. ThC' huroläec classes with us wear either 
staiighi.Xrock. coats, or, when at work, short 
»«üHodojaekets« It fielgicim, Fsanee^ and some- 
mother eduntrica, :the wprking. men. have a.iwry 

^snilable costume in. their Mmm, and. a vevy sim- 
ilar gavment. the.smoc); fivx^k, is.wovn in most 
oCthenual districts of .Englaad. Faddy, op the 
«ithär haii<J, seems, to have thought the Mouse, or 
tins. shoit. jacket, not «fe^ont^enounh for him, so 
:he> has. säected for his natiobai costume the 
^Moich. company. dress. cofit^ with its high use- 
less collar, its swallow tail bangiig down behind, 
4iiid4he bneast-Open in front. With this coathe 
wears ;sh^i knee, breeches,. with stockings and 
shoes, so that, as fiir as the cut -of his clothes is 
eooeenied, he, appears always- in foil dress,' like 
^ral^ genUtman. Now it is impossible tbkt a 
'voelfing maaeoold select, a costume moreim- 
saiiahle to him, or.more äl)surd to look upon. 
il affords noprotectionasaiiist'tbe weather, and 
is a constant hinderaDce to him in, his work, y^ 
it iSi generally prevalent tbiougbout the island, 
ll is'saiditbat a mass of old di^is coats are. con- 
stantly impoi:ted ifrom £nglttad, where the work- 
ing <9fct8scs. ne>ver wear them« If eo, f h« lowness 
<)fit;he*pnce at which they are.soid may have ih«' 
4uced) the .Irish »peasants to purere these cast- 

I p^TihahiiimeDts^ andj la^ingr. asi^i^ <th«it original 
-costume, «wbioh cannoiiMi» lia>ve«beea more suit- 
4ihle, to. Blount the'd«Äg;bitt in a eoarse and tat» 
t^ed. Fteaeh ball costume. The fuct, howjiever, 
is, that« mostof these. coats avt ^öt-iitiported, but 
arema^ in the. country, cifaeoarse gray rloth> 
eaUed'^'friese," from wMehthe eoais themselves 
•derive« the naoseof ^'friezccoats^^f 

It iR.only on »Sundays, and) among the wealth^ 
ier pea>iants, that 4he fHese coa»^ is seen In- its 
ooflspleteform, withifo»r. buttons behind and six 
infroat On woricing^ays, a«it oniif tb» buttons 
«le waiating, . but the whole gear KSo)vies< itself 
into thätilodeseribaUe condilton<3ff whiehtlhave 
eBdea?4>aredito eomtÄuüieate «»ne piotiott^ Qift- 
eii»the «nei he^lf of the .swallow tpiV'is|goiie, a^ 

V th8.otheJp>h»lir may ^biB^fiMp dvoopinf i» uridowed 
sorrow over its departed companion, nrhom it is 
.eidlleatly piepafea 'to^oHfoiw^ on no Very distant 
.day^ It seems never ^to öceHT' to the <owfieiv 
when., one of (these neglected iaps hangs sus- 
pended only by a few «toyeads^ ttiafhyf adooen 
stitches would 'rea^w- its Ksonae^r ion. wishthe pat- 
ient coat, or tbat^one boldicut« would at a)1 events 
pot it out orits.liogeribgmiseiry, Kie, moraiM 
after morning, hedrawson'the saknecoat^ with 
the-tail droopiagin the same pity-ihspb^ngeon.^ 
dition, till the doomed/fnigroditrdiiepe atl«it 6f> 
its o^wn accord, and is left lying oa the spot > 
where it fell; fjßbis tail is gebtsrally the mt 
part that is lost of the eoat. Is it not strange. 



that a hint so often given to him should still be 
thrawä 'away, oh the irieh. peasant, a|id))iEat he 
sbouldnotiong ere this l^qve thought of exchan- 
ging >his coat, for a. jacket > If-he did this, he 
wotthi not.8o.<^D, while home blush of novelty 
is leA upon bis coat,}^ obliged to tuck up bis 
tail while at work^ or to tie it round his body 
with packthread. 

The head gear harmoniaoes with tbe ball-room 
, suit Baddy scorns to wear a waterproof cap^ 
but in its place be doas a strange caricature ofa 
beaver or silk bat, that jnany a time and oft^ 
bow often Heaven s lone knows— has been redu- 
ced to a complete state of solution by the raia^ 
and then been allowed to dry again into some, 
new and unimaginedshape. How millions of 
working men* can have endured Ihr so many 
iyears to wear so inconvenient and absurd a 
jhead4ress, is quite iaconeeirable to me, and ut- 
iterly irreconeUable to that sound common sense 
Iby which' the masses ave Muerally cbavaicterized; 
jPaddy, it must, be owned, niaehes and flattens 
and twists the uncomfortable appendage into a 
pQishifin of his own. He pushes up the brim 
iaway from his face In ffoat, while behind it soon 
Ihangs in fbstoon fashion; The crown in time 
falls in, but hmiig deemed an important part of 
the concern,, is kept in i|s place Ibr some time 
^onger by the aid of packthiead^ The crown 
goes, however, at lasty and the .hat, one wqold 
jthcn suppose, would be «leemed useless; no such 
jthing; tne owner will continue to wear it, for a 
jyear ortwo afterwards, by way ^ornament. 

It is impossible lor a stranger to see a peaKant 
JELt bis work, thus acebutred like a decayed dan« 
jcii^^master, and not be tempted to laugh at so 
iwwmsieal an apparition : I say whimsitia}, for 
pa<his deepest misery Pnddy hasalwa3rs so much 
about him thatds w^msical, that you can search' 
ly help laughing. even while.y bur h^it is bleed- 
Sng.fof him. 

d»oth^ ofiers so striking a contrast to «h^ 
pnei^r, ragtted wvetcheähe£ of the Iri^h peas- 
pat than the creatove with which he. i»suä)ly' 
shawsi his hame^l' inean this pig« You se^e. Uie' 
pnimal go where you will, and so well fed, so • 
pily^ soraiaad, so paoncAiVr as yofiwillisoareeiy 
everseelt elsewhere. In mo other country hay« 
I ever seen» so mkny pigs, ezitept' perhaps in; 
iWi^tchia; butthe.WaUcbian pigs, ieeding in 
the woo(|^, are a mnch^ wilder räcethan the Ii^L 
pigs, which are lifierally the inmates ' of ithetfi- 
^naster^ home, and are^eared up With the oU)(sr ^ 
jmembers of> b^. family. IV^bat the hopse ia to. 
thisAralx orthie dog'to^tbe Olre^nlander, the pif ^ 
is to.an irishman. '^Hö feeds it quite as wellvä« 
|he4oes=hi6 children, assigns^tb it a corner tin his 
fiitting-|ioom,sharea>his potatoes, his mitiiJ, and 
•b» bread with^ it, and^ these favoi;ire, he fcon^ 
ifidently aspects, the. pto will in due time 'grate- ' 
jfaify- T«0eyr ti^a. tie-pig it Is that» the besi. 
hopes or the poor peasant oQen iepbse. 'iTha 
ipig^itiS'mnst pay me^ent^V/i^ a speech-yon miiy 
hMirrepeatedmindfeds cfUkofis* The M^h^nt 
Iwhich^he hk$ to make iu> fbeihis4andk>ru'f9 the; 
heaviest <]tf the^pbdr iemj»^ eartUy cares, and» 
ithe pi9 is thefriend^thatmust. Mileve him df^it.' 
:0f kte years, I wai sometimes told, diat thegott 
Ihadibeen preferred, as ciasjer to rear than :the.' 
ipig. bot in all those pApts of the country which: 
jl Visited, the jng was the predoiainant animal. 
! In front bf many, of the &rm-houses thatl» 
jpassedif saw hawtnom bashes cut into fantastic 
shapes, _p^rai»idB, crosses, dec., as 1 had oßea 
jseen in Snglaad. By> the roadside, also, ^ey oo* 



14 



IRELAND. 



evned ftematif, asd «ome bad tum» of enor- 
BHNis tMcneM, and appeared of a much greater 
age than we ever see tbem in Germany. There 
are parte of Ireland where nothing now remains 
bat thoe old tbom-bnabee, to testify to the mighty 
fbfests that once grew there. There are many 
cooDtries in Europe where the forests that for- 
merly existed there hare completely vanished, 
in consequence of the uathriftv manner in which 
the inhabitants have dealt with their timber. No 
other country, however, has been so neglectful 
of this department of natiodal economy as Ire- 
land, and the inconvenience is now felt. By 
gantations of yonng trees, they are endeavour- 
g to repair their bygone errors. It is the same 
in Swiiaerhmd, in Greece, in Southern Rus- 
sia,dbc. 

The birch appeared to me to be made an ob- 
ject of particular care. In every direction I saw 
Yonng saplings of this beaniifal and useful plant, 
ont always in small parcels, and not in such ex- 
tensive plantations as we often see in our own 
well-wooded country. The English require 
much wood for their ships, and have to pay a 
higher price for it than most of their commer- 
Msial rivals; when we think how there lie waste 
in Ireland many thonj^ands of acres, well stiited 
for the growth of oaks and pines, it is difficult to 
comprehend why more energetic exertions are 
not made to plant with timber the lands now leA 
uaoccnpied and unused. 

Ballimahon was the second place at which I 
changed horses. It is a small town, but is known 
throughout the conntiy for its great egg-market, 
an article in which much business is also cairi- 
ed on at Lanesborougb and other places in the 
c0unty of Longfbrd. In every direction I was 
continually aeeing the egg^buyers, with baskets 
on their backs, going about irom hut to hut to 
make their purchases, which are ailerwarris 
baonght to the several markets.. The eggs are 
sent by the canal to Dublin, and thence shipped 
to England. Liverpool, and even London, are 
in a great measure supplied with eggs from Ire- 
land. 

Passing along a number of crossways and by- 
ways, I arrived i^ Atblone. AW the principal 
loWDS of Ireland, all those of first and second 
rank, lie along the coast, or, at all events, UrUh' 
ineary reach of the sea; in the inland pans of 
the island one sees none but towns of inferior 
importance. One of these is Athlone, which, on 
account of its central position, appears well sit- 
uated to be the capital of the country. It is said, 
indeed, to have once been in contemplation to 
make it the seat of government ; and it Is even 
nl>w the spot where the strongest military force 
is kept, readv to march upon any pert of the isl- 
and wfiere di-stDrbances may break ont. The 



DnbUfi; for though in some wealthy houses & 
the seacoast towns, coals are buined, yet the ma- 
jority of the population everywhere bum nothing 
but turf, which may be obtained more easily 
from the siuface of the ground than can the coa» 
from their deep and laborious piines. When 
their supply of turf has been exhausted, the Irish 
wiil pay more attention to their coal-fields, the 
real extent of which is still unknown to them. 
Before that time comes some centuries must 
pass away, but there are parts of Ireland where 
turf is b^mning to grow scarce. In the north 
of Germany, wbere we have also many turf 
bogs, the people provide for the reproduction of 
the turf. ' They leave square holes, in which the 
water collects. The marsh-plants accumulate 
in those reservoirs, and at the end of thirty or 
forty years turf ma jr again be cut Irom th^ same 
place, and thus a piece of turf-land is n\ade to 
afford an inexhaustible supply of fuel to its own- 
ers. In Ireland nothing of the kind is thought 
of. The turf is cut away wherever Nature haa- 
deposited the trea^sore,ana none seems to trouble 
himself abom the renewal of the supply. I'he 
oonseouenee is that many villages are mourning 
over their dwindling stock of turf, and can aK 
most calculate the day on which they will have 
consumed their last sod. 

A remarkable phenomenon connected with 
these bog^ is the manner in which they devetop 
themselves sometimes in their centre, and theft 
overflow their banks in all directions. The skiea 
of a bog, for intitance, will often become dry and 
hard, and form a rampart round the middle partr 
which continues moist, and jherefiire continaea 
to grow. The middle^ naturally, soon rise« to a 
higher level, and this ele4ration of the middle of 
the bog may be seen at a glance as you pass- 
through the country. In general there are some^ 
brooks or rivulets, which carry away the surplua 
water from these bogs, hot not always, and when» 
thia ia not the case, aa soon as the accumulated, 
moisture has grown beyond a certain volume, it 
■break« its way, and overflows fertile fields, bary- ^ 
ing houses, trees, and oilen men, in its pueress. 
Accidents of this kind still occur in Ireland, and 
hav» probably done so from the remoiest times,, 
affbrdmg a ready means of accounting foi the- 
vast extent of country which the bogs have iik 
time been able to cover. Many .articles still 
found in the bogs seem to bear testimony to the 
suddenness of M>me of the^e eruptions : trun ks of 
trees^ human slceletons, implements of husband^ 
ry, and the bones of animahi no k>nger to be sMt- 
with in Ireland; for instance^ those of the elk. 
The most remarkable substance found in the bog 
is the bog^borter, aa it ia called, and which the 
commpB people believe to have been really bot> 
ter; though why hotter i^houki haire been swal-- 



cavalry, and infantry. 

Ijeaving Athlone, we crossed a portion of the 
Bog of Allan, a bog, which, under various names, 
occupies a large part of the great plain which 
ntn,s from east to west, from Dublin to Gal way, 
dividing the country into two sections, a roountp 
ainona north and a mountainous south. The 
lower gronnds are quite covered with the mo- 
rass, which presents the appearance of a reddish 
monotonous level. The cultivated fields oflen 
cDme down close to the edge of the bog, as the 
flowery fields of Switzeriand advance toihe ex- 
treme margin of the glaciers. Large quantities 
of turf are obtained from this bog, and sent down 
the Shannon to Limerick, or along the canals to 



jdaee is fortifieil, and has barraeks for artillery,: lowiid up m auclb vaat quantities it would be dif* 



ficult to say. 

Shaimon Harbour lies on the Shannon, at the- 
month of the Grand Canal. This canal extend« - 
to Dublin, and the Shannon being navigable 
hence to Limerick, Gannon Harbour forms an 
intermediate point of some importance for the in- 
land navigation between those two cities. The 
commerce along this canal is not, however, very 
considerable, and Shannon Harix>ur, whatever 
it may hereafter become, consists at present only 
of a good inn, with a row of warehout^es and 
counting-houses along the canal, and a sort of 
appendix »f cabins for the Irish labourers. In 
the warehouses I saw little except large qiianti- 
ties of Galway oysters, and as I found it im pes- 



IRELAND. 



15« 



•ible to take a very lively interest in thiftde8cri|>- 
tioD ol* mercfaandiiie, I tu rued fi-om the present to 
the past, and examined some ruined castles, 
whicn were said to have once belonged to an 
Irish hero of the name of Mac Ogfalan, who pos- 
sessed no less than six castles in ihe neigbboor- 
hood. One of these castles 1 had observed as 
we came along. It had all the appearance of 
an old feadal castle, was quite as ratnous as its 
age warranted, and was almost covered with 
ivy; nevertheless, the owner seemed to have 
made himself a very comfortable dwelling among 
the ancient halls and the toppling ruins. 1 have 
met many similar instances in Ireland of ruined 
castles, in which the owners contrived stiH to 
live very much at their ease. Another of the 
mins lay about a mile and half from the place, 
and a young man accompanied me thither as 
guide. When we arrived it was getting dusk, 
and on my preparing to jump over a diicb, that 
I might go close up to the castle, which lay in 
the middle of a large potato-6e1d, my youth hung 
back, and told me he would wait in the road till 
I came back. I soon saw he was afraid of the 
"good people," of whom the Irish are certainly 
far more in dread than they are of the devil. I 
was curious to see how far my companion's fear 
wem, and threatened to withhold the promised 
shilling unless he went wtfh me. ** Oh, I donH 
care about that I" he murmured to himself, and 
remained obstinately behind. I had to explore 
the ruin bv myself, but it contained nothing very 
remarkable — nothing but a few loopholes, and a 
few vaults that had fallen in. 

Not far off lay a small bouse to which my at- 
tention had been directed in Shannon Harbour, 
as one the inmates of which would be able to 
give me some information respecting the tradi* 
tions connected with the castle. Thither I di- 
rected my steps, and, seeing a woman at the 
door, I called to her. She appeared for a mo- 
ment to consider whether she should attend to 
my call, theo, retiring as I advanced, cried out 
to know what 1 wanted. On my approaching 
nearer she started off across some fields, and ran 
toward a house at a distance ^m her own. 
Perhaps my arrival from the haunted ruin at 
such an hour had appeared somethim? very aw- 
fhl to her, and my foreign accent may have com- 
pleted- the effect. My guide too, I found, had 
taken to his heels, and I did not see him again 
till my return to Shannon Haboor, whither be 
had run as fast as his legs could carry him, to 
seek shelter by hfe mother's turf fire from all the 
fays and goblins in the world. His mother 
scolded him fair a coward, but who knows wheth- 
er she would have behaved more valiantly in his 
place. Wherever Englisb civilization cotaes, 
the ** good people" grow more and more scarce, 
so at least people told me, but my own etperi- 
enie scarcely bears out the assertion, for even in 
the inost Anglified parts of li^land 1 found my- 
self surrounded by swarms of good people," as 
soon as I ventured abioad in the dusk. 

' Not for from Shannon Harbour, a little far- 
ther up the river, are ruins of much greater in- 
terest, known as the '* Seven Churches," This 
is a spot that has been held sacred from the ear- 
liest period of Irish Christianity. The ruins of 
the churches lie near the beautiful banks of the 
river, and amon^ ihem are .«scattered the grave*«, 
it is said, of a number of the ancient lrl«»h king<. 
I bad occasion, afterwards, to see other place«; of 
similar sanctity, and .shall return to the subject. 
Innhe same wav that Shannon Harbour bad 



its Mac Oghlan, almost every district in IrelaacI 
had once its renowned king or chief, of whoae 
achievements the people continue to speak with 
admiration to the present day, and whose legiti- 
mate descendants a suranger is sure to meet with^ 
if he make any sta^ in the country. Almoot 
every Irishman of guod family can trace his da* 
scent from one of the kings of Ulster, Leinster». 
Monster, or Cnnraoght, and many fiimiliea am 
still looked upon by their friends as the genuine 
representatives of the ancient sovereigns of th» 
country. There ans persons who, though their 
names may not be lirand in the peerage, yet ia 
certain circles ai^ «ooked upon as nobler thai^ 
the proudest peers in the land. The most ancient 
of these genuine Irish families are the Milesian 
iamilies as they ajte called, who are aupfwsed to- 
be. able to trace their genealogy to Mileiias, the 
conqueror of Ireland, and the second son off 
Beremon, King of Spain, who " came over" tO' 
Ireland, some say 500, and others 100^ years^be-- 
tore the Christian era. Most of the Irish names* 
having an O before them, as CConnell, O'Don*- 
nell, O'Sollivan, du:., pointed, 1 was told, to ». 
Milesian origin. In general, historians reject a»' 
mere fables, all ^^^^e old traditions of Heremon^ 
MiletiHs.and of the Tuatha-de^naans that liv- 
ed in Ireland before Mlletius, and of the Firbolgs 
that occupied the country several thousand yeara 
before Christ. A few, with Thomas Moore, be- 
lieve a portion of these oral chronicles, but the 
people at large place entire confidence in them^ 
and will, no doubt, long continue to do so. An 
Irishman has the history of MiJetins, HereaMMi^ 
the Phoenicians, the Spaniards, the Tuatha-de«^ 
danaane, and all the rest of them, as completely 
at his fingers' ends, as a German gymnasiasi baa- 
the history of Caesar, Augustus, Tiberina, Ac. 
Bven granting then that there may not be a par- 
ticle 01 truth m many of these old tales, the fact 
is still remarkable enough, that the Irish, like the 
Indians, should have built up for themselves a 
system of traditions, that spreads out its roots into 
the grajrest antiquity. Nor is it less remarkable 
that a whole people should still continue to am use 
itself with imaffiaed legends and invented ^amea, 
and should telTof them with as mach confidence' 
as of the events of yesterday. If this be no his» 
torical, it certainly is an ethnographical anti 
psychological phenomenon, and, to the best of 
my beUef, nothing like it is to be met with in anf 
other part of Europe. In luly the people have 
no current legends about the empire of Janus, oi> 
the domination of Saturn; not in Germaiiy or^ 
Scandinavia shall we find any tales ahout OaMi^- 
or about onr original immigratiott firom the ea«l^ 
unless we turn to the books of the learned. ' fa- 
Prance, also, Caesar effectually obliterated all 
the legends and tales of the Pmida and of the 
original Celts, but the Saavns have not been able 
to dissipate the glory of Miletlus and his coiK 
sorts, who bop about in all directions with thtir 
old storiefl, asfheshlyand merrily as if they weie- 
gifted with perpetual infancy. 

Even among the Norman and Saxon names hi 
Ireland, an o'd Celtic race often lies concealed p 
some Irish families having found it convenient 
in periods of persecution to seek a naminntsheU 
ler against their enemies. Thus the real name 
of the wHl-known family of Fitzpalrick is *' Mae 
Guillo Phafick.*' The memory of the ancienfc- 
name, however, is always carefully preserved, 
and the people oflen prefer to call the memhem« 
of these Saxoniaed and Normanised families by 
their original Celtic appellations. 



46 



IRELAND. 



I fell in, rhat eveniDg, in ShatiDon Harbour, 
M^ a member ofooe ol tbeae'aociöit Irisb lam^- 
•lies, and äs, notwithstandtog. iheir pride of an- 
«tttry^ tbey are. mostly frtfmdLy, sociable, and 
eomm unieatire, we spent the evening very agree- 
ably 'togeiher. The moßt interesting . communi- 
eatian.of my new. friend consisted in the plan of 
aa estate, whicb be said his ikmily bad possess- 
■^> €m eighteen hundred years, first as. native 
^fsnces, and' allerwanis, ntiaer ao altered name, 
«s vassals of Engiand. Oa this territory, occu- 
pying, a aurlace of forty English square miles. 
'^lefe are no less thaiiieigbceen ruined bastles and 
^svo rained toners, maJdng one rain to every, 
«qnare mile. If 'the same proportion bold good 
4ir the feat of the countiy, Ireland, w^th its. thirty- 
teo thousand square mües, miisthave. sixteen 
thousand, ancient ruins^ zaiiJar aught T know 
^hifl mtmber may i^ hie much, over the mark. 
My friend I was irom Conn^anara^ the wild wesu 
«ra mounttinons district öfComnaugfat He 
nxd(e. highly of the ho^oitafily of. the gentiy in. 
those parts, pajrticuUuriyi ot. the O'Flahertys, the 
^descendants of the. anciem sovereigns. People 
lived vei7 " sty lishly:'^ th^ije, my friend assu^d i 
me, gave splendid xl^ecs and nactieis, and woe 
ipora '* showy" >than even in. oti^r p^rts of Ire- 
land. The melancholy conseqoence, howevec, 
■€i£,:t\m.styÜ8kaiidsi4ney way orJife is, tl^atmost 
•of .th^ iestates are heavily mortgaged, and these 
mar^gage^' the unavoidable result of eictrava- 
giance, ki^e usually enumerated among the causes 
>qf. the. decline of .Irish agrteuitu re. 
' GonBaught,.paiitiealarlythi^mcN]ntaiaouspart, 
-was ioag ä favoudfee place of ceftige for ihe Cd- 
licolfitsh) when 4rivenihy the.£pglisb fiomvthe 
«ffstetn^ . districts, li luis, tbemfdie, like , Wales, 
netaittfld a mote, completely j\atJxHial cha«adi^r, 
tbejEnglish. language being, scarcely understood \ 
in.t^e more remote regiona JLeinsteir, on. the 
Jthdr.hai^, is almost Aüsrlioized, the Irish lan^ 
j^gB b^ing .spoken in ,OBly a lew out^^ther way . 
v^ocnen. Ncäirly ithie saine may he eaid o^Mun* 
fiS»r.i tbOiBgh . scarcely tp the same, degise. Of 
4Jlitter. the greater .paa>has rece^ived a Sootjbish 
impnssßioo, thonghJrish is^U.«iü^eB.heiDejaiul 
tlwnu. Connaught.is the only thjprcM^ghiyliäsh 
fkn^JDCdu Letaatec may be said^ to be Jbe prdvi- 
«nce ofiight, rCotHiaughi theproidaGe of da]ikiie.ss 
iDilcetod.: jinthevformer is t6e..greatestx:ultlya^ 
'4np» Iodine lov^lya^i^:Wicklpw4 yiib^l^t»- 
t^i pövfitty, .iiazbacisa, supe^ition^ anii« the 
«rUd« offQe^nsmi^ia. ' ]äirenJp>ti]UlestherQ is a 
<»aifk»d.diifeiien<» faetween.the iahatuimntsof the 
tucp pmKinces. ^hiis;iB;Lflioster,.as tbranghont 
i;^9^mdi p^appbajfiBt the entrMls.Qf.thB«sheep,bQt 
iifififtrthpse.gf theihcg;; .iniCkmnaughlJtaa jvM 
iMrc^tmne, 

IPJ^E^SHANNON ANDME PAJJRIES OF 

WfBlljiwiyAR Ififfe w«k oifUie *.^ jjbjwWBJ«». 
5i^^v.fp^,jj,^i^^the,lMBg<tf.^lUmiy.:0^^ A. 
foreigner, when be l<iilili5i.of.a»mpHOf<«w; Iftlge 
«f^ptm^lfil! i«|m»m«^ R^jTu^i #^t^conmd/^.(he 
c|4lhQt,^m^:»lvitiofian«;(a90^».tiQn, W letihlm, 
e^<)i>f99{this,gipi;i«iis jijir^r.indltsilak«^, aPd be 
wJWihqx^^iKQ.lQSs tp. iwd«iritfit94 that, roval ma- 
iffily^ in.the maUftHQf riyejw^ may hequit^ inde- 
pei^nt^of le^g||l^orex(e^t» [I'hj^JS^tish i9]ai^d$ 
^rtaiiily c#P boa!»Vof no seiQQnd s^m, the beau- 
ties, of wju>s^ b^pk« coqld fqr ampmentbe c^- 

Av.tet^ryblitlkhie 13 broad ««4 mlfh^^ for 



he starts on his course strong with the tribute of 
•a lake (Lddgh Allen% atfdtmYvr^cs Iht.middhl. 
of lielaud, io adiceetioQ jurom^north.-east tiOk^nthr 
.west Thrice again he wide«« out into, a l^ke; 
first imo the. little Xoogh Bvffin^then imo'tbe 
larger Lo^gh Ree, and la-stly, when Jie ha$ got. 
:more.than half way to the ocean, in(p.the yet 
ilonger I^ough Oerg. BeW Limerick .be opei» 
into a noble estuary, and when at length he faUa 
JDto .the sea.bet.w«en Isotop Head and ^rvy Head« 
the glorious river has completed a course of twp. 
hundred and fourteen. English or^about ibny4hree 
German miles. The. greater part of tfate Shaiit 
non runs through th(e^. central plain wh^ch: sept 
arates the manntainous. north from the monntr 
niDaus south. A similar plain oiiats in Eugn 
land between.Iiull and. Bristol, and .in. Gotland 
petwec^n EdinhDcgh. and Qlasgow, and In eaok 
jcaae the >p]ain intervei^ between lai|;tyr districts, 
ofa dBcidedlv. mountainiHM chaiacxi^.^ Each .of: 
Ibese three «plains, moreover, is iot^fsecved by>thfi. 
^runqipal canals: of thi^^ several cauntpes, and. 
e%ch,has;its pripcipal rir^^ i^.the .Severn» the, 
Qlyde^ and the^ahannoA. 

As.. the Shannon .waters no le^s than, thiiteeii 
of the thii!ty*tvacaomka of liieland„th^ impjDov/er 
nient of the navigation has. loog been one.of^the 
leadiing public questioha in that countnr« JdosBu 
than, one hundred years ago, it waa believed .ttot. 
by an et^ndiAnrfi^of^mjmar £80^000, it would 
be ,pof«iblie ta lemojre the chief düBcaltieSy whieh 
consisted of a number of trocl». ajnd shoals, that 
encunf^bered its channel When the Earl o£ 
BtinWavji lk«raa Liord Ideuteitant of Ireland, he 
proposed a ptan, which, however, was not. car- 
ried into /execution^ Several projects wens afHäet- 
jw9^ prDf)Q6€Ai some, of ^hieh wei« altogether 
beglected^ others, only partially caariedi.om,.bnt, 
all of them, like almost evejy meiaaam cahsula* 
M tq be bene^cia) to Ireland^ originaied iuEoir^ 
land. Tihe.jnv^enti^, of steam nt^vigation has, 
howevjer, bad the chiefieffe«^ in at last briogti«. 
^bout > the, ivuprovemcsits i» , the .Shannon» aa . it 
hascdoine. in many tithet meips* A new.co^pany 
hw becu formed for.the ptirpow afixäDooving, as. 
muqb aa po^a!bk^.aU natncaUmpedimeAts tothe. 
>iaFigatio0 of >the.riiirer; and thoogh.lh«. worl». 
are noli y^ complete»; twftly)e.ati$uttbc^ ama^ 
bady infttjilAeiiTiiiy 0Aitha,^h4n»Ptp^ vitbeijeifife 
^eep^ yearailg[Q itbfia .v«a.QiuvwOi^eu 

A$ tber»>art no.mi|iQ»i& lis Iceland, Mitb.the< 
pneeptJon.ofLtirqcmitiiatpijeiQiieii,^ whoerxfa^ 
th^r eKlenttei^.ihar«i^Maisit^.^. iiQitmm^tfttre. 
P09^peat, ^.cm^jvfi^ch .aiai«r9exth«^cQaQtt9;. 
^ce. m^h u^ i(<3r HfwreiUng». aad i»>ai9, jtw«v- 
hlly,niM to.oj^erfl0wi»g^ rt|y.nBg«lHrty«fromü Bid, 
to.DublUu Tllh«rbq«t^,<Kk«<thQ, «»cfiidli^ 
HQllaa4^a;^.dm9rooby faorsea iHalK.mtixevakHig 
Btcasmartirfoi^ 7^a9tm>i!g»,(Mfou8<^stt»iy4 
!Dg;the Iri^i .-^ple^ I)h9 wapgi^iofjtis^ti^iiifag m. 
^(^ to b^4$cpmmi»ad$id. -^ 

,Itiwa9 on avbeAutifQiday.iliat^I.^liibukadjtQ^- 
de^i^njd.ilh» ^iMiAaoxi. FloiiriOg;Qti|.<oif a.lftko, 
and fpn^lpg 8§y<^l othftr Jake^ , in «a j»Dgi*^ 
pie water is,e«|rej»e\yqi«ftrand heawltful. Thft 
m9,y^nne)U \9 mjseQe»! eqaabla^exc^pting a<ftir 
^apjds whi»^l^, %ffti a.YPid«d iby m,ean^ of canals, 
\Ekß bank8,..tQ0) ar$ pleasing to the ey)e* t^uge 
jjrr^n meadow», slpeicth ajfli«.the aide» of thef.riv- 
errand villages alternate widi handf^omie eountiy. 
jseats, surrouqdjed by theirparks. Herons ahound< 
along the ma^n, and many.Qf.the$fi.beautifn 
pird^ WW copMipoally wheeling over. us in tha 
a|r, the^r pluma9e^UlU»dagsagäA,in thajoiysoc 
ftesuB. 



IVLZhAVP* 



.»» 



The mipat nmfiElEatf e pan of onr cajgo con- 
sisted in a consign nbent or oxen and cows üoqa 
■Hamburg, that i^ad loand their way into Ireland 
in virtue of Sir Robert Peel's new tariff. The 
people were not a little alarmed, for they had^ 
always been accustomed to supply their friends 
with beasts of this description, and not to import 
them for their own use. The foreign ruminators 
were Evidently a source of great anxiety to the 
naiire passengers in the steamboat. " Oar 
woollen manufactureSj" said (me Irishman to 
me, " that used to flourish in Kilkenny, Dublin, 
and other places, have been destroyed by the 
Engli^; our linen oaanufiictures at Belfast and. 
Drogheda are threatened ; no branch of manu- 
factures can rise among us, on account of the 
iounease privileges enjoved by English industiy. 
^If our farmers and graziers are now to be ruined 
tpo, what is to become of usi" 

Some connoisseurs, I observed, stood about 
the Ham burghers, and shook their heads, de- 
claring that if no bettex specimens were brought 
ovstf the Irish breed had nothing to fear, let the 
tariff be ever so low. The animals weire de- 
clared to bp Very ^coarse, though strong for work- 
ing. We in Germai^ have been so wnjg accus- 
toi^ed to look on the roast beef of Hamburg as 
a national delicacy, that t could pot bring my- 
self to coincide in the judgment of my tellow- 
Travellers. 

. Our party on the steamer revived itself into 
two divisions-H>ne genteel and silent on the 
Quarter-deck, the other talkative and unreserve^ 
in the front of the vessel. Aller I had made a 
lew vain attempts to break the ice among the 
former, | left them to themselves^ and mingled 
^ith the less artificial part of the company, 
j^nong whom X was soon engaged in a variety 
of conversations, from which T<ferived much in- 
teresting information. A native of the kingdom 
of Kerry extended his patsonage to «me from the 
2&rst« These Blerrymen enjoy the reputation 

. throughout Ireland of great scholarship. "Even 
the farmers' sons and labourers know Latin 
there," is a common. saying. My eompan ion was 
iat all. events deeply versed in the fairy legends 
^f his country, and related to me a multitude of 
them, though many, owing to his peculiar diar 
lect, were almost nointelUgible to me. Among 
the old ruins at Shannon Harbour I bad wit- 
ziessed the dread of the Irish, after dusk, at the 
thought of supernatural spirits; I had now, on 
the bosom of tne beautiful Shannon, an opportn- 
jihy of seeing with what zeal they can talk of 
ihe invisible world on a fine sunshiny day. I 
■am guilty of no exaggeration when I say, that 
they crowded their beads together as eagerly 
around the narrator, as so many merchants would 
Jbave done on 'Change, if engaged in the settle- 
ment of some important transaction. 

In general, their fairies and spirits are known 

' under the comprehensive title of the ''good peo- 
ple ;" but they have distinct classes, and of these 
are the Leprahauns and Lechrigauns. The Lep- 
i:ahauns, a kind of spirit not of very frequent oc- 
currence, are of earthly habits.and will sometimes 
JBhow vast treasures to those who have the cour- 
age to (bllow them. The great point Is for a 
man not to lose sight of a Leprahaun, but to keep 
him constantly in view. If you^look aside for a 
moment the spirit is sure to ^ gone, and you are 
left alone amonff bogs and wildernesses to find 
your way out if you can. .Few men are firm 
enough tp win the day against a Leprahaun, 
whose great delight is to p&gue and torment his 



twffled fpUowfjta ; but he wha is bold and fina 
enough to keep the spirit steadily in vieW, ac- 
quires at last a complete power over him, and 
nuijrdö what he will with him, and may make 
his fortune for lifl^. Ther^ seemed to me to b6 
a beautiful allegory concealedf under this fairy 
tale. The power of the human mind, exercised 
with perseverance and consistency, triumphs 
over all obstacles, and reduces even spirits to its 
will: the weak and undetermined, on the other 
hana, are plagued and domineered over by the 
very same imps whom the resolute can airec( 
and control. Poor Paddy, I fear, though he in- 
vented the legend, is much oftener mocked than 
obeyed by his spirits. 

We have our ghosts and goblins tQo in Ger- 
many, but in general they have been seen only 
by that very indefinite personage "somebody;* 
and it would be difficult to find among us ^nv 
one who boasted of ocular acquaintance wifa 
the mysterious fraternity. Not so in Ireland. 
" Oh, your honourdon't bei (eve our fairy storie^," 
said one of my companions, who had observed 
me shaking my head as he was tö]ling one of his 
marvellous tales j "yet V\\ lay a wager there's 
many a man now abroad to wb(^m the strange$t 
things have happened, and which we must believe 
because they are plain, simple, indisputable facts. 
Now there's Tom 0*Sul|ivan, your honour, there 
he stands, and Tom^s one our best bagpipe play- 
ers* in Kerry. Well," till after he was thirty,' 
Tom had never handled a bag of pipes in )iis 
life. It ha( pened, however, one day, that Tom 
was wandering among the hills, and lay dowu 
to sleep in a place that belonged to the * good 
people,^ and there are many such places in our 
country. Now, when he was asleep the fairies 
appeared to him, and played him a power of the 
most beauti ul tunes upon the bagpipes, and then 
raid the bfgpipes down by the side of him. 
Well, when Tom awoke he felt about in th$ 
grass, and soon feuiid the pipes, and when he 
took them up he was able to play off-hand and 
quite pat every one of the tunes that the fairies 
bad taught him. Now that's a fact, yotir hon^- 
our." 

" Is it so, Tom V* said L 

"Indeed it is, your honour, and very prettjr 
people they were that taught m^. And though 
it*s now thirty years since they gave me tne 
pipes, I have them still, and they play as beaU- 
tiiully now as the first day.*' 

" 'I'here now, that's a fact, your honour." ' 

Hereupon Tom went on and told me of a yet 
more marvellous adventure of a friend *of his, 
one Phin McShane, who had fousht in a great 
battle on the side of the Kerry fairies against 
the Limerick fairies, and his bravery had helped 
the former to gain a victory, whereupon they 
a;ave him a cap, that, when he wore it, made him 
as strong as any other seven men. " And Phin 
has the cap still, and when he puts it on, there's 
not a man in the barony will affront him. Now 
that's another fact, your iionour, and wheii you 
come to Kerry FH show you my pipe», and'tojr 
frieoid Phin shall show you his cap." - ' 

" I see, sir, you don't believe 'em," cried « 
woman here, ^'and yet it's a wonder Vou don't. 
Well; I've seen the good people witß my owa 
eyes dancing on their grounds, and my own ears 
have heard them play the most beaatiful music. 
It's only a few days ago that my husband and/" 
were coming Irom Gal way, through the count» 
of Roscommon, over the bog of Ballinaslo« 
We were both tired and lay down to sie«*» »*- ♦»- 



18 



IRELAND. 



tide of a well. My hasband fell asleep, but I 
dido% and soon I heard the raost beautiful masic ; 
1 thought there might have been a piper near at 
hand, and stood up to look about me, but as 1 
saw nothing I waked my husband, and bid him 
Jisien. * Let's go on,' says he, *it's the good 
people that's pl|(yu3^^* and so he pulled me a way^ 
and by the same token ,1 lefia new handkerchief 
behind me that I hail bought in Gal way, and had 
pulled out to lool^ at by the well side.' . ; 

"Now that again is a iacij" observed my 
Kerry friend tery leai*nedly. The EnglisU have 
compiled a numjber of" Books of Facts" lor their 
children, but nere are facts which they have 
probabljf not yet. thought of collecting. 

Of all natiokis of xhe earth the Irish are proba- 
bly the strongest in their belief in the tricks and 
antics of these ^ny slaves. . There are stories in 
ceneral circulatipn infinitely more marvellous, 
than those I have ^ere related, but I preferred to 
tell those which the people declared had occiirned 
to themselves, and being much more character- 
istic of the country ibani legend^ which ^ave 
probably received poetical embellishments in 
passing through the hands of their sevejral nar- 
tators. 

It is quite characteristic of the Irish that their 
fciries should be diyided, like the island itself 
into 'counties. Vou hear of the Limerick fairies, 
and the Donegal fairies, and the Tippeiary fai- 
fies, and the fairies of two adjoining counties 
have their faction fights, just like the inhabitants 
tbem»elve$. In 'tipperary, however, is a place 
isx which all the fairies in irela[nd are s^id to hold 
their meetings. Another peculiarity of the Irish 
Ihiries is that tl^ey are quite as desirous to get 
mortals into thei^ service, as mortals are to ob- 
tain control of them. "They have always onie 
«r other of them in their service,** said my Kerry 
friend, " and they are always particularly anxious 
to get hold of little children. Whe;a a fairy has 
Kt her heart upop a child it falls sick and dies, 
and then the fairies fetch it away, and, breed it 
up, and it comeis, perhaps, to be one of the 
mtehtiest among thjcm. Troth it's the red-haired 
ehildren the fairies are fondest of, and it's they 
that run the greatisst risk,'^ 

Kow all this. sounds very poetically, but it 
vould be happy for Paddy, for all that, if^glish 
civilization could but drive his fairies out of his 
head. He might then be less disposed to ascribe 
his misfortunes to supernatural causes, and look 
for wealth and independence not. like Goethe's 
iDoney«digger, to elvjes and goblins but to his 
ttwn care and }iidüstry. How olten .have 1 
irished that to some of my superstitious Iri^h 
friends I could have translated Goethß's excel- 
lent lines: 

Xonn tnit ingatlicher BetchwOrumr 

Nicht zar<tek an diesen Ort. 

Gnbe hj«i- nicht mphr reichen«. 

TBg«s ÄrlMit, Abmtd*8 61st«, 

Savra Wochen, fin4i« Feste, ^ 

Sei dein ^afiig Zaulwrirort.^ 

Passing firom the fairies my bora and bred 
Kerryman came to speak of Father Mathew and 
Ihe great temperance question. 

** Oh, he's a blessed man, and the Almighty, 

• From nagrie »peHs and ehanit nfinda, 
Come not near this spot again. 
For treason grope no more below. 
Days of busy labour, 

Erctting sports and plajs, 
Weeks uf care andtronbfa, 

Merry holydays. 
Be thy only necroinaBcy aov. 



glory be to his Dame, gave him die power tha^ 
shines from him." 

** You mean," said I^ '* the power of eloquence 
and persuasion, and ot the excellent example he 
offers in his owi? life." 

*' Oh no, not at all, that's not what I ^ean. 
But when a man has talcen the pledge üM re- 
ceived his blessing, there V a particular grace io^ 
it. .; There's something in it, sir, that you can't 
80 easily understand, a grace,- a power, that no^ 
body comprehends who has not himself experi- 
enced it. The true and effectual pledge is not 
to be taken Irom the hands of any other man» 
Take the pledge of another priest, and it has not 
the same binding power." 

*' That's true enough, your honour," interrupt- 
ed another, " for doesn't he cure the most con* 
firmed drunkards t Nay, it's them he makes 
most, welcome, and when they have taken the 
pledge, it,'s they that make the very best temper- 
ance men. And doesn't he heal Che lame an<f 
the blind 1 (ph, we could tell you a hundred 
facts of that,) how be has healed ' them eteu: 
against bis o^n will, for Father Mathew's too- 
modest to ^vm to the power that's in faimj but 
we know well that he has it for all that." 

Amid coQviersatfons like these we passed tha 
little town of Banagher. It is fortified, and thus 
presents a spectacle of rare occurrence in the 
British islands, though less rare in Ireland thaft^ 
in ^gland and Scotland. Then gliding along 
by Redwood castle and the beautiful meadorwa 
01 Portnmna. we left the town of Portumna to- " 
our right» and entered the waters of Lough Dei^.^ 
The steamer in which we had hitherto travelled 
was of small dimensions, with a wheel under the 
stem, to allow of its passing through some canals 
of no great breadth ; but on the broad lake a new 
and larger vessel prepared to receive us. The 
two steamers came close to one another, to ex- 
change their respective passengers, and their* 
manoeuvre, as they swept round on the wide 
water, pleased me much. 

Ofthti lakes that like so many rich pearls are 
strung upon the silver thread of the Shannon. 
Lough Reeand Lough Bodarrig, lying in a level 
countiy, and in a great measure surrounded by 
bogs, priesent. liule that is pleasing to the eye» 
Lougb Allen Is situated almost wnolly witnii^. 
the mountainoius districts of the north, and a 
large portion of Lou|[h Deig is made picturesque 
by the mountains of the south. Liice all Irish 
lakes. Lough Deig contains a number of smalt 
green islands, of which the most renowned is 
Inniscaltra, an ancient holy place, containing 
the ruins of seven venerable chnrehes of great 
antiquity, apd the remains of one of those re^ 
markabfe columnal erections known in Irelanil 
ueder the name of ^* round towers." We passed 
the sacred isle at the distance of a mile and a 
half, but we could very distinctly make out ali 
its monuments by the aid of a telescope. A monc. 
the Irish a dispute arose whether "St. Patrick? 
purgatory" was to be sought for here, or on an isl- 
and in one of the upper lakes. A similar tradi- 
tion may have attached itself to seteral islands^ 
hat St. Patrick's puigatory, as known at one 
lime to half the Chrijstian world, and still to the 
whole learned world of Irel^ni, was undoubtedly 
situated in Inniscaltra. The Irish tradition was 
that St. Patrick had prevailed on God to place 
the entrance to purgairiry in Ireland, that the un- 
believers might the more readily be convinced 
of the immortality of the soul, and of the suffer- 
ings that awaited the wicked after 4eath. A 



IRELAND. 



19 



Ibw maidta. according^ to Beate, an old Irish 
•vriter, dwelt near the tAvera that represented 
4hin entraikce. Wiioever eame tp iht ihland ^Uh 
the inüatiuo 6f de^ceäbing jbtö the cavern, and 
•elaininiDg its%ondeilB; bad to prepare himself 
by lung vigils; iästi^, and prayers, to strei^gthen 
Jiiin, as he was told^ lor bis daogeroas expedi- 
tion ; but in rei^HtV,' by reducing bis bouily 
•trength, to maJl^e his imagination more ready to 
receive the implessiöbs which ii w«? thonght 
desirable to leivti upon bis mind. . He was then 
•kt down into tte bavern, whence, alter an intier- 
Tftl of several hotirs, He was drawn up again 
^alf dead, and'l^hen hie recovered bis «enses^ 
Biingiing the Wild dreams of bis own imagina- 
tion with what the monies told him^ be seldom 
&iied to teU fhe^ most marveUoos taWs pf the 
.plaee for the remainder of his life. It was not 
4ill in the reign' 6f James tl. that the monl^ were 
4rtven away ijtdm the place, and the mystery of 
the dark cavern dissolved, This legend, a^in 
ai^ears to me Wb»e i^markably characteristic of 
4he Irish. I Midrt they hre. the only Christian 
people who have found out an entrance to pur- 
gaiory at all, and when thev did so^ it argued no 
Bide courage to place it in the centre of their 
•vni island, at the same time that it aigned an 
admirable childlike laith. to have so long con- 
Mnoed the dapea of* a lew designing inonks. 
The Greeks also had an entrance to. the infernal 
lagioDs, and soih^ ^ their heroes we^i^ curious 
enough to explore' it ; but Homer places it at a 
. Stance from Greece, and it was opty after many 
wanderings that Ulystes was able to discover it 

The southern end of Lough Derg narrows as 
you proceed, tapering at last almost to a point, 
and at this point lies the little town of Killaloe. 
Thia ^outhon end is, however, by &r the most 
JMantiful part of the whole lough. The mount- 
ains of Slievh Bemagh, ]$nockermaon,^.,that 
He close to the lake, are green, wouded» and in- 
jkahited. Farther away to the rifht the Inchi- 
^uin mountain)^, aikd to the left th^ Keeper, 
lower to a height of upwards of 9000 feet. In 
4K)e of these mountains may be noticed a re- 
markable indentation called the pevil's Bite, 
which the Irish have hot been able to account 
lor 10 any other way than by supposing the devil 
10 have once conceived the whimsical notion of 
biting a bit out of the mountain ; taking it, I sup- 
pose, for the back of a plump Irish pig. The 
titbit, however, seemed not to nave plea.sed him, 
Ibr he spat it out again, and I was told that 
aomewhere in Ireland, I forget where, T might 
And a fragment of rock that exactly fitted into 
the place bitten into by the devil. > 

Louah Deiw, the, sailors told me, was six or 
aaven leet higner Jn winter than in summer; an 
immense increase of volume ibr a piece of wa- 
ter of such extent. It rarely freezes in winter, 
thooi^h in the sanie latitude as the Prussian 
Ba0Sf that are covered with ice almost eveTv 
year. In general,. Lough ]>eig has no ice at all 
in winter, not even on its margin ; but in very 
severe winters, it was mentioned as something 
linusaal, ice four inehes thick would form on the 
aides. Once, about foity years ago, the whole 
lake had been so completely frozen over, that a 
^ ear had been driven across. 

Bevond Killaloe we come again to rocks and 
whirlpools, and as the cahial was not yet finish- 
ed, by means of which this part of the river is to 
he avoided, we l^d the amusement of landing 
with bag and baggage, and proceeding with 
jaunting cars to the spot where U was possible 



to efilharlr for Limerick. The captain of the 
steamei* and his mates shipped themselves 6a 
the batks of some cantering nags, and; thus ca- 
paris^oned^ tattled away in ironi as commanders 
and escort (o the caravan. ♦ At the end of a few 
miles \ie,eihbarked again, bat this time in a long 
canal-boat drawn by a' coupk; of horses. All 
this, sounds; rather wild and Irish ; in England 
such a variegated mode of transport is scarcely 
10 be found. ' ' ' 

. Our new boat was separated into iwoxRvls- 
iohs; inihe hindmost, the genteeler passengers 
sat, in two iK>ws, very devoutly opposite to each 
other, and in seats not unlike church pews. In 
wiiat might be called^ the steerage, my Temper- 
ance friftnds fmm Kerry and Tipperary were 
chatting and smoking away on lone benches, 
with more comfort apparently, and certainly 
with much less constraint. 1 sooii overcame 
any repugnance which I might otherwise have 
felt on account of -the less scrupulous cleanli- 
ness of thia part of the vttssel, and determined to 
visit it, to prosecute my studies of Irish char- 
acter. 

Some pages baick I made mentioii of the repa- 
tation of the Kerry' men for leamina:, and found 
here a remarkable instance of it. I saw a man 
reading ui old mantiscript in the ancient Celtic 
character in which the Irish is still written^ 
The manuscript consisted of a multitude oJT 
sheets stHeheduigether, and the several parts, 
to iudge from the appearance of the paper, musi 
have been written at very difierent umes. U 
was brown with age, but had evidently been pre- 
served with great care. A part, the man told 
me, be had added himself, the rest-of it he had 
inherited from his father and grandfather; but 
some of it, he believ^, had been in the family 
long before their tim^. I inquired about t\le 
contents. Thar were the most beauiiful» he 
said, of the old Irish poems, some histories pf. 
remarkable events, and some treatises of ancient 
authors. Among others, there was a traaalatio» 
of a >ork by Aristotle on natural history. 

On inquiry, I found there was another man on 
board, a nanve of Clare, who had a manuscript 
of a similar character with. him. I asked the 
reason why they carried these relics with them 
on a journey. They said they did not like to 
lose siffht of them, aod then there were times ' 
when they* might read a bit in them. In the se- 
quel I fiiund many manuscripts of the kind in 
tne hands of the common people in Ireland. I 
was told there were some un parchment of ex» 
ireme age, but I never saw any myself except on 
paper. 

we issued once more from our narrow canal 
upon the broad, beautiful Shannon, and lande^ 
on the quay at Limerick late in the evening. 

LIMERICK AND THE IRISH SATÜR. 
DAYS. 

Limerick Is the third city in Ireiand, with a 
population of 75,000. Dublin, the first, contains 
270,000, and Cork, the second, 110,000 inhab- 
itants. 

The trade of Limerick, like that of most Irish 
cities, has increased in kn astonishing defirree. 
The exports have trebled since 1H20, and in 1841 
the customs alone produced je240,000, or about 
1,700,000 Prussian dollars. The inhabitants 
are, in consequence, full of hope that their port, 
hitherto a third class one, may soon be raised to 
the second class. 

iff the new parts of the town, the c'fi'ects of this 



IRKL^AND. 



improTi&g commerce ^ plaiii enovfli to be 
seen j the streets are broad and imposing, and 
ihe nouses large and well biiik. St. 6eoi|6e- 
street may vie with Sackvilie-street in Dablin. 
& Gteoige is an English saint, and the whole of 
this new quarter is called the English town. 
Gal way and many other Irish ciiies are divided, 
in the same way. ihto an English and Irish town. 
The Irish town is generally full of dirt, disorder, 
and decay; the English quarter, on the other 
hand, reminds one oi'the better )>arts of London. 
The mhabitants of the two quarters live in a 
sort of constant opposition to one another. In 
this way every large city in Ireland has been 
adorned by the English with a cleanly and com- 
fortable quarter, and the Irish have returned the 
favour by hanging on to most of the laige Eng- 
lish cities, a dirty and disorderly quarter of He- 

. lots. In Manchester there are said to be 60,000 
Irish, in Glasgow 50,000, in Liverpool 40,000, 
in Birmingham 25,000, in Leeds 12,000, and in 
London more than 100,000. In almost every 
large English >towo you find a quarter that re- 
minds you of St. Giles's in London. The Eng- 
lish complain much, and with good reason, of 
the habits of the Irish. The Irish have also 
many well-foanded c<>raplaints to make uf the 

. English ; but when the Irish sum up their griev- 
ances, they ought also to remember the advan- 

■. ta^es for which they stapd indebted to the English. 
It is the English that improve the navigation of 
the Sbannoo. urge the draining of the bogs, and 
gradually drive the Irish elves and fairies into 
the sea ; it is the English woo enrich the Irish 
towns with clean, comfortable, and civilized 
quarters; it is the English who constitute the 
soul and pith of the British power, and it is to 

, them that the Irish owe it, if they are able to 
participate in the wide-spread commerce of 
Great Britain, 6nd to share in all the opportuni- 
' ties and advantages that stand open to a British 
subject. The vigorous, speculative, and perse- 
vering Anglo-Saxons force the indolent and an- 

' energetic Celts along with them oq the road of 
glory and national greatness ; they pull them for- 
ward, somewhat rudely perhaps, but they do pnll 
them forward. 

Nothing, however, is to be found in Limerick 
more beautiful than the " Limerick lasses," who 
are as much celebrated in Ireland as the " Lan- 
eashire witches" are in England. Both places 
lie in the west, and in the more Celtic west of 
the two islands. This may aff>rd matter of cu- 
rious speculation, but who will fathom the mys- 
teries that hang over the formation of beautiiiil 
women 1 

It was arm-in-arm with a descendant from a 
fOyal race, a Mr. 0*Rourke, that I sallied forth 
to see the town. An O'Rourke wias am<^g ^e 
princes that assisted the English in the first con- 
quest of Ireland, but turning afterwards against 
the invaders, he was killed by them. The fam- 
ily subsequently. fell into decay, and there are 
Jaw but few left to bear the name. It was on a 
ßaturday evening, and the pawnbrokers' shops 
Were full of bustle. The poor people were re- 
deeming their Sunday clothes, that they might 
look gay on the morrow. They had just receiv- 
ed their weekly wages, of which a part was- go- 
ing to the pawnbroker, and the rest would prob- 
ably be expended before Sunday evenipfi^ On 
Mondav their bit of finery would have to wan- 
der back to the money-lender, and the remainder 
bf the week would be spent in rags and priva- 
tion. Thousands of the poor Irish live thus, 



nd aa' expeoaif» way tf Mviog it AOst be,4iitr 
tag that M> many paWttbiokem aad pawobroken 
assistants are maintaiiied almost excltiauFely om 
of the enrniBgs of the poor. w 

A Saturday in an Irish town, and indeed in 
every town, of the United Kingdom, is a day «f 
great lite and bustle among the humbler ctassee. 
The silent joyless Sunday is at hand, the lar 
bour of the week is over, money Ss plentiful, aad 
the consequence is that half ih» popnlatioii may 
always be seen, on a Saturday evening, movliig • 
about till midnight, gossiping, jestiag, baying, 
carousing. The shof» remain open till mu- 
night, and, as nothing is to be had on the follow- 
ing day, the poor must make their purchases on 
the Saturday, if they would provkiea better dift- 
ner for Sunday than for ordinary days.- SatiW- 
day evening is thus the most important part of 
the week to the small dealers, particularly to 
those who traffic in the various kinds of pKivie>- 
ioBs. 

The beggars, too, make their harvest ««i a 
Saturday evening, as one of them acknowledged 
when examined by a magistrate in Dublin. It 
is the poor who are, in genetal, most liberal to 
the mendicants, and it ts on the Saturday -that 
the poor man. can most easily bestow his gifis^ 

When first .1 came into an English town o» a 
^turday evening, I thought an iBsurmctioa 
must just have broken out, or must at least be 
on the point of doing so. The streets were 
crowded with busy and eager multitudes, all of 
the humbler classes, and one might suppose tlmt 
if a spark had but feilen. among these masaes 
they would instantly have borst into a flame. 
Yet there were sparks enoc^h, ay and inflam- 
matory torches, burning hannlessly arovnd. 
That very evening, for instance, at every comer, 
and under every lamp of Limerick, was posted 
up a proclamation, issued by the friends of 
O'Connell, ealliag upon the Insh nation, in the 
name of the great agitator^ to repair to a meetlsff 
^hat was to be held in a few days, and at whieh 
be was to harangue the people. Over the proc- 
lamation was printed in laige letters: 

<<bepbal! bepea;.! repeal! 

" Up, citizens of Limerick and Irishmen aM ! 
Up and bestir yourselves for a separation from 
England! Up for your native right of a sepa- 
rate, parliament ! The immortal (sici) 0*CoB- 
nell will appear among you. He calls npon 
you. He needs your aid in Erin's cause. Be 
firm and united, and cease not, like hio^selfj lo 
watch onceasiogly over the welfare of your 
country, and to be ever active in our great, com« 
mon, patriotic struggle." ^ 

This document then went on, in yet strongs 
language, to call upon the people to assemble in 
greai nutnbers on the appointed day, to lay in a 
warm stock of patriotism, and above all not to 
be backward in their peconianr contributions. 

Limerick has many fine bufldings and public 
institutions, bat all of modem erection, and just 
like what a traveller may see in other towns in 
Ireland and England. In Oakway; however, the 
metropolis of the wild west, and an Hesperian 
colony, he will find a more quaint and pecultar 
city, with antiquities sach as he will meet with 
nowhere else. The M town is throughout of 
Spanish architecture, with wide gateways, broad 
Stairs, arched passages, and all the fentastic or- 
naments cateulated to carry th^ imagination 
back to Granada and Valencia. Then the town, 
with its monks, churches, and convents, hai^ « 



lEEUAND. 



SI 



swe completely catholic air, and the popnlatios 
of the adjoining country liave preserved some, 
thing of Uieir picturesque national costume. 1 
aim ttorjiy I was not able to visit tlie place, and 
^isly myself of the trolb of all the marvels told 
me respecting it ; and it was also with much re- 
gret that I forbore from visiting a German colo- 
ny, that settled in the county oi' Limerick about 
tne beginning of the last century. The settlers 
were from the Palatinate, and their descendants 
are still called Paiatioates, though they have 
tost the language of their fathers. They have 
not, however, lost the German character for 
good order and honourable dealing, and are 
luuiced on as the best farmers in the country. 
'*They are most respectable people," said an 
Irish lady to me, *f and much wealthier and liar 
better oa than any of their Irish neighbours." 

It is a constant subject of discussion in Ire- 
land, between the Irish patriots and the adhe- 
rent«) of the English, that is between the Celto- 
manes and the Anglomanes^ whether the misery 
and poverty of Ireland ought to be auributed to 
the tyranny and bad government of the English, 
or whether th^ indolence and want of energy oi 
the Irish themselves be not in a great measure 
to blame. Now the prosperity of this German 
colony, though subject to the same laws and in- 
> floences as the native Irish, would seem not to 
deeide the question in favour of the friends of 
the Celts, upon the whole, however, there are 
Hot many Germans in Ireland, not even in Dub- 
lin. They were probably never more numerous 
there than during the rebdlioa in 1798, when 
several regiments of Hanoverians were employ- 
ed in the country, and their presence in such a 
form may not have left a very favourably im- 
pression respecting them on the public mind. 

'PROM UMERICK TO EDENVALE. 

In company with an Irishman, who joined me 
is the hire of a car, I started on the following 
day, a fine Sunday moniiiig, to pay a visit to a 

4lriend of mine, a landholder in the neighbour- 
hood of Ennis, the capital of the county of Clare. 
The road lay at first along the Shannon, and 
then over a plain < said to be of the most fertile 

- soil ID Ireland. The appearance of the country 
-was beaatifol, and wherever the ground was 
slightly elevated, a fine riew was obtained of the 
«nrrounding landscape, including the beautinil 
Shannon and its numerous islands. By the side 
of thte river, and partly sarronnded by ft, lay the 
lock Carrigognnal, celebrated for its fairies, who 
take delight In surprising a mortal upon the rock, 
and making him partake of their hospitality. 

We passed close by the Ivy-mantled ruins of 
Bunratty Castle, whence whole swarms of ra- 
vens issued at our approach, and a little farther 
on we came to the celebrated Ctuin Abbey. " In 
short," said my travelling companion, *'you see 
we have no lack of ruins in Ireland. The coun- 
try was divided among a number of chiefs, who 
dwelt in these castles, and made war on each 
other. In a word, it was in those days here jast 
as it is in your country at the present time. 
Murder and homicide were the order of the day 
even more than they are now, and the life of a 
Bobleroan was valued at forty shillings, and that 
of a peasant at six. That too is an old German 
law, I (ancy. But youVe no Milesian families 
io Qermany ; no, there's no people can boast of 
that but the Irish. And indeed it's somethihg 
very particular to he a member of such a family. 



Such a one may go forty days without food; at 
least that* s the received opiiiion among the peo- 
ple of Ireland. Faith, it you look yonder you 
may see a woman who, though of no royal «ace, 
would fast more than forty days for you any day 
you like. I sav" Qurnrng to the driver), *» ihat^ 
Worisheen, isnn it i" 

"Oh, sure enough, who else should it be but 
Norisheen V 

"Now, that Norisheen,*' resumed my com- 
panion, "is a legislator. We might consult 
her about the interests of the country. Indeed 
she knows more^than most legislators, for she's 
as familiar with the future as the past." 

I looked and saw an old woman attired in 
rags, and clinging to a wall by the side of a ru- 
inous hut. She was repairing her mound of 
turf, for it is usual among the Irish to pile up 
their turf round their cabins, in the form of hign 
and thick walls, thus making the turf warm 
them twice, first by keeping off the wind, and 
secondly by mouldering to ashes on the hearth. 

My companion and the driver hailed the old 
wonian as we jmssed, and she setumed the sa* 
lute, clinging with one arm to the wall, and wa- 
ving the other in the air, in token of recognition. 

" There's a learned woman for you, sir," cried 
the driver. " It's she that knows the history of 
every family in Ireland, and all that happened 
in the country long before the birth of Christ. 
Aye, and shell prophesy the future for you as . 
easily as the past, for she knows every creature 
for many miles round, and there's little goes on 
even at Carrigognnal that she han't an inkling 
of." 

Then half in earnest, half in jest, my compan- 
ions told me so many marvels of Norisheen, 
that I was sorry I had not made her acquaint- 
ance. I asked whether O'Connell and the old 
Woman were known to each other. It was like- 
ly chQugh, they thought, that O'Connell might 
have he^rd of her, but it was certain that she 
knew him, for she had prophesied fiily years ago 
that such an O'Connell would come; and now, 
though perhaps she contributed nothing to the 
tribute^ she was one of his warmest partisans. 
It is of no Ii^le importance to O'Connell to have 
the witches of Ireland on his side, and there are 
many old crones like Norisheen in the four 
provinces. 

I was grieved as I passed on the Sunday 
through several towns to see so many poor fel- 
lows loitering about, and on the look out fpr 
work. They were most of them in their Sun- 
day attire, but with their spades In their hands, 
and stood grouped about the churches and mar- 
ket-places waiting to be hired to dig potatoes. I 
was shocked at the sight ol such sad and serious 
multitudes, and all unemployed. 

Clare is a poor and ruinous place, that re- , 
minded me of the Polish and Lithuanian cities. 
Though it bear^ the name of the county, it is no( 
the chief town, that honour being enjoyed by 
Ennis, a much more orderly and prosperous- 
lookin? place, and celebrated in the history of 
Ireland, on account of the extraordinary excite- 
ment that accompanied the election of O'Con- 
nell for the county of Clare, in 1828->an elec- 
tion that immediately preceded, and in a great 
measure contributed to bring about, Catholle 
Emancipation. 

Clare is also famed as the tiative county of 
the great Irish family of the O'Bfieus, of whoit 
representatives are, indeed, scattered over evenr 
part of Ireland, bot ia Clar? it i» that (be^ » 



s» 



IRELAND. 



«.«at abound. Here stands Drammolent Castle. 
;tbeseat of one of the wealthiest of the clan, and 
here also stood once Kincora Castle, the resi- 
<)ence of the most celebrated of all the O'Briens, 
the great king Brian-Bora, the pride not only ot 
his race, but of his country. He is said to have 
defeated the Danes in Gfiy battles, and his fame 
stiH lives IVesh and green in the poems and le- 
gends of the people. Many O'Briens after him 
Hrere kings of Munster : at present they are con- 
tent to te members or Parliament. In every 
county in Ireland you find some family of pre- 
dominant weight, and tirhose njime recurs in al- 
most every town and village. 1 shall often have 
opportunities of speaking of such families. 

EDENVALE. 

This is one of the prettiest country-seats in 
the county of Clare, and I have every reason to 
congratulate mvself on having accepted an invi- 
tation tv spend ä few days with the owner, an 
influential proiestant landholder. The Britoqs, 
including tne Irish, certainly understand better 
than any other people the art of selecting an ap- 
propriate site for a country-seat, and then con- 
vening it into a kind of paradise. The French 
and Dutch allow too little of nature to remain in 
their gardens, end around our German country- 
seats we have somewhat too much of its wild- 
ness. The ^glish know better how to combine 
nature and art in their domestic landscapes. 

The art of gardening ma)rnot be brought to 
such perfection in Ireland as in England, but the 
climate of Ireland is more favourable to vegeta- 
tion, and where the Irish gardener does his best, 
9U Irish garden will often surpass in beauty even 
those of England. The main charm of English 
gardens consists in their profusion of evergreen*!., 
and of these, Irelandj with its milder clirriate| 
has a greater variety than England. 1q the 
north of France it is only here and tbore that an 
evergreen is to be met with, anil fruitless at- 
tempts have been made there to domesticate va« 
rious kinds jhat are quite common in England 
and Ireland, among others the holly. In Ii^laad 
the arbutus grows wild, besides other everereens 
that will not bear the climate of England. Even 
in the extreme nprth of Ireland most of these 
plants thrive, and that in the same degree of lat- 
itude in wbich, in Poland and Lithuania, the fir- 
tree is the only evergreen known in the country. 

On my arrival, I found my worthy host bu.sy 
with his trees and flowers, and we immediately 
undertook a Utile tour round the lovely glen on 
the margin of which his house is situated. One 
of the most remarkable spectacles that presented 
itself during my visit, was a complete eclipse of 
^e sun, caused bv an immense flight of rooks. 
Never in my life had i seen so many bird» col- 
lected together. It was as if all the feathered 
tenants of the hundred thousand ruined castles, 
abbeys, and towers of Ireland l^ad assembled to 
hold a motister meeting. The silent glen was 
at once filled by their. loud and discordant cries, 
and their droppings poured down like a shower 
of hail J and jet the mhabitants of Eden vale as- 
sured me the spectacle was no uncommon one, 
the rooks having long made the glen one of their 
favourite, haunts. It. was at least an hour before 
the^ihj cpncert was at au end, and the air clear 
of the ungainly vocalists, and when the swarm 
had passed, I felt as if a thunderstorm had rolled 
away. 

These rooks, as the English call them, may 



be seen Itt cooatless nmnbei» about old ehnrefc- 
yattls and antique maasions, and even in Lon- 
don there are ** rookeries." The English shoot 
these rooks, and rook-shooting is included ift 
the list of rural apdhs. Rookrpies are evea 
reckoned among the delicacies of an Bnglisk 
table, but the dainty morsel is one that no ibr- 
eigner need regret his ignorance of; and here 
the Irish are of my mind— for ofteuj after point- 
ing at a flight of rooks, they would tell me witk 
a mingled feeling of contempt and disgust, *' the 
English soldiers here shoot them and make pies 
of them." 

In England, where servants are kept at a 
proper distance, it is seldom that ^ey venture 
on the familiar impertinence of which I saw fre- 
quent instances in Ireland. My worthy friend's 
coachman, a weH-fed, merry-looking fellow, ao 
companied us through the stables and thnm 
buildings, aAid pointed out every remarkable oIh 
ject to my attention, with a constant flow of ^|o. 
quence, while his master followed modesjuy b^ 
hind us. 

" This stable, you see, sir," nioc^eeded Xinb 
coachman, "«y« finished last ye^^r. And ^ deal 
of trouble it cost us, for wc- had to .t^n hr 
btowine away the whole o*l the rock Cnere But 
we shall have a beautif»il prospect ibr our pains 
when the trees yonder have been cut down, ^ad 
look down there, your hono/ar. all them is bis 
dominions (pointing to 'ais master), and ii^ twa 
months hell have f^raished the new building he 
has begun. Now no English servant would 
u^ ^l *^/»*»"y f«e with his master, and v«t 
the Irish sr.]^ant8 are taken from a far more cte- 
pendap;, class than the English peasants. 

A.1 Eden vale I heard of another old womaa 
'.o whom popular belief ascribed supernatural 
powers. Her name was Consideen, and I met 
with her in a neighbouring cabin, into which I 
entered in the course of one of my excursions. 
Leaning on a stick, the okl octogenarian propheU 
ess sat by the turf fire of her tiriend. She loM 
me sh« had often seen Death, leaning on tw* 
crotches, and standing at the end of the meadow, 
when any of her family was about to die. Old 
as she was, she said, she knew she shouk) not 
die yet awhile, for Death would be isnre to come 
and give her warning when her time drew near. 

Almost every oki woman among the (risk 
peasantry has her visions, and believes in them. 
firmly. "Oh, your honour," said mv compaa- 
ion, who had shown me to the hut, <** if you conkl 
but hear those two old women talk together, 
vou'd be astonished at the hundreds of beantifai 
histories they know how to tell. But you'll 
strange to them, and that makes them backward 
in their speaking." * 

I had heard of a place in the neighbourhood 
that was looked on as a gathering ground of the 
fairies, and prevailed on some of the people to 
show me the way there. On the summit of a 
rocky hill we found a piece of greeniswaid about 
two hundred paces in circomferetice. This, I 
was told, was the spot sacred to the good people. 
« And^have y<^u ever seen the fairies With your 
own eyes 1" asked I. " Whole swarms of them, 
your honour, and many a time too,." they an- 
swered in chorns. "For my part," observed 
one, " I haVe al^i^ays takeii toleriatite care to 
avoid them, bat once they played the an ugly 
trick for all that. They led me idtd an out-dT- 
the-way place, where I lost myself, and stula- 
bled over a thing that looked like the root of an 
old tree, and by the same token I broke my Ut- 



1E£LANI>. 



4ie tngtr Miere." <« Tken wliju^do yon eaU ttan 

food people if thef 4o yoii so mqch mi8chiel'1[ 
ahouid rather call them wicked people/' ** May 
b^, yuar hoBoitr, I ibad given them someoflfence 
nnlCQowa to myself. Aad may be it was kiad 
of them to let me off with, a broken finger. I 
woulda't call them what your honour oaU&them 
for a great deal. 1 shoalda't lika to vex them 
so." 

Daring that same walk I visited the stately 
mansions .of some of my host's neighbours. 
These houses looked to me mach more suited 
for spectral risitation than the fairy meadow 1 
had ittst leß. Scarcely a soul dwelt m them, 
and tne rooms were silent like so many graves. 
The owiiers were absentees, who spent their 
Irish revenues in Englanu or on the continent« 
These spectral palacei^ 1 am SQrry tp say, are 
almost as abunclant iu Ireland, as fairy grounds 
and ruined castles. The rich Protestant land- 
owners, feel themselves uncomibriable on many 
accounts among their Catholic tenanjts. The 
wildness of the country is not easily remedied,., 
(he barbarism of the people leads tliem often, to 
muiderous acts of vengeance against their land- 
loids; greater attractions are unquestionably to 
be foiind in English socie^ ; the peasantry are 
often divided into hostile »ctions, and perhaps 
many a Protestant may not b^ insensible to the 
injustice of which the wealthier class are guilty 
towards their poorer countrymen. ^All these 
causes, cbmbini^ to keep, so many wealthy 
Irish proprietors out of their country, may have 
given rise to the universally lamented evil ot' 
absenteeism. There are families, also, that 
have estates in England as well as in Ireland, 
and who naturally prefer leskling in the former 
country. Those glentlemen, however, are all 
the more deserving of our esteem,, wbo remain 
at home, wheve it is hardly possible that they 
ahottld not ia some measure ameliorate the lot 
of their poor tenants. There are, after all, many 
'of these voluntary martyrs, and my .hospitable 
boat of Edenvalef being one of them, t relumed 
imm my walk with feelings of increased esteem 
for him, nor ^as it without some regret that I 
look leave of bim on the Ibäo wing niormiig. 

KILRÜ9H AND FATHER ifilATHBW. 

The county westward of Ennis and Eden vale 
is the dark side of the county of Claoe, the wildest, 
.poorest, and most barren part of it, I had, nev- 
ertheless, two inducements for visiting these wild 
XBgions. First, 1 bad heard that the celebrated 
Father Mathew was on bis w^y to Kilrush, the 
most easteriy town on the Shannon ; and sec- 
ondly, in the vicinity of this town lies the island 
of Scattery, on which stands one of the finest of 
the Irish *Ulou ad Towers," and, again, the. ru- 
ins of " Seven Churches." 

From Edenvale to Kilrush the d£stahce is 
about sixteen English miles, and along the whole 
way, though this was the main road S)r the east- 
erb part of the country, I passed not a single vil- 
lage, nor a single hUt fit for a human habitation. 
The landscape, was everywhere naked and tre6- 
Jess;' the colour of the soil W^s the most melan- 
choly that can be imagined ^ black, or| ^ dirty 
bro«Wi'— for one great bog seemed to cover all 
things, even the rocks. |f it made me sad, how- 
ever, huw much sadder must such a country 
make the poor gU^a adtßriplust t^® vassal of a 
bard landlord, the. lather of a group of starving 
«lggedebildc«al 



la Uanmuji, In Earbonia, in l^itbnania, aad ia 

many of the other couhtrieis of Eastern Europe» 
one sees habitations of great wretchedness, bat 
such miserable cabins as I beheld in this parr of 
Ireland, L^caicely remember to have seen evea 
in the coumries I have mentioned. The fields 
that lay around these abject teneibents, were ev- 
idently cultivated with the utmost carelessness, 
stwk generally without any fence whatever, ez- 
eejDt the adjoining bog, < 

I remember, when I saw the poor Lettes in 
Livonia, I used to pity them for having to live 
in huts built of the unhewn logs of trees, th6 
brevices being stoj^ped up with tnoss. I pitied 
them on account ot their low doors; and their di- 
minutive windows, and gladly would 1 have ar- 
ranged their chimneys fur them in a more suit- 
able manner. Well, Heaven pardon my igno- 
rance ! X knew not that I should ever see a peo- 
gle on whom Almighty God had imposed yet 
eavier privations. Now that I have seen Ire- 
land, it seems to me that the poorest among the 
JLettes, the Esthonians, and the Fialanders, lead 
a life of comparative comfort, and poor Paddj 
would ieel like a king with their houses, their 
habiliments, and their daily warfare. 

A wooden house, with mossito stop up its 
crevice^ would he a palace in the wild regions 
of Ireland. < Paddy's cabin. is built of earth ; one 
shovelful over the other, with a few stones min- 
sAed here and there, till the wall is high enough. 
But perhaj)s you.will say, the roof is thatchedor 
covered with barki Ay, indeed! A few sods 
of grass cut from a neighbouring bog are his only 
thatch. Well, but a window or two at least, if 
it be only a pane of glass fixed in ;the wall 1 or 
the bladoec of some auimal, or a piece of talc, as 
may oAen be seen in a Walacbian hut 1 What 
idle luxury were this! There are thousands of 
cabins in wbich. uot a trace of a window is to be . 
seeu^ nothing but a little .square hole in front, 
which doubles the duty of dooK, > window, and 
chimney ; light, smoke, pig^ and children, all 
must pasj^ in and putroi the same aperture I 

A French author, Beaumont, who had seen 
the. Irish peasant in his cabiUj. and the North 
American Indiaain his wigwam; has assured us 
that the. savage is better prov;ided ibr than the 
Doorman in. Ireland. . Inde^ the question may 
oe. raised, whether in the whole world a nation is 
to be found that is subjected to such physical pri- 
vations, as the peasantry iasome parts of ire- 
land^ This iact cannot b^ placed in loo strong 
a light, for if it can pnce be shown that the 
wretchedness of the Irish peculation is without 
a parallel example on tbe g^obe, surely every 
friend of humanity will feel himself called on to 
reflect whetlier means may.not be found for rem^ 
edyfiuz an evil of sq astounding a magnitude I 

A Russian peasftntjjio doubt, is the slave of 
a. harder master, but still be is fed and boused to 
bis content, and no trace of mendicancy is to be 
seep in him.' The Hungarians. are certainly not 
among, the best used people, in the. world; still, 
what , fi^e ^heaten bresad, and what ;wiae, has 
even the ^umblest amopg them for his daily 
fai»,! . TJ^c Hungarian would scarcely believe 
it, if he n^ere to be told there was a country iu 
which Uie inhabitapts i^i^sf coptentirthemseivca ' 
with potatoes every alternate day in the year. 

Servia and Bosnia are reckoned among the 
most wretched countries of Europe, aUd certain- 
ly the appearance of one of their villagies has lit- 
tle that is attractive about it ; but at least the 
people,ifbad]y housed» are well clad. We look 



81 



lAELANB. 



not for mtich Inxniy or comfort snnoogr the 
Tartars of the Crimea; tee cafl them T>our aikl 
barbarous, but good heavens! they Iook at least 
like human creatures. They have a oat tonal 
costume, their houses are habitable, their or- 
chards are carefully tended, and their gayly- 
harnessed ponies are mostly in good coTidiiron. 
An Irishman has nothing national about him but 
his rags, his habitation is without a plan, his do- 
mestic economy without rule or law. We have 
beggars and paupers among us, but they form at 
least an exception; whereas, in Ireland, beggary 
or abject poverty is the prevaihng rote. The 
nation is one of beggars, and they who are above 
be^ary seem to form the exception. 

The Al'rican negroes go naked, but then they 
have a tropical sun to warm them. The Irish 
are little removed from a state of nakedness and 
their climate, though not cold, is cool, and ex- 
tremely humid. 

The Indians in America Ihre wretchedly 
enough at times, but they have no knowledge of 
a better condition, and, as they are hunters, they 
have every now and then a productive chase, 
and are able to make a number of feast-days in 
the year. Many Irishmen have but one day on 
which they eat flesh, namely, on Christmas day. 
Every other day they feed on 'potatoes and no- 
thing but potatoes. Now this is inhuman; for 
the appetite and stomach of man claim rariety 
in food, and nowhere else do we find human be- 
ings gnawing, from year's end to year's end, at 
the same root, berry, or weed. There are ani- 
mals who do so, but human beings, nowhere ex- 
cept in Ireland. 

There are nations of slaves, but they have, by 
long custom, been made unconscious of the yoke 
of slavery. This is not the casö with the Irish, 
who have a strong feeling of liberty within them, 
and are fully sensible of the weight of the yoke 
they have to bear. They are intelligent enough 
to know the injustice done them by the distoned 
laws of their country; and while they are them- 
selves enduring the extreme of poverty, they have 
frequently before them, in the manner of life of 
their English landlords, a spectacle of the most 
refined luxury that human ingenuity ever in- 
vented. 

What awakens the most paitiful flings in 
travelling through one of these rocky, boggy 
districts, rich in nothing but ruins, is this: 
whether you look back into the past, or forward 
to the future, no prospect more cneerine presents 
itself There is not the least trace left to show 
that the country has ever been better cultivated, 
oir that a happier race ever dwelt in it. It seems 
as if wretchedness had prevailed therefrom time 
immemorial; as if rags had succeeded rags, bog 
had formed over bog, ruins had given birth to 
iruins, and beggars had beeotten beggars, for a 
long series of centuries. Nor does the future 
present a more cheerina: view. Even for the 
poor Greeks under Turkish domination there 
was more hope than for the Irish under the Eng- 
lish. The Turks were never more than a garri- 
son in Greece ; the English have struck the deep- 
est roots into all parts of Ireland, and by so many 
links has the conquest been riveted upon the na- 
tive race, that it is too painful to contemplate 
even for a moment the only means by which the 
present state of things can be altered. 

What a revolution would follow If merely 
those famines were deprived of their estates 
who are known to have acouired theth by vio- 
ftm or dishonoonble means I The descendants 



> 6f the lighffvl oWiUiri ttre. In many «äse» tüttt 
living, and well known; but to right all tbe^e* 
wrongs wonld plunge so many thousands into 
misery, and give rise to so many wide-spread 
calamities, that every one must wish to see the 
levelling hand of Time obliterate these painful 
recollections. 

In the next place, as the English and their in- 
justice are not alone in fault, but the main root 
of Irish misery is to be »ought in the indolence, 
teviiy, extravagance, and want of energy of the 
national c|iaracter, the euestion arises, How 
shall we inspire the people with a new mindl 
How shall we instil into them industry and per- 
severance ; and how shall we eradicate the tur- 
bulent and revengeful, spirit, which leads thetn 
to muräer their oppressors, whereby they but 
aggravate their misery, and tighten their bonds 1' 

At times we stopped at a' mean inn to change * 
horsey The walls were generally tapestried 
with proclamations offering rewards for the ap- 
prehension of crimifials. Fiily |>ounds were 
promised for the apprehension of those who'- 
had murdered Farmer So-and-so; thirty pounds 
for information that would lead to. the convic* 
tion of those who had burned a mill, and ill- 
treated the inmates to such a degree, that two of 
them had since died; and many others of lhe> 
same kind. I had not time to read ftll these- 
placards, instructive as they were reapeeting the- 
condition of the country. 

In passing one field, I noticed a £gnre that 
bore a striking resemblance to one of those 
dressed-up mannikins which in Germany we- 
are accustomed to stick up in a cornfield of a 
kitcbeo-garden to IMgfaten away the birds. A 
congregation of rags and tatteis weee flapping 
in the wind, the remains of a hat bung where 
the head ought to have been, and two sticks, for 
legSj projected from his garments. Suddenly 
this figure, which had deceived me while it 
stood still, moved up towaids me to ask ihr 
alms, and I now saw before me the complete 
picture of a well-known spectral apparition that 
was shown in England some years agounderthe 
title of the Living Skeleton. The said Livin^g 
Skeleton, by-tbe-by, came IWm Ireland« Dee» 
the habitual famine of so larepe a portion of the 
population tend to the multipHcatian of sad$, 
morbid specimens of humanity 1 

We carried with us the letter bags intended 
for the several villages and country seats lyiag^ 
away fVom the road. At every stage we saw 
one of these living scarecrows waiting to take* 
charge of the bags intended for die adjoining lo- 
calities. The fxatmen tried to arrang^e their rags 
in a way to protect the correspondence of the 
country from the effects of the weather. As I 
looked on these ragged, starved beings, I could 
not help thinking of the comfortable-looking &U 
lows to whom, in Prussia and Saxony, is en- 
trusted the not unimportant duty of forwardine 
the public correspondence from village to vil- 

iSfot one in a hundred of those who look like 
beggars really beg, still the professional mendi- 
cants are numerous enough, in all öonscienec. 
Most of them are decorated with Father Math- 
ew*s temperance medal, often as a matter of 
speculation, inasmuch as many are disposed to 
give mart liberally to those who, having pledg- 
ed themselves to abstain Item intoxicating ft-- 
quors, ai« thought lees likely to make a bad mm 
of any gift äiat may be bestowed upon then. 
Many {wople in Ireland now tUk» a poi&t ^ 



flMSl^AND. 



if^etf^Tfbg uny alms 16 a hsggaf who bamioi 
show bis temperance loedaL - 

My dri7er on the last stage to Kilnish was: 
larl of fairies and legends, and storied of the 
lieaotiful and happy realms where tfate elfin 
sprites held sway. All' depressed nations are 
apt to indulge m these visions. As we #ere 
rolling in the.dask of Isvening down the hilts, 
and approaching the little town, he to4d me i>f a 
king who had once been conveyed to this happy 
land by the fhiries. This king lived long in the 
blissful regions, but one day a longins came 
over him to see the earth again and mingle with 
itaien. The fairies thereupon gave him an en- 
chanted hors&, and told him that as long as he 
continued on his horse's back he wottld enjoy 
unimpaired youth and vigour^ as he had done 
daring the SiOO years he had spent with them, 
but that the spell would be brosen the naooient 
he set his foot on the earth. The king was de- 
lighted to see his old mother earth again, but 
took especial care not to quit the saddle, till he 
arrived in front of his own palace, where he 
had formerly been wont to command. Rkiing 
into the couityai^, he saw another king com* 
mantling there, and was very little pleased with 
the commands that this other king was issuing. 
Eager to set his successor to right,' the new-com^- 
er toTgot himself for a moi&ent. He sprang in- 
dignantly from the saddle, and while yet de- 
scending through the air, he became oonseious 
of his imprudence, and uttered a scream of de- 
spair. As he touched the ground his gracef«), 
manly fonn shrunk into the deerapitude of 900 
years, and, unable to exist under so heavy a 
we^ht of years, he immediately gave up the 
ghost. The enchanted horse, meanwhile, had 
vanished, but the new king recognised his pred- 
ecessor by a golden medal round his neck, and 
caused a splendid ttsonument to be erected to 
•his memory. 

I am convinced that a diligent cc^ecror in Ira- 
.and might easiiv find materials for more than 
1001 ni^ts, and that an Irish Sbeheiasade might, 
with her marvellous narratives, have preserved 
'her life qaite«as lon^ as did the Arabian with 
hers. I am surprised that so little has been 
printed of the rich Irish popular poetfy. 

O'Connell, when he moves about in Iralaad, 
'lias always a long tail of admirers after hint. 
A traveller, on arrilring in a new place, is sel- 
dom without a similar tail. If he go to see a 
sight, he may reckon on the attendance of tA 
least a dozen cicerones. Along the high road, a 
little tail of children and beggars will be certain- 
ly rolling behind him, and on entering a unvn 
ms Kttle tail immediately grows into a big one 
by the accession of innkeepers and their waiters. 
In short, every star in Ireland assumes the char- 
acter of a comet. As I drove in^ Kilrush I had 
at least twenty grown people, and twice as many 
children ranning behind my car, some to beg, 
some to recommend inns and shops, some out 
of curiosity, but most of them for the mere fun 
of the thing. 

Kilrush is a small seaport town, and, like all 
seaport towns in Iretand, has fewer rains and a 
greater appearance of freshness and comfort 
man any of the places in the interior. I pat up 
imder the roof of an old sailor who had rought, 
in his time, under Nelson, and now direeted the 
only tolerable hostelry in the place. 

My first walk wfts to the gronnd where Father 

^atnew was to be received. The temperance 

Mkjieties have their plaees 6f inseiäif in evcyy 



«MMi 4d Iraland, and ilitee m called "tempi«» 
aaee halls.'' The tempenmce hall of KttnMJh 
lay in a by-stmet, a small court yard was im 
from of it, and a few steijs M tip to the hoaa» 
door. The hail itself, if t am not mistaken, wa» 
used in the daytime as a national achnol. and tm 
the evening the men of temperance held their 
meetings there. A shilling was demanded ol 
every one who entered, for which he was enti- 
tled, in the evening, to partake of the soiree that 
was to be given. A resident of the town, aai 
one of the most distinguished among the tem«> 
perance men, whose acquaintance I had aW 
ready made, showed me the decorated faall| 
which was 4stili empür. Round about the walla 
hung the banners 6r the several corporate bodies 
of the town, surmounted by mottoes all calco» 
lated to please the popular taste of the time. 
That of the cabinet-makers, for instance, waa^ 
'* Sobriety! Domestic Comfort! and National 
Independence I'' T his inscripcion struck me in^ 
mediately. ** What," 1 asked myself ** has nar 
tional independence to do with temperance^ 
which is a purely moral question 1" i believe^, 
however, that, in. point oi fact, the two eansea 
are more neariy united than is generally sup* 
posed. It appeared to me .as if all these tem- 
perance men were engaged in a conspirai^ 
against English ascendancy. 

Nowhere has the cause oTiempenmce inoreaA* 
herents than in Ireland. Not less than fivemilliow 
of Irish, according to Father Mathew's awn re« 
port, have receiveä the pledge at his bands. '* Our 
temperance socjKty,'' said my eomminion, *^is 
the only genuine one in the world. There were ^ 
temperance societies in America before onn» 
but thev are not the thing after all. They doni 
even adopt the principle of total abstinence, and 
break the pledge very often. But with us, wiien 
Father Mathew has once blessed a man, an^ 
hung the medal round hi.^ neck, he is dedicalod 
to temperance for life, and from that momem 
detests all intoxicating liquors himself, and feela^ 
an aversion to those who continue to drink. So- 
powerful is the effect of our apostle's blessing.*^* 

The Catholic priesthood in Iieland looked at 
first with jeah^usy upon the temperance move» 
ment, set on ii>ot as it wa« by a simple monk;« 
bat they have since yielded to the current, an^ * 
have even plaeed themselves at the head of it^ 
the consequence o( which has been that the 
whole matter has assumed a catholic religioaa 
character.. 

Every great movement in a nation, and eveiy 
widely ramified confederacy, whatever its objeä 
may be, is certain to assaume a politkal charac-* 
t»r, and O'Connell and his patriots could not fait 
to see the great additional strength they wouM 
aeon ire from an accession of so powerful an aox«>^ 
iliary.^ They have, therefore, on all occasions^ 
declared their adhesion to the temperance cause, 
which has thus been made to assume a patriotte 
anti-English character. Temperance, b^ givincr 
to its votaries greater domestic comfort ana 
moral vigour, strengthens their claims and hope» 
of natfonal independence, and the conspiracy of 
temperance and the conspiracy of independeoer^ 
may one day melt into one. 

Garlands and festoons were wound about the- - 
hall. A laige horse-shoe table stood in the een- - 
tre of the room, and boards resting on empty 
casks and blocks of wood were arranged ap 
seats. At the head of the table were two amir 
ehatrs, one for Father Mathew, and one for tha 
j^äBfiipaljßatbfilic prieat «f Ihe placr^ v^ «Mb^ 



IRELANDt 



^met aa chlUn&as. Behind time eMrv a gi- 
Molio coraaeopia was repnsented, Vkb a mal- 
titode of shamrocks falliag out; aaother ai|a- 
aicHi to Irish naUoaaiity. On sidö tables stoiod 
41 eoimUess host of teapots and teacaps, and huge 
rpiles of bread-and-b'jtier, for on all solemn oc- 
casions lea is ihe nectar of the temperance men, 
and bread-and-botter their chief focxi. 

My companion had still many things to ar- 
^xange, so, having seen the haU^ 1 wem out into 
4he yard in front, where two tallow candles fixed 
upon the doorposts threw a weak fliQlrering light 
mpon the assembled moltitnde. Men aod wom- 
en were crowding upon each other;iD the street, 
and boys had perched themselves on the walls 
<and enclosures. I heard mßny people say that 
Father Mathew had already arrived; that a 
deputation of the temperance mei^ had been om 
lo meet him; that be had only gone ^ to rest a 
hit after his joumev" at the house of the priest ; 
and that he would soon make his appearance. 
The enthusiasm of the multitude impressed me 
, with something of a religious awe, and I thought 
of scenes in the history of the apostles, and of 
their descriptions of tbeir journeys, and of the 
Joany small towns they visited. 

father Mathew instituted the Irish Temper- 
HBce Associatien on the 10th of April, 1838, 
since when he has been constantly travelling 
about, like the apostles in Greece and Asia Mi- 
ttor, partlv by his eloquence and encouragement 
to strengthen the fidelity of those already enrolU 
'ed in the great cause, and partly to receive the 
4>tedge from those who wish to become members 
' of the association, on whom he then bestows his 
niedal and blessing. The greater part of the 
{ear he spends in travelling about; the rest at 
'Uork, his usual place of residence. * 

Suddenly the cry rose, *• He comes I he comes I" 
land I heard at the other end of the street one of 
those detestable musical displays with which the 
temperance men generally open their process|ions 
.and solemnities. I ought not, perhaps, to speak 
harshly of anything intended to serve as adecora- 
^ €ion to so good a cause, but, often as I hains heard 
4hese temperance bands, 1 never could bring my 
ekt to discover anything like harmony in their 
.combinations, and, I believe, that if all those 
4rams and trumpets, clarionets and horns, were 
40 repeal their union, and each man to play his 
•own independent tune, the discord could not be 
greater than it is. It is truly a pity that temper- 
ance has, hitherto, allied itself so little to good 
taste. At the cry of " He comes ! he comes I" I 
:repaired to my teacup, which had very ot)liging- 
ly been placed immediately opposite to Father 
^athew's chair. The other friends of temper- 
ance likewise hastened to tak« their places, and 
I observed that of both sexes there was a very 
decided preponderance of young people. , 

The great, the famed apostle of temperance, 
the most prominent man in Ireland, with the ex- 
ception of O'Connell, entered the room. He ad- 
vanced slowly through the crowd, for every one 
^shed to shake hai^ds With him, and he had 
enough to do with his friends to the right and the 
4eft. At last he arrived at his place opposite 
mine, and sat down in his garlanded chaK« I 
was formally ihtroduced to the reverend chair- 
taan, who, in his turn, presented ine to Father 
Maifhew, with whom t exchäneed a few friendly 
words of welcome. He is decidedly a man of a 
disHn^ished appearance, and I was not long in 
comprehending the influence which it was in his 
power to exercise over the peo|Ae. The malti- 



tq4e reqaira a baBdBome>,a»d impoaioe perafpi 
in the individual who is to lead them, ana Father 
Mathew is «nqaestionably handsome.* He is 
nut tall, be is about the same height and figuie 
as Napoleon, and is^ throughout, well built and 
well pipponioned. He has nothing of the 
meager, haggard, Franciscan monk about him; 
but, on the contrary, without being exactly corpu- 
lent, his person is well rounded, and in excellent 
condition. His countenance is fresh and beam- 
ing with health. His^movemenu and address 
are simple and unafiedted, and altogether be has 
something abou]t him that wins for :.t«a the good 
will of those he addresses. Hi>: Vmiires are 
regular, and full of a noble expression > mild- 
ness and. indomitable firmness. His <u«w are 
large, ^d he is apt to keep his glance lma tor 
a long time on the same object. His fo/ehead 
is straight^ high, and commanding, and his nose 
—a part of the face which in some expresses 
such intense vulgarity, and in others so muck 
nobleness and däicacy— 'is particularly hand- 
some,, though somewhat too aquiline. Hia 
mouth is small and well proportioned, and his 
chin round, pcojecting, firm, and large, like Na- 
ppleon*s. 

Although fifly-4bur years old, be is still in po»> 
session) of the fullest bodily and mental vijgour. 
Till about five years ago^e lived as a simple 
Franciscan mpnk, and was very little known 
beyond the circle of his friends. It happened» 
however, that, in 1838, some quakei^ in the city 
of Cork, deploring the wretchedness caused 
aoiong the poorer : classes by their habitual 
drunkenness, determined to establish a temper- 
ance association in that city, and ais the work 
did not proceed well in their hands, they sug- 
gested to Father Mathew (hat he might exercise 
his powers of eloquence most beneficially, if he 
would devote himself to the cause. He did sp, 
and on the 10th of April, 1838, the first Total 
Abstinence Society- waa formed. In p. few years 
his exertion and influence have been enabled to 
raise the cause to its present prosperous condi- 
tion. In 1838, three months ader Uie esUblish- 
meat of the society, 500 membeis had enrolled 
themselves in the association ; in 1840 a million, 
and in 1843 five millions. , It may be questioned 
whether history can present a paraflei to this 
great moral revolution, or whether any man ever 
acquired so great and bright a name in so short 
a time. Political fat|rics and religious dogmas 
have often crumbled together, or been utterly ex- 
tinguished, in a surprisingly short space of time; 
but where shall we find another example of a 
nation rising at the call of an individual, to 
shake off a vice to which it had long seemed to 
be peenliarly wedded 1 to struggle, not against 
privileged classes or priestly domination, but to 
root out its own evil habits, and devote itself to 
a strict system of abstinence 1 A whole nation 
is here doing what a few pious monks only had 
strength of mind to do in the middle age«*. 

In great reforms and revolutions, there have 
ever bpen large classes who derived an immedi- 
ate temporal profit from the change. Many 
princes seconded Lutber*s attempts, to bring 
about a reformation in the chorcb, because there 
were wealthy convents, and large eqciesiastical 
estates to be confiscated. The Fr^ch levolution 
ledl to a division of the domains of the privil^^d 
few, among the insurgent many. The revolu- 
tionary heroes had, therefore, a powerful lover 
atcommaod, when they stirred up the multitoda 
with the pcospaet of enriching themselves at tum 



I&BliAW^. 



iHmk<9iMf&tu. la Ihis Irish teaptmcere&nn^ 
4A the coBtraiy, idl those who ftom the first have 
«noat zeelonslr promoted it, «eem to be keen io 
.« worfcHj poiüt' of new. One -of Father Ma- 
4hew'ä brothers was the owner of a laige distillery, 
in whieh two ciher brothers held shares. His 
eister was married to a great distiller of the name 
-of Harke^ and, in short, all his fiunily seenj to 
teve been connected with distilleries. All tl^sf 
TCopke have been seriously inj uredin. their world- 
ly prosperity by the reforn^ brought about by 
Uieir distingaisbed relative, but this considera- 
tion has in no way induced him to relax in his 
exertions to promote what he believes to be tl^e 
general good. The distillers, brewers, and pub- 
licans were a more e^iensire and numerous, 
class in Ireland than in any^ other counfry, atid 
'^weye in a position to- exercise great iunuehce 
over their humbler fellow-countrymen. The no* 
biliiy and cletgy, too. must have beenlpsers itf 
'4he first instance; ana then what eiiormöus loss- 
•es must not the government have sustained in 
' its levenue (ro)ta the excise 1 The advantages 
to be obtained eventually firom more sober and 
orderly subjects and tenants presented them- 
selves only m a distant perspective. And, then, 
the people themselves! Were they not called 
tipon to renounce what had long been almost 
their only solace in* a world of wretchedness? 
They were lo devote themselves to an habitual 
■sobriety, cakulated to make them the more deep- 
ly conscious of their oppressed condition, and 
lurfdii^g out only remote hopes of temporal gain. 

Advantages were indeed neld out to those who 
would associate themselves to the cause, but the 
advantages were of so unearthly a nature, as, 
under ordinary circumstances, would have had 
but few charms in the eyes of sinful men. Or- 
^er, industry. Virtue, domestic hapmness, and 
the cessation of broils— these, said tae apostles 
of temperance, were the fruits to be gathered 
|h>m sobriety and abstinence. The landlords 
were promised that sober tenants would be more 
y^gular in the payment of their rents, and the 
govemffleitt was told that general habits of tem- 
perance would make the population more order- 
ly and loyal. These were all remote and/con- 
tingent advantages — ^at the outset, all were called 
' on to submit to sacrifices; Nevertheless, the 
people poured in by thousands and hundreds of 
thousands, and readily made the sacrifices re- 
quired of them. From four to eight thousand 
persons oAen toS6k the pledge on the same day, 
and on one day the number amounted even to 
thirteen thousand. Never did the cause of any 
apostle triumph so gloriously in so short a time. 
At his first appearance in Galway, two hundred 
thousand persons collected together to see him, 
10 hear him, and most of them to be enrolled in 
the list of ieetotalism. As the Irish temperance 
association has existed only five years, and has 
during that time (according to Father Mathew's 
^wn account) been joined by five millions of 
members, three thousand new temperance men 
must, on an average, have been enrolled every 
day. 

These are circumstances well calculated to 
awaken our wonder; and, I repeat it, we shall 
scarcely find in history any parallel to them. 
The thing seetns to me tobe niore honourable 
to the Irish nation than all'that has hitherto been 
told of them:' At the same-time, it trrastnot be 
supposed that the great reform is effected wholly 
by spiritual appeals to public virtue, or that all 
^who hare associated themselves to the eauae «f I 



srnbiiatYJbli^bQtiiaQtiifaQdo^l^byl _ 

and phuanthfY^pip. motives, ! The Teetoukm, 
like the C)Mrtistd and llep«aleis,:have theirgrsat 
processions, their numerous assemblies and their 
social meetings. On thefte occasitms speeches 
are m^e a^d resoluMooa 4sarriad, songs aie 
sung, and some very bad and.v^ loud moaie 
is played. The passion with which the British 
people take up their principles, and temperance 
among the rest, is often carried to. such extrav- 
agance, aa to give rise to ^n iJitAmperance of a 
new kind. The music at these temperance fee» 
ti^ls is boisterous and bad» the sp«eiches inflsted 
and clamorpus, the meetings are q^en protracied 
to an advanced hour of the nightti^na conclude 
amid the dancing and Jollification .of the some- 
what riotous votaries oTtemperanoe» Moreovei; 
like the leaders of other parties, thfs temperance 
men avail themselves oi that great noisy tnuA- 
pet of the day-*- the periodical press. «Laud- 
atory and exaggerated reports «re' inserted in 
the newspapers ; the " Life of the Very Reverend 
Father Msüihew, with a correct account of his 
miraculous labours in favour of Teetotalism,^ 
is written in various forms, and distributed 
among the people by thousands of copies, and 
numerous tracts are compiled to shQw the inia- 
rious effects of drunkenness, the blessings that 
follow upon temperance, and the future prospecta 
that its establishment would opei^ito Ireland. 
These tracts are not always written in a style 
of apostolic simplicity, but full qf 4he bombasi; 
ostentation, and extravagance by which allpar- 
ty appeals are distinguished in England. Kvea 
the minor theatres are turned to aceopnt, and the 
Life of a Drunkard is represented on the stagey 
the hero being hurried, while under the influence 
of liquor, to the commission of mti^er, and af- 
terwards tied up to a gallows, to the. edification 
of the audience. > 

All this is going on simultaneously wirii file 
fine and inspired discourses of Father Mathew, 
and with the virtuous exertions 4>f others ani- 
mated by the purest enthusiasm for the not^e 
cause; and he is obliged to tolerate and encour- 
age all this, because mankind, and the mankind 
of Great Britain in panicolar, is not easily mo^ 
ved without a little quackery. 

Nor are the motives of ail who join the temr 
perance movement always entirely pure. We 
nave seen that the Irish beggars mount the tee» 
total medal in the hope of recomme^ing them- 
selves the more to the benevolent iSlome land- 
lords take the pledge, by way of setting an ex^ 
ample to their tenants, in the )iope that these, 
when gained over to habits of sobriety, will be 
more regular in the payment of their rents. 
Many are actuated by motives of economy, and ' 
are happv to have so amiable a preteaK for offer- 
ing water instead of wine to their guests, and tea 
instead of punch. With some again fanaticism 
comes into play. They not only imagine their 
souls win be better off in another woHd for their 
temperance iii this, but they a.«cribe to the bless- 
ing of Father Mathew and to the medal which 
he confers, certain salutary and miraculous pow- 
ers, which give tp the medal the chajracter of an 
amulet or talisman. Some of thesis ;tihings aie 
unfavourable, but others take their orjgin in the 
peculiarities of the Irish cbaracter. ^ temper- 
ance movement in Germany wpttk| assoaM 
another bearing. It would never come to total 
abstinence, the religions and almost fanaticid 
enihusissm would fall away, the medal would 
not be sospeaded to eveiy man's aeek, «ad iba 



^•8 fMUhULHJ^. 

«ittttVfttwa» meeliAgft «ad wa^ mMt» mot^ 
igittB way to »«etiBig» of a dittbttiu kind. It in 
«Km, however^ that 1 sfaould letvm to my great 
■taa-fMirty at KtlniAh. 

' 1b the first place the thainoali addressed a 
apeeisäi 10 the meeting. He congratulated ail 
preaent, and the whole town of Kilra»b, on the 
Tiait which the great apostle of teinperande had 
'c<Hideseended to pay them. As often as Father 
Mathew was mentioned, ihe orator bowed re- 
speetlally to him, and spoke of him only as the 
*• great apoaile of temperance," the "great man 
gifted by Grod," or made uae of expressions e^ial- 
fy strong. It struck me (bat FaUier Mathew 
Msoght not to allow these exaggerated flatteries 
to be addressed to him, and that it would be 
more becoming in him to discourage Ihem, in 
'She sanse way that he repudiates the miraculous 
flowers attributed to him by the people ; but the 
Irish seem to delight in a pomp or words, and 
exaggerations of the kind alluded to may be ne- 
cessary to the maintenance of his influence. 

I forgot to say that when he entered the room 
the band struck up the £nglish hymn of triumph, 
*^ See the conquering hero comes T' How is, it 
(possible for any men to be guilty of so absurd 
and misplaced a compliment! 

Father Mathew himself rose next, and ex- 
pressed his» pleasure at finding himseKf once 
more among the townsmen of Kil rush. He was 
glad to see those who at his former visit had 
taken the pledge at his hands, assembling so nu- 
merously around him, and be rejoiced to hear 
that' they had- remained faithful tothe engage- 
nents into which they had entered. Then amid 
eonstam marks of enthusiasm, and incessant 
cries of" hear, hear !'' he proceeded to speak of 
the fH'ogress of the great causte. He gave a cir- 
cumstantial account of his last journey to Glas- 
' gow, where, he said, eighty thousand persons of 
all sects had come to meet him, and (hough he 
was bat a worthless straw on the great stream of 
temperance, he was received there by all as ifke 
^M been an nmgdfrom Heaioen» 

Father Matbew's. eloquence is often spc^n of 
.with great admiration. He has, in fact, a fine 
dear voice, a glowing ze^, and a firm convic- 
tion of the sacredness of his cause. . Neverthe- 
less, he hesitates at times, and even stammers, 
and looks, as if he found it impossible to.con- 
4iier the difilcalty of some wOra or idea. His 
a^eeh is interrupted, bis tongue no longer obeys 
mm, the construction of his sentences becomes 
confused, the colour mounts to bis £ace, and his 
üne countenance becomes even distorted. He 
makes some convulsive eflbrts, and the rapid 
movement of his hands is expressive of his em- 
• ]barra.Nsment. After a few remarks, however, 
lie recovers himself; bis thoughts begin to flow 
agajn. the new idea is bom, the fluency of 
apeech returns, and the harangue proceeds in the 
same melodious tones, and with the same rich- 
ness of thought as at first. This occasional hes- 
itation on the part of the speaker, does not, how- 
ever, in my opinion, weaken the interest of his 
hearers; on toe contrary, the interest is heigh- 
tened ; indeed, I believe, that a slight defect or 
irregularity in anything really beautiful, increas- 
«s our admiration for the object itself. 

Father.Mathew has a fine and delicate hand,, 
«ad dresses well, almost elegantly. His whole 
^[»peaiance and deportment are perfectly gentle- 
iMmly, whicb is the more remarkable as his ef- 
f>rta and discourses have always beea chiefly 
dttKCted to the kmnbter classes» and men wii9^ 



«Im at popidaiily amiaig the miililtiAe:m»«pr 
to afieet a certain eyaieism by way of iagntia- 
tlBg themselves with those whom they address. 
(yConnell may be cited as an instance, whose 
dei^eaäonr is the very reverse of anything aris- 
tocratic. 

Arakl loud, general, and endfess applause. 
Father Mathew resumed his seat, the noise be- 
ing quite as great as on his entrance. There 
was clapping of hands, kicking with feet, roar- 
ing, screaming, and amid all the tumult the 
trumpets endeavoured to obtain a bearing again. 
There was one corpulent old gentleman, one of 
the leading men of the place, down whose broad 
forehead the tea he had drank seemed to be 
sending the perspiration in roHing drops: be 
thought, apparently, it was impossible tnere 
could be too much cheering, ior be kept inces- 
santly waving his handkerchief, and shouting 
out " Again t again {" But these things are an 
indispensable accompaniment to tempenance in 
Ireland. 

At every interval between the speeches, the 
temperance band in the gallery played Irish and 
English national melodies, but though their 
leader beat time most indefaitigably, he found 
it impossible to keep his performers together. 
While this was going on we drained our c«ps 
in quick succession, and* the conversation was 
kept up round the table with mueh animation. 
I asked Father Mathew whether he had no in- 
tention of extending his labours beyond Ireland 
and Scotland. He replied that he had long con- 
templated visiting some parts of Germany, and 
would have done so, but for his ignorance of 
the language. For my own part I believe lie 
will scancely extend his efforts beyond those 
places in England where his. countrymen have 
formed numerous cronies. He will have auite 
enough to do to keep the machine going Which 
he has set in motion. 

A number of young w^>men».and some lovely 
and wicked-looking ones among tbem, crowded 
round the "apostle." Some were sluing by his 
side, some at his f<?et, and some in each other's 
laps, merely for the sake of being nearer to the 
holy man, and now and then touching him. 

Some beautiful old Irish melodies were sung, 
for Ireland, though iu early history has had lit- 
tle interest for the rest of the workl, has received 
tix)m remote ages some melodies of exquisite 
beauty. Nor was there any lack of toast, nor 
did these fail to call forth speeches of more than 
moderate length. The toast proposed with the 
most edifying speech, but by no means received 
with the greatest enthusiasm, was " The Irish 
clergy." 

At the very outset. Father Mathew had inti- 
mated to the various speakers that they were 
bound to abstain from all political allusions. 
" The cause in which they had assembled," he 
«aid, " was the cause of temperance, and among 
men United to promote such an end, religious 
and political subjects of difference ought to be 
studiously avoided." Nevertheless, one of the 
speakers, forgetful of this injunction, alluded to ' 
O'Connell in terms that could not but be offensive 
to thoÄC who were not the admirers of the popular 
tribune. «OMer! ordert" shouted Father Ma- 
thew with a commanding voice. This ought to 
have been done bv the chairman, but as he ne^ 
lected ins duty, i^^ather Mathew lost no time m 
seising the reins, and the prompt and command- 
ing manner in which he did so, and the readiness 
«ith vh^ k« was obeyed, convlnpad me of a» 



IRSLABI». 



.«idpM^meM with whkh hiwn» wont t« «almat« 
«rder in bis assembiies, and of hia siocerity in 
witibiQg to keap so pure and aacred a Gaaae free 
ixom the poIlaUon of tbose pollUcal diaaensioDa 
by which Ireland has the mMottsme to be af* 
jAicted. 

Toward miidniglit, afier a conntlesa sncceaaion 
cf speeches, answers, toasts, and countertoaats, 
Father Mathew retired. The tajbles and teapots 
were iqiaiediaiely put aside, and a ball cotnmen- 
^ed, which must have been kept i^p till a late 
l^oor. foir the .morning was far advanced when I 
^eßrd the temperance band returning home, and 
«till playing their farourile melocues as they 
4pa8sed along the street. 

At nine o'clock on the following momiBg, Fa- 
ther Mathew was again in the field, that is to 
say, in the church, where he read mass, after 
which he administered the pledge to a few hun- 
dred persons who presented themselves for that 
purpose. The medal which he bestows on these 
occasions, and of which mention has so oflen 
been made, is a round piece of pewter, of about 
the size of a five-franc piece. The wdrda of the 
pledge are inscribed upon it, consisting of a sol- 
emn promise to abstain from all totoxicaling U- 
«quors« and to persuade others as much as possi^ 
Die to do the same. Some wear their nftedals 
constantly as a kind of amulet, others place them 
round the necks of their little children, who are^ 
oAen made to pledge themselves to abstain fit>m 
a vice, the nature of which they are scarcely 
able to comprehend. In the same way the Rus- 
«ans take their children to the communion-table, 
long before the little creatures can have any con«^^ 
-oeptioa of the nature of the sacrament A which 
they are made partakers. 

Highly gratised by the opportunity I had en< 
joyed oi making the acquaintance of the great 
apostle of teetotalism, the *<gifted divine," and 
' vith silent but sincere wishes for his farther suc- 
eesa, I left the little town of Kilrush. The ques- 
tion that suggested itself to me was, whether a 
Telbrmation so triumph^tly begda was likely to 
be permanent. Much of the triumph is person- 
al to Father Mathew. He it is m whom the 
|)eople place confidence. From him alone will 
they receive the pledge, and his blessing alone 
has a binding power in their eyes. His ^o- 
quence, his ifidefatigable activity, his eneigetic 
enthusiasm, keep the thit^ together, and main- 
tain the singular enchantment by which so many 
of the evil spirits of Ireland are held in restraint. 
Every one must wish for a long, continuaiirce of 
the good and able man's life, but his last hour 
must come sooner or later« and then, the ques- 
tion is, will the good work long survive ham 1 
The past history of the Irish people affords ns no 
clue to guide us to a solution ; we are reduced 
to mere speculations, based on the national char- 
acter and on the nature of the reform itself. The 
former holds oat fewer hopes to us than the lat- 
ter. T^e Irish hare at all times been addicted 
to excess and extravagance; they are naturally 
deficient in energy, and they Hve under great op- 
pression. These circumstances are all calcula- 
ted to seduce to drunkenness, and the main fea- 
tures of a nation's character are not easily chan- 
-ged. In the next place, an Irishman is^ eodowaed 
with an astonishing fund of superstition, and a 
belief in the divine mission of Father Mathew 
may have quite as lar^ a share in the restraint 
■which the people at, present impose upon tbem- 
aelves, as any virtuous resolution they may feel 
to correct their vices. If so, the disappearance 



of th#great magieian from the scene may »lax 
the bomls that now hold the temperance men to- 
other, and everything may sink back into the 
former chaos. 

On the other hand, there is no doubt that the 
temperance association has for the last three or 
four years exercised a salutary retitraint on the 
majority of the Irish nation. This period has 
been quite long enough to make the people feel 
many of the advantages resulting from tneir al- 
tered manner of life. Improved health, domestic 
peace, reduced expendimre, improved condition, 
all these are blessings of whicn the temperance 
man soon becomes conscious after having takea 
the pledge. Othef advantages there are, but of 
a nature less evident to the multitude, »uch aa 
an increased taste for information, an improved 
education of children, and thus eventually of the 
whole nation, a more exalted opinion of inde- 
pendence, and eventually a certain emancipa- 
tion of the humbler classes from their present 
servile and depressed, condition. The leisUra 
which the drunkard spent in a state of brutish 
insensibility, is employed by the temperance 
man in reading, and thus both üme and taste are 
gained for mental cultivation. > His owa more 
refined tastes cannot fail to be eommunicated t6 
his children. Intelligence and koowledfe cotf 
stitute, however, ta tbemselves a vtal polkietfl 
power, and in proportk» as temperance leads to 
nabits of economy, aiid these to increased world- 
ly wealth, another great element of power will 
be formed. Much of what O^Connell, at the 
bead of his helots, demands so boisterously, anc 
yet with such entire futility, the English and th# 
oligarchs that rule over Ireland will not feel it 
9afe to wkhhold from a sober, inleUiMnt,;atHl 
economical people, that comprehend tne liature 
of the rights they ask for. 

The power of habit, too. Is often greater oVer 
the human mind than the best resoltitfohä. 
Should, therefore. Father Mathew's life be prq- 
longed, and bis benevolent mission be exercised 
Itmg enough to enable the temperance meve> 
ment to bring about such a change in the habits 
and manners of the people, as may modify the 
national chavaeter« the baule will be gained, and 
the good cause permanently triumphant. 

Chnscianiiy, on its first appearance in Ireland, 
was as rapid in its progress as the cause of tenw 
perance during the last few years. Yet Chria- 
tianity^ sudden as was its birth, and rapid fXa 
growth, has maintained itself 1400 years in Ire^' 
land. Let us hope that the omen id a good one 
for the cause of sobriety. 

in the mean time, the ofiieial return« show an 
immense fallin? off not only in the quantity of 
malt consumed in the breweries and^ distilleries 
of Ireland, but also in the amount of duty re- 
ceived there- on foreign spirits and wine. la 
1833 the conüomprtotf amounted^ to l,t»70,000 
bushels of malt, in 1836 to 2,51 1,000, sinee when 
a constant decline has taken place, till in 1840 
the qnantity was only 1,600,000 bushels, or about 
half that of 1836. The spirit doty amounted-^ « 



in 1836 
" 1839 
« 1840 



. i;i.5V0,093 
1,402.1.10 
1,032,000 



being a reduction of one-third in three year». 

In what proportion the' habitfi of teraperanoe 
have gained ground among the higher classes, 
is shown by the reduced consumption of wines 
and foreign spirit«. The duty on wine in Ire. 
land ' 



ISBLAND. 



tetflt £19M>» 

" 1M39 iei«S5ft 

" 1840 ..102,088 

On forei{^ spirits the duty was — 

, ia ISM ^ «..jn9,479 

" 183» 90,308 

« 1840 SS,968 

showing a diminution on wine, in three years, 
of one-.sizth, and on foreign spirits of one-lonrtb. 

In the same time there has been a constant in- 
crease in the consumpriun of spirits both in Ejig-. 
land and Scotland. The distress among the 
humbler classes may partly have caused these 
increased habits of intemperance, but increased 
intemperance, in its turn, must have greatly ag- 
gravated the distress. 

To compare the habits of the three great di- 
Tisions of the united Kingdom, it will suffice to 
show the quantity of malt consumed in each. 
In IP40— 

lft,000«00O inhabitant! of Englana oonauoMd 34,000,000 
bushels of malt. - 

1,400.000 inhabitants of Seotland consvaed 4,300,000 bush- 
el» of malt. 

8»000,000 inhabitanto of bttlaad eooaused 1,000,000 badi- 
«laofaialt, 

Of this malt, much was of coone made inlo 
kfer, and oogbt not to be taken into the account 
«hen speaking of the eonsoroption of apirita; 
Vf fisd, however, that in 1640— 

Batiaad paid £9.«IB,900 for spiTit dmtj, 
SooUaad '* . 1,^1,300 *^ ^ 
inland " lf08S,000 " *< 

Thas» two mUlioas and a half in Seotland pay 
lalf a« mach again in the shape of spirit anty 
«•eight millions of Irish. . 

«CATTERY ISLAND AND THE ROUND 
TOWERS. 

On leaving Kilrush I entmsted my person and 
ny pofftmanteaa to a small boat which 1 had en- 

Sged to earry me over to Scattery Island, and 
mce to the coast of Kerry. The morning was 
«arm, and not a breath of wind disturb^ the 
anrfaee of the water, but the san was completely 
eoncealed by a thicK yellow, fog, which scarcely 
alk>wed as to see beyond the length of oor boat 
Nevertheless, my boatmen brooght me in safety 
to the little green. island, which I was about to 
Tiiiit for the sake Af.its interesting roins, and by 
the time we reached its shore the Ihe had safii* 
eiently dispersed Id allow us to distmgaish the 
nmains of its *< Seven Chorches,** while the lofty 
eolamo of the Round Tower presented itself at 
first as a dark line, and then gradually broke 
with more distinctness through the tarbid at- 
mosphere. 

These Ronnd Towers are the most interesting 
leroains of antiquity that Ireland possesses. 
Like most trarellersJn.ireland I was soon in- 
fected with a passion for round towers, hut af« 
this passion is one of which few of my friends 
in Germany are likely to have a distinct idea, I 
believe that some introdDctory remarks on these 
venerable tmildinüs will not be our of place here. 

These Round Towers arc bulk of large stones, 
and when seen a( a distance look rather like 
loftv columns than towers, bein« from the base 
lo the top of nearly the same thickness. They 
are now indee<l by no means all of the same 
height, many of them have fallen into loins, but 
those which renain tolerably complete are all 
from 100 to 190 feet high, from foity to fifty in 
circumference, and from .thirteen to sixteen in 
diameter. At the buß the wall is always very 



thick and strong, bnt^comcs slighter towanis 
the top. Within, Jthe tower is hollow, without 
any «opisnlnff but- a door, generally eight or ten 
feet from the gmupd, and some very narroir 
apenures or windows,' mostly four in number, 
near the top. These windows are usually torn* 
ed towards äie four cardinal points- of the com* 
pws. . . 

In all parts ^Ireland these'singular buildings 
are found scattered about^ alf' resembling each 
other like thie obelisks of Egypt. Sometimes 
round towers are fotind in solitary islands, some- 
times on the side of a river, or in a plain, or 
some secluded comer of a valliey. The whole 
number of them, according to the map of Ireland 
published by the Society fir ike Diffusion of Ü»- 
Jut K\uiiwledee^ is, at present, 118; of thesej fiftee» 
are Jn a perfect state of preservation, and of thirty- 
six little» more than the foundation remains. 

The general name of "Round Towers" is 
very little characteristic of these remSrkablr 
buildings, for towers are seldom otherwise than 
round. Some writers have called them ^* pillar 
temples,'* bat this name assigns to them a des- 
tination which it is by no means certain that 
they bore. The characteristic peculiarity ot 
these towers consists in their resemblance to» 
mighty pillars, and the most appropriate name 
for them would, in my opinion, oe " pillar tow-» 
ers." 

In no part of Europe do we find any similar 
btailding of antiquity, In Scotland, it is said, 
two or uree pillar towers exist, and these, it may 
be Inferred, were reared by Irish colonists. In 
the fkr east only we come to erections of the 
same cBaraeter and dimension; the first thine 
that a traveller is reminded of on seeing an Irish 
round tower, is a Turkish mioaret 

No authentic records exist to guide as to a 
knowledge of the time when these ttiwers were 
built, or of the use for which they were intend» 
ed. ' Everythinj; proves that they have existed 
firom a very remote antiquity, ana the most op- 
posite conclusions have been adopted with re- 
spect to the period and object of their erection i 
none of these hypotheses carry conviction with 
them, bat ofmany, at least, the absurdity can be 
shown with little trouble. Some, for mstanee, 
have maintained that these towers were built by 
the Danes; but these sages appear to have for- 
gotten that round towers are found in parts of the 
hiland where the Danes never set foot, as, for in- 
stance, in Donegal and the remote counties of 
Connanght. Besides, had these been Danish 
erections, how came the Danes, not to leave any 
of thetn in Rngland? Popular tradition assigns 
them to the Phoenicians, and learned antiquarians 
oagM not too hastily to reject popular tradition, 
for oHen the memory of a people undergoes less- 
corruiJMion and change in the course or a thoo- 
sand' years, than do the records preserved In 
books. There is nothing very improbable in 
the hypothesis that these lowers were built by 
the Phcsnicians, who are known to have visited 
the island and to have exercised power there. 
Travellers have recently discovered in the Per- 
sian province of Masahderan towers precisely 
««Imilar to those of Ireland, and in India erec- 
tions of 1^ similar kind, dedicated to religious 
purposes, have also been mef with. This, taken 
in connexien with the shape of the Turkish min- 
aret, makes it extremely probable that the roui^ 
towers have had an oriental origin. Manv hai^ 
been staggered by the great antiquity whicn saclr 
an hypothesis would assign to the Irish fowers^ 



IltfiLAND. 



M they are bvüdlngs ofwonderfal eoHdUy, and | 
Üuere is notblng at all extraordinary in the stip- 
pqsitioQ that tbese stone:» at^y have remained in 
their prec^nt position for some thoäsands oi 
years. Have we not even brick baildings oi 
Roman eKctiQn) that are known to have beet: 
bttiJt before the Chrisiian era 1 ' 

No less diversified have been the opinions, re- 
i^Kcting the use for which the round «lowers were 
iniended) and on. this subject some strangely ab- 
8)inl doctrines have been advanced. Some peo< 
pie have supposed them to. have formed chains 
of telegraph stations sprea^d out over the whole 
island ; but the absu;tlity of this notion is suffi- 
ciently shown by the position of some of the 
tbwers upon low ground, in the corners of val- 
leys, and on remote and solitary islands, whence 
nothing coald'well be seen, and nothing there- 
fi>re made known., This opinion is, neverthe- 
less, still entertained by many. Others suppose 
the towers to have been fortresses, erected m the 
flftrly ages of Christianity, as places of refuge, 
io case of danger, for the priests and their church 
trensares. I can hardly think, however, that 
any people could have selected such a style of 
«rchitecture for plaees of defence. The delend- 
«rs within woutq have had to stand upon each 
ether's heads, anid their only means of annoying 
Ibeir enemies would have been the four small 
•pentngs at the top, 80 or 100 feet from the 
grotmd. Besides, bad the round towers been 
militanr places of defence, they would orobably 
have all been destroyed in the course oi the con- 
stant wars by which the island has been affiicted, 
whereas the round towers have evidently been 
peserv«d by the people with great care, anid have 
ever been looked on by them with the greatest 
Tcaieration. The notion that the round towers 
were boilt by the early Christians as steeples to 
liaiig their bells in, is equally ontenable, for 
Hiot^ they are frequently found in close vicinity 
to the ntjns of churches, yet no kind of steeple 
covid be worse constructed for such a purpose, 
as the sound of the bells would scareely have 
been heard through the small apertures at the 
top, except by those who had already assembled 
around the tower. 

Many other opinions have been hazarded, 
hot all at variance with the popular tradition, 
which repVesents the round towers to have been 
the temples of the old fire- worshippers from the 
east, who came over with the PhcBoicians. The 
poet Moore and other Irish antiquarians are dis- 
posed to adopt this tradition, the more so as the 
fyreas of the Ghebers, according to the account 
of several travellers, bear the closest similitude 
to the Irish towers, and because thp worship of 
fire is known to have been at one time the pre- 
Tailing reli<;ion of Ireland. The dark interiors 
of these towers must have been well calculated 
to show the sacred fire preserved there to the 
greatest advantage, and the height of the en- 
trance door from the ground would be explained 
by the sanctity of the place, to which only a 
l^w were nrobably allowed to have access. The 
great heignt of the towers has been objected as 
entirely superfluous, supposing them to have 
been applied to such a u^e; but it may have 
been costomnry to place the sacred fire In an 
elevated position, as an additional mark of re- 
•pect, and then the towers mav have answered 
more purposes than one; from the windows at 
the lop sisrnals rany have been made tosnmmnn 
the faithful to prayer, or the apertures may 
have been used for astronomical observations^ 

intended to fix the lime of the religious feasts. 



ChristlaB emblems have been diM!0?«red te 
some of these towers. On the summit of that 
near 8words, in the county of Dublin, is a small 
stone bn^s^ aiid" i& otheru even representations 
of the Virgin have been found; but these, there 
i:anhot be a doubl; are of modem addilibh. 
That churches and oemeteHes should so oltea 
be found in the vicinity of these towers is both- 
mg surprising, fur a building that has once be- 
come saered in the eyes ol a people, generally 
retains a portitm of its sanctity, even though the. 
original religion mayiae utterly swept away. 
Most of the early Christian churches were erect- 
ed on the foundations of heathen temples, and a 
large portion of the Turkish mosques were lor- 
merly Christian churches. 

Generally, where in the vicinity of a round 
tower there qccur the ruins of churches, these 
are in number Seven. This has been explained 
by supposing !that previously to the appearance 
of St. Patrick, Christianity, but not Romas 
OithoKc Christianity, had been introduced into- 
Ireland. This ante-patrician Christianity iß- 
said to have been introdueed l^ the ApostlW 
James, who first preached the gospel in Ireland;, 
and established the Eastern church there, with 
the rites of the Eastein (Ecumenic Synods ; and 
the frequent appearance of seven chnrehes close 
to each other, is accounted for as a reference to 
the seven celebrated churches of the East la 
this hypothesis, though stoutly denied by the 
Roman Catholics, there is nothing improbable, 
and if true it aflbrds another remarkable proof 
of the early connexion between Ireland and the- 
East. In no other Christian land in Europe do^ 
weeonstantly find the ruins of ancient churchee 
in groups of seven. 

we effected a landing on Scattery Island, 
called in ancient times Inniscattery, and atpres- 
ent occupied by a few tenants of a Mr.' Mlteai«, 
who graze their cattle there. *' li is a very cM^ 
ancient plaee," said one of the. boatmen, as he 
was carrying me through the water on his 
shoulders, for we had come to a latidibg-place 
where the tide had left one foot <^ water over a 
large extent of coast. . This pleonasm of " old 
ancient" might be applied to many parts of ire- ' 
land, where old ana older ruins are constantly 
found in close contiguity. 

In general, where there are seven churches, 
in Ireland, some ancient saint is named aS hav- 
ing lived and died there, and as having belonged 
to the first preachers of Christinnity iii the 
country. \t Scattery It is Saint Senanus, whose 
grave is still shown amid one of the rains, and 
whose fame has been extended far beyond his 
native isle by one of Moore's melodies. These 
ancient ruins, however, have many graves of a 
more modem date ; for bodies are still brought 
over from the mainland to be interred at Scat- 
tery. On the occasion of such a fbneral, one 
boat serves generally as a hearse, and the 
mourners follow in other boats. I saw many 
tombstones onlv a few years old, With new iii- 
seriptions, from which the d^'^lng had scarcely 
begun to fade, and «heir eflect upon the solitary 
and remote island had a pecnliar and by no 
means unpleasing eflect. Among them were 
the tombs of several captains of ships, and it 
would have b«»en diflicuU to snge:est a more ap^ 
propriate place oi Interment for such men than 
this little island cemetery at the month of a 
great river, with the wide ocean rolling in front. 
Indeed, there is no other country in Europe 
where there are such interesting cemeteries, or 



IBKIiANDi 



<Q0li fiiotiiiniqw tombm as in IretenA, Mrtly on 
«cconDt of tbe abandafice of ivy wiUi which ikey 
4i€ bttog, «nd parUy on accoant of tbe practice 
that still pfevails of burjing ttu» 4eaid among 
mins. 

Of somc^ of tHe seyen cbnrcbes on Scattery 
ifile, scarcely a trace remained; bat three of 
them were in tolerable preservation. Their 
walls, covered with ivy, remained, and into tbe 
wall oi one o£ them, that nearest tne round tow- 
er, a Mone strangely scalptured into the ibrmof 
a human face, had been introdaced. Strange to 
say, it has completely tbe stiff, maskltke features 
4md projecting ears of the Egyptian statues, 
whence I conclude it must have belonged origi- 
vnallv to^ some other building. On the opposite 
wall is a stoiie with evident traces of an, ancient 
^inscription. 

The round tower stands a little to tbe side. 
Although not perfect, it belongs to ihe most pic- 
turesque in Ireland, for it has been struck by 
lightning, and has received a split on one side 
from top to bottom. On the south side it is cov- 
ered completely with mosses and creeping plants ; 
on the north and west side it is bar6, the heavy 
winds, as tbe sailors told me. making all vege- 
tation impossible there, l^ightning and vegeu- 
tion are tlie worst enemies ,tbe round towers have 
to contend with, and it is strange that such ac- 
tive foes should not have been able to over- 
iom tbe whole of them in a space of 2000 years. 

All the land upon tl^e little island, except tbe 
cemetery, is pasturage. A. small battery has 
been erected here to protect the mouth of tbe 
Shannon, the entrance to wbicb river is defend- 
ed by op less than six batteries and forts, while 
at the month of the Thames there is not one. 

On leaving Inniscattery, to repair to the king- 
>dom of Kerry, we had work enough before us, 
for the tide ivas against us, besides which we 
hud to contend with such a variety of currents, 
that the boatmen required all their skill and ex- 
perience to carry their slight skiff in safety to 
the little port of Tarbert, whither we were 
bound. Tn€( mouth of the Shannon has rather 
the character of an arm of the sea, but to con* 
sider it as such would, be in violation of tbe prin- 
ciples of Irish geography. The waves, now of 
a very respectable size, were rolling out towards 
the ocean; but the fog was completely gone, 
. and we had tbe most beautiful sunshine. With 
the exception of our own little bark, which 
seemed to crest the waves like a bird, neither 
chip nor boat was to be seen upon the noble es- 
tuary, and without passing a human creature 
witH whom we could have exch^ged a saluta- 
tion, we arrived at length in safety at our des- 
tined harbour. There I learned, when it was 
loo late, that without any additional expenditure 
of time or trouble, I might have effected a land- 
ing at Ballybunian, whose marine caverns, at 
the mouth of the Shannon, are reckoned among 
the wonders of Ireland. These caverns stretch 
more than a mile from the sea into the land. 
Ireland is rich in remarkable caverns, many of 
which are but little known to the scientific 
world. 

FROM TARBERT TO TRALEE. 

From Tarbert I proceeded on my joumf y on 
one of those remarkable cars which are stiil 
used in some parts of Ireland as means of pub- 
lic conveyance from one town to another. 
"These diligence cars are built upon ihe same 



principle aa Uie iannliog ears, eztiept that thflf 
run on four wheels, and are otlea drawn by leaf 
horses. The seafon.^ach side is long enoucli 
to accommodate eight persons, and between tfao 
two seats is a kind oi abvbs called the " pit," m. 
which the luggage is deposited. This pit is 
generally too small for all the ^xes and tnxnloi 
which it is intended to contain, and the remain- 
der are piled up into a high wall that forms a& 
effectual partition between the two divisions of 
passengers. Each traveller, therefore, sees only 
one siae of the road; and when the vehicle stc^ 
to change horses or to rest them, the one party 
is sure to haVe a deal to teH to those who have 
been k>okiog only into the opposite half of the 
world. The number of .passengers by one of 
these cars is very undefined; for when all the 
seats are occupied, it is nothing uncommon to 
see people sit in each other's laps, or place 
themselves upon the luggage, or hang on to the 
carriage in a variety of ways. Such was the 
mode in which we were ourselves packed ob 
the day on which I started from Tarbert 

When the horses got into motion, the crowd 
of beggars by whom we had been surrounded 
divided in front, and those who were niml le of 
foot ran along by tbe side of us for some dis^ 
tance. One ran off in front of us like an acani 
eowrieTf and^continued to do so for nearly two 
miles. When he saw that all the others had 
dropped off be came to the side of the car, and 
received a lew pence as a reward for his perse- 
verance. 

Though our view was confined to one side of 
the road, I saw enough to amuse and instroet 
me. In one village we saw the national process 
of house-building. A house of some length had 
fallen in, probably without any volcanic ageneyj 
but simply by the effect of its own weight, and 
the proprietor was repairing the injury sustained 
by his mansion ; but being either too poor or too 
indolent to re-establish the tenement in its former 
extent, he bad contented himself with cutting 
away as much of tbe broken wall as was neces* 
sary to make it smooth, and was running up a 
new wall at the place where the old one remain- 
ed. In this way, he was abandoning one half 
of his old house, and was about to reduce his 
family, his pigs, his dogs, and his poultry, to 
one half of their previous accommodation. The 
manner of building the wall, too, was character- 
istic. Tbe father broi:^ht the mould to the spot 
in a wheelbarrow, the eldest son with a shovel 
fashioned the material into the shape pf a waU, 
and a younger boy stood upon the top to stamp 
it into something like consistency. A pair of 
swallows would have expended niore care and 
skill upon the construction of their nest. 

All tbe people I met with spoke English, 
though Kerry is .considered to be one of the 
counties where tbe Irish language has been best 
preserved. Only in very out-of-the-way places, 
they told me, would I find people that understood 
no English. Of this I bad seen instances in 
Clare, where ehildien would run by the side of 
the car, crying " Burnocks, halfpetny !" " Bur- 
nocks" being an appellation applied to every 
strainger, and "halfpenny" the only En^lfsh 
word that the little rogues seemed to know. 
"Our English," said one Kerry farmer to me, 
" is a sort of home-English. We don't learn it 
correctly. But we have high-bred men among 
us, even among the farmers, and some of the 
shepheitis among the mountains know as mack 
Latin as so many priests.'' 



IRELAND. 



XlMd heard a good deal of these Kern* Schol- 
ars» and was anxious to satisfy xnyseli, by the 
«vidence of my own senses, of the extent to 
which their scnolarship was carried. I heard 
«verywhere a great« deal of shepherds and la- 
bourers who coald read and speak Latin; bat 
the only instances in which I was able to come 
into contact with any of these learned person- 
ages, were not calculated to impress me with 
much respect for the extent of their classical 
lore. On two occasions 1 saw a few men who 
told me they understood Latin, but when I came 
to examine them more closely, I fomid they 
knew nothing beyond a few sentences that they 
had retained from the Missal. One young peas- 
ant I found, who really knew something of the 
classics, and was tolerably well acquainted with 
Horace; he told me, however, he had been 
brought up for a priest, but, not liking the church, 
had returned to the plough on his father's farm. 
I. met subsequently a young man whose story 
was nearly the same, and I am, therefore, dis- 
posed to believe, that Kerry scholarship, where 
It really exists, is always more or less connected 
with tne church, and that, at all events, these 
mountain peasants have no notion of stndjring 
Latin with a view to anything like aesthetic en- 



joyment. 
«It's 



[t's not even English they can speak," said 
my neighbour on the car. 

In the western parts of Scotland, Ireland, and 
Wales, to say of people that they cannot even 
speak English, is mtended to mark the extreme 
barbarism in which they live. The English lan- 
guage is the only medium of cultivation, and all 
endeavour to learn it, as without it they are quite 
helpless the moment they leave their native hills. 
In the same way the French express their con- 
tempt for the Basques among the Pyrenees, and 
for the Germans among the Vosges, by saying 
that they cannot even speak French ; and so, in 
Bohemia, Galicia, Couriand, and Livonia, the 
knowledge of Grerman is deemed inseparable 
from even a rude education. 

I had an opportunity, by the road-side, of see- 
ing a genuine Irish hedge school, and truly an 
interesting and affecting spectacle it was. The 
school-house was a clay cabin, roofed with sods, 
and without so much as a window. The small- 
er of the ragged scholars sat as close as they 
could to the entrance, towards which they turn- 
ed their books to catch as much as possible of 
the light from without. Some were lying on the 
ground, behind these were a few seated on a 
board, and behind these were the taller bo3rs, 
leaning over those in front, likewise to catch 
the light. The teacher was seated in the mid- 
dle of the group, and was clad in what I have 
already described as the national costume of 
the country. In a tiook of Irish sketches this 
picture would have been invaluable, and I was 
sorry I had not a daguerreotype apparatus with 
me, to perpetuate the impression. In front of 
the school-nouse lay as many pieces of turf as 
there were students within, each boy having 
brought one as a tribute to his teacher. 

As J entered through the narrow entrance, the 
dominie rose from an inverted butter-cask, on 
which he had sat enthroned. ''Indeed, I am 
very sorry, your honour,** said he, " that I have 
not the opportunity of offering you a chair.** 
He was teaching his pupils the English alpha- 
bet, and they all Tookea fresh and cheerful, not- 
withstanding their poverty, as indeed most Irish 
children do, in the country at least, despite of 
their ragged attire and their scanty food. 
C 



Both children and teacher lived some miles 
away from the sehoul-house, wkicli stood by the 
side of the road. When the hours of stpdy are 
over, the boys thrust their spelling-books into 
their pockets, and the master, after having fas- • 
tened the door of his college, collects the tribu- 
tary turf into a sack, throws the burthen over 
his shoulder, and having grasped his staff, 
trudges away to his cabin on the other side of 
the bog. 

Our diligence car was not to cany us farther 
than Listowel, and I was obliged to look out for 
some other conveyance to Tralee, where I pro- 
posed to sleep. Some gentlemen who had been 
my fellow-passengers thiis far, and who, like 
myself, were on a pilgrimage to the far-famed 
beauties of Kiliaroey, joined me in the hire of a 
one-horse car. We were standing at the door 
of our inn, in expectation of oqr equipage. Some 
of «$ had been smoking and threw toe ends into 
the street. Two of the poor that were loitering 
about, rushed forward to fight and seramble for 
the prize, and each carried away a portion of 
the booty, carefully concealed among his rags. 
" These are all temperance men,** said our host, 
'^and very strict ones too. Indeed they're all 
very strict in this part of the country, and there 
are very few here who have broken their pledge.'* 
My host went on to speak of Father Mathew as 
an old acquaintanee, and told us many anecdotes 
about him. Among other things, he told us that 
the apostle of temperance, when young, had been 
expelled fVom his college, on the ground of ba^ 
bitual drunkenness, the whiskey bottle having 
several times been found concealed about his 
bed. The arecdote, if true, is not, in my opinion, 
at all to Father Mathew's discredit. 

We had got but a short way from Listowel^ 
when there happened to us an accident whieh» 
harnessed as thty are, is by no means aa un- 
common one for Irish cars^ to meet with» Oar 
merry driver^ to show the mettle of his horse, 
be?an to stimulate him to-inereased speed. The 
gallant courser, however, disapproving of the 
manner of Paddy's persuasion, began to kick, 
and then fairly ran away with us. As he was 
going the right wav, we, at first, reconciled our* 
selves to the rapidity of his pace, but in a little 
while, the girth, on which the whole economy of 
these primitive vehicles generaUly depends, gave 
way, and the ear, according to its usual practice 
on such occasions, tipped over,and deposited us 
and our bag&rage in the {ligh road, k was the 
first time it had happened to me to be over* 
turned in a carriage, and it was of som^ inferest 
to me to follow the course of>aiy thoughts, which 
succeeded eaeh other wiA the rapidity of.ifght-« 
ning. When I beeame perieetly conscious ol 
what bad happened, and while the shaft of th«« 
car was still describing its semicircle in the air, 
I thought to myself, '< This may be a serious ac- 
cident. The car and all the Imrgage may fall or 
my head, and put an end at once to all my ob- 
servatioBs on Irish peculiarities. If I eome off 
with a bruise or two, or a broken finger, how 
thankforl I ooght to be-." When, howevj^r, we 
all got npon our legs again, and ibimd we were, 
none of us hurt, though all well bedaubed with 
mud, and with a rent here and there in our gar- 
ments, all our gratitude to Providence seenked to 
be gone, and to have given way to a general 
feelinef of indignation against the clumsiness of 
our driver. Such is nan. Fainthearted in the 
hour of need, and veady to make any compact 
with Providenee; hot in , rosperity insolent, and 



3* 



IRELAND. 



gfMbbliAg «gaiaft/Fate at ike most trifling aa- 

We leit oar baggage mijder guard, and pro« 
oeeded tforfoot, white the driver went io search 
ofccntis and thongs, to repair the oooaeqaences 
of hi9 awkward ness. A Uttle way from JUsto wel 
. the country will repay a pedestrian, bot farther- 
on, let no man trust to the treacherous shadow* 
ings which he may discover on his map. AW 
these beaati(\sl linings, intended to mai*K hills 
and mountains) are extremely iaviting^ and in 
Germany keep the promise they hoM out, by de> 
lighting the wanderer with the mos't romantic 
and pietur(3sque laodsdanes.. This, in Ireland, 
is not, by any means, always the cas«. The 
moantains we were. now. passing were naked 
from the base- to the snmmit^ and of a gk^oiny 
moDotoooua coloar, for they were corered with 
bog, and so was the lower part of the country, 
all the way from ihe< Si)annoo to Tralee Bay. 
And yet I saw village» of which ithe inhabitants 
were complarintng of a scarcity of turf! Ja the 
county of Cork, I wa» told^ the scarcity of torf 
had already bedome a sufajeci of generai canü- 
plaint. 

TRAI-EE. 

It is a pity that the. ck;»ids .turn their lea^^ 
agreeable side towaidis the earth. Had we thai 
evening contemplated from aJbove, the clouds 
that looked to us so gray and .monotonous, we 
should probably have seen them radiant with 
light^and diversified with every shade of colour. 
To us, however, ti^y were- one dull, unbroken 
gray, and glad enough we weoe^ aanigbt set in^ 
and this gray was turning into b^aek, to arrive 
in Tralee, wnere a fine blazing fine indemnified 
us fbr the itirfrmuB^ evening. 

Ou¥ supp^ consisted of chickens, bacon, ham, 
i^ast beer, Chester cheese,. and celery, with po^ 
tatoes and cabbage sodden in water, and I bad 
scarcely expected, in so reasnote a i^ace, to (have 
fbond these various dishes so esoellently pif&^ 
pared. There were four of us, ands^ur ooutyev^ 
sation was of the kind which genelisily passi^s 
on such occasions, in the British; iiiiands, be- 
tween persons whose aequaintance with each 
other is slight and of teoent*date. '^ Ma y I trou* 
ble you ft>r ft bit of beef V^ « Will yon allow nae 
to »»end you< a piece of chicken 1 Have you, any 
eAioice as to the wing or the breast 1" *^m»yl 
have thejionouit of taking a gbi$9 of wii^ witb 
you 1" " I shall he veiy happy." '* I'll trouble 
you for a potato." •* Witt you take any moreT* 
This was the soi^ of crossr^re of civil, speeches» 
that wais kept nptbrougb, supper time, and 
though itsoundiipretMly^eaoHgh When heard fyr 
the first time, it becomeer insufferably, tedious 
and absurd after firequentrenetiticHi« 

Opposite to our inn lajr a iiouse, in.wbich, for 
that evening, a dmknatio peribrmance had been 
announced. The play waa. to be the." Two 
Murderers,** but it was not this awful title that 
tempted me. so mncb, as the title of one of the 
dramatis personsß^ ' Herr von Souccrouthagen, 
a German baron, out oficompiliro^il to whom I 
determined to see the play. To my disappoint- 
ment, however, there was very little caricature 
' about the baron« who, on the 0Qntra]y,/«Kas only 
an insipid imitation of what a Gj^rman baron 
might very well have been^. I atop^d only for 
one act, bot I stopped long enougrh to add an- 
other picture to my gallery of Irish rags. Even 
on the^siage, I found, the national costume was 
adhered to. Several of the actors had visible 



rents In their gannents. I can scarcely b^tfevir 
that in any other country the same thing would 
have been seen among the lowest strollers spout* 
ing in a. bam. 

An English fire, however, consoles one for al- 
most every disappointment, and soon makes one 
forget baa weather, insipid conversation, and 
dull plays. I . seated myse^ by the side of the 
ifamiliar fiame, and taking the map of Ireland 
into my hand, amused myself for a long time by 
examining and speculating on the eccentric out- 
line of the south-western, coast. 

THE LAKES OP KILLAaNEY. - 

, I neycr beheld the golden stars of heaven with 
less pleasure than when, on the following momr 
ing,, I stood alone in the street of Tralee, ready 
eq^aipped for my journey, and waiting for the 
tiolail. coach which was to pick mevp^ as the Eng- 
lisn say, and take me on to Eillamey. At lengUt 
I Rooked at my watch, and founds to my inde- 
scribable vexation, that the merciless waiter had 
driven n^e out of n^y bed at four, instead of six 
oJclock. There was now, however, no help for 
it, and I therefore left my,li;^iage at the oflSce 
of the coach, and set out on foot on the road by 
which it was to pas&. Jt was a. beautiful clear 
October morning, and I soon became reconciled 
to my lonely, walk through the county of Kerry,. 
in.no other company tb^ that of the thousands, 
of b€;autmil worlds wJiichiooked so kindly down 
upon me. ^ 

It is a common notion that these hpu|^ before 
the morning dawn, when people are mostly 
buried ia profound sleep^ are particularly choseni 
by robbers forihe exercise of their profession^ 
But in Ireland, common as n^urders ai)d ac^s of 
personal outrage may be, the wanderer has sel- 
dom n^uch to fear. The Irish are a restless^ 
mxitinou^ but not a dishonest people. The 
crimes tliey comn;it are seldom connected with, 
robbery, but arise out of. Quarrels and affronts, 
apd are mostly oqoasionea by revenge and ha- 
tred, rather than by a desire for plunder. IngbX 
in his work on Ireland» slates that out of 1^ 
criminal cases presented by the calendar of 
Kpr^.for one quarter of a year, onjy ten were 
of theft, but seveniyrfour of riotous assemblies^ 
tbirity-fpjjr of rescue, or resistance to lawful au- 
thority, and fortyrseven of personal assaults r: 
and yet we must not forgeMha? the county of 
^erry belongs to what t^e Engli$h call the least 
disturbed district$^,s^Q. that it is easy to see what 
kinq of oflences are /really common in Ireland. 

I. had walked a con;s)derable time without 
havjiig any idea of the appearance of the land^ 
scap^ around me, and as tne 3un rose, it assund^ 
th«, appearance of rip great se^t, ^ith islands and 
the peaks of black mountains risjng out of it. 
The whole plain was covered with a ^hlck whiter 
fog» from which only the hill tops remained free^ 
and as the mail coach, afteir overtaking me,- 
worked its way vpry rapidly through the misf t|> 
Killamey,,very much as the Russian ^asants 
cut their way through the snow. I can givje little 
accountof the scenery we passed until we reach- 
ed this repowned spot, the goal of so many of 
the wanderers through "Erin's isle." 

Thonoas Moore's poems, have certainly con- 
tributed not a little to the celebntv of many parts 
of Ireland, a.«* well as the patriotic efforts of the 
Irish Penny Magazine, and the English view- 
hunters, always on the look out for someibing^ 



IRELAND. 



35 



Fdrmerlyonl? tiie higher and wealthier class- 
es ol' the £Dgli5h traveiied, aad these being 
oaoaUy indifieretDt to what was to be foand at 
home, took their way towards the celebrated 
poiats oi'foreigQ conntries. Now, however, the 
OQDSiaiUty increasiDg love, aod indeed mania 
imr tra wiling, and the iacreased Cacilityof com- 
miluieaiioQ, have !«et in motion also the inferior 
classes of society, and those who were once, \ik» 
the gls^ie aäscripUj rooted (o the soil, or who 
made journeys only when compelled by busines& 
BOW run about in search of the picturesque, and 
the beautv of certain spots, lunnerly known 
only to their nearest neighbours, is now dis«- 
ecissed. criticised^ aad praised to the skies. 

By this generally awakened deare for travels 
Ung a number of other desires and interestshave 
been, at the same tisoe, called inijo action. Mon- 
ey- is broqghi into circulation, and innkeepers, 
eoachmen, and others, find their account in it. 
These peopiCi who foiiaerly hardly lq>ew Um 
^iffeYence between an Irish bog and an Alpine 
valley, speak now ^miliariyof the charms and 
attractions of this or that distr/ct, and £nd, now 
bere^ pow there, a perfect Paradise. In order to 
attract travellers to their ^ neighbourhood, they 
§^ magnificeoi desoriptions written, and oAen 
published in journals and elsewhere, and thus 
promote their private interests while tbevgratify 
Jieir national pnd,e^ Patriotism, too, which fo^rr 
marly ooconied itself only with the political in- 
•titutioos, the great meo^ and the social advan- 
tages of the country, now extends itself also to 
Its natural beauties, and it comes al last to be re^ 
garded as a kind of barbarism not to have seen 
certain place» which: haitre acquired in thjs way 
a high reputation. 

" Etave you been to. the lake» f' is a question 
th^t meets the traveller in England, Scotland» 
and Ueland. In the first, " the lakes'' mean the 
lakes of Westmorekmd and CcHnherland; in 
8cotUMad, .Loch Lomond and its neighbours are 
meant; but in Ireland the expression Invariably 
designates the lakes of BLillamev. 

The town of Kiltarney, like Tralee and most 
of the other little towns cdf thesouth of Ireland, is 
pieuUy built, and has an air of novelty, the 
greater part of it being, in. fact, little more than 
thirty years old. Before that time it is said to 
have been a wretched place. It boasts many ex- 
eel lent inns, where ibr "money and fair words," 
one may get all possible accommodation for 
▼iewing the lakes and tj^^e surroundiug country. 
I arrived there exactly at breakfast time, and 
joined company with an jßnglisb officer, who 
was also about to visit the lakes, paving obtain- 
ed leave of absence irom his quarters — some^ 
where on the Shannon — for the express pur- 
pose of seeing the Paradise oi Killamev. 

The lakes lie in a crescent around the foot of 
the highest group of mountains in Kerry, called 
Macgilli cuddy's Reeks, and are divided into two 

Principal ones, the k>wer and the upper lake. 
*he town lies on the fonner, which is the larger 
of the two. 

In onter to vary the jouineir, and see as much 
as. possible of the country, it is customary to hire 
at the same time, a carriage, a boat, and a pair 
of saddle horses. The boat is then sent on to 
wail for the traveller at a little harbour on the 
upper lake the horse» are also sent forward to 
the Gap of Dunloe, a mountain pass iu Mac^l- 
llcuddy's Reeks, which he reaches after driving 
in the carriage round the lower lake, and a few 
miles beyond. At this ravine he mounts a horse 



I to ride over the mountains, and clambering 

I down on the other side, reaches the extreme 

iKtint of the upper lake, where entering his boat, 

he rows through the two lakes back to the point 

he started from. 

From Killamey, which lies on the low shore, 
one sees the mountains on the other side rising 
like a dark wall, and reflected in the clear lake 
that lies like a mirror at their feet } and the pros- 
pect was, l^utiful when a glimpse of it could 
be caught through, the walls, palings, and hedg- 
es^ that almost s|>ut it out. Near the town^ 
along the lake, runs the hippodrome, or race 
course of Killarney, for even such small places 
as this must in Ireland have their race course. 

In the villages we passed, through, we again 
saw the little Irish boys running to school, each 
with his slate and book under one arm, and his 
sod of turf for the schoolpaster under the other* / 
The ravine, where we ibuad our horses, had no 
remarkable feature to distiuguish it from many 
others in Scotland apd Wales. MacgilUcua* 
dy's Reeks—so called, it, is said, from a great 
Irish landowner, whose possessions were so ex^ 
tensi^ that these mountains were but as reeks 
or bay-ricks to those of other men. are not more 
thau; 3404. feet high, although the loftiest in Ire* 
land- The highest points inScotlimd are more 
than lOOO feet above them. As we trotteil 
through the pass, we coukl not avoid envying & 
pair of eagles which were hovering high in aic 
over- our he^d^i although we we;re very well 
mounted qn stout, sagacious, and active little 
Kerry horses. Their caparison is the most: 
wretched I ever saw, consisting of nothing more. 
t,haja straw plait^ togethei;. Straw is indeed 
much in use ibroughout Ireland for various purr 
ppsesTT-they take the pigs to market for instance 
with a wi^ ot straw, round the leg ; in other 
couDtriyes. too ^traw is sometimes twisted into the 
shape of a rope, but a hoiise with bridle and bar* 
nessall of straw is a «ight to be seen nowhere 
but in this poorest part of the west of Ireland. 
Be it remembered also, this was not a mere make 
shift or the whim of .an jnidividnaVbut a general 
custom. ^ 

The rocks, on either sidei of the pass, arose to 
a height of at least 1500 f^t, and it was ahqut 
ten miles long, and presented in its vafions 
windings many wildly picturesque points, 't^iiß 
wildness of eäect ia not a little increased by the 
dark colour e^ the bog 2»tufi^ which covers even 
the highest points of the jocks and monntaios.. 
Not onlydolaige ma.ssest:tf it lie on their bioad. 
surfaces and rounded nroakontories, but every 
little pra/ectioD, every Utile chink and crevice, 
even of an almost peipendicnlar wall of rock,!» 
filled and overgrown by it. I would not believe 
this until I bad myself climbed many of the rocks 
to ascertain it, and even taken out pieces of th^ 
turf which had assumed the exact form of the 
rocky clefts they had filled. It is;as if the bog 
stuff had been floating in the atmosphere, aua 
had been precipitated upon the rocks, or as .if it. 
had been poured over them like sauce, and after 
running into aod filling all the holes and crevi- 
ces, had flowed down into the valleys. 

The country people who accompanied us on 
our tour, informed us that on the northern side 
of the " Reeks'* this substance was found in 
much larger masses th^n on the south, and that 
they were in the habit of going, up the mountains 
to- cut their turf. Sometimes it has happened 
thai4arg« beds of turf have got into motion, and 
slipped downwards, and in tnany places it ih 



36 



IRELAND. 



«evident that their movements have been stopped 
by boldly projecting points of rock. Sometimes 
it appears as if the bog had not so mach slipped, 
as run down the rocks while in a liquid state, 
leaving long black streaks from the top to the 
bottom, and a curious effect is often produced by 
spots and streaks of bright white in immediate 
contact wi^ them. On examination I found 
these to consist of a kind of while moss which 
grows near the turf. 

The principal inhabitants of these rocks are a 
few herdsmen and their goal», who have con- 
stantly to dispute the ground with their enemies, 
the eagles and foxes. The wolf is said to have 
inhabited these wild regions longer than any 
other part of the British islands, the last Irish 
wolf having been shot in the year 1700, in Mac- 
gillicuddy's Keeks, whereas the last was de- 
stroyed in Scotland in 1680, and none have been 
seen in England since 1300, when, in the time of 
Edward I. many were killed in Yorkshire. Per- 
haps the gradual extinction of those fierce an- 
imals may serve as a standard to measure the 
TOOgress of civilization in the three countries. 
The goats are by no means carefully tended by 
the herdsmen, who indeed seldom look after 
them much, except once a year, when they col- 
lect the herds, take such as are fit for the mar- 
ket, and set the rest at liberty again. They gen- 
erally calculate that ten out of every fifty will be 
destroyed by the eagles and foxes; or perish 
in some way or other among the mountains. 

A little river rushes through the Gap of Dun- 
loe over the rocks, and in the middle of the val- 
ley several small lakes, of a most remarkable 
appearance, are formed : namely, the water has 
the peculiar property of staining all the ground 
it flows over of a deep black colour, so that now, 
in the beginning of October, when the waters 
after an unusually dry season were very low, 
die black rocky hollow, on the edge of which we 
were riding, had exactly the appearance of a gi- 
gantic inkstand half empty. Had there been at 
the bottom, among the rugged masses of black 
rock, some smoke and flame instead of water, we 
might have imagined we were looking into the 
dark entrance to the infernal regions. The Irish 
have named all this part of the pass, with good 
reason, the " Dark valley." 

In Tßany of the rocky clefts we noticed heaps 
of turf made up ready for the winter, and they 
^ are often repositories lor the illicit stills used for 
making the whiskey, known by the name of 
"mountain dew," for which Kerry is renowned 
throughout Ireland. The name would have been 
better suited to the fine rich goats* milk that we 
sot in a little hut in the neighbourhood of the 
fiikes, at the foot of the rocky ridge that crosses 
«the middle of the pass. The snow lies on these 
mountains^ till the end of April, and sometimes 
even as late as the middle of May, but neither 
the great lakes of Killamey, nor the spnall lakes 
ip the Gap of Dunloe, ever freeze. 

Prom the rocky ridfife above mentioned we 
looked into another valley, still more romantic, 
wild, and desolate, than the one we had passed. 
It also contained lakes of black water, and far 
and wide nothing was to be seen bui huge craggy 
* rocks and bogs. Here and there lay lonely little 
huts distinguishable by the blue smoke rising 
from them ; but, alas, no fields, trees, or gardens 
lay round them. In all these wild glens the 
people speak only the Irish or Erse language. 

The efiect of the lakes of Killamey, with their 
banks of soft meadow land and the rich fringe of 



trees scattered over them, is greatly increased 
.by their lying in the midst of this rocky wilder- 
ness. They are also sprinkled over with a num- 
ber of little grassy and wooded islands, and pen- 
insulas running out far from the main land into 
the bosom of the lakes, and forming a never- 
ending variety of straits, bays, and harbours of 
fairy proportions. Oii many of these, wealthy 
amateurs, delighted with the fantastic and soli- 
tary character of the place, have built ornament- 
al cottages, and thrown picturesque bridges 
over inlets of the lake. The whole crescent of 
the lakes, from one end to the other, is not more 
than about nine miles long, and forms tmdoubc- 
edly one of the most varied and agreeable excur- 
sions one can take. The water appears, when 
looked into, of a darlr golden brown colour, but 
as clear as crystal, so that one can see to a great 
depth beneath it When taken up in a glass, it 
shows no colour. We had a crew of six row- 
ers to our boat, for in Ireland there are always 
six pair of arms used where two would suffice. 

In reading some of the exaggerated English 
descriptions ofthe lakes of Killaniey, one might 
fancy them to be really something supernatural. 
A well-known Irish writer (Wakefield,) for in- 
stancy, expresses himself concerning them in 
the following manner: **Narare here puts on 
the wildest and most tetrific attire to astonish 
the gazing spectator, who, lost in wonder and 
surprise, thinks that he treads on enchanted 
ground; and whilst he scarcely knows to which: 
side to direct his attention, can hardly believe 
that the scenes before him are not the effects of 
delusion, or the airy phantoms of the brain, call- 
ed into momentary existence by the creative 
power of a fervid imagination." This is a rare 
specimen of bombastic nonsense, and if all this 
is to be said of the lakes of Killamey, what are 
we to say of others that much exceed them in 
beauty. Nature is, indeed, almost everywhere 
more beautiful and attractive than any language 
can adequately describe; but when we do at- 
tempt the description of a country, and of the 
charms of a particular spot, we must speak by 
comparison with other places, and not forget 
the infinite number of lovely spots of earth to 
which we might do injustice by our immoderate 
praise of one. Besides, these vague generali- 
ties of " enchantments" and " delusions," and 
" airy'phantoms," and " creative imaginations," 
really describe nothing at all. The realities of 
stone and wood and earth, which we meet with 
in nature, are beautiful enough — ^we do not need 
to try and lift them into the realms of phantas- 
magoria, but should do much better, if we would 
try and give ftie distant reader some idea of 
what has excited our admiration, by a fhithfui 
representation of the individual features of the 
scene, often by no means an easy taisk. 

Along the upper lake lies a 'range of small 
rocky islets, all surrounded, as well a« the 
shores, with a black stripe, about four or five 
feet broad, pointing out what has been the heighi 
ofthe wa ler in the summer. Immediately above 
the black stripe, and in sharpest contrast with it 
comes a streak of white, of the moss I have al- 
ready mentioned in speaking of the Gap of Dun- 
loe, and oyer this again another of yellow furze, 
which seems to flourish amazingly in these boggy 
grounds. 

Above all comes the beautiftil foliage of the 
arbutus and die oak, the former making, indeed, 
one of the especial attractions of Killamey. 
These beautiftil shrubs are nowhere so numer- 



IRELAN». 



37 



ous dnd flourishing as ofi the l^kes and islands 
of Killarney, and the finest specimens may be 
seen shooting up an^ong the rocks. The au- 
tumn is said to be the most favourable season 
for viewing them, on account of the endless va- 
riety of colours then exhibited by the leaves, 
and as besides the advantage of this season I 
had that of fine weather, an uncommon one at 
Killarney, where it almost always rains, I cer- 
tainly had reason to consider myself fortunate. 
. Many of the islands are covered only with 
weeds and bog, and cannot for a moment be 
compared with the Isola Madre, Isola Bella, or. 
others in the Italian lakes. 

Amongst the bold promontories of the Glenna 
mountain, which project in lofty and command-' 
ing forms upon the lake, is one more steep and 
apparently maccessible than the rest, called the 

. Eagle's rock, because a pair of eagles have for 
many years had a nest upon its summit. The 
people of the country, however, contrive to rob 
the poor birds every year of their young, and 
sell them to this or that nobleman, who gener- 
ally pays four or five pounds for the stolen good's. 
In the space of two or three miles, we are told, 
there were known to be five Ragles' nests. A 
regular trade is carried on in the young birds, 
who are sent to England. Between the 15th of 
June and the 1st of Julv, they are old enough to 
be brought up by the hand, and this, therefore, 

,is the time when the robberies begin. The 

' rocks on which the nests are built, are usually 
60 steep and dangerous, that they can only be 
reached by ropes from above. The people 

. watch for the departure of the old birds, who 
flv away at regular hours in search of food. 
The men are then let down, in baskets, to de- 
prive the feathery parents of the objects of their 
tender care. It happens sometimes, however, 
t^at the business is not accomplished before the 
birds return, and then a desperate conflict takes 
place with the spoilers, who come provided for 
such a contingency with an old sabre or a pis- 
tol. 

For twenty years, our boatnwn informed us, 
they had regularly robbed the nest on the Eagle's 
TOck, and for twenty years the same birds had 
regularly returned and laid and hatched their 
eggs there. They are the oldest birds in the 
whole district, and can be distinguished by the 
paler colour of their feathers. Generally for a 
week after they have been deprived of their off*- 
spring, the bereaved parents hover screaming 
round the emptj^est, but they never seem to 
grow wiser by experience, or to seek for their 
progeny some better asylum from the ruthless 
rapacity of man. The men all agreed that 
whenever a tamed eagle escaped and returned 
to its native rocks it was sure to be attacked and 
torn to pieces by the wild ones. 

Through a narrow channel, along which the 
water rushfed with great rapidity, overshadowed 
by beautiful trees, and spanned by the half-de- 
cayed arches of an ancient bridge, we entered, 
after some hours rowing, the Turk Lake, land- 
ing here and there to view some fine trees or try 
a remarkable echo, and then passed through an- 
other narrow strait into the large lake, on one 
of whose grassy banks under an old arbutus 
tree, we spread our noonday meal. The cold 
meat, the ale, and the mountain dew were fully 
appreciated by me and my companion, but our 
six rowers, though they accepted thankful! v the 
£x>d, seriously and resolutely declined both the 
ale and the spirit, asserting that they were all 



temperance men. We tried to overcome their 
objections to the ale, as it had been very cold 
on the water, and we thoii^ht it would do them 
good, but they remained nrm, said it was " no 
temptation at all," and that they would rather 
drink water. The oflicer and I really felt asha- 
med of our self-indulgence in the presence of 
these abstinent people, and consumed a much 
smaller quantity of the " alcoholic drinks'' than 
we should have done but for the reproving ex- 
ample before us. My friend had wimessed 
many of the beneficial effects of temperance in 
the army, and maintained that the Irish soldiers 
had become much improved in their discipline, 
and the crimes and punishments in his regment 
had diminished more than one half, since Father 
Mathew's refonn. In the "old drinking time" 
he had had every day some trouble and vexa- 
tion in the barracks, but now he could enjoy his 
fourteen days' furlough without being harassed 
by anxieties about the behaviour of his men. 

The stories of eagles, with which we had been 
entertained on the Upper Lake, were exchanged, 
when we entered the lower one, for traditions of 
a certain renowned O'Dofiaghue, once a power- 
ful knight or king, who lived ages ago, in a beau- 
tiful castle on its shores. His castle lies in ru- 
ins, but the fame of his deeds still lives in the 
memories of the people ; and in the fantastic va- 
riety of forms assumed by the rocks and crags, 
they fancy they can still find traces of his do- 
mestic life. One rock goes by the name of 
O'Donaghue's pigeon-house; another, a cavern, 
now almost filled with the omnipresent bog stufig 
is called O'Donaghue's prison ; but the most cu- 
rious of all is O'Donaghue's library, which pre- 
sents a number of thin, narrow, rocky shelves, 
with torn scattered fragments lying on them, 
that really have some resemblance to confused 
heaps of books. " Even the Holy Bible lies there 
at the top," said one of our rowers, pointing to 
a thick stone shaped very much like a laiige 
book, and "that's his Lexicon" said another, 
" and a number of hard words there is in it." 

On a fine morning, before the first ray^s of the 
sun have begnn to scatter the night fogs from 
the bosom of the lake, O'Donaghae himself, I 
was told, comes riding over it on a beaatifal 
snow-white horse, to look after his household 
business, while fairies hover before him, and 
strew his path with flowers. As he approaches, 
everything returns to its former state or magnifi- 
cence-, and his castle, his library, his prison, and 
his pigeon-house^ are restored to a perfect state. 
Whoever has courage to follow him over the 
lake, can cross even the deepest parts dry-shod, 
and may ride with him into the opposite mount- 
ains, where his treasures are concealed, and 
from which, in such a case, the daring visiter 
may expect a liberal present ; but before the mn 
has risen, O'Donaghue again crosses the water, 
and vanishes amidst the ruins of his castle. 

The most interesting of the islands of this 
large lake is that which bears the name of Innis- 
fallen. It is also the lai^est of all, and is over- 
grown with the finest old trees, which lie in 
scattered groups as in a park, and the wide spa- 
ces between them afford the finest pasturage for 
cows and sheep. Many of the treefi are oaks, 
but the greater number are magnificent old ash 
trees, and I also saw here a holly tree, older and 
larger than any I had ever seen in my life. It 
was twelve feet in eircumference, and had gigan- 
tic far-spreading branches, like an oak. I eoald 
not help comparing it menialiy with the Uttle, 



«8 



II^£LAND. 



wretched, sHisted lioUie^^tbat 6t9^ on a sickiy 
existeDoe in the Japdia des Plantes, in Paris, 
where ev6ry caie is taken of them. One of the 
mighty ash trees had been torn up by the roots 
in a storm of the preceding winter, and had car- 
ried with it a mass of rock, twenty feet in cir- 
camfereDce, round which its roots had entwined 
themselves, and which, as it lay prostrate, it 
still held firmly clasped. There are also the 
ruins of an ancient abbey, and many beautiful 
thickets of evergreens, on this island, which 
Thomas Moore has remembered in his lines : 

'* Sweet Innisfallen, f«w thee well, 
May calm and •oBshine long be thiiM, 
How fair thou art let others tell. 
While but to feel how fair be mine." 

After rowing about fourteen miles, we landed 
at length by the ruins of Ross Castle, which He, 
sot far from Kiilamey, immediately on the shores 
of the lake, and from whose wall one «njoys a 
delightful prospect of the lakes and their islands. 
The ruined walls are overgrown with ivy, and 
the vast proportions of the old hall-chimney in- 
dicate the huge size of the logs that fonnerly 
held the place of coals at an Englishman's fire- 
side. 

. FROM KILLARNEY TO BANTRY. 

The visiters of Kiilamey are accustomed to 
take six or eight davs to enjov at leisure all the 
beauties of the neighbourhood!, to visit the ruins 
of several castles, climb the high mountains of 
Mangerton, and dip their fingers into the little 
lake of perpetually ice-cdd water, called the 
Devil's Punch-bowl. 

So detailed a study of the spot, however, hard- 
hr suited the|)laQs of one who intended to make 
me tour of Europe, and I therefore leil Killar- 
ney the next morning, to proceed to Cork, by 
the way of Kenmare and Bantry; but as the 
mail-car went at rather a late hour, I left my 
luggage, and preceded it on foot, that I might 
have an opportunitv of visiting the ruins of Mn- 
«ross Abbey, which lie on one side of the road. 
They «re surrounded by stately old trees, and a 
beautiful park, belonging to a wealthy proprie- 
tor^' whose name I fmgetf and may be oited as 
an example of what I oave said concerning the 
picturesque situation of Irish ruins. The walls 
' are sttli tolerably high, and heare and there thick- 
ly eorered with ivy. In the midst of the inner 
court of the cloisters stood the finest and most 
tendsome Irish yew*tree I had ever seen. Its 
An4ike branches overshadowed the entire court, 
and rested on the margin of the ruined walls. 
Another court, and the chapel of the abbey, like 
taiost ecclesiastical rains in this icountry,are fill- 
^ with tbe monuments of the dead. I saw in- 
aWibed mi some of these the names of Macarthy, 
0'D(niaghiie, and of other once powerful fam- 
ilies, bat ray cicerone — ^an oH woman clothed 
•in rags-^-informed me that t^ renaaias of the 
>kSBg8 of the country rested beneath them. Nev- 
'tr -faaive I iieheld a more exquisite little picmre 
llian äiese ruins made, and had a Ruisdael 
'painied them just as thev lay before me, he 
<wmM oenaialy have produced a worthv cem- 
panion to his celebrated Churchyard., The in- 
tanör of the chapel, and the high arched gate- 
hirays, were draperied with ivy, but the roof was 
'antively gone, and the bright sanUgbt every- 
where brolBe through the watring bntadies of 
^ibm kixnrihnt lirees. 

Aihuxifii iha mftil-ear anivod» and tMnaioi 



me away Irom Mucniss Abbev. MangertODi 

lay high and clear before us, ana from its sum- 
mit arose a little cloud like a nillar of smoke. 

" That looks as if the Devil was brewing h& 
morning drink in his punch-bowl," said our dri- 
ver, as he helped me up. " He don*t belong to 
our temperance society, for he's got a bowl for 
his punch that would shame all the teapots in 
Ireland put together.'* v 

The first part of our journey was but a rep- 
etition of that of yesterday, for the road ran 
close along tlie margin of the lake, although the 
points of view were certainly somewhat varied : 
aAerwards, however, it began to wind in and 
out by a new way through the Turk mountain. 
This fine new road, through one of the wildest 
and most desolate regions of western Ireland, 
where, lor a thousanoyears or more, people had 
been content to cross the mountain on horses 
with straw bridles, is evidently not the work of 
the wretched Celtic inhabitants of the district, 
although they are not insensible to its advanta- 
ges. These roads are some of the benefits 
which Ireland reaps from the English. From 
these improved roads have arisen other improve- 
ments, which the Irish* will probably hardly feel 
disposed to regard as such— namely, 'the new 
police stations, which are always erected upon 
them. These roads may, in fact, be considered 
in something like the same light as the patrol 
roads made by the Austrian« through the half; 
oarbarous countries of their military frontier.' 
We visited the police station tliat lay on our 
way, and found it a new, handsome, spacious 
building, that at a distanoe looked like a little 
castle. It lay on a high commanding part of 
the mountain, and beyond it the road began 
again to descend. Far around, the country had 
an air of romantic desolation that again remind- 
ed me of the military stations on the Austrian 
frontier, which are frequently placed on most 
picturesque spots in the wilderness. The house 
contained eight policemen of the constabolair 
force— an armed force now distributed over all 
Ireland ibr the prevention of crime, the discov- 
eiy and seizure of oriminalS| the protection of 
property, and the preservation of the public 
peace. It consists of eight thousand men, dis- 
ciplined like soldiers, commanded by district in- 
spectors, provincial inspectors, and inspectors- 
general, and distribn^ted over the country in 
small parties of from five to eight men. 

Their uniform is much plainer and darker 
than that of the military, n|^ the^y are armed 
with muskets and sabres, and are allowed to 
make use of the bayonet as a dagger. This po* 
lice force, therefore, is but a military garrison 
under another name, and since the finest and 
strongest men, and those of the most unblem- 
ished character, are selected for the service, and 
sent into every comer of the country to Ibrm the 
most intimate acquaintance with its inhabitants, 
there is no doubt that in case o( a war or a re- 
bellion, it would be worth more- ihan' an army of 
thirtv thousand men. 

The sergeant who eommanded at this post, 
informed me that his district embraced an im- 
mense extent of naked mountains, and did not 
contain more than two hundred and twenty in- 
habitants, for whom eight armed policemen 
seemed a large proportion. And yet the coontjr 
of Kerrv is reekoned one of the least disturbed 
parts of Ireland. The poor moontaineers aia 
not qnarrelaome ve refmciory, and although tbqr 
have ihe nasi yi<^eikt paf^ man of thair 4 



IRELAND. 



39 



: 4Xf, Bmel 0'Co»öeUi>iii the midst -of 4bein, they 
» ^ve fewer party fights than toe people of almost 
•«BTöUiercouniy in Irela&d» > 

The taost distorl)ed eounty of al 1 Ireland, a$ 
is W9II IcaovB, is Tipperary, where there is a 
•ipölice station at e^f^ry three or four milesv 
These men, Wfto are very well paid, are as oAen 
i«ish as Efiglish,* or indeed, as far as I have 
4ieeD, nlbie ^equently the former. There are 
also ifeis&y Irishmen amockgst the police of hon* 
*«loB, far the Bng^lish are often somewhat averse 
4o this service. 

Wiien one h^ra in Ireland of disturbed coun- 

4äes, one fap^nes at first there must have been 

'>Jiat6ly. «krebelHon in the ponntry. Kot at all To 

be disturbed, is the regular and habitual condi« 

ftäm iöf this ün£»rlttQ«te conatry* Etots, party 

^^Jgrhtt»' müiidcf s fuOin- revenge« ase more or, less 

> the- order of tlie day; it is a state of thiogs \^e 

'Imveso idea of^in which a whole population is 

f<«ttga^d in ta general conspiracy, and at eveiy 

-momeni; prepajoed fbr rebellion. 

"fiveiy fifty. years or so, these discontent^ 

' bfeakiouttnt'o a bloody insurrection. This I am 

toMrkas hßea-ihe ordinary condition of Ireland^ 

"^urtt since its dbnqnest,by the English— a condi* 

. tiOB^'ta srhich. I Believe the whole history 0^ 

imbdeEn CLY^ized Europe can afibrd no parallel^ 

tAs&ir as'oureyes could reach over the hills 

' and fvaHeys of Kerry^ thev presented nothiog but 

a naked and desolate rocgy waste, of a uniform 

doll gray. N0 tree was to be seen, but here and 

! there a crippMl btroh. Small lakes of dark 

' Irater^ witb perfectly barren shores, lay^cattered 

tovieir this muontainous waste; 'and occasionally 

, «[ liltle variety was .afforded by a stretch of 

J^eatit, tinged «^ith a mddish colour ; and a patch 

of |;reen, potatoes, iKiund a cabin from which 

smoke was rising, showed here and there, like an 

< ohflds in the^dese$rt This is the g eneml cbaracr 

rttBT'oftlie scenery' orer ttte whole of the western 

Ndfofrtcts of. Ireland and Scotland. 

'ÜD Ihe midsst of this wilderness, the road 

branches off towards the resid^nee of the mosit 

' >icoiiJ^pteub«»^ man^'iti Iveliaiiid« to Deriynane Ab- 

^bQy,<*tlieMat>o^.]>aniel O'Connell. It lies at the 

• «^Jitoemepoiitiof aioentnattlaiutting out into the 

Aüanttc Oedatij About the ne^hbouring cpun- 

M^tryÜe tbeisehtaiof ^is eons, and various coBnei&- 

Mtt^ and some miles farther the village of Ca^ 

'liiiefv««n,'tke {dace of his bktb. The O^Con- 

•lieUB ate an 'old Irish race, and 'many of them 

. aFB'Stitt^pbssessed of considerable landed proper* 

: 4^;>biit'the bitench from wfaieh Daniel sprung 

werB'originäHy'Uöor^ and hold their estatiBs.only 

iiaa^middteilieit irom the gieat head, landlords. 

'BernfikaneiroBeof ihexamny Abbeys in Ireland, 

DKhiät,t since the- time of Henry VIII. and Oronih 

'wdi,havl& either been' turned lato family man- 

^ixMla, or IsaveiliUen into rdins. The ho^itaKty 

iof (yCoiiaelHs celebtatflfd over the whc4e coun- 

' tryy and his seat, when he resides there, is the 

ireiäezvoas of nmny strangers. <^en his ene- 

>-aaies have sorbetimes 'been compelled to ac- 

•■knowledge bis coartiesy In this respect. This 

'happened recently, to some ladies andgentle- 

anen, belonging to a well-known high Tory fem- 

ilv, irbo, travelling late one autumn evening 

aioBg a cit»8 lüad, in the vicinity of iXerrynane 

lAbbiy, had 'the misfortune to break their car- 

viage. Thedamage done to it was so great that 

tbesevvanliMdfectored it was impossible to pro- 

•esed^ ^aiid "«htlst its previtms occupants toiled 

on. on foot, through Wietd feittd rain, towards a 

lMkW'WkBM:>Ii8Ai& they had aeenftt adillMtce, 



thej' were met hv persons sent to theis assistance 

by its hospitable owner, v^-ho had bee'p inade 
aware of the accident. " Our •masterj*' th^y 
said, " begs thai you will do him the honour to 
make use. of his house, as long as it suits yo^r 
convenience." 

" We are most thankful to your master for his 
kindness," answered the way-worn travellers. 
" May we ingpire his name T' " Our master is 
Mr. Daniel O'Connell, and this is Derrynane 
Abbey !" came Uke a clap of thunder upon the 
party, some of whom hatl been for thirty year? 
m the habit of bestowing upon " Daa> as tliev 
call him, a variety of appellations, of which 
*♦ rjM[ular robber" had been one of the mildest. 

To the ladies, especiallv, who had formed to 
themselves at a distance the most frightful 'rep. 
resentations of him, the idea of actually meeupjg 
him face to face was most formidable, YeJ, 
what was to be done 1 Behind them lay the 
broken equipage, and the deep, miry roads of 
Kerry ; far and wide not even a hut was to be 
seen — the fierce November wind roared over 
from the Atlantic Ocean, the " Scotch mist^*had 
already pierced through the silk mantles of tHe 
ladies, and before them lay the refuge of tbie 
comfortabie " robber's cave," Hesitating and 
trembling, they approached the Abbey, and met 
the dreaded master of it standing at the hall-dopr, 
prepared to give them the most friendly recep-- 
tion. They remained at Derrynane that evening, 
and the whole of the next day, and were no less 
astonished than delighted at the amiable man« 
ners of their host, 

In speaking of the domestic life of O'Conuejl, 
he is frequently praised for his anxiety to avoid 
the agitating theme of politics in the presence of 
his guests, and in this respect his coouuct resem- 
bles that of most political men and heads, of pa)"- 
^ in England', who always endeavour to banish 
the strife of politics from their firesides. .In 
France, on the contrary, it is precisely in t^e 
salons, soirees, and family circles that' tl,ie?e 
things are most zealo\;tsly discussed. 

TJ^e high land along which our road had lam, 
declined. at length near Kenmare, to the leverof 
the shore, and across a wide arm of the sea we 
obtained a view of the opening to the, Atlantic 
Ocean. 

"Westward frota this point," the Iqsh sa^, 
"there is no land but America I" and, in faijt, 
the Irish ought to have been the discoverers Ipf 
it, &Mr,.ex^ceptlcelan4, Iceland lies mucli nearer . 
to that continent than any European counti^. 
These longj narrow peninsulas of Kerry stretch 
out a degree' and. a hjalf ^ther than the Spanish 
promontories, and exactly ^t this l^^titude New- 
foundl^aad and Labra<]U>r extend towards the east 
•further than any land or North America, exc^t 
the icy shores of Greenland. Had Ireland l)ee9 
peopled by the enterprising iSTorthm^, tl^cy 
would probably have found their way (o the 
central-narts of the American continent as, ear- 
ly, as Crom Iceland and Norway, thöy did >j 
those inhospitable and iron-bound coasts. ., 

The Azores lie near enough to the same lati- 
tude to form a convenient middle station, but the 
Celts' wcrC; incapable of following the course of 
discovery thus pointed out by nature, and it was 
not till the stream of the Germanic races flowed 
over their country that they too were borne to 
the opposite coasts of the Atlantic Ocean. 

The Kenmare river, on which lies the litÜe 
town of the same name^ is one of the most re- 
maskable in the woxld. It is aUttle monster of 



40 



IRELAND. 



a river, formed by three or^ibar iosigDificant 
brooks only a few miles in length, that uniting 
just above the town of Kenmare form a river 
more than a mile broad, which widens into a 
breadth of three, four, and five miles, before it 
falls into the Atlantic. The wonder may, how- 
ever, be explained as a little anomaly of Irish 
geography, which calls that a river that would 
more properly have been styled Kenmare Bay. 

The town is the property of the Earl of Ken- 
mare, to whom also belongs the whole town of 
Killamey. 

These Irish towns in fact all belong, not to the 
^tizens who inhabit them, but to certain great 
ianded proprietors. Thus Tralee belongs to the 
family of Denny, Waterford to the Marquis of 
Waterford, and even Belfast, a town with 60,000 
inhabitants, is the property of one man, the Mar- 
quis of Donegal. 

At Kenmare we found a suspension bridge, 
the only one in Ireland. The peninsula on the 
opposite side of the river, was, however, jqpl as 
barren and desolate as the one we had just left. 
Some of the mountains scattered over it are 
called the Glanerought mountains, and one is 
st3rled the Hcmgry Hill, an appellation extremely 
suitable to all the hills of Kerry. On the map 
are here laid down several rivers, which, al- 
though it was not the time of year when they 
were likely to be dry, I could not discover. Not 
even one of the little brooks was to be seen, in 
which our wood-cdvered Gterman hills are so 
abounding. The deposits of moisture from the 
atmosphere remain mostly in the morasses and 
bogs above described, and the hills and mount- 
ains may be regarded as huge sponges, which 
suck up the humidity at some seasons and at 
others become again dry and withered. They 
contain very few perennial springs. 

The nlant which flourishes most here is the 
furze, wnose yellow blossoms frequently enliven 
the dark valleys, and burst from the chinks and 
crevices of the rocks. 

These wild regions have never been better 
cultivated, or more thickly peopled, than they 
are at present, nor will probaoly oe so for many 
years to come. The Irish patriots talk indeed 
of the beautiful thick forests with whieh their 
island was once covered, but the assigned 
grounds for such a belief appear to me to be 
only a few uncertain traditions, and occasional 
expressions of some old writers. Such small 
islands as Madeira may possibly have been de- 
prived of their timber by wilful waste or acci- 
dent, but a forest as extensive as Ireland could 
not be obliterated from* the face of the earth, by 
the hand of man, in the course of a few centu- 
ries, even though, as has probably been the case 
in Ireland, these centuries bad passed in cease- 
less discord and contention. Ireland may indeed 
have formeriy had much more wood than it has 
at present, and the large trunks of trees found in 
the bogs prove this ; but I protest only against 
,the notion that this rocky desert was ever cov- 
ered by the endless beautiful groves I have heard 
' spoken of Besides the patcnes of potatoes be- 
fore mentioned, the landscape was here adorned 
by a not less pleasing feature, namely the new 
school buildings which rose on the waste. Even 
the road here is entirely new, not having been 
completed above a year and a half Extraordi- 
nary difficulties opposed themselves to its forma- 
tion ; in many places rocks had to be Masted, 
and at the highest point a tunnel had to be cut ' 
through a mountain^ and yet this is by no means 



the only undertaking of the kind coaqOete«! 
within these few years in Ireland. 

I had hitherto occupied the entire cushioned 
bench of the mail car, and I rejoiced when, as we 
were crossing a mountain, a woman jumped up 
and placed herself beside me. She was a Sul- 
livan — ^a name as common in Kerry as that of 
O'Brien in Clare, or Blennerfaasset in Tralee. 
The lower members of the dan are called bjthe 
simple name, but the more distinguished mark 
their superior rank by the addition of O — as 
0*Sullivan. Another family most widdy ex- 
tended in Kerry is that of the McCarthys, and I 
was informed that there were few people in the 
county who did not belong to one or otiier of the 
two clans. 

The woman wlis smoking, and had a lij^ted 
piece of turf in her hand, which she said she wa» 
going to carry to her husband, who was at work 
at a little potato field up among the rocks. ^ As 
I looked at her once or twice, she took her pipe 
from her mouth and offered it to me, but, sociy 
as I was, I felt compelled to decline the courte- 
sy. Strange, that all the world over so mvak 
politeness should be connected with this stinking 
weed. From the wigwam of the savage to the 
luxurious apartment of the^Turk, or the elegant 
saloon of Paris, tobacco, in some form or other, 
meets us everywhere as a token of oiviÜty, and 
the snuff-box handed to a stranger has just the 
same signification in civilized Europe as the 
pipe of peace in the hut of the Indian. 

At the top of the mountain Mrs. Sullivan got 
down from the car, and began to climb up the 
rocks with her lighted piece of turf in her nand, 
by the smoke of which we long distinguished her 
path. Wherever an Irishman is found there we 
are also sure to find potatoes end a smoking^ 
turf fire. 

Through broken and blasted rocks we reached 
at length the point where the road-makers seem 
to have wearied of winding in ä zigzag directien 
up the mountain, and to have resolved boldly to* 
cut their way through it. 

Af^er entering the tunnel we turned our backs 
upon Kerry, and issuing forth at its.southein ex- 
tremity, we beheld the county of Cork lying be- 
fore us lit by the rays of a brilliant sun. 

This is the largest county in Ireland, as the 
stranger hears from almost every one he meets^ 
as long as he remains in it. it contains no less 
than 1,800,000 acres of land, that is, about nine 
times as much as Louth, the smallest county. 
Many parts of it are as wild and uncultivated as 
the districts I have described in Kerry^ and the 
usual estimate is, that about thnse-fiftasmly-of 
the land are under tillage, the remanung two- 
fifths consisting of unimproved mountain and 
bog. In Kerry one-half is rock and moorktad. 
The best cultivated county in Irelaod is Meatfa». 
lying to the west of Dublin, and the most uncul- 
tivated Donegal, in the north, for it contains no 
less than 650,000 acres of waste land to 560,000 
under cultivation. On the whole, rather more 
than one-fourth of all Ireland may be considered 
as waste mountain and bog. On the average, 
every acre of land in Ireland produces, one with 
another, a rental of twelve snillings and nine- 
pence. In Kerry, and Donegal, however, an acre 
IS not worth more than six shillings, that is to- 
say, less than the half of the average value^ 
whilst in the counties near DoUin it briags 
above twentv shfllinppB— more than three times 
the rent of the wild districts. 

At the rery entiaace to the coimiy of Cork 



IRELAND. 



we come to another celebrated little Paradise— 
the mouDtainoas district of Glengariff. Here we 
meet with iimumeiable cars laden with sea-sand 
i*roceediQg mto the interior. It is found very 
useful to mix with the cold day and the acrid 
bog earth) as the Irish say, ''the sea-sand cuts 
np the clay," and without it much of the land 
BOW under cultivation would be entirely useless. 
The fine new roads make the transport of this 
article much easier than it was formerly, and 
contribute, therefore, not a little to the improve- 
ment of the agriculture of the country. The 
sand from Bantrv Bay, called ^ coral sand," is 
thought especially advantageous. It consists, 
in a great measure, of broken shells and chalk. 

The valleys of Glengariff are richly wooded 
and sprinkled with many pretty country houses, 
and the bay on which the village lies is as full 
of islands as the lakes of Killarney. 

This is the renowned Bantry Bay, so spacious, 
so deep, so tranquil, and so well sheltered on all 
sides, that it is said all the fleets in the world 
might safelv anchor in it. It was in this bay 
that, towards the close of the last century, the 
French attempted a landing; here that, accord- 
ing to Thomas Moore, the colonists from Spain 
landed above a thousand years ago; and here, 
too, in all probability, the Phosoiciaas first set 
foot in Ireland, at some miknown period. 

The prospect from the mountains over these 
waters is truly charming, and just as much so 
die road running round the bay, into which sev- 
eral little rivers pour their waters, while several 
inlets of the sea run far into the land. We 
croesed them by bridges overgrown by rich dra- 
p^ies of ivy, and several small islands were 
connected with the main land in a similar way. 
The steep headlands running out into the sea 
were ofien covered with potatoes to their farthest 
points, and sometimes with turf. In one of the 
little creeks we found a boat laden with oysters, 
generally very abundant on. the western coasts 
of Ireland. For sixpence we bought such a 

auantity that some of our company overeat 
lemselves, and had to remain behind, indis- 
r)6ed, at Bantry. Apropos of oysters, whenever 
ate them in Ireland, somebody was sure to tell 
me a certain story of a man, who, having been 
advised. to eat oysters by way of exciting an ap- 
petite, complained to his doctor that though he 
eat a hunared every da^r before dinner he had 
not noticed that his appetite was a bit better than 
it used to be. As this anecdote never foiled to 
be told me on such occasions, I suppose I must 
set it down as a national Irish oyster anecdote. 

BANTRY, AND A VISIT TO IRISH BEG- 
GARS. 

The town of Bantry, lying on a little ele- 
gantly-formed bay, enrvtng from the great one, 
is a very pretty place, and ao I have generally 
found the towns lying pnmediately on the coast 
of Irebmd. Idleness, disorder, poverty, dirt, 
decay, and ruin exist to a far greater extent in 
the interior. There is in the very nature of the 
sea something essentially fresh, healthy, and 
animating, that acts, perhaps, with a beneficent 
influence on those who dwell along its shores. 

The fisheries of Bantry Bay were formeriy 
celebrated, but now, as of so many other Eu- 
Topean fisheries, we hear that they are no long- 
er so productive as they were, either because 
the fish has greatly diminished in quantity, or 



that it has takeh another direction. If tfa 
branch of industry have declined, however, a 
other kind of fishing, that for sea-sand, is mu( 
on the advance. Formerly there were but fe 
vessels employed in it, but now the numb 
has so much increased that it has been deem( 
advisable to build a separate quay for thei 
along which I saw them lying in a long roi 
The greater ~^activity manifested of late in tl 
improvement and extension of Irish agricultu 
has given the great impulse to this branch 
trade. 

Even in this comparatively flourishing plac 
however, ;here are beggars and rags enougl 
as we found to our cost when we entered tl 
fish market, which is a court surrounded t 
walls. Scarcely had I and my companions ei 
tered this place than we were surrounded t 
twenty or thirty beggars, who closed the ire 
gates behind us and declared they would m 
let us out again till we had purchased our frei 
dorn. As we hesitated about complying wii 
a demand made in this style, the fishwomc 
came to the rescue and drove away the bej 
gars, but only to plant themselves before tl 
door and declare that the tribute to be paid b« 
longed of right to them. 

The town belongs to the Eari of Bantr 
whose son. Lord Berehaven, takes his tit: 
from an island lying in the bay. Both thes 
noblemen were absent, although they do in 
belong to the class of absentees, but usually n 
side here on their charming domains. 

We paid a visit to their castle, which lies c 
the sea shore at the distance of an agreeab] 
walk, but the housekeeper made at first som 
difficulty abou^t showing it, as " my lord*' W£ 
" very particular, and the castle was all papen 
up." The idea of an entire castle wrapped J 
paper certainly excited ,my curiosity, and ha^ 
ing found means to overcome the scruples < 
the housekeeper, we entered, and found, as ha 
been described, ^ery thing from top to bottoj 
of the house wrapped in paper~-that is, in tt 
great sheets of the Cork Constitutional, the p^ 
per of the largest circulation in this part of Ir< 
land. The <äairs and tables, the chandelier 
the walla, the banisters, the door handles, tt 
"doors themselves, all were confided to the pn 
teetion of the Cork Constitutional, to presen 
them from dust or injury in the absence of tA 
family. £ven< a metal figure of St. Patrie* 
and some antique metal dishes, hanging on tl 
wall near it, were carefully wrapped up. Tl 
latter were said to be Spanish, but I could fii 
nothing about them to indicate such an origiii 

The entire mansion, though of great antiqq 
ty, wanted nothing of modern elegance 99. 
comfort ; the English alone understand how \ 
make themselves really comfortable in one < 
these old castles. 

My companion, a gentleman from London 
derry with whom I had agreed to join corapa« 
for the journey through Cork, related to me, i 
the evening, a remarkable case of temperaiM 
that had come under his observation in a ae 
v^nt of his own, who, though a quick cievi 
fellow, had formerly been a sad drunkard, fi 
(the master) had tried all means to reform hii 
had exhorted, threatened, and even premisi 
him rewards for remaining sober, but. all hi 
been in vain, and regarding him as quite inco 



43 



IRELAND. 



rigible, he had at last dimissed him. One day,, 
liowever, the man made; his af^pfearnitce deco- 
rated with Father jMäthew^s temperance medal, 
and begged to be received into his fbrmer place,. 
f declaring that he had become a temperance 
man, was goiiig to talte the pledge, and had 
made np his mind never to drink again. Know- 
ing the character of the Irish, the mäster re- 
ceived the penitent, perfectly confident that he 
sboQld find him an altered man ; nor was he 
deceived, fbr from that timd the fbrmer sot 
^dotttinned a sober, nsefol, and exemplary ser- 
vant. 

i ten ibis anecdote merely becaase thousands 
like it meet one at every turn, and prove the 
itötonisbrn^ change from black to white, which 
tias suddenly beien effected thrDOgfaout Ireland 
i)y Father Mathew. These anecdotes throw a 
"l^markable light on the Irish character, and on 
'the temperance cause, and I think one cannot 
"hear them too often. The testimony of «r^ 
landlord at Killamey here occurred to me a^ain. 
He deehtred that he had formerly had so much 
trouble owing to the drunkenness and qoarrel- 
iing of his people, that he had never slept sound- 
ty until within the last two or' three years, that 
is, since the temperance movement began. 
Now, he told me, he ho longer dreaded fht» 
'Saturday as a regulär day of riot, when his 
boatmen often used to spend all they had earn- 
ed in the previous wCek. Now they all came 
hbirie sober, the horses and the boats were 
properly taken care of, and as if by enchant- 
ment every thing weiit on in quiet and order. 

My companion told me, he had a few weeks 
^pi been at the fair at Donegal, where at least 
10,000 people were assembled, and where for- 
"^merly rioting, fighting, and drunkenness had 
been the order of the day ; this year nothing Of 
'the kind had come to his knowledge, it was 
^' like enchantment," he said. 

As mfy friend Was rather fatigued, he retard 
eatly, and I went out alone tp take a walk late 
^ixi the evening on the sea-shore, and soon per- 
^^ivedti ijomethhig, I could not make out what, 
thiovfns before me. As it passed a house some 
tays of light fVomi a window liiscovered to me 
41 stiTange kind of bead gear decorated with 
!fiowers^ which I recöliectä to have been worn 
by a beggar woman whom I had seen- hi the 
' iflsh-^mairket. She was one ^i the mOb wh<> had 
'Closed th«e gates behind us, a^nd in the wildne^ 
anid eagerness of her gestkulatjons had isug- 
^esied to me soiae doubts of hwr ^sanity, a «tts- 
^ieion somewhat ooftfirmed by the fantastic 
•ebaractefr df her attire. She wore a yellow 
plBtlnCoat, ^e tattered retnaina of a large i«d 
Bttai^I, which she trailed behind her tn the dust 
like a ti^ain, and a man's round hat, with a 
%road btim decorated with a garland of artifi- 
«leial towers. In her hand she carried a stout 
43tick, by the aid oi which she moved swifkfy 
Hionf . Altogether she reminded me of a ehar- 
/aeter in one of Wah»r Scott's novels, as these 
half InMEine, oddly decorated beggars always do, 
•for she was by no means the only one of the 
4^ss I had seen in Ireland. 

Mary SolUvan, for that vi^as her flame, was 
iifow prooeeding in a very quiet orderly man- 
ner along the shore of Bantry Bay ; at last I 
} «pprooahed and bade her good evening, and she 
«aade a ferfectly civil re^. ]jt i^peared that 



her business for the day was over, and, although 
irhe strll wore the costuihe of her part, t^e bad 
left the stage, tind was on the point of -return- 
ing to her private abode. As shf said it was 
situated not far from the town, on the shorea 
of the bay, I offered to accööipahy her to it, fbt 
I had a wish to see the dti^elling of an Irish 
beggar at night. 

We crossed some broken rocky ground, and 
at last, as it seemed to me, turned quite out of 
the beaten path, but Mäiy Slillivan said there 
was no other way, so on we weUt. I^he said 
if I would give her mv hand she would lead me 
in safety to the but, which it appeared belonged, 
not to her, but to her sister. These poor peo- 
ple generally prefer a wild looking place to 
live in ; they seem to think they are more in- 
dependent if their abodes are not very acces- 
sible, and the benefits of the great undertakings 
of the English in road making, are by no means 
90 universally acknowledged by the Irish as we 
might suppose, We reached at last the hut of 
ihe Sullivans, which stood on a naked rocky 
ground, washed by tt^ waters of Bantry Bay, 
and crept in. The Irish are a very religious 
people, and have all kinds of pretty pious salu- 
tations always at b-and. If they pass people at 
work in a field the regolar form is ^' God bless 
your woik," and the answer "Save you too." 
If one praises a person, or even a thing, or 
more especially a child, one omist never forget 
to add '' God bless it,*' fdr praise always seeoM 
suspicious to an Irishman, and, unless accbm- 
pan led by an invocation of God's blessing, it 
appears to him to indicate a desire either to 
possess It oneself or to destroy it by calling to- 
wards if the attention of fairies and bad spirits, 
who are always -on Ihe look out for wh^ is 
beautiful. An Irish mother would rather beat 
a stranger say, '' What a nasty, screaming, 
disagreeable brat your child is," than ** What 
a charming IHtle angel you've got there," un- 
less he instantly warned off the bad spirits by 
adding "God bless him.*' As they never for- 
get to ask a blessing, they are also most dili- 
gent in returning thankis. *" Thanks to th^e 
great God,"is a phrase often in their mouths, and 
certainly I beliöve in their hearts alöo. They Of- 
ten utter this thanksgiving even when speaking 
of a misfortune, as "I've lost my poor, dear little 
child, tJianks to the ^eat God," a phrase that 
alwayä reininded me of the Russian " slawa, 
hogu,'" Which, generally closes every story. 

We crept into ihe hut of the Sullivans With 
the usual salutation of ^* God save you all,*^ and 
heard the, response *< God sav» you kindly" 
frorn the sister of Mary Sullivan aUd her'häff- 
grown daughter, who were crouching over a 
turf üre boiling potatoes. A little girl and boy 
were lying- on the ground in eompahy with 
some pigs, and gnawing a half-raw potato 
which th^ had teiken item the p<»t. 

The but wa» ligheed partfy by the firte, attd 
partly by a dim lamp, that bung from a rafter. 
The lamp was a large sea shelU filled with fish 
oil, in which vras burning a-rosh wiük. 

The father "was not at home, having been for 
some days upon the water, helping to collect 
«oral sandybm anöther'Stmngsly soundhig Voice 
ossne^rom the comer of the hovel, whksfa had 
taken no pait in the tpiooa salutatioiiw I askad 
who was BiMHiing there. «*>it ia mr eldeat«QR^ 



yowr honour,'' wa« tbe i^oply, ** he'» a« .idto»^ 
thank the great God— -attd be'oftea moans «o 
the whole Bay 4oeg.'*' By the feeble iglimmer 
of the lamp I novir recognised a poor creature, 
who seemed U> me more tniserable and helpless 
than almost any I bad «ver h^eld. It was a 
yottngman about twenty years of age^ lyii^in 
a sort of box, representing a bed^ and which 
xras indeed the best bed the hut cotttsined. He 
had under him straw and rags^ and a pillow for 
hi8bead,.but he lay sobbing and. trembling all 
over. His mother ahowed me some parts of 
his miserable frame. His arms and legs were 
like those of a skeleton, and several of bis fin- 
(Cers had grown together. 4b we tocmhod ihim 
he lifted ap his head, aaid ijazed aft ■• with a 
vacant kwk. 

"He has been so from hi» Inrth, your hon- 
our/' said the mother. ** For twenty years we 
•have been obligcid to feed him so^ wtthotit his 
ibeing able to do (he least thing fbr as," 

''^And yet you k»ye him 1" said I to the ^poor 
mother, thinking perhaps that an unfortunale 
•creature like this could hardly bo attended to 
in the midet of such .poverty. 

'* Lov^ him 1 to be sure, your hontrar. IsitU 
he my own son« God bless him. fib; Mavour- 
riieen, lo«^ up then," ehe addfed» raisiag him 
^arefoUy up, and taying his head on her arm, 
while she stroked his cnppled hand. <*rm 
>the Oftly«ne» sir, IbatitnderBtands bis language. 
He never asks after any body but me. < I give 
him every morning his potatoes, and, when Tve 
got any, mäk and porridge. Yon see he's -got 
a better bed than • any of us. Doin't sob so, 
darling." 

Mary Sullivan, the old aunt of the idioil, had, 
in the mean tinje, bting upon a peg hfer flower- 
adorned hat, and the other parts of her costhoM, 
and taken from her packet some' potatoes nod 
a fish, ^h ich had probably been giTcn to her. 
The potatoes she laid at the comer .of the fire, 
iHrhicb she seemed to consider as her own, hiiog 
the fish up by a wire oirer it «OTdftst, and then 
4oofc ont her pipe and h^an t» smoke. She 
ftxM me, in answer to my goeatton, thait she 
spent about a halfpenny a-day ia tohasofl^ lihat 
4s fifteen shillmgs aryeor, which* for« a beggar, 
■appeared to menomoonsideralde sdm. Fora 
halfpenny one oan buy, in Ireland» a lai^e piece 
of bvtad ; and I could not help wishing that 
some «eoond Father Mathew might arise, to 
preach a total abstinence frdm tobacco, and in«- 
duce the poor Irish women to eaqiehd what it 
^o^ts them in whoiesome .ieOd ^r Cfaemaellves 
or their children. 

TiendemesB and honpitdity are the universal 
ebaracteristics oT the Irish. They have also 
.a certain easy pobteocss of manner towards 
strangers, which, in the higher classes^ some* 
nvhat resembles that of the Paiiisians, but is 
met with just as often in the huts «f the fiotar« 
'Cst beggars. In many countries, the stpaogeir 
tirho' enters the hut of a poor fkmily, is sKared 
at in dumb astonishment ky the inmatea, till 
they bdcome familiar' With him. Not so in Ire- 
laod jpirty and ragged as iUej am, they oflfer 
'What tney have, without embarrassment, to the 
moat fttshionab^-dressed risiter ; and although 
Ihey never forget the raapecUhl addl-ass^ *'yonr 
honour," yet they always appear to consider 
Mm what, he reai^y is^theur guest and isqadl. | 



'IHrBL.A;ND. 43 

When! parted from the SuUivans, I was ac- 
companied to the door by many a warm *< God 
speed ye»" and by the most cordial thanks for 
the honour I had done them by my visit, and 
for the sympathy I. had expressed for the un- 
fortunate son and brother. The twg little ones 
had, in the meantime, lighted a, couple of dry 
fagots, byway of torches, and accompanied me 
out over their irregular mountain path. When 
at last I drove them back, and bade them fare- 
well, I saw them for some time standing to- 
gether on the hitl-top, throwing the light of their 
torches before me on my oath, while their clear, 
sharp, childish voices ecooed around, as they 
shouted, " Take care, your honour ! take care. 
God speed ye !" 



FROM BANTRY TO CORK. 

The next morning, although the day had not 
yet dawned, our'travelling car was already sur- 
rounded by a troop of beggars. Hunger had 
driven the poor creatures to work at their 
dreary trade before the dawn. I did not. no- 
tice Mary Sullivan's -garlanded hat among the 
crowd. Probably, living with her sister, sho 
was a little better oft* than the rest, and could 
sleep and smoke a little longer. 

i^mong these beggars was an old man of par- 
ticularly miserable appearance, who >y<as wheel- 
ed about on a barrow. He constantly kept whi- 
ning out, from among the crowd, in a weal( 
iroice, his melancholy song, which consisted of 
these words ; " Hundred and five years old ! 
Blind and wesbk ! And a hundred and five years 
old !" His miserable app^raoce gained him 
the victory over all the rest, and he got the lit: 
tie which we had to give. As I aot into the 
^sar, I noticed that the little boy vnio wheeled 
the old man about pushed bis arm, and told 
him that a good gentleman had thrown some 
halfpence into his barrow. *' God bless h\m ! 
Long life to him ! God savehishonoor ! God 
carry him home !" accompanied us on our way, 
murmured in a trembling voice by the poor old 
human century. 

Our way from Bantry to Cork — about fifty 
miles in length—lay through a very barren and 
uninteresting country, which is not nuicb bet- 
ter cultivated than Kerry, and which wants the 
interesting diversity of hill and dsde, and steep 
declivity, presented by that country. A wilder«- 
ness can only be attractive when mountaionoua, 
and a plain oan only please when carefully cul- 
tivated. The on^ exception to the dreary mo- 
notony of this road is the little town of Banden, 
lying oh the Banden river, which is prettily em- 
boeomed in trees, nnd whose environs are adorn« 
ed with neat villas and country seats. Banden». 
I am told, is as famous in the south of Ireland 
for the order, tranquillity, and loyolty of its citi* 
sens, as Londonderry is in the North. I do not^ 
know the reason of this with respect to Baadon, 
With respect to Londonderry, the explanation 
will be found .in its origin. The town was 
foqnded by a colony of Londoners, and may con- 
sequently have brought with it the germ of a 
loyal and peaceable disposition from the city of 
the Thames. '^ Loyal Derry" is its name all 
orer Ireland. 

The best thing on this rood is the cheap rate 
at which one may travel up^ it. We drore 



44 



IRELAND. 



üfty infles here for three-and-sixpenee, which 
is not a penny a mile, while on the road from 
Killamey to Bantry we paid twice the money 
for half the distance. On that road, which I 
was told was quite a new one, there existed no 
husy intercourse and no competition, while on 
the Bantry and Cork road "a great opposition" 
was going on. Two rival cars had been estab« 
lished, and vied with one another in speed of 
transport and lowness of price. This competi- 
tion, however, had only been 'going on for the 
last two years. 

The principal owner and hnprover of cars in 
Ireland is an Italian called Bianconi, whose ex- 
tensive speculations have made his name so fa- 
mous, that he well deserves mention, especially 
as he is one of the rare instances pf a foreigner 
whose speoolative ingenuity has beat the Eng- 
lish within their own territory. This remftrka- 
ble man, whose horses and cars now occupy al- 
most all the roads in Ireland, was originally 
tone of those little Italian hoys who abound in 
all the towns of the kingdom, and who wander 
about either with barrel-organs or with plaster 
images. As he was a IVugal and industrious 
boy, he soon prospercKl with his images, and 
was able to buy other kinds of merchandise. 
To carry about all his goods on his own back 
soon became too troublesome, and he bought a 
little donkey and donkey-cart. When the don- 
key became unequal to the increasing press of 
business, he bought a horse. This horse he did 
not, however, always use, and when he could 
spare it, he let it out on hire for money and 
civil words. He soon found that the hire of 
the horse brough him in more than the profit on 
his wares, and he therefore bought another 
horse, in order to let one out on hire, while he 
continued his business with the other. At the 
same time he improved his cart, so that he could 
transport a few passengers in it along with his 
goods. In this manner he gradually establish- 
' ed himself as a car driver in the town of Clon- 
mel, which lies northeast of Cork. 

At first he drove only to and f^om places at 
a little distance from Clonroel, such as Cork, 
Kilkenny, &c. For this purpose he built large, 
open, convenient ears resting on springs, such 
as I have above described. In these long, nar- 
row vehicles, which are capable of containing a 
great many travellers and goods, he was ena- 
bled to transport passengers at a very low price. 
He promoted, also, the establishment of many 
other conveyance-cars, and drove, or, rather, 
had carmen who drove, on many roads where, 
tin, then, no regular modes of conveyance had 
existed. While thus he bought horse after 
horse, built car after car, and took carman after 
carman into his service, he gradually intersect-^ 
ed all Ireland with his conveyances, and estab- 
lished his business on a grander scale than had 
ever before been seen. He now possesses no 
less than 600 large cars and 1500 horses in con* 
stant employment. He has become not only a 
very wealthy, but quite a great mpn in the coun- 
try, and his countiymen by adoption praise hi^ 
benevolence no less than his sagacity. 

Mr. Bianconi has had little maps of Ireland 
engraved, on which are traced the routes pur- 
sued by all his cars, and he has employed artists 
to illustrate his enterprises. There is a whole 
series of engravings, known by the name of the 



" Bianeoni ears," which are met with iir aH 
parts o( Ireland. One represents the packing 
up and getting ready of one of these singular 
conveyances ; a second, its arrival at one of 
Bianconi*8 inns ; a third, Bianconi's passengers 
surprised by a shower of rain ; a fourth, the 
whole car with its four horses, and all its goods 
and passengers, briskly traversing a mountain 
road ; a fifth, a car changing horses in the 
midst of a xvide, dreary wilderness of bog and 
morass, while the passengers are dismounting 
to take a little exercise, dec, dec. 

CORK. 

The Kerry men are, as has been said, inteffi- 
gent, hot poor, and somewhat clownish in their 
manners ; the Limerick people are good-looking- 
and polite ; the Dublin people are obliging and 
hospitable, and the most polite and refined of 
aU the Irish. ** And what are the Cork peo- 
ple V* asked I, of my travelling companion, wh(^ 
gave me these particulars, as we dismounted at 
the Commercial Hotel. "Rather sharp!*' he 
replied. ** They like to make themselves merry 
at other people's expense, and are distinguish- 
ed from all the other Irish, by a peculiar, keen, 
ironical humour. They soon discover anyone's 
weak aide, and are merciless in the use of their 
fine but cutting sarcasms." '''And have the 
Cork people themselves no weak side?" ^* Oh, 
yes," and while my friend was still considering 
what he should say to that, a dreadful noise 
broke out just beneath our window, from one 
of the Temperance-bands which perambulate the 
streets of Cork at night, and it being Saturday 
evening, the musicians were followed by a 
crowd of people, showing me that one of the 
weak sides of the Cork peofde must be their 
ears. 

The next day, when I visited the picture-gal- 
lery of the good city of Cork, I perceived that 
the Cork people must have another weak aide,, 
somewhere in the direction of their eyes, since 
upon the diflibrent pieces, of canvass stretched 
out here, so many distorted shapes and ugly 
oolonrs were brought together, that their want 
of liarmooy disturbed me almost as much as the 
Temperance music of the preceding night. As, 
however, I had visited them, neither to delight 
myself with beautiful works of art, nor to amuse 
myself by criticizing the taste of the Cork peo- 
ple, but to search for something characteristic 
of the country and the place, I found that I had 
not wasted my time. 

The painters of every country, particulaily in 
countries were tableaux de genre are much 
sought after— always reflect in their paintings 
so mneh that is characteristic of the manners 
and customs of their nation, the climate, and 
geography of their country, that whoever makes * 
these his study, will find picture galleries most 
vidaable sources of information, and should not 
despise the most insignificant collections. 

Thus in the Cork collection, I found the busts 
of the mayors and aldermen of Cork, of the late 
mayor of Dublin, Daniel O'Connell, and of Fa- 
ther Mathew. Next to these came an evait 
gration scene of poor Irish leaving tneir. bOi^; 
loved Erin for the " far west*' of America ; then 
a group of Irish fishermen, and then some wild 
mountain sceoes and turf morasses. • 

The best thing that a painter can do, is t« 



^ IBELAN^D. 



45 



represent the characteristic scenes and events 
of his own country : for then, however small 
his talents, he is sure of having something to 
represent which he T<nows and understands, 
and which, if only tolerably accurately copied, 
will be sure of being of some use in the world. 
Tes, even the greatest geniuses, perhaps, can 
attain the highest eminence only while they 
Iceep within the horizon of their nationality, 
and are most sure to excel, when they embody 
national characteristics and national scenes. 
The greatest painters, like the greatest poets, 
have always been genuine patriots, and their 
finest creations have alway» borne traces of 
the age and natron from which they sprang. 

The strength of Cork, however, lies in quite 
another direction than that of art. This town 
is well-known to be the chief shipping port for 
the raw produce of all the soathefn part of Ire- 
land, an4 It therefore, hastened to the ware- 
liouses of the town, to its slaughter-houses, pack- 
ing, salting, and provision houses, and butter- 
"weighing machines or firkin ctanes, and to 
karn something^ of those branches of industry 
which occupy the greatest part of the pbpula- 
tidh. < 

In the neighbourhood of Oork are »Hoated 
the largest dairies of Ireland. Kerry and other 
grazing counties lying near, great quantities of 
butter, ham, bacon, meat, and cattle are brought 
to Cork, just as Dublin exports principally grain, 
because it lies in the midst of ah agricultural 
district. Butter being one of the principal 
'wares of Cork, its butter market and firkin 
«crane are two of the most interesting sights in 
the town. The butter is brought to the town 
in little tubs called firkins, artd the weight and 
quality of each firkin are decided by a board of 
butter inspectors, whose chief is entitled a gen- 
eral crane>master. upon each firkin is stamp- 
ed the quantity and quality, as fixed by the in- 
spectors, and thus the oredit of the extensive 
Cork butter trade» is kept up. As Cork butter 
is often intended for very distant places, it is 
very strongly salted. The mountain butter of 
Kerry has the reputation of being very "firm 
in body," as the phrase is. 

At the great provision merchants' warehous- 
•es enormous quantities of life stores are collect- 
ed together. Huge and excellent hams are 
ranged in long rows, like the folios and octavos 
of a library. ' In the suburbs of Cork there are 
large slaughter-houses for pigs, in which thou- 
aands of the inmates and reiit-payers of the 
Irish cabins annually expire. I should like to 
know with what thoughts and feelings poor hun- 
gry Paddy studies these vast libraries of bacon ! 
It is dreadful to think that the poor Irish should 
have to furnish other countries with such vast 
quantities of that which they themselves are 
starving for want pf. If Paddy, however, was 
but a little more industrious, be might keep 
many of these fine fat hams ia his own chim- 
ney, instead of seeing them sail away thousands 
of miles, to feed her Majesty's soldiers in thß 
Bast or West Indies. 

Some of the most interesting sights in this 
town are the establishments of those merchants 
veho deal in fresh provisions, which they pre- 
serve by various devices. Those men are 
known by the name of preserved fresh provis- 
ion merchants. The preserved fresh provision 



trade is one which has been only established in ' 
Ireland during the last twenty years, and the 
art has lately been brought to an extraordinary 
<legree of perfection, which out of Great Britain 
it could never have attained, since no other 
country has occasion to send all kinds of pro- 
visions to such distant regions of the globe. I 
went over the great establishment of Mr. Gam- 
ble, " Patent ifi-eserved Fresh Provision Mer- 
chant to her Majesty's NavyJ^and to the Hon- 
ourable the East India Company." In his 
warehouses I saw eatables ^f all imaginary 
kinds, so skilfully packed up m tin or pewter 
cases, that they would keep quite fresh for years 
together. Even milk and cream are so skilful- 
ly prepared and packed, that if a traveller take 
a case with him on a voyage round the world, ' 
and open it in the Indian Ocean or the South 
Pacific, he will find its contents as fresh and 
sweet as if just drawn from the cow. The 
principal points to be observed are the close- 
ness and imperviousness of the vessel, the 
choice of the best quality of everything, and the 
keeping the provisions themselves, as well as 
^he vessels in which they are contained, com- 
pletely air-tight. 

To what perfection this art of preserving has 
been carried, is proved by the testimony of Cap- 
tain Ross. In the year 1824, he bought diflTer- 
ent cases of vegetables to take with him on hia 
Northern Expedition. Many of these cases re- 
mained behind in the stranded ship Fury, and 
were not found again till the month of August, 
1838, that is,, nine years afterward. And al- 
though during this period they had been sub- 
jected to all the extremes of that northern cli- 
mate—in winter to a cold of fifty-two degrees 
below zero of Fahrenheit, and in summer to a 
heat of eighty degrees— yet when the ca^s 
were opened their contents were foupd perfect^ • 
ly fresh and eatable. 

Every thing about this brahch of trade is 
beautifully complete. Some of the cases of 
cream are made to hold just enough for twelve 
cups, others for twenty-foür or thirty-six cups. 
The captain, therefor?, who provides himself at 
these places has only to give the number of his 
officers and passengers, and is supplied with 
cases containing the axact daily portion requi- • 
red for his ship. Thus by opening one case 
every day, as fresh and regular ä supply is kept ' 
up as if there were cows on board, in the same 
way the portions of meat and vegetables in 
each case are calculated for k certain num- 
ber of persons, and there is also this great 
advantage, that almost every thing is ready < 
cooked, so as to spare both firing and trouble, i 
Sauces and soups of all possible kinds are thus 
prepared according to the rules of the first cu- 
linary authorities, and require only to be warm 
ed up by the inexperienced hand of a common 
seaman, to ftirnish forth the choicest delica- 
cies on the barren ocean. 

The harbour of Cork is rich in entertaining 
spectacles, and among these I must mention 
the embarkation of Irish pigs, cows, and oxen 
for exportation. The shipping 6f a cargo ot 
pigs is a particularly amusing sight, and is al- 
ways sure of having hundred of spectators. It 
is an inexhaustible source of entertainment to 
him who spends a leisure hour in loitering 
about the harbour, to watch the humorous ges- 



46 



IRELAND. 



ticulationv, and listen to the noi$y lamentatioQs 
of poor Paddy, when he bids farewell, for the 
last time, to his reot-payers, the pigs» ^nd see» 
them embark in the ship which is to bear them 
far away from the shores of old Erin. Then 
there are ships laden with buUer-firkios. What 
a weaJthy country poor Ireland mnat seem to 
those who» from her scarcityi shall enjoy this 
rich aba^daoce! Another ship exports grain, 
and the poor porters stagger under the weight 
of great sacks of com, alittle of which would, 
make a feast in th§ir hungry cabins« but not a 
g^ain of which they will eyer taste ! A third 
vessel is providing itself wiih stores of ship's 
biscuits, baked in the great steam-miU bakeries 
of Cork, and dried to keep for years. It seemis 
strange that poor hungry Ireland, nnmbers of 
whose children die annually of hunger and its 
consequences» and in. whose hospitals and bflla 
of mortality, "starvation" forms as regular. a 
heading as any other complaint, should yet have 
to feed fronoL her own scarcity the populatipn oX 
many a richer country I 

One of the most interesting and instructive 
places I visited at Cork, was the county-jail» 
whieh contains both debtors and criminals. 
The governors of the English prisons are cer- 
tainly the most obliging and liberal in the world 
towards visiters, aä are so ready to assist and 
satisfy the inquisitive stranger, and' to afford 
him every information in their power, that I 
cannot think without gr^titi^daof the treatment, 
I have experienced at their hands. They seem 
to. have no prpfessiaqal secrets. They open toi 
the visiter their books and reports, nqt only al* 
lowing, but encojQraging and nrginji; him, to put 
all sorts of questions to the prtaoners; and 
they oilen even send him usefpl books, doeuT 
ments, and treatises, Ux his own house, to as- 
sist him in his investigations, 

Tbe.mosl remarkable fact which leathered 
finQm, the reports, so kindly lent me at Cork, was 
tha a^^aordinary.diminuiÄoa.of crime in I^re^ 
land, since the beginning of the temperance 
niovemeot. As I do not think that tbia great 
change has been sufficiency made known, I will 
p\it together a few of those facts which tend to 
prove aod illustrate it 

In the year 1839 the criminals of all kinds, 
bfonght to trial in Ireland^ ainounted to 2<i,3d2 ; 

In til» yev 184» to 89,8U 
« " 1841 " «0^90 

TbQs, in three years, the nnmber of crtmin^ 
ab has been diminished by St per cent. Of all 
the different crimes, that of murder ha« happi- 
ly experienced the greatest diminutioR. 

In 1839^ the oonvictita» fat «nvjcder ««»oiinte4 to 986 
«< 1840 " « " »• Ifld 

«1841 " " " " ISO 

Three years,, therefore, give us a reduction 
in the number of murders by more than one 
half«. Other causes may have contributed to 
this salutary change, but so considerable and 
sadden an improvement must be attributed 
chiefly to the operation of temperance. 

A comparison of these Irish criminal statis- 
tios with those of England for the same dates« 
is. any thing hut to the advantage of the latter. 
In England the number of crimes has increased, 
almost as much as in Ireland it has diminiälied. 
In England — 



In (he jwr 18S8, 93,004 erinainftls wtra tnoofht to triaL- 
i* •• 181», 94,443 

M " 1840,87,187 ** « ** 

" " 1841,17,760 " ** " 

In spite of this, howe^nef; the propprtjon of 
crininaia to the popalatian is atiU greater ini 
Ireland than in Eogiaod. In 1641 Irland bad 
8,000,000 inhabibaiits, and aboot 20,000 com- 
mktais» tberelbre one persoa aooosed of crime 
for eveiy -409 inbahilanta ; while in England, 
daring the same year, the population amounted 
to- about IfikOOO.OOO, and thenamber of eon^ 
mittals: to 37300^ which gives one a^sused ta 
every hStB inhabitanla. In order, however« to^ 
ascectaini this fact to a oertaiaty, it would ha 
neeessaiy t« inquire first, whether the criminal 
staiistioa of Englatd and Ireland are calcniaieA 
quite in< th» ««PAe way. 

The eomiMirativa wimbem^f mnrders in Eng- 
land and Ireland, is partieularlyi remarkable. la 
Ei^Stod^ 

In ÜMTaAr 1899, 40Biuderftware<Mniinitted or attompUdL 
" »» U40»^ " " " " 

" " 1844,63 " '* " " 

In Ireland» >coaaeqo|antly, in.^e year 183d,. 
five times as many murders were committed 
as in Enghmd ; and in 1841, when the number 
of murders bad' increased in England and di- 
minished: in Ireland, only twice an many. Pro* 
partionably to. thm populationt however, the 
Iriah murders were eleven times aa many in 
1838» and four times aa many in 1841, 

If in Ireland, however, wa inolttdathe easea 
of manalanghter and attempts to marder, tha 
nnmbera becoaia really terrifie« althoagb thank 
God ! a great impn^ement haa taken plaoa ' 
even there. Murder, shooting, stabbing, ad* 
ministariag poison with intent to murder, aa- 
sanU with intent to murder, solieitatioa to mar* 
der, coiispiracy to murder, manslaughter, alt 
these offencee pat together,, were oomAiittad— - 

808.ti»Qa in 1839 
503 " " 1840 
609 « « 1841 

The most painfiil parts of criminal statistica 
in Great Qritain are those relating to juvenila 
offenders, of whom snch numbers are to be 
found in ev^ry English prison. On an average^ 
among 100 criminals, eight will always be found 
who are under sixteen years of age ; and in 
Ireland, in ld39» there were seven ofifendera 
under sixteen convicted of murder or mao^ 
slaughter 1 It, must not, however, be forgotten» 
that the Engliati laws against youthful crimin- 
aia are mpre severe than our own. 

It is, a melancholy truth, that the namber of 
juvenile criminal» has not decreased in Ireland»,, 
but haa romaU^ed stationary, nay, in some pla 
ces has even increased. The number of youtk 
fuL criminals in Ireiandr-* 

In th« yffirt 1899 WM I 
" »» 1640 *♦ • I 
u u 194, •* 1*^ 

This is probably to be explained by the fact that 
the temperance movement could not influence 
the juvenile as it had done the adult criminals, 
since intemperance could never have been one 
of the principle causes of their criminality. It 
is, however, a very melancholy and unaccount- 
able fact, that the numerous new schools 
and educational Institutions in Ireland, should 
not have produced a beneficial effect on the 
youthful population, correspondent to that of 



IRELAND. 



41 



temperance on the adulto. Strange to say, even 
the number of criminals under twelve years old 
exhibits an increase. 

In 1839 the convicted criminals nndn tweWe weire 3S2 
M igio M t* " •* S23 

«* 1941 " ♦* « « 34» 

This, inorease has chiefly taken place among 
the female children ; Ibr, in the year 1839, fifty- 
five giito under twelve years of age were eon- 
vioted of various crimes ; in 1640, sixtythree; 
and in 1841, seventy-aix ! , 

These little girlSy under twelve yean of age, 
appear, therefore, to be of all classes in Ireland, 
those whose moral condition is most painful 
to contemplate. The great inorease of infant 
sehools during the last few years, renders this 
juvenile depravity- as* astonishing as it is ap]Mil- 
ling. Are the children more severely dealt with 
sineo the Ibundation of these schools 1 Or do 
these sehools themselveo develop new and pe- 
ttier crimes 1 Or ia the improvement in school 
education accompanied here, as in many parts 
of Biirope, by a prevalence of domestic neglect 1 
or by a precocious development, both of good 
and evü, in yoothl^l minds 1 

The eouflty gaol of Cork is a large and hand- 
some bailding, and' contains, as I have said, 
heth criminals and debtors. I wonder that the 
modem spirit of reform has not >et led to the 
adoption of a more just and rational system of 
treatment for debtors, for it is plain that a man 
who Mfutor pay his debts, ought not to be re- 
garded as sinning against society by not paying 
them, it is, therefore, unjust in the highest 
degree to disgrace poor debtors by confining 
tikem in a pvison for criminals. Formerly the 
insane were also sent to these gaols, which 
were made to contain all those whose confine- 
ment was for. any reason desirable. Society 
has at last learnt to distinguish between* crim- 
inals and lunaties, and will*, perhaps, in time 
be equally jusi to dobtora. 

A captain- in the navy, who -was governor 
hero foit some yeara, hae introduced into this 
priooB many improvements which might be 
copied with advantage in other places. Firstly, 
he has, at least in parts of the prison, substitn. 
ted haaunocka Ibr bedsteads, a gre^t improve- 
ment both as regards cleanliness and the savhig 
aif.iroom« He has also invented dining- tables 
without föet, which are let down from the ceil- 
ing by a very siu^te mechanism when want 
ed, and drawn np a^in when done with, so as 
to leave the floor fr^. H(»unä blocks of wood, 
neatly ont, and prettily varnished, serve as 
seatSv and besides lookifng very well, last long-; 
er' than any other kind of benches or stools, and 
can be stowed away in a comer, one upon an-, 
oti^r, when not wanted, so a9 to take up very 
little room. 

The whole prtsoa is hoilt of stone and iron, 
and since Paddy*» own cabin is generally of 
nrad or clay, it may be said, without exaggera- 
tion, that a crime transports the poor Irish peas- 
ant from a den into a palace. His diet also is 
far better in prison than oat of it. It would, 
indeed, puzzle a government to make poor Pad- 
dy worse off in prison than he is at home. Yet 
so precious is freedom, even to the hungry and 
naked, that in general there is no fear that, even 
to the poorest, the physical comforts of a prison 
life will piovc an incentive to crime. There is, 



hAwever, a certain degraded class of crimin^«^ 
who, finding themselves better off; in a, physical 
point of view, in prison than out of it, make a. 
regular habit of committing some trifling crime^ 
th.e moment they are set free, in order to get 
into prison again. There are many of tbi» 
class in England who spend their livea in. pris- 
on, with short occasional in^rvals of freedom^ 
and crime. 

Another interesting institution at Cork is the 
fever hcTspit«!. It is one of the best in Ireland^ 
and the Cork people boast that fewer patients 
die there than in any other fever hospital It 
contains on an average from 1600 to 2000 pa- 
tients. The principal tow« of every Irish coun- 
ty contains a fever hospital. These general<y 
receive only fever pj^ients, bqt occasional ex- 
ceptions are made in favour of those afllicted 
by other maladies. In the year 1839 the hos- . 
pital at Cork contained 1970 patients in all». 
;i856 of whom were fever patients. 

Fevers of all kinds are veir prevalent in Ire- 
land, particularly that worst forn? of nervous fe- 
ver, the typhus fever. Indeed th$ typhus fever 
is so much the most fj-equent, that if " fever'*' 
is mentioned the typhus is always understood. 
The infectious nature of this disease, as well a» 
its terrible prevalence, has led to the buildinff. 
of separate hospitals for those alSlicted by it,, 
not only in all considerable Irish towns, but ia 
those English cities. Containing, lars^ colonies 
of poor Irish, such as Glasgow, Mancbeater^. 
and London. 

Want, hunger, h^d dijet, scarcity of foel, an<t< 
the damp climate, are probably the chief canse» 
of this disease. The reports of the. Cork fever 
hospiul stifte that the greatest number of pa- 
tients are received in April and May, and, nßKt. 
to these, ip November apd Pecemh^n April, 
and May are |he months in which the distress, 
of the Irish peasantry reaches it^ Ratest 
height, and November and December are th» 
dampest n^onth^; ip tl^ev.yo)irv It i^ alpu jm»P^ 
thajt w^t ^nd hmtffy ȧ^^Bom^rp ^^^ ^9 wbieln 
typhus fever most prevails. A weVaoAMB hwi^ 
not <9nly a direct ^nflui^nßfi upon the hesd^h «f 
the people, but, an indirect in^uenco by pr^vent^ 
ing the preparation anddjrying of tarfy and thus 
rendering fuel so dear that it is iaaGO0«siblo.tj^ 
thj9.^qor. It.oAen happens/ a^, «uoh times that 
the poor Isish are obliged to bnr^ Up tbeir,Ttan^ 
hies, bedsteads,. and other furnitn.re, in oic^Qr to> ' 
keep upa little warmth in their comfortless jca)!-. 
ins. In the year 1839 tl^e inbahitantsof the W- 
tle island, called Cape Clear, sufirerje4..8o much., 
from want of fuel that they drew lots more .than., 
once who should first p^ill down bis cai?|n and 
give up its materials to heat the dwelling Pftb^ 
rest. This proceeding, however,^ only augment-t 
ed their misery, for as numbers were huddled 
together in small close huts, out of whioh ther 
sedulously kept the fresh air* the t^'phua infec* . 
tion was generated and spread even more than»v ^ 
usually. In cold and damp seasons, also, tho 
poor Irish are often compelled to use all the * 
clean straw they have to mend their roofs and 
keep out the rain, and are thus obliged to sleei> 
upon old straw, or oflcn upon none at all. AIL 
the misery occasioned by a damp^inier, in Ire- 
land, contributes to spread infection and to.fiUi 
the fever hospitals. As other countries thirst.. 
; for rain, so Ireland thirsts for drought. The 



4d 



IRELAND. 



climate is naturally so damp, that a dry season 
never does any harm. The drier the weather 
the better prosper the potatoes and turf, and po- 
tatoes and turf form, in Ireland, the staff of life, 
the prime source of plenty, peace, and content. 

Just outside the gates of Cork there are large 
barracks; which are more interesting than those 
of other Irish towns, because Cork is one of 
those seaports at which troops are shipped and 
provisioned for the colonies, and where they 
are again disembarked^ when they return after 
three years, in order to pass in" succession 
through Ireland, Scotland, and England, until 
itfler ten years they are again shipped for the 
colonies. This circulation of the army through 
the mother-country and its Colonies, is continu- 
aHy going on, and renders the f)nglish s^-my one 
of the most expensive in the world. 

One of my first walks in Cork led me to these 
t>arracks. The great gate leading to the inner 
court was plastered all over with placards, in- 
viting young men to enlist in her Majesty's ser- 
vice. These English recruiting-bills are very 
curious and amusing, ai^d particularly so to us, 
aince on the continent, where every one serves 
as a soldier m his turn, nothing of the Icind is 
ever seen. They are drawn up just like puffing 
playbills. For instance, some of them are head- 
ed by a staring coloured print of a gay, dashing 
trooper at full gallop, and under him the words 
«*God save the Queen.** Then follows the an- 
nouncement that twelve of her Majesty's best 
iiegiments, of the first respectability and gentili- 
tr, are open to the choice of the brave sons of 
£rin. It is declared to be the very best time of 
all others for active youn^ men to enlist in the 
service of her most gracious Majesty. Never 
was the service easier or the pay better. Those 
who bring recruits are ,promised seven and six- 
pence a head, bounty money. Another bill runs 
thus: 

" East India Company^s Force» ! 

*<Some spirited young men are still wanted 
förthe'servfee of the Honourable the East In- 
dia Company. 
. ^ Bounty-^Three pounds six shillings. 

'"Pay— One and sixpence a day. 

•** Reward to those who bring recruits — Sev- 
enteen shillings. 

** No yoang man will betible to obtain a bet- 
,ter price for his labour.** 

I had not leisure enough to read or note 
down the other placards, many of which were 
couched in far more flourishing and puffing 
terms than these. The recruiting sergeants 
sent round by the diflfereut regiments are gen- 
erally tall and handsome men, and they go 
about with numbei'S of long, gay ribbons flutter- 
ing from their caps, and their b^lts, staffs, and 
sword-sheaths stuck over With flowers and rib- 
* bons. Thus decorated, they, go about the streets, 
inarket-places, and pablic-houses, to entrap by 
their various fascinations, as many spirited 
young men, and brave sons of Erin, as they can. 

It is indeed surprising that any young Irish 
peasants can resist these attractions, or let slip 
any opportunity of exchanging their miserable 
cabins and dirty rags, for the smart, warm 
clothes and comfortable barracks of the sol- 
diers. The native soil of Erin must have great 
attractions to the poor Irish, if they prefer it to 



the plenty and fertility of the colonies. The 
barracks of Cork are said to be the best in the 
British islands, and while we visited the sleep- 
ing-rooms and eating-rooms, the canteens and 
mess-rooms, of the place, and walked about the 
extensive quadrangles, we saw much to excite 
our interest and attention. The lOth regiment 
of hussars defiled before os on its return iiom 
a review. It Qootained none but the handsom- 
est men and the most splendid horses.- The 
saddles were all covered wich tiger-skins, most 
of ihem genuine. The equipments of the Eng- 
lish soldiery are all of the very best quality, and 
are probably the most expensive in the world. 
The hussars* jackets, for instance, worn by the 
ofi^cers in the abovenamed regiment, cost forty 
pounds each. No imitation gold ever appears 
in the lace or epaulettes worn in the British 
army, and the red clo^h wern b][ the ofilcers 
costs forty shillings a yard. As the English 
army has to frequent such very dififerent cli- 
mates, the ofilcers, at least, are oeeasionaly al- 
lowed some slight deviations from the strict 
rule of the regimeatal unifbrm. Thns» for inr 
stance, those bound for North America are al- 
lowed, as far as is at all consistent with tliese 
rules, to line aad edge their clothes with fur ; 
and the ofiicers of the regiments lately shipped 
for China, were allowed to wear white cotton 
instead of red woollen cloth, in a great maa/ 
parts of their dress. 

While walking through the barracks, one of 
the officers told me that the musical director of 
his regiment was a German. This is f>ften the 
case, both in the English and Russian regi- 
ments. The pay of these German musicians is 
very liberal; they receive twelve shillings a 
day, besides food and clothing. Of all foreign- 
ers, Germans are found most frequently in the 
English army, and Frenchmen most rarely. In 
the navy, indeed, no Frenchman is allowed to 
serve. (Are there any English in the French' 
marine 1) In the kitchen department, however, 
exceptions are made in favour of the French, 
for in the mess-room of the 45th regiment I 
found a cook of that nation. A German tailor 
whom I also met th^re, and who had the kind« 
ness to relate many interesting particulars to. 
me, assured me th^t this was the only French* 
man he had ever met with in the army ; and 
he must have been acquainted with a large per* 
tion of it, since he bad resided for some years 
in Cork as military tailor, and had seen a great 
many regiments pass through his hands. 

The environs of Cork contain two places, of 
which the one is very fhmous and yet ^ery lit 
tie worth seeing, while the other, though les$ 
celebrated, is a great deal more ioterestiog. 
The first is the ruined castle ef Blarney, well 
known, owing to the legend, according to which, 
whoever climbs upon and kisses a certain great 
jutting stone in the ruin,Js endowed by the 
fairies with an irresistible and .mysterious pow- 
er of attraction, particularly with respect to the 
fair sex. This legend has given birth to many 
caricatures, in which O'Connell is represented 
sitting on the Blarney-stone, in order to make 
himself irresistible. All this is very easily ima- 
gined, and very little worth personal inspec- 
tion. 

The second^ however, namely, the mouth of 
the river Lee, at it opens into the bay or har- 



IRr&LAN^ 



49> 



iionit 9f Oorkf oppQsüeC^D^t » v^rir weU-wovtb 
th,&troiibJe of a.^isitj. U was on a fine Sunday 
morning. that I floated down the pretty river, on 
boarjl ofa smallateamboatt in company with a 
niimber of the good people of Cork« sallyjing out 
for a holiday. The city of Cork lay grouped in 
piotureeqqe beaety on both sides of the river, 
which unfortunately is rather shallow near the 
town. In oTdar to obviate tbf» iiioopvenienoe 
a gpett navigation wall has been ereoted, to nar^« 
row, and thus to deepen« the water. The sea- 
men ; rejoice in this change, but many poor citi- 
XQ08 of Cork lament iU and with good reason} 
fof ^finee tbi» ^deepening ; of the water, it often 
ovefflttws at h^;tide, ud enterkig the hons^ 
-cloee te tbe w«ter->8ide, renders the», uninhab* 
itab)e> 

The« bay.Js full of islfra^s^and has^ therefore, 
tlia ftppeanmee of being «divided into nuooerous 
Mnm, AH Ihcise islands , as well as the shores 
of< tlie bi^^ aro rict^y cuittvated* and maj^y, 
•charming country-seats press close down to tbe 
wMer^ edge^f or else extend their 'wide pi^rks 
and > wo9ds in picturesque sao^^ssion alon^g ,the 
shor«. Tlie water all alivA wUb ships and 
boirta, the elegant' viUBSv the siiady parks, with 
thmrt «lately woods, and^^rieli greea meadows, 
and dark gioveäf, swoeptog d^wa to the bay« 
fomod a aaocessienof beautiftd and- variegated 
aceneryv 

Upon ih0 largeist; of ibe i^nds^ «ailed Groat 
Island, the piinoipal port of Cork, the well* 
knawB pove,i extend», io anr ampNtbatro of 
«lateHBolourod hotisee, up the risiag «hores o|f 
theislanid^ Wo landedr and climbed upio th^^' 
topof>th<)se sll^>re$f bebind tbe townf in order 
tO'look^over tho^wbele soeoe; We^were met 
OD rout way by half the popmiauon of Cove, who 
cams streamin^^olvo froW'^he ehisrchy and ai 
€VBr]jrji^p<woliadopp«rta»iitic8 rfadoiiFtng the 
8|wmeiry of form and graeef«! app^aranee of 
tko; «pp^tCllMaes^i ao. th«y adrb catted,? of tfekia 
disfriet 

Ffoitt 4heifaMg)l«»«ehiB4«Cöv)e tbo^speotaler 
loakaupen tbedeepest^ and bfoadiesti pert of the; 
bajn; all studdeA'^Hb islaRd»^ Beforo-the w»** 
taiEof thetbay ioee themaelTes 4B^4be oeean, Ibey ; 
ntHfonf 4>et«een 'tile piojeisting points of^ ti«^ 
peainsuiafL Uiwa eaeb of these; poimo stanza 
fortves«, wfaicboiMi^iaaiids anil ■d^fendo;tbe narri 
Tei»^opei|ingof«ho<bavboitl^ Blefbinditlieso^Hes. 
tl^i vast; , heavungoxpaaao of the oeean» up^U' 
'^hitblitb&^8peoCatoif recpggises^' in^lhe shape of^ 
a few tiny, ibiadk isp^cids 'oo the bei;i«o»r slifp^ 
Hearing .the lighflbeise^ of ^t?. Roehe^ tiio first/ 
paetiafitb60orti hBrbourvdesoried byappripae^';: 
inqgyHseielaL' OB>€]e^liiglito,itijs.saidi t)«at,tb«i; 
ligbl/eao^raeei^ i^Kienty-fivo miieaf of alt sea^ 

The citif •l€orhfi»rrieaon aMurishing Iriide 
in the importation of timber, and all aroMtf tlio 
l>afjfi^Ia!t^lal-ge'«imbef iwbaf&/Ul)«ef frtankoapd 
(beamsi many of wlriefe'WerefOTenJ^giPii tho 
watbv; The türiberü» itttetly oAmsfie^^, for 
tboqghi'tbat of tbe Salt« ismuiHii^e^fthle^ it 
isef •eaofsa' idearev ihan whatpfs^gioiivn) in tbe 
Amsnaa» eaioDiea] Itr^ is sai^^tbot the Ameri^- 
can tiaiber deeayomtich'aooiiev tbaa tbatof the 
Baltk>,.probsM^ because Ui6^^*ga*aNad" yomig/ 
colonists of Canada, intent only o^a ms^ng a 
cleaBkig.andt^ettingjM ctftbeir w<M>d{<de not 
tieat tfao titibei^iwilh.as.madiieaiie'and lorp* 
«iguj aft4b*?^tantelviiBili'tO^«ho^ BaHiO Pipv- 



inces do. The dry-rot of the A?pericsp tlqab^ 
is a particular subject of complaint in England, 
and Ireland, and was so, even more than it is 
now, a few years ago, when the outcry sudden- 
ly became loud and universal, and all the world 
toek fright. Long articles abojut dry-rot filled 
all the newspapers, and those whose houses 
were built of American timber began to be 
afraid that the roofs and walls would fall in and 
bury them. Many people actually were so ter- 
rified by the alarm, that they pulled down their 
iiouses, and had them rebuilt with Baltic tim- 
ber Remedies were proposed against this for- 
midable dry-rot, and at last an Anti-dry-rot 
Compaf^>yas fbrme(^» which, after the discussion 
of various schemes and project?, presented a 
petition to parlianoent praying for the abolitiop 
of the t^ on Baltic timber. Thi& indeed« was tbe 
object of the whole diy-rot bubble. There wejre, 
probably, a few jobbets and sf^eculators m Bal- 
tic timber, who, by article^ in the newspapers 
and by otbeir means, raised the wbojle outpry. 
It is npthing^vUnusu^ in England for such a 
storm tQ be raised against spine inofensivei 
matter, by aiew artful and designing men, who 
soon spread a. dreadful panip through the coujn- 
try,. ending in the most trivial and foolish lo- 
suits. 

On my way, to Cove I had noticed on th^ 
shoro of tbe bky a large biai^dipg, which I was 
infoimed;Waf a cop vent, containing an educa- 
tional establishment for young ladles, liie 
neit mprning,, provide,d with letters of introduc- 
tipn by the kjndness Pf some lady patronesses 
at Cork, I drove over to the convent. Forty, 
young^ daughters of the aristocracy are here in- 
structed " i« the usual branphes of a p(>lite ed- 
ucatioi^". afid at; the a^rQe time partake of a 
conventual coursp of life. Tlie, teachers are 
French nun^a^id the abbess, a lady of great re», 
finen^nt and int^lligencd, had th^ goodness tp 
show mp over i^oy par^.of the institution^ 
and to giye me ^h infori^atiÖn as 1 required^ 
I shiOul|iiia^4)y ^^6 ^^W^^ to fine),. ip aeou^- 
try.iy^ Iralandr wiiose once fampi^s and i^öur- 
isi^ing ecbpOite an^ everywhere . falling, into do- 
c|^ suchoYtensive, prosperous, and^ weU-orgip<; 
i3^4 ed^caiiohalij)[sututionsas thi^ M^ny Ijrisb 
families spnd their daugj^erst oyer, to Franc^^. 
tq.b^.e4!Ji:'^L^-jil ii^ ä-ts«.-: ctttsvoiits of that country* . 
Ej9!eain this fri&h convc^nl ihe svatem of educo^ 
tipn w^ hüLt^ Freocli, and the laJies, both leach- ' 
ers and pupilä^ gpol^e mosUj/^ in French, ^nd be- 
trayed ;a ^iruiTg paritatity for ever>tt>ing con- 
neptedwUh Fraoce. The French, also, haye' 
ali^^yfr a great parttalitj for Irelund and the, 
Irif^npt only on arr4>unt of I heir caLhoUci^ni, 
butOfi^cMintof thf!ir C^Inu origin, ajtd ufihe! 
oppression tfiey have suffered froni the Cerman- > 
ic ra^isa. No French Uimk about Jreland ever 
hppe9rs>whioU dues not ex:3U O'ConndL above > 
tbockuiflä, and whicht while it teemti with the' 
most;exa^gej'ate4 praise of the Iribh natiüual 
chajsaetaTr dues nui bull ovar with hatred of 
^ngi^d and " English tyranoy.^' Fran<^e ^i- 
\yayakeep3 hex eye upon Ireland^ tioqu^itiog and 
intriguing with her, and fomenting iha wo^jkI 
which renders her such a thorn iu ihe^ide'af 
England, yet they hs^ve qeyer prxiduced tnuch« 
ejGTectupon tbe island. . Sueb intrigues i^nd spec? 
ulations may gQ «a for oeotunea without, cod^t 
ing.^oanytlMBgi, 



50 



IRELAND. 



There are more nnnneries than monasteries 
in Ireland, but there are very few of either. A'II 
Ireland put together does not contain as many 
convents and monasteries as the single city of 
Prague. This fact will probably astonish my 
German readers. Knowing with what zeal and 
constancy the Irish have clung to their Catholi- 
cism through all persecution and contumely, we 
generally think of the country as full of church- 
es, abbeys, and convents, and swarming with 
nuns, monks, and priests, and expect to see 
crosses, images, and effigies of saints at every 
turn ; in a Word, we expect Ireland to look like 
Bohemia. Very different is the reality. The 
priests are seldom seen in the streets ; monks 
and nuns still more rarely. None of the Irish 
cities contain handsome catholic churches, like 
those of Germany» France, and Belgium, and 
no venerable and picturesque old edifices, like 
those so abundant in all the catholic countries 
of the continent, occur to remind the traveller 
of the national religion of Ireland. The cathe- 
drals of Dublin and Armagh are the only catho- 
lic churches of any celebrity in Ireland, and the 
first of these which I saw was too uninteresting 
-to awaken any curiosity as to the second. 

On the continent, catholic villages and towns 
are always decorated with multitudes of little 
chapels, dependent on the principal churches ; 
these are wanting in Ireland. Nor do stone 
crosses and images occur at short intervals 
along the road, inviting the passing wanderer 
to drop on his knees and pray ere he pass, as 
in other catholic countries. The old churches, 
monasteries, abbeys, and convents of the coun- 
try, as well as its ancient crosses, images, and 
roadside chapels, have all long ego been swept 
away, and no new ones have taken their places. 

If the Bohemians had a patron saint to boast 
of, so far-famed, so holy, and of so high a rank 
as St. Patrickf they would have erected thou- 
sands of chapels, crosses, and images in his 
honour, in all corners of the land, as thay have 
actually done for their far less eminent St. Ne- 
potnucene. In Ireland scarcely any signs of St. 
Patrick are to be met with. In short, the Ca- 
tholicism of poor Erin has been stripped of all 
its fair and graceful blossoms, until nothing but 
the bare stump is left behind. Th,e catholics of 
Ireland have not even the right to call their 
places of worship churches. They are only 
" catholic chapels," iust as the protectants of 
Austria are only allowed to have houses of 
prayer. Yet in spite of the absence of all out- 
ward signs of Catholicism, the Irish are the 
most genuine' Roman catholics in the world, 
and are by no means more deficient than other 
catholic countries in that which we heretics 
call catholic bigotry and superstition. 

In no country has protestantism so shameful- ' 
ly tyrannized over Catholicism as in Ireland. 
Until very lately, the catholics were not allow- 
ed to have high steeples or bells to their church- 
es. In no country have the protestants, while 
rejecting the outward forms of popery, retained 
60 much of her domineering, persecuting tpirit, 
of her proud, exclusive bigotry, as in Ireland. All 
tb^se sins are far more natural and pardonable in 
the mother-church of Rome, than in protestants, 
who severed themselves from her communion 
in the name of Preed<im of Conscience, and 
pledged themselves thereby to grant to others 



the liberty demanded for themselTes. CatlidH' 
cism, regarding its own as the one true chorchr 
without whose pale salvation is impossible, has- 
a natural tendency to intolerance, and a certain 
excuse for the bigotry it practises; but to a- 
Protestant church, the practice of tyranny is as- 
unnatural and unbecoming, as to a liberal in 
politics. 

The emancipation of the Irish catholics, baa- 
done away with a great many oppressive laws 
against them, and has much improved their con- 
dition. Not only are cmtholics now admitted 
into parliament, and into many office, before 
inaccessible to them, but they occupy-altogether 
a more independent and influential position, 
which cannot but afford satisfaction to every 
rightminded Protestant. In some places, indeed,, 
as is often the case with a newly-emancipated 
class, the catholics begin to exhibit someof th6H 
insolence of power, and affect to look down- 
with haughty contempt upon their proteeftant- 
brethren. 

It is to be hoped that the political and social 
emancipation of the Irish catholics, will Ite souR' 
followed up by an alteration in the present meth* 
od of providing for their priests, which occa-»- 
sitms those contemptible scenes so fl^equent at 
the doors of catholic churches in Ireland, I mean^ 
the cuUeetions for the priests, whose scanty ia> 
comes have led them to levy a tribute on church^ 
goers, in a manner unheard of in other cathoUe 
countries. I witnessed these collections in- 
many places, among others at Cork. The tax 
is levied at two doors ; at the great middle door^ 
where the poor go in, each laying down a pen-^ 
ny as he enters ; and at the side door, for those- 
better off, who pay what they please, over that 
sum. Over this door was inscribed, in large- 
letters, *^a silver collection is expected;** that 
is to say, nobody is to pay less than sixpence. 
A priest was present to take the money, and 
also, as I was told, with a view of making an« 
impression, through their superstition, upon th» < 
pnrses of those present. He bowed his thanks 
for every coin dropped into his plate. The pria» 
cipal door was open, and in front of it, on ^e- 
stone steps, were crowded numbers of poor 
catholics, who, unable to afford the required 
penny, were shut out from all participation if» 
the service. With clasped hands and bowed 
heads, they knelt on the stones, listening eager- 
ly to the sounds which reached them from the 
interior of the church. " They are satisfied W 
they can only hear the little bell« rung by the- 
assistant of the priest, who ofiiciates at th^ al- 
tar," said my companion. ** If they do but 80> 
much as catch the sound of the little bell, as> 
they bow and cross themselves, they go away 
satisfied that they have heard mass and done 
their duty." 

Those who still regard the ancient Irish Ian* 
guage as their mother-tongue, are even worse 
off. The great city of Cork, which lies in a dis» 
trict where much Irish is still spoken, contains 
only two churches where sermons are preached 
in Irish. A short time ago, the Irish prisoners 
in the Cork gaol petitioned their chaplain that he 
would sometimes preach his Sunday sermon ta 
them in Irish. 

The Bishop of Coi^t has one of the most in- 
teresting collections of hooks that I have ever 
seen. This learned, industhoos man, has tor«. 



IRELAND. 



51 



ed hia whole höasd into a Übraiy. Not only hiJB 
sitting-rooms and dining-rooms aretook-rooms, 
bat even in his bedrooms eyery spafe place is 
filled with boqks. His attendants, and even his 
xnatdoservants, sleep in little libraries. The walls 
of his stsircases and the corridors of his rooms, 
are filled with books, np to the very garrets. 
His house contains the largest private coUectitm 
of books in Ireland, and is rich in costly and 
interesting works. I nliention this, because I 
believe' it is not generally known, that among 
the catholic clergy of Ireland there are still men 
to be found so devoted to learned pursuits. 
There was a time, indeed, when 'Ireland was 
looked upon by all Europe as the seat of learn- 
ing and the isle of saints. While Germany yet 
lay buried in the night of heathen ism, the clear 
light of the gospel shone bright over Erin . For- 
eigners flooked from far änd near to study at 
her seminaries of learning, and she sent forth 
continually new and zealous missionaries of 
Christianity, to publish the glad tidings of reve- 
lation to the heathen. St. Columb, and his dis- 
ciple St. Galius, whose name is still borne by 
one of the Swiss cantons, St. Livin the Belgian 
nkissionary, St. Kilian the apostle of the Franks, 
St. Wiro the confessor of Pepin, and innumera- 
ble other saints of note, were born Irishmen, 
and played a most important part in the history 
of Christianity. ** Gaude, felix Hibernia, de qua 
proles alma progreditor !'' (Rejoice, happy Ire- 
land, from whom such sons proceed !) were the 
words inscril^ on the tombstone of the famous 
Irishman, Caialdus, who died at Tarentum in 
Italy. 

The times have changed since then for Ire- 
land. '' FeHx Hibernia !" has become a phrase 
too inappropriate even for the poet's pen. All 
Irish poems have something melancholy in 
them, and Haydn, on hearing a national Irish 
melody for the first time, without knowing 
whence it came, exclaimed that such music 
could, only bekuig to an oppressed and unfortu- 
nataraoe. 

I have ^id that the catholics are now far 
more powmul and influential in Ireland than 
they were, and the protestants less so. Yet 
upon the whole, the old relation of rulers and 
dependents still exists between them, as I had 
many opportunities of observing. I was often 
exhorted not to poll off my hat so often, because 
that was like the poor catholics. The hotel at 
which I lodged in Cork was kept by a protest- 
ant %nd tory host, and was almost wholly fre- 
quented by protestants. There wils another 
hotel IB the town, patronised exclusively by 
catholics and whigs. Many towns in Ireland 
have separate inns for catholics and protest- 
ants. : nay, I was even assured that there were 
Protestant and catholic cars and stage-coaches. 

FROM CORK TO KILKENNY. 
One day, aller receiving the congratulations 
of mine host of Cork upon the **d€iightful c<ay,'^ 
which said delightful day, however, I consider- 
ed only just not very bad, I left Cork for Kil- 
kenny, where I was informed that a great 
horse-race would that day be held. Indeed, in 
Ireland, every body I met always congratulated 
nie upon the state of the weather, e^en when 
drizsbimg rains, sharp winds. Jind cold mists, 
were my principal meteorological advantages. 



The district between Cork and Kilkenny con- 
tains many beautiful and interesting points. 
From Cork to Dublin, indeed, is considered the 
finest part of Ireland, and np other district is so 
rich in smiling landscapes, picturesque shores, 
fine harbours, handsome towns, and beaut ifur 
rivers. We dVove for a little while along the 
sweet bay of Cove, and then turned inland into 
a fertile and thickly- wooded valley. At Fermoy 
we reached the rtver Blackwater, which is high- 
ly picturesque, and abounds in fine scenery, 
from its mouth to its source. The last town in 
the county of Cork is Mitchelstown, and who- 
ever is obliged like me to pass it without stop- 
ping, had better seat himself on the south side 
of the car, in order that he may not be tanta« 
lized by a glimpse of the entrance to the far- 
famed Caverns of Mitchelstown, which he can- 
not spare time to visit. We next entered a 
level country, lying between the Galtee and the> 
Knockmeledown mountains, whose lofty sum- 
mits bound the view on both sides of the plain. 

The town of Cahir is beautifully situated oi]b 
the shores of the river Suir, and long before we- 
entered it we saw the proud spire of its catho- 
lic church towering out of the plain, and ap- 
pearing to look down with haughty contempt 
on the little steeple of the Protestant church be- 
side it. In many parts of Ireland the catholic 
churches are now beginning to tower above 
those of **the establishment," as the English 
often call their church ; and all over the coun- 
try the Irish catholics are vying with the Eng- 
lish protestants in the zeal with which they 
build new churches and repair old ones. The 
present mania for church building in the United 
Kingd<tm surpasses any thing I have ever seen 
out of Russia. 

As Fermoy looks up with tender veneration 
to its interesting neighbour, the ancient city of 
Lismore, so Cahir regards with affectionate rev- 
erence the old and famous ruins of Cashel, one 
of the holy spots of Ireland. We saw the hiU 
of Cashel rising out of the fdain at a distanoe, 
covered with the ruins of its old churches, and 
crowned with its round tower in a perfect state* 
of preservation. These rams are considered 
the most beautiful in Ireland. 

Lord Glengall is the man upon whom, under 
Heaven, the turf and the potatoes, the happi- 
ness and prosperity of the entire district round 
Cahir depend. He has a beaotiful castle dose 
to the town, and, at present, resides there, in 
fulfilment of an old promise to his tenantry. 
On eveiry estate the 'great question is that o^ 
residence and non^residence. Where the land- 
lord resides upon his own estates the tenants« 
are well treated, the land well cultivated^ and: 
the whole country prosperous and happy. Whe»; 
he does not reside, the peasants havd !}o T9- 
dress from the tyranny of his subordinates ; ejc- 
ecutions for non-payment of rent are frequent 
and cruel, and the money of the district is sent . 
out of the country, without returning in any 
shape to those who lose it. 

We had now entered the notorious county of 
Tipperary, in which more murders and assaults 
are committed in one year than in the whole 
kingdom of Saxony in five. As the Italians 
have their stilettoes, so the Irish, and particu- 
larly the Tipperarymen, have their formidable 
sluielaghs, a kind of hard, thick, heavy elub. 



b^ 



IRELAND. 



wit^ whicli they perpetrtte a gtt^Hk flttay of 
tbek alrocitieB. Shitetagh is a littl^yiUagem 
the cdanty of WicMow» in ibQ nei^bhoarbood 
a( wbieh a great many of theiie clubs are mdde, 
and from wbich they derive their name. These 
clubs have a much more innoeent and harmless 
iq^pearaoce thaa might be expected. The AU 
puie mountaineers carry kmg, thick, iron-bound 
sta&, which have a mach more formidable ap- 
pearance, but it is the use to which the sbile- 
Ugbs are commonly put which renders them 
terrible. 

I met a Tipperary-mah in one of the streets 
of Cahir; he was leading his little donkey, 
which was harnessed to a small cart filled MPith 
turf. His clothes^ hanging upon lum in miser- 
able tatters, gave him the appearance of having 
been beaten and bnfibted about all bis life; 
naay of his rags hmig but hy a single thread. 
He was wretchedly thin and haggard looking, 
and every bone in bis face was plainly dlstin-^ 
guiahable through his skin. This miserable 
asd degraded exterior did not lead me to ex- 
pect the fiery and quarrelsorae impetoesity 
which it concealed. I approached the man, 
aad» IB order to enter into some oenversatioft 
with him, I bade him gfM)d morning, and naked 
him in which direction his jqumey hiy. '* Whati 
whati" " I asked whither you were going,'' I 
said. "Whati whati Where Pm goittg.V' 
" Yes.'» " What the deyil does it concern you^ 
I should like to know V '* Well, dp not be aoi- 
ff^iit does nut much concern me, certainly. 
I am travelling to Clonmelt and asked yon where 
you were going, in order to kn^w whether you 
'^ere going ;f»y way." Ho suddenly stofH^ed 
iua donkey, and stood aa if rooted to the 
ground, staring fixedly at me, and shaking bis 
shilelagh- "The devil take ye, go where ye 
win What do I care 1 Why d» you Mk me 
where I am gningl What'« my road to the 
likes e*youf Whati whaitl Whei^Jamgov 
, iaK.! It's enough to dHve a map mad to: be; 
a^ked' such qneatlon* i D'ye täte mer for ; a< 
faighwayfluni fSlil ehl** He fthentook-upF/a 
very' tbBi»(eniog poelwe» aUhoagh i remained 
TPVrka^^qmei an<l paaoeabte, hm stamped hia 
foot and brandished hia«h!l«lBglLandBci»amed. 
0^ io^qeh a peyfeoi toriesiiof pateton, >' Whei-e 
aml^oii^l £h1 WherOamigoingl^tbaili 
«qrlravelling c<Mn|MtfiioeB heand the noise asd 
appi«adled«Sk aaktng me td^eause of the.diBr 
tiiübanoe. I rapeated to themi the inuootint 
qoetfMin by 9!hioh lAiadidcawfei doiwikapoiijiqfi. 
sdi* thiis lonrent «if wrath, >itad^ a» I walked^ 
v$9(^ I eawtheTipperatfy^vMi'WiaBrMrith'^mr 
diflhxdty rQairaia«d^4reni(fQMMiogiiiK).and idan 
kfaig. dte pay I fiüT imy tomflrü}!. Ewrr li»^ «^ 
his ihoiid stanMl iwi MMlrJpd «venr^ag ab ha 
body «sj^o^fL w'l^ ,t(he. iatciiBity^0f>hi8 iMasioa. 

««Do not on that .9^ooi|Rt,A9sdc«nn ^4te 
mcttcif Tipper^^y„sv !" jb^^n^jOiMi jof «ny (tiw*. 
elling compfU9ii)i^ y/hm ü^e .nemounted the 
car to pri>cee^ on our jpwneyt "There are, 
certeinly, many queer char^pt^ra amiMig them*! 
and .u|)on .the whple th^, pei^Wps, dftaerve the 
b^dxepmaftion they , enjoy, jAlr^ad; hut i am 
well apq^ainjted with this «tQuaty, I may aay I 
kpowerjery (Cbrner of it; J b|Hr.e been .for y«vn 
in the habit of traveJUing day and night in it» 
aofl l^ve i^ver copie toaAy hariB. iNay; the 



'hoepitable towarda etmngara wh^a» emdmsk^i 
does not jav againstiibehr oosfeoma: and prejodiH 
CCS. It IS their onfoftoaatB retaftion toaheie- 
landtords which ia the soarce of half their 
crimes. I did not hear ho w^ yon «»orded yow 
question to this man, bat hadyon hegua wilhia 
•God bless you kindly !' or a «God speedi.yoa. 
on your way P and come gradually and gentljri' 
to yonr question, it would* probably have been* 
quietly and pohtety aaawered. In your coqb«. 
try it may be, aa you say, a genend custom,, 
nay, a common civility, for two pemoBstnee^ 
ing to inquire each other's roads ; but hera it 
is, as yon see, unnsualy and, therefore^ 



" Sinee temperance," aa the pc<^e say, ihesB^* 
qtttrrelsomemea of Tipperary have mach imi 
proved, and ahhoogh their attfoTtmiateipoaitkm> 
must always give them ascertain tendaaey tavB* 
hellion, yet even riola and insunreoftioBa -.araii 
much km freqnent among them than thay^wonj' . 
" Since«teiiiperance*' so muBy changes bav« j»t 
ken place in Instand, that it onghtte ankeqailB., 
a BOW era in Irish history, 

Clonmel is the. largest laws in the cettnty oi 
Tipperary. It eontama 1((/QM inhabitaBtsvaad 
ita thrivinf aspect, and the aaioiated bnstleoCita . 
streets, bear teatuBony to its imperlaBC8.andvi 
prosperity^ AsweidismooBtedibefore thninoBl. 
donmiel amonber of oMbeggavwomen sur« 
rounded our car aa usnah . I gave oneof thanis: 
a penny. She spat upea it, and aft< first I Jma^ 
gtned ahe did 'soi to ahttwherxxmteBiptv beoaase 
I had given her so small a com: AfterwardSy 
however, I found that it is a regular custoia.o(^ 
the beggar»' in Iiehind (and also in some parts 
of En^^ndX toapit upon the money given them^ 
*• for good locfc^?' as -they say. 

The begganwomen were many of - them >too 
ohl and infian :t« foHonr >iis ; but a oR)Wd'iol>llt- 
tk^iflaoara haired chifalneti ran after the «ar » 
long I way, wfaea it had dfiaen oflT^ ThO'Wisvd« 
"ba^peaoy?' seema ta»have hecBBie so natwal' 
^o their tongues, that it drops out spontaneoWK- 
ly^h» moraent-^they topes their lips^ They do 
not .GBret (What -, you. tmy • ta . them^ bJ! keep ' op 
one. incessnIi.cryT of '^halpbnny 1' ha'penhy.!»'^ • 
until aipiece of eoipperis^tlnrown toward« tAiesB, 
when tbs whole troop ftll t<^ gnibbing> in the * 
din, and acrambling fep it. On^ the wiNrie way • 
frwnj Limoriok) to Oork^ aiid ihoB» Coi4c to KiU 
keany;, a distanooiof somo hundred miles in 
lengthy opr ofor aras naveri a muMoeHi ftee fhMi' 
^watraa« of ^ noiay little^ beggarsi and (as sooO aa * 
OBOitiroop gam ap iihe pur«ttl«f in deäpair, anoth- 
er; «ragged :litlile>tlia!OBg( came ehoutingaadg^^ 
kxpiB^iorer the oaoor.^ tosupptT itb place; fhe 
3ianooBi-oara are vbit» ihvoamble «o besgars; 
beaaas»l!httttBrvelieKa«$t; perpetttaHyfaci^ thi» 
poBr< .sappliofNits, and daset to thou. F spoke 
of flaxea-haiced chik^r^Pfbiyt ,m fofpp^ intern 
districts the' li-rsh ate all hiack-haired. TJjp 
moat remarkable thing^ about it is, thfit whereas 
in other oouotriea blue eyesr are älvi^ fband 
with light bair, and dark eyes with dark hair, . 
the Irish are without reception bitte eyed, ana 
eyea of the cl^areBt azure tint gleam contitiu- 
^ beneath hairiilack as tl^ raven*^ wing 



IRELAND. 



53 



TBE KILKENNY RACES. 

,We arrived «t Kflkemiy toward» dusk, and, 
M^fler a hasty dioner, I sallied forth to see how 
i«n- Irish town woald look on the eye of a horse- 
: imee. The ptece contains 35,000 inhabitants«. 
I'ttuiis, in point of importance, the eighth town 

• «1 (IrelaAd. Dorr ng the three days af the races, 
«lifiweirer, the population falls little short of 

^ • 40.900. What struck mamost in the streets 

(Were the ballad^sfngers, of ^whom Ireland eon- 

teins more, I think, than -any coiMitry in the 

<worid, and of whom I saw literally twice as 

' nttay in the streets of Kilkenny as there were 

. < iamp^posts. Yet ihey werb none of th^m^ witli- 

< «lit aoditovB, and «ome "Weref surroinhded b^r a 
ivegiriar.iiiOboCtattei^d admirers. 

. Ti» follewing ^day • the ' raees > liegan, amd 
ftboogh the eonrse-was thiee miles from the 
itoWn> 4be races might 'be said to beg^n within 

^4lie;»tre«!ts of :K#kenny ; i meaii those of «he 
cars, omniAMise6,'^anBy and «tber equipages of 
eyery imaginable description, in which thou- 
sands hastened to the:gröoflid, that they might 
share in the excitement of the day. For my 

i.>pKt, I took anontside place on a s(age>coach, 
.'^lad Ui68 aecfired not only a conveyance, 'but 
■alfin a lOdnvenient ftaee from <wbi<th to witness 

0:liieia|ieata(^. 

iOui; road lay thimigh an unintemqited eload 

-idi'dostv from' which we issued. only on our ar- 

'(Tivaft at the T^rdant cxnifse. It is not always 

-veaisyto find, in the vicinity of a targe townv ä 
qppeee of ground tkatsnites all «he desiderata of 
nftjgoodrace-coorse, vvhich must be dry, elastic, 
•ami iev«L In Ibe United Kingdom there are tio 

. •'less than. 130 raoe-oouYsestone of the best 4>f 
'Which is the Cwragb of Kiiddre. said to owe^^i 

-«IsBiiciiyi so -miMch' priced by raeing men,4o the 
timrms that sre tBOntinaaily piercing it. 

The flelä ^«s ^ct^H^tid with thousands ef 

trspeetators. ITbe Grand Stand w^ full to 
(«verflowing, and m were two otüer soafföki- 
'dngs erected only for t the day. The ^uifiage^ 
ridfaWn upon the ctdge iof the course formed a 
complete ii^trenchment, while 'hondreds en 

•riMiriieback, or in small sflburies, galloped' about 

/an the intermediate spiaecv aeeMdIog as any ob- 
ject attracted their attention. 

Many ■preparartory movefifeiits preeeded th^ 
CiftinmencementioM^oaibreimpOTtaii« busin^s^ 
<«f the day. I'he hursts were 'paraded ttpoii< ihe 

. leoiiirse to be admired 'by the deli|thted spema- 
tors. Then there was the ceremotfy of adjust^ 

• (tag the weight of the joekeys, add that of sad- 
dling, mounting, and assembUiig atthe startingr 

•ryoin. 

Suddenly we tteard the ery, «Thej^re «T!»' 

< laJMl six race-hOFSeS) stretched to their utmost 
length, rushed by us at f\dl speed. The ex- 
eHement was general. *' Beaotiftil ! sptehdid ! 

: 'iweaotifal !" ** Go it, Nimrod !" ''♦ iThat's right, 
•Charley; reserve yourself, ^ftd the race is 

• yours !" *' It's Nfmrod's race, all the world to 
nothing!*' were the sounds On every side of 
-toe. For my own part, I see nothing very pic- 

' taresque in a group of English race-hOrses dash- 
ing by at full speed. The beaaiies prised by 
^^the connoisseur* are ofl»n def^ets in the eye of 
•vthe^ttnbütiaied^and^the jeek^ya are ebliged to 
"^ «ttMiOb unto a^t)oei«k>n'tbe -tery reverse Of what 
a painter would wish to delineate. The res^l 



pleasure of the speetators, indeed, depends less 
upon the race than upon the associations eon- 
nected with it ; the money known to be at stake» 
the high rank of those present, the fame of the 
horses, and the excitement to which a large as- 
semblage is sure to give rise, all these contrib- 
ute to inspire an interest in the great questkm 
of which horse's nose shall be first to reach the 
winning-post. 

Neither Nrmrod nor Charley won the raee» 
but Lacifei*, a new horse, that made its first ap- 
pearance on the turf that day. The people 
pressed eagerly round the victor, stroked his 
neck, his back, and caressed him in every pes-* 
sible way, while incessant shouts and cheers 
greeited him wherever he passed. Some took 
hold of the reins to lead him to the weighing 
house, and many, I am sure, would have lent 
him their leg» with pleasure, if he «oukl haire 
used them. The jockey was lifted from bis 
horse with 'the utmost tenderness, and beiag 
found full Weight, was declared to have won his 
race " faiHy and fto mistake." 

Next followed a hurdle-race, but it proved -a 
disappointment. One jockey fell, another broke 
out of the course, and several others disqualified 
themselves for reasons unknown to me, until 
onfy one remained, when it was said, "Mr. 
Soloway^s Countess walks over the course." 

A race of formers* horses followed, aud this 
was to me the best part of the sport ; for these 
horses, I had at least the satisfaction of suf^- 
sing, were fit fbr «omething else than bettmg 
upon. It is strange thatihts passion of horse- 
raeing, like so many English habits, should of 
late years have established itself so generaiy 
on the continent ; yet I doubt whether we shall 
ever see at any of our races scenes like some 
of those which I witnessed from my ** outdide 
f^ace.** I looked down into the interior of an 
elegant equipage, in wfai<6h was seated theyottog 
and handsoitfe #ife of «Sir Frederic — — > She 
had an elegant pocket'^ook in her haAd, «ad 
noted, evidently in a state bf much exeitemeat, 
everything that occurred on the course. I was 
told she was 'p^sätonntelj fond of raees äkid 
most other sfi^orts, and carefully kept a record 
of every event connected with them. 

A little away from the course was aconiplete 
dty of tents fittiJd up for dancing and refresh« 
meht. The fitting up was the «ame in all^f 
th^m. In front was a kind of bar, atid 4MA|i(kd 
a large space, With benches Around; and In'th« 
centre filomething tike a door laid on the groond 
for the dancers to display their agility upon. 
This doori to make it more elastic, was ptacied 
over a hole dug itt the sand, and the dancers, of 
whom there were four in each tent, stood on the 
edge of their little stage tiH they began, when 
they stepped upon the boards, and joi?iped away 
to their hearts' content. The same scene Was 
l^oiirg on in at least fifty tents at the same time. 
In about half of these tents spirits w^re sold, 
in the other half only tea. 

Not wishing toTetwn throttgbthe samedohd 
of dust through Whieh I had cor/ie, ! left the 
ground early, and walked back to Kilkenny, 
having the road nearly totöyself ' Indeed, along 
the Whole way I parsed tohly one old m^n,'Whr», 
like miyself, had left the- racp earty, to- escaj)e 
the dtist and bustle of a crowd. He was oM, 
lame, and infirm, and tod been so^ he^äüd", for 



IRELAND. 



the last ten years» yet be told me he never 
missed seeing the races, for they made him feel 
young and vigorous again ! 

On the Allowing morning I went in search 
of other sights. A round tower, in perfect 
preservation, stands on an elevation about 100 
feet high, just outside of the town, and on the 
same elevation stands the cathedral, a building 
of great interest, and at a little distance are the 
ruins of some old abbeys. On this spot the 
first ecclesiastical establishment in Ireland is 
said to have been formed by a holy mission^iry 
«rho came over about thirty years before St. 
'Patrick. 

FROM KILKENNY TO WATERFORD. 

From Kilkenny to Waterford the traveller 
rolls down hill along with all the waters of the 
oountry. The Suir, the Nore, and the Barrow, 
the three most considerable rivers of Ireland, 
flow in this direction. They all unite near Wa- 
terford, bearing limpid waves and verdant mead- 
ows in their train, and combine to form a mul- 
titude of charms in the vicinity of that city. 

At six in the morniAg we mounted our dili- 
gence cars. It was still somewhat dark, yet 
light enough to recognise a group of gloomy 
ifigures ttiat had gathered round the carriage. 
They were poor women, whom hunger had 
driven thus early from their beds. Their 
plaintive chorus was truly heartrending. They 
begged us, if we would not each give some- 
thing, to make up a sixpence between us, and 
they would divide it among themselves in half- 
pennies. When they saw that eur hearts con- 
tinued unmoved, they led forward a blind old 
woman, and brought her so close to the side of 
ihe car that we could see the hollow cavities of 
lier eyes. " There, your honours, there's mis- 
«ery for you. Give her a trifle, your honours, if 
it's only a penny, that you may prosper on your 
jourdey; that God may guard your precious 

/eyesight, and bring you back safe to your 

. homes.** The poor blind woman received some 
tokens of our compassion, and the others there- 

i upon became ^ess importunate on their own ac- 
count. I have often noticed among the Irish 

/beggars, that the wretched would modestly step 

. back and make room for those more wretched 
4han themselves. Travellers in Ireland cannot 
speak too often of the extreme misery of the 
Irish poor, if it be only to confute those among 
the English who will not believe in the exists 
ence of this misery, and who even ridicule 
those who speak of it on the evidence of their 
4>wn eyes. Decay, rags, beggary, and want 

. stare one in the face everywhere in Ireland. 
In the wilds of Clare, Donegal, Mayo, and. 

(Kerry, it is true, wretchedness presents itself 
in its most hideous forms ; but it is not only 
there that abject poverty forces itself npon our 
attention. We meet with it even in the most 
beautiful and fruitful regions, for Irish poverty 
is none of Nature*s making ; it is the work of 
men ; the work partly of cruel laws enacted by 
Englishmen, and partly of the natural indolence 
of the Irish themselves. In the beautiful dis- 
trict that we traversed on our way to Water- 
ford, poverty, want, and destitution presented 
themselves in th'eir accustomed abundance. 
J ^walked the last few miles to Waterford, a 



gentleman of the party oflering to shovir me the 
way along some by-paths. We stopped to look 
at some workmen employed on a new road, vis- 
ited a few poor farmhouses, and inspected the 
ruins of I]|unkit,*a small Danish castle, between 
whose walls some blackberry- bushes were still 
in bloom, at this advanced period of the seasoa. 
The climate of Ireland is noi calculated to ac- 
celerate either the unfolding of the blossom or 
the ripening of the fruit. The com grows so 
slowly that, though the summer seed may be 
put into the ground six week^ sooher than in 
those parts of the European continent that lie 
under the same latitude, yet the harvest is 
usually gathered in nearly six weeks later. In 
the north, we have countries where the life of 
Nature may be said to blaze up into flames for 
a few weeks in summer, and then to sink again 
into dust and ashes. In Ireland, Nature never 
bursts into a flame, nor ever becomes dust and 
ashes, but continues to glimmer away, all the 
year round, like a lighted sod of turf. 

WATERFORD. 

Waterfbrd and Wexford are cities founded 
by the Danes, and were retained by them longer 
than any other part of the country. Hence their 
Saxon names. Irish geography is full of these 
Saxon names, received either from the Danee 
or the English. Nor are these foreign denomi- 
nations confined to towns, or to the works of 
human hands. We have the Blackwater Riv- 
er, the Hungry Hills, near Bantry ; the Kasp- 
er Mountain, near Limerick ; and many others. 
The islands and promontories bear mostly Eng^ 
lish nam^ ; but many of these are, in reality, 
mere corruptions of the original Celtic, and, elf- 
ter all, the Celtic names are those whieh every- • 
where prevail, even within that part of the coun- 
try which long constituted what was termed the 
English pale. The names of English origin are 
generally known by the terminations ford, town» 
borough, dec. Those of Celtic origin may be 
known by the syllables Bally, Dun, Rath, Gleo, 
Kil, Ennis, dec. 

Bally means a town, and occucs in Ballyoa- 
sloe, Ballyporeen, Ballyshannon, Baiiymahon» 
and others. 

Dun is the old famous Cdtic word for hiU, and 
occurs in many continental names, from Dun- 
kirk to the confines of Italy. In Ireland we 
have Dondrum, Dundalk, Dunmore, Donkerin, 
Dungarvon, 6lc. 

Raih means nearly the same as Dun, and 
Glen signifies a valley. 

Kil is the ancient word for church, and in- 
numerable places in Ireland begin with this syl- 
lable, as Kilkenny, Killarney, Kilialoe, Kildare, 
Killala, Kilbegs, &c. 

Waterford is the sixth city in Ireland with 
about 30,000 inhabitants. Twenty years ago it 
contained 28.700, and may therefore be consid- 
ered to have remained stationary, as has been 
the case with' most of the towns in the south 
of Ireland. Even in Cork, from 1821 to 1831, 
the population increased only from 100,668, to 
107,016 inhabitants ; whereas, in Belfast, du- 
ring the same period, the augmentation was no 
less than forty-two per cen.t., in Gal way twenty* 
in I ondonderry sixteen, and in Newiy thirty 
per cent. 



IRELAND. 



BS 



If Witterford has not, however, increased 
^«tQcb in population during the last twenty 
^ears, it has increased vastly in the amount of 

• its exports, which, aocording to iifiiciai returns, 
liave more than doubled. The same number of 

. men, it would therefore seem must have twice 
•as mach employment as formerly. The chief 
article of export . from Waterford is grain to 
£ngland; and this branch of trade has gone on 
^eunstantly increasing, till it amounts now to five 
«times what it was forty years ago. 

In 180S the export of grain to England, from 
all Ireland, amoanted to 461,000 quarters, and 
remained nearly at this point till 1308, when it 
TBached 656,000 quarters. There was a slow in- 
vereasetöl 1818, when the amount was 1,200,000 
quarters. In 1825 it was two millions, in 
' 1837 three millions, and in 1838 it reached its 
maximum, or 3,447,000 quarters. Since then 
-there has been a failing off, but the amount is 
4Btill apward of two millions, chiefly oats. 

Waterford has two great commercial advan- 
tages : an admirable quay, and one of the finest 
.harbours in Ireland. The quay along the river- 
vside is a. mile in length, and so broad and eonve- 
- Dient that it must be invaluable to merchants 
.and seamen; Nor less so to paii^ters, on ac- 
*<)oont of the üne buildings that border it, and 
the picturesque views that present themselves 
^n the other side of the river, here about half a 
mile broad. The harbour, formed by the mouth 
^the Suiir, is broad, deep, and unincumbered by 
islands or sandbanks, and is not without some 
Tesemblance to the Bay of Cove, near Cork. 
The estuary pf the Suir runs ten or fifteen miles 
into the land, and then divides into two arms, 
the Suir to the west, and to the north the Bar- 
■'tow, which, at New Ross, receives the waters 
of the Nore. The country traversed by these 
livers belongs to the most beautiful districts of 
irelaad. , 

I took my tea that evening at an inn where 
a room had been fitted up expressly for the use 
^^ repealers. From the street you could read 
the inscription *' Repeal Rooms" on the win- 
'^ows. These repeal rooms are found in many 

• Insh towns, and are generally attended by the 
advocates of repeal, busily engaged in the pe- 
rusal ot the Irish and English opposition pa- 
iwrs. Most of the provincial papers of Ireland 
tare, of coarse,' opposition papers. In Waterford 
-alone three of them are published. The lead- 
ting tory paper in Ireland is the Dublin Evening 

Mml, whieh I never saw in any one of the re- 
-^al rooms I visited. Now we, in Grermany, if 
"we were ever such zealous repealers, we should 
-sometimes read the Mail, were it only to know 
what our opponents said of us ; but in England, 
the several parties are so engrossed by their 
own interests, that they read only what is said 
•on their own side of the question, scarcely 
troubling themselves, apparently, about the ar- 
^ments of their opponents, and taking on trust 
what their own advocates tell them of the 
«'treasonable and infamous machinations'' of 
those on the other side. 

At Waterford the eastern districts of Ireland 
may be said to commence. In the southwest 
— ^in Bantry, in Kerry, and in Glare— the south- 
ern nations, the Phcsnicians, the Spaniards, and 
French, hate effected their several landings ; at 
' Wa^erford, on the other band, begins the line of 



coast whioh haa always been easiest of aceeaa 
to those coming from the east-^to the Danes, 
the Welsh, and the English. Waterford and 
Wexford were the first and the last' points oc- 
cupied by the Danes. It was between Water- 
ford and Wexford that the celebrated Strong- 
bow landed. Henry the Second landed at Wa- 
terford, and thence effected his conquest of the 
island, and there too Cromwell landed, and, ad-> 
vancing into the heart of the country, con- 
quered Ireland once more. The city is full of 
reminiscences of Cromwell. The rock whence 
he cannonaded Waterford is still shown to stran- 
gers, and a ruined tower at the end of the quay 
still bears marks of Cromwell's bullets ; nor is 
this the Only piece of Irish masqnry from which 
no attempt has since been made tb obliterate 
the traces or repair the breaches left by Crom- 
well's soldiers. In the political condition of 
Ireland also, he has left wounds which time 
has not yet been able to heal. Qromwell's tune 
coincided with our Thirty Years' War, and, in 
many respects, the two would admit of a close 
comparison ; but the wounds inflicted on Ger- 
many by that war are almost forgotten, the ra- 
ins it left have disappeared. In Ireland, wounds 
neither heal nor are forgotten. The country 
bleeds from a thousand sores, many of them of 
old standing. Yet Ireland has too much tena- 
city of life to die away entirely, though she has 
never had energy enough to rouse herself to a 
healthy condition. 

FROM WATERFORD TO WEXFORD. 

When I came to the river-side, on the folv 
lowing morning, it was low water. Several 
vessels were lying on their broadsides in the 
mud, and above the beautiful bridge of Water- 
ford almost all the water seemed to have run 
out of the Suir. As the tide rose, however, the 
sandbanks and the mud were covered, the ships 
floated again, the landscape was again reflected 
in its watery mirror, and our steamer was able 
to rush forth on her noisy path. This steamer 
was called the Repealer, and being patronized 
by all the repealers was, sometimes, ealled the 
People's Steamer. On the flag was inscribed, 
" Hurrah for the Repeal of the Union !" O'Con- 
nell may therefore boast at his meetings that the 
cause of repeal is now progressing by steam. 
Not that upon this occasion it could be said to 
go far, for the steamer was only bound to New 
Ross, and an opposition boat was panting and 
splashing along by the side of ours. 

If I had uQt sailed down the Firth of Clyde, 
I should have been ready to admit this trip 
along the arms of Waterford harbour to be one' 
of the finest in the United Kingdom. The wa- 
ters flow through the deep and convenient bays 
more rapidly than through a lake, yet as the 
projecting hills completely conceal the sea, the 
traveller is tempted to believe himself on a lake, 
and looks with wonder at the mighty vessels 
ascending the river towards Waterford. Some- 
times the banks rise into gentle elevations, 
studded with country-seats and parks, at other 
times they rise abruptly into lofty rocks, crown- 
ed with trees. ^ 

Not far below Waterford are seen the exten- 
sive ruins of Dunbrody Abbey, among the most 
celebrated ruins of all Ireland, wliexe thev hold 



56 



IIt]»I/A']»fi. 



neai^y the same tank avthciMof Ifelrose do ia 
Scc^tiadd. llhey lay fkr from our riffw, like the 
days of Danbrody*8 greatness, and the Repealer, 
with ^he opposition boat treading on her heels, 
had no time to stop aod contemplate picturesque 
objects. To be sure it was not long before we 
had the pleasure of seeing the oppositionist run 
.herself {(ground on a sandbank, where, oar cap- 
. ti^in drily remarked, dhe must He lill the tide 
rajsed her ; nevertheless the Repealer ooald not 
afford to be behind her time at New Ross, so 
we turned onr back upon Dunbrody and began 
to ascend the stream of the beautiful Barrow. 

On board of an Irish steamer entertainment 
;is seldom wanting, fiven on ihe ^uarter-iieck 
there is twice as much conyersation as oq 
board of ap Ctiglish steamer, and on the fore- 
. castle we had not only musio but also dancing, 
paddy, to whom ab old door suffices for the 
flooring of a ball-room^ finds it, of course, diffi-^; 
,ca)t to resist the temptation of a apacious deek„ 
on which songie room remains, in spite of all thel 
butter-casks, meal-sacks, and hencoops, to sayj 
nothing of pigs and cattle. He lays his stickj 
and his .sorrows a^ide, and, with a tnerrier face 
than the man of five thousand a year can gen-j 
«rally boast of, Snatches the hand of some half- 
Tesistihg girl, and, in a joyous jig or reel, shakes 
his rags/ as briskly as though they were the 
Jingling lappets of a moUey garb. The paddle- 
inieels beat time to the dance, and the lovely 
banks of the Barrow enclose the spectacle with 
a decoration such as the stars of the ballet. 
might m^ t^r in yf^WL at Druiy liane or the 
Opera. 

Beautiful seats belonging to the families of 
Power, Asmond, and others, lay scattered along 
the banks ; and near Castle Ennis, in a large 
open meadow, I saw one of theHiiest, largest; 
and most picturesque oaks I had ever seen in 
my life, it was doubly interesting to me to 
look upon these ch&teauij:, for I had by my side 
an Irish priest, who was sketching to me the 
histories of the several fhmilies that resided in 
them. In one,' he told me, lived an old lady, 
the wMow of a distinguished rebel, who was 
beheaded during the last great rehellion. 

in passing a rock we fired off our gnus in 
compliment to the memory of a sailor, who, 
some months previously, had fallen ovei*board 
tiiere, and been droiwned. The sound was 
echoed jback from the rocks, and the manes of 
the deceased, I have no doubt, were highly 
gratified by the honour shown them. 

At New Ross we anchored, and, as this 
point is esteemed the most beautiful along the 
whole BarroW navigation,, it would have been 
well worth while to have halted there, if only 
to vievF the upper banks of the Barrow, which 
are said to surpass the tower ones in beauty, 
hut my travelling companion wished to avail 
himself of the fine night, and accordingly, at 
eleven o'clock, we started in a jaunting-car for 
Wexford, a distance of about twenty miles. 
The country between New Roes and Wexford 
is tolerably level, and of great fertility, and this 
is the character of nearly the whole of the 
county of Wexford, one of the districts of Ire- 
land that has many claims upon the attention 
of a stranger. From the ofllctal returns it 
would appear to be the coun^ in which public 
morality stood highest, for it is Ihat in whieh 



the f^yvt^est orHaes oeear ; • mä I ftmtär in rloott- 
ing over the returns, tih'at, though the murder» 
for all Ifeland ranged between 160 aed 300; yet 
there were freqnentiy years in whieh no crtaie- 
of the kind was committed in the county of 
Wexford. The people of Wexford I fouod» 
moreover, considered thems^ves much more 
intelligent and enlightened than their ooonery- 
men to the west, and the Barony 4>f Piirth, the 
south-eastern peninsula, eut off from the Atat 
of the county by the hills of Forth, is said to 
contain the most orderiy people in all Ireland. 
It was originally a Welsh coiooy, . phmted by 
Strongbow, and during seven eentuhes these 
colonists have kept themselves apart framthe^ 
rest of the population. They stiR marry, only 
among «themselves, aild In ihe last century th^ 
still 'understood Welsh. The most remarlBBble 
characteristic of the barony, however, is^shstit 
contftins no beffgars. It is as dhficult, in Ite- 
land, to imagroe a disCriot without btggnsr^a^ 
in other countries, to believe in the existence 
of a whole nation ef theen. In «bert, the Bar- 
ony of Forth is to the county of Wexford^'<wluit 
the latter is to Ireland. ' In Wexlbrd, the land ' 
is divided into a number of eaiall estates,, in- 
stead of being concentrated in a übw haiidB. 
There are no large proprietors, but all thoiuor» 
persons of moderate wealth, and abeeoleeialft 
is iMmost unknown. All this prevafls to <a 
still greater «xtent in the Barony efFoitli, 
where the peasants are generaUy the owuem 
of the soil th^ till, dwell in elean and orderly 
houses, and seem to feel that vags: are, aft ell 
events, a deformity. Their ooUyifes) sie sur- 
rounded by flower-gardens, they mingle not kk 
the political squabbles by which the rest Of lie- 
land is kept in hot water, «nd prateataBtsand 
catholics dwell among them in peace and^pDod- 
wHI. In a word, the Barony of Forth f reseats 
a moral picture that naturally awakens < Ihe it- 
quiry, «* And why is it not even so: thtoaghout 
thereetoflrelandf* 

At the halAvay house we took a fiesh bene» 
and stepped into the puMi&room-to<ffeoniit eor- 
selves with a glass of whialgr. Wefeund ttei» 
a number of teniperanee men, all deeoMtäd 
with their medals, and who, though txmslaiitly 
IB the -vioiiilty of the spirit4»ttleSy.nArekwflD' 
the hostess aseured os-Hk-eamed of dfllingilbr 
'< a drop."* Thc^ tM us they had most of theia 
been formeity habitual drmilBaBds, bat fOlttbec»- 
selves more happy than they eoridniesenberiA 
their altered oonditioa. These men appWMd 
to me like wild beasts, that, of their :osni to- 
cord, had bound thensehres m ebaias, wnd 
new displayed their chahis with pride .aadisat- 
isfaction. When one thinks of.tlie obanoa^thet 
the poisonous fire-water mast have,: ia & daap^ . 
cool climate, for a poor, thiidy elad man» whoee 
mind is seldom otherwise than dejeoted, it.is 
difllcutt to imagine that the constant sight of 
the whisky-bottle should net sul^eet then J^ 
the tortures of Tantalus. 

Father Mathew formed the subject. >ef their 
conversation, and in their hands they had laiga 
printed bills announcing an impending 'tisit of 
the apostle's to Wexford. Perhaps my Gefoma 
readers may not be displeased to ase.aiiteral 
translation of one of -these bdls. Hsieit is. 
At the top, in letters of eaormous site, waa 
printed: ««FA«ifaLMATa(Swii^Wwtso«»l'*iPi 



rRE^LA^D. 



trr 



t^a the. ^ooumeot. proceeded, thus : ^<The tee«- 
toulem «cui the friends pf^lenper^nce cause 
are hereby iaforaved that it is in oontemplatioa 
to form a public, procession, to consist of the 
Total Abstinence Societies of Wexford, and of 
all the Teetotalers who may be willing to join 
in doing honour to one so well descrying of it : 
and this procession» it is inteoded, shall proceed 
as far as Arkandrish, V> oaeet the Very Rever- 
end Theobald Mathew»> on bis way from New 
Ross to Wexfoid. Each society will be accomr 
panied by its own band, and the members ar^ 
invited to muster on Wexibrd Quay precisely 
at half-past nine n'olock." 

A? we were approaching the city of Wex- 
ford, we «gain passed several country-seat^ 
and my cempaiiion was wicked enough to in- 
itiate hiQ into the fao^i^'^a&airs of ma(iyofihe 
occupiers, then buried in profound sleep, and 

.little aware of the scandalous chronicle in which 

. soapy of them iwere made ta figure. One of 
them he described to me. as a great sporting 
iman ; another. as a/young man who, in his 
time» bad been distinguished in London for his 
achievements in breaking lamps, knocking dow^n 
watchmen, and kicki^ up riots, but who had 
aince got married, and lived very quietly in the 
happy county öf^ ^i^exford. A third was de- 
acrihed as a jeading man, of whose book» and 

.irtudies I was told many wonderful things. 
These reading men, sporting men, and kicking- 
up-riots young men, ~ are standing figures in 

. England, and are met with in all parts of the 
country. 

A few miles before reaching Wexford the 
road rpxis along l;he sea-shore, where my atten- 
tion was directed to a little natural curiosity, 
consist!;^ of several -small islands running in a 
straight line into the sea. They are connected 
by a narrow sandbag, which, is dry at low wa- 
ter, and then presents .the appearance of a long 
tongue of land, along which a carriage may 
drive to ihe extreme point. This strip of land 
is called St. Patrick's Bridge. Many other nat- 
rUral curiosities in Ireland have, in a similar 
way, heen made the property of the patiron 
saint. It 4s matter of wonder to me that the 
..Oiaut^s Causeii^r^y should not also have been 

, given to him rather than tOTingal ; but with 
Ulis giant the saint has oflen been obliged to^jfo 

. «hares, and ^t time« even with the Devil. 

vWSXFORD. 

•Weltford, which I viewed on the foUoviipg 
morning, is an old town, füll of narrow streets 
and small bofldings. The only broad and hand- 
some thoroughfare is the Quay, which runs 
along^e side of Wexford Haven. The har- 
bour of Wexford is distinguished as possessing 
more ships of its own than any other in Ireland. 
Many vefssels are built here, and American and 
Baltic timber, and Irish oak, are goods seen 
everywhere. Ifer^, for the first time, I saw an 
interesting piebe Of mabhinery called Perkins's 
Patent ^lip, by means of which vessels in the 
eonrse of building are raised and lowered ac- 
cording as the state of the tide requires. Such 
machines are found in so small a place as Wex- 
'ford, and are not found even iä'the largest of 
our German seaport towns ! 

A jrentleman to whomtbfs-matAiine belonged, 



and who bad daily to äiteöd to the raising and 
lowering of it, told me that the tide generally 
rose only four feet, and that spring tides rarely 
exceeded six feet and a half At WaterfotU 
the common tides rise ten feet, and extraordi- 
nary ones sixteen. At Tuskar Rock, on which 
a lighthouse stands, a few miles from Carnsor» 
Point, the tides sometimes rise as much a» 
twenty-^two feet, <arid -here appears to be the 
limit ^between the high tides of the Atlantic, 
and the low one«: of ibe Irish Sea. Local 
causes, however, such as the multitude of 
sandbanks in Wexford Haven, may contHbnte- 
to make the tide so insignificant at Wexford. 
The irregularity in the recurrence of the tides 
isanother anomaly at this place, and one which 
I can in no way explain to mysetf There 1» 
another place in Ireland where a siniilar irregu- 
larity is remarked, arid I Will therefore reserve^ 
Tor a future time, al few remarks whic^ auggeist 
themselves to me on the subject. 

In Wekford I had an opportunity of admiring 
what I had before admired, in many Irish sea- 
port towns — namely, the way in Which an Irish, 
porter carries a sack of flour. A porter in Ger- 
many generally bends down, grasps the sack ii^ 
his arms, and swings it upon his shoulder. In 
Englandi the heaviest loads are carried on the 
hesul, or rather on the back of the neck. For 
this purpose, the men have a peculiar kind t»f 
cushion, nvhich is fastened to the back of the 
head, by a broad band that, passes ropnd over 
the forehead. This cushion is made to fit to- 
the neck, is broad and fiat at the top, and upoa 
this, resting partly on the head, but chiefly on 
the nape of the neck, astonishing weights are 
sometimes carried. These "knots," as they 
are called, are seen in Ireland likewise, and tis 
porters in England are generally Irishmen, the 
knot may be an Irish invention fbr aught I 
Imow. Sacks of flour, however, are not car- 
ried in Ireland on knots. The porters place the 
burden on their hades, and then bring their 
arips, not over their shonlders, but round helow^ 
to support the sacks. No mander of carrying, 
it appears to me, can be more unsuitable to the 
whole eonstriictlon of our bodies, and I am dis- 
posed to set this invent^ndoWn among Paddy*» 
practical blunders. 

We oflen see in a small t>lace what we bäVe 
neglected at a large one, and so it happened 
that at Wexford F visited one of the raady hnn- 
dreds of infant Schools, now established in All. 
parts of England and Ireland. The schools are 
particulariy interesting in Ireland, on accouht 
of the mixture Of protjßstaht and catholic ch|l- 
dren that takes place there, and may even be 
taken as a proof of the advancing spirit of tol- 
eration, in the school which I visited ^Wex- 
ford, and which, like most infant schools in Ire- 
land, had existed for five years, there were 
nin^-pne catholic and thirty Protestant chil- 
dreir. They generally remain there till their 
12th year, but even after that age the catholic» 
continue to send their daughters to the Infant 
schools, because, as the teachers t6ld me, the 
parish schools were inferior to these elementary 
lestablishments. The Protestant children, »a 
the contrary, being better provided for, do not 
remain at the infant, schools beyond the usual 
time. 

The instruction at English IfifaUt schools i». 



4^ 



IRELAND. 



conveyed in poetical fonn, the little pupils learn- 
ing short verses, which the/ repeat or sing io 
chorus, accompanying it sometimes even with 
pantomimic gesticalation. Indeed, almost ev- 
«ry general movement of the school is ushered 
in by song. When coming to the school, for 
instance, the children sing a verse like the fol- 
lowing : 

" We*U go to oar plaew, and make no wry feces, 
And sayall our lessons distinctly and slow ; 
For If we don't do It, oor mistress will know it, 
And into the eonier we sorely shall go.** 

When I reached the school, all the little 
things were in the garden. When summoned 
by their mistress's bell, they imme4iately join- 
'«d hands, and marched in a long procession 
into the school-room, chanting a poem, of which 
the above lines ftfrme^ the first verse. The 
melody I recognised immediately as the " In- 
fant's March/' an old British national melody, 
which I had oAen heard in Ireland. The chil- 

. dren all looked cheerful, and sung out as loud 
^nd lustily as they could ; even the little three- 
year-old things, that could not join in the song, 
opened their mouths to a full stretch, as if they 
expected cherries to fall into them. AU the 
regular school lessons are in a similar manner 
put into verse, and to learn and repeat these 

. verses constitutes the chief instruction of the 
children. They have the multiplication table 
In rhyme, as well as an alphabet, and a course 
x)f natural history. The teacher, while repeat- 

, ing her metrical lesson, shows the letter, or a 
picture of the animal referred to, and the pic- 
tures used in the English infant schools for this 
.purpose are really excellent in their kind. To 
each lion, ox, or elephant, or to each A, X, or 
2, the children have some suitable verse which 
they sing in chorus. They have also a little 
pantomime performance, accompanied by a 
«ong, in which the little things imitate all ima- 
^nable actions with their hands and feet. The 
«owing and reaping of the husbandman, the pla- 
ning of the carpenter, the hammering of the 
smith, and the churning of the dairymaid, are 

. imitated by all the children at once, accompa- 
nying their little gesticulations with some sim- 
pie ditty, beginning : " This is the way the 

' carpenter planes ;" " This is the way we snuff 
the candle ;" " This is the way we churn our 
butter," <&c. Each subject \a followed by some 
instructive remarks relative to the carpenter's 
•object in planing his board, to the good effects 
•ofsnuffmgthe candle, or to the excellence of 
butter when put upon bread, with an injunction 
to those who have more bread-and-butter than 

. they want, to give qf their superfluity to those 
who have none. I never saw any of these 
verses except in manuscript, and the teachers 
told ille they had either made them themselves, 
or copied them from the collections of others. 

Many objects are attained at once by this 
pantomime and song. The children are made 
attentive to a multitude of little occurrences 
witnessed by them daily. Moreover, when 
they grow up, they are all of them, more or 
less, to be smiths, labourers, semstresses, and 
butter-churners, and it can hardly fail in after- 
life to enkven the more serious hours of me- 

• ohanical occupation, to look back on the days 
of infancy, when the busy movement was 
.aumioked in concert bj a handred little arms, 



and the sportive labonr was cheered by a merry 
song. Then, in performing their little panto- 
mime, the children leave their places, take 
some exercise, and interrupt the tedium of long 
sitting ; and, lastly, the voice and ear are thus 
kept in constant practice. The wonder to me 
was how the little ones first began to learn 
these verses. The teacher, of course, has not 
time to teach them separately to each child, 
and they are learned, in consequence, in a great 
measure without teaching. The smallest chil- 
dren begin by imitating the movement of the 
hands ; then they open their mouths, and catch 
a word here and there. The rhyming words 
gradually impress themselves on the memory, 
and thus, by adding word to word, a whole 
verse is learned at length, and the verse, in 
turn, gives birth to the clear and fruitful idea. 
This system of conveying instruction by means 
of little metrical tasks intended to be commit- 
ted to memory, is much in favour in England, 
and prevails at Eton as well as in the infant 
schools. As many very young children visit 
these infant schools, to whom it might scarcely 
be possible to keep their attention awake for 
several hours, a bedstead, for the accommoda- 
tion of these juvenile students when overtaken 
by slumber, is among the customary furniture 
of the school-room. 

We cannot expect, at the end of only five 
years, to see a veiy visible effect produced upon 
the present generation by these infant schools. 
Yet the effect must be an important one. Thous- 
ands of children that would otherwise have ran 
wild about the streets, or have grown up in idle- 
ness in wretched hovels, enjoy now the advan- 
tage of a rational superintendence, and of a 
temporary asylum far better than the parental 
roof can offer them. There is a great desire 
for instruction among the Irish, and such being 
the case, it is diflScult not to rest sanguine hopes 
on the host of new schools that are starting up 
in all parts of the country. I do not remember 
to have passed through any Irish town, in which 
I did not see a spick and span new school-hoose, 
and a distillery either shut up or going evidently 
to decay. In Wexford there were formerly 
seven breweries, of which only one is now in a 
prosperous condition. In New Ross, whence 
we came, and in Enniscorthy, whither we were 
going, the principal distilleries had all been 
closä. These are the facts to make a man 
cry " Hear, hear !" and " One cheer more !" 
These are things that to a traveller whose heart is 
in the right place, convey more real enjoyment, 
than the contemplation of the finest scenery or 
the most magnificent monuments. 

I have already spoken of the new catholic 
churches and steeples that present themselves 
in almost every large Irish town. In Wexford, 
we saw another new catholic building, namely 
a handsome catholic college. **Our young 
priests," the Irish say, ** have no longer occa- 
sion to go to Rome or Paris, if they wish to 
learn something." Add to these the newly- 
erected poor-houses that are scattered over all 
Ireland, and we shall have named, pretty nearly 
all the new buildings of the country, and shall 
have indicated, at the same time, the principal 
points from which the moral destitution of the 
country is to be attacked ; the poor-houses wiU 
direct their assaults against the widely-spread 



IRELAND. 



60 



«evüs of mendjcancy ; the school^homes against 
.popalar ignorance, and the new catholic church- 
es and college against the odious system of re- 
ligious servitude. 

Upon the whole a very fair idea may be form- 
ed of an Irish town of the present dav, by im- 
agining it to consist of the following elements : 
a number of handsome buildings, and about an 
equal number of ruinous dw.ellings, a quantity 
of wretched suburban huts, some new and well- 
built national üid infant schools, some old and 
some new catholic churches, a fever hospital, 
an extensive workhouse that looks like a for- 
tress, and perhaps a barrack or two for soldiers. 
The workhouses, I say, look like fortresses. 
They generally lie on a height outside the town, 
probably for the benefit of fresh air. They are 
built of a firm gray stone, are surrounded by 
liigh walls, and are generally decorated by little 
turrets and other castellated appendages. They 
are visible at a great distance, and are the ter- 
ror of all Irish beggars, who infinitely prefer a 
vagabond independence to the constraint and 
'Comfort of one of these establishments. In 
some places, no workhouses have yet been 
erected, and in such districts it is that the Irish 
.beggars swarm in greater masses than else- 
where. Foi;merly the poor of the country were 
. maintained exclusively by private benevolence^ 
which, in no part of the United Kingdom was 
•exercised more freely than in Ireland. This 
.private charity is now in some measure brought 
in^o collision with the system of order attempt- 
ed to be introduced by the state. The Irish, 
full of the spirit of kindness, do not like to have 
limits placed to the exercise of their private 
benevolence, and are, in consequence, doubly 
taxed by the imposition of a poor-rate ; so that, 
on the whole, they are anything hut friendly to 
the reform lately introduced among them. Not 
only the beggars, therefore, but the habitual 
.almsgivers also, look with an unfriendly eye 
upon poor-rates and workhouses, which they 
imagine will never be able to hold their ground 
in the country. It is to be hoped that their 
wishes and expectations in this respect may 
never be realized, for whatever inconveniences 
■may be inseparable from a transition from the 
maintenance of the poor by private charity, to 
\ their maintenance by the state, there cannot be 
a doubt that the latter is the preferable system. 

Wexford, during the last great rebellion, was 
the scene of almost unexampled atrocity. There 
is a \>ridge built over a narrow part of the bay. 
To this bridge the rebels, then' in possession of 
.the town, brought their English and Protestant 
prisoners, and flung them into the water. Mul- 
^ave, in his celebrated '' Memoirs of the Irish 
Rebellion,'* now rarely to be met with, says 
that the prisoners were speared at the same 
.moment from before and behind, and then lifted 
■ up on the pikes and thrown over the parapet of 
■the bridge. These are matters yet fresh in the 
memory of many living men, and when we 
ihink how rich in atrocities is the history of 
Irish iosurrections, a man scarcely ventures to 
xely much on the present tranquillity, or to feel 
much confidence that similar scenes may not 
.i>e acted again at no great distance of time. 



ENNISCORTHT AND THE. IRISH CLER. 

Enniscorthy is an ancient town. "An old 
town, a veiy old town, sir," said my compan- 
ion on the road, a gentleman in the commercial 
line: "for you see, sir, my grandfather lived 
there before me.'' I do not know that I ever 
met with such laughers anywhere as in Ireland. 
They will make bull after bull, an^l you can of- 
ten not tell whether intentionally ox otherwise, 
but they seldom fail to laugh heartily at the em- 
anations of their own wit. My present com- 
panion was an immoderate laugher. He UAA 
me we should soon be at Enniscorthy, and 
thereupon he laughed aloud ; this he followed 
up by a remark, that we might, possibly, go oa 
to Dublin together, and this again brought on 
a fit of boisterous merriment. 

Having time in the evening, before sunset, 
my laughing companion and I ascended Vine- 
gar Hil^ a place of some celebrity in Irish rev- 
olutionary history, and lying close to Enniscor- 
thy. Here a decisive battle was fought in 1798 
between the English troops and the Irish rebels, 
and of the latter many were hanged, by way of 
retaliation for the murders at Wexford bridge. 

All these incidents afforded matter of mirth 
to my companion, and as I thought he might 
have some recollection, from his younger days, 
of the details of the war, I beg^n to question 
1dm about the origin and causes of the rebellion, 
but all I could gather from him was, that the 
people " began by burning houses," and " ended 
by knocking everything to pieces." These in- 
cidents of rebellion and civil war are full of sig- 
nificance even at the present day, for 0*ConnelI 
takes care to keep alive the echo of their din, 
and avails himself of the artillery of a former 
century in his wordy war: against the England 
of the present day. 

Enniscorthy, as my companion expressed 
himself, is " a capital place for the wool trade." 
It enjoys greater celebrity, however, as the me- 
tropolis of Jrish Quakers, who hold a great Im- 
nual assembly in a meeting-house here. I was 
assured here, and in many other places in Ire- 
land, that the Quakers were relaxing very much 
in the strictness of their principles, as well as 
in the singularity of their costume. Unbecom- 
ing, however, as is their dress, particularly that 
of the women, it is not to be denied that many 
lovely faces may be seen peeping out from un- 
der their hideous bonnets. " There are some of 
the finest girls in the country among them," 
said my companion ; ^ one in particular I know, 
so beautiful that I can never think of her witb- 
oat laughing." Whereupon he laughed heartily 
again. 

At Enniscorthy lies one of Strongbows's cas- 
tles. Another I had seen on my way from 
Wexford. ITiat at Enniscorthy lies on an ele- 
vation within the town, is flanked by four tur- 
rets, and not only in perfect preservation, but 
even afifords a very comfortable residence to an 
ecclesiastic of the established church. These 
dwellings of a remote antiquity are not often 
found in English towns, but in thp country fre- 
quently. With this ecclesiastic, a polished and 
well-informed man, and an excellent specimen 
of a Tory gentleman, I spent a most agreeable 
and instructive evening, seated at an oiken ta« 



«0 



lllBEANl). 



•me Üxw^^mnßmt'vemm /oM('««dTflM.ii«e.l]iom 
which it was made /nrnst have stood at least 
six hundred years in th^ forest. 

Since the last '* clipping** Of the reffetraes of 
the Trish Protestant clergy, the rector of-Ennis- 
corthy had been reduced from £21*00 to about 
£1000 a year ; but it most not be supposed that 
every Protestant clergyman has been reduced to 
-the same ettent. The bishops and archbishops 
are those from whom the least has been taken, 
and the necessity of a further dipping is suf- 
ficiently shown by a Teference to the table of 
the revenues of the Irish dignitaries. There 
zfe in all twenty-two Anglican bishops and 

' afchbishops in Ireland» Only five less than in 
England.* Upon the wbö)e»the Irish bishops 
are better paid than those-öf England ; for the 
average income of the former is £7000 a year, 
and of the latter £6000. Four English bishops 
have less than ^IfOOO a year ; in ir^'änd there 
is not one whose ineomef fklt^ bdowthat amount. 
The two tiche« sees in Etfg;larrd «re those bf 

; Camerbuhr anai)uffbam,«aeh exceeding £ 19,000 
a year. The richest in Ireland is that of Ar- 

•inagh, with a yeiriy revenue of £1S,000. ' The 
general body of the Irish Protestant clergy is 
iA&o better Off than that of England. In the 

'latter country the average Yalue of a hving is 
MBB a year, whereas tn Ireland it ia £372. The 
gross income of the bii%ops ai^d archbishops of 
Ireland is £161,1 17, while those of England 

•hÄTe a revenne of £181,031, Eight millions of 
Irishmen, therefore, of whom six millions are 
eatholica, pay nearly as much to their proteetant 
bishops as fifteen mSHions of Englishmen, who 
are roostly protestants. This may serve as a 

'strtdard' by wtfich to estimate the extent of the 
wmistice to which the Irish are subjected by ex- 
isting laws and institutions. 

The name that prevAUs in and tbout Ennis- 
cortby is Murphy, and at the cbftteau of one 
jg^tlemdn of this name, the crown is sttlipre- 
36rted, which his anc^tors are said to hare 
^iwm as kings ü( Munster. How mirty are the 
rttsty; tlusty ctovhis «till ^prefeerved in diHTbrent 
pÄtts of Europe! and of tnany the present pos- 
fkessors stäl cherish the hope thkt a day w^l 
come when they may burnish ^p theh* hahblto 

'tigain. 

:mOM ElJmiÄCORtHTTOTHETALE ÖP 
AVOCA. 

Ontheroad iVom EtiiiiMirthy to Arkltf «v "wei 
]NUMed the mine of Ferns, the ancient resUenoei 
YJiTAiac M«roagh, thehiBt kii^ger iMifwter, wlio 
'lfti«ted<8tft>flgbowi«nd>tfae En^hiorer to Ire- 
^llalld,>erid^^>se ^iog^ transfeited Us^pwii regal 
power to the stranger. From the battlemenlsof 
the rained enstle of Ferns an itonhesket is'sus- 
i^ttd«d,<tolM lised for iHamiaations on there- 
enrrenee ef certotn gveat natlMial holidays. I 
1ittve*Temerlced «knilar inm baskets 'On «ether 
rained eastles in Ireland. 

From one end of the ooenty of Wexford to 
the other the landscape reMkied its pleasmg 
aivd CQltiveted character. The hedges: wüh 
which the ficikis were enekised consisted gen- 
erally of ^stne, end these being'in h1ossoai,|H«- 



* Mr. Kobl «ppean not to have heeo awMW of the^ez- 
tent to which (he Upwcqpal eitäbruhment iir Irelan«! wa« 
t«dMe<l hy the Church Teap^rftiitiw Hü! of'lS^.'-^TV. 



I^dttocd a hfjphly pleaef hi? effect with Aeir yelhur 
flower^. Here and there 'k field was encfosed 
by yonng En t ree s * « a nice fancy taste," as 
was observed by one of our fellow-passengers,, 
of whom the coachman had taken care to in- 
form roe, that he was a play-actor from Dublin. 
Pleonasms of this kind are <' genuine Irish." 

With a fine road before us, and an Opposition 
coach behind us, we rolled at a rapid pace into. 
the county of Wicklow. We did not even al- 
low ourselves time, when passftg through sfiaaU 
places, to hand ever in an orderly manner the 
letters and parcels intended for tbe people whose 
houses we parsed. They were merely thro^ 
out towards the houses for which they were di- 
rected. This is a eommon practice in England.. 
Generally, indeed, some one is waiting to c^tcS 
the parcel or mail-bag thrown from the coach ^ 
it passes along ; but if nobody present hnnself 
for that purpose, the coachman simply throwa 
the article intnisted to him in at the fan>ose-door,. 
or over' the garden-'wah, after first lifting the 
object high in the air« ot otherwise c;ttllhig the 
aitemkm of the hmifltes of the dwelling. In a 
similar ^vay the coachman, wftfaout stopping hie 
horses, catches the parcels which he is to for- 
ward to their places of destination. On the- 
Englfsh railways the carriages for the convey- 
ance of letters ahd parcels have often large n^s 
to catch np^parcMs' thrown ftom the tftaCions at 
which the trains do not stop. 

We passed the neighbodrbood where a few 
years ago a landed proprietor, of the name ef 
O'Brien, was murdered in open day, and in a 
field where seteral labourers were at wmic; 
and yet the mtirdferer «till eontinues nnknowa. 
So difficult is it to carry the law into force m 
Irelaiid, where ^ large a portion of the popula- 
tion, even where they do itot lend a hand to the 
murder, M all events sympathize with the mar- 
derer. In Ireland, not one-half of the commit- 
tals for crhnes lead to convrction, whereas more 
than t-Wo^ihifds of the comtnittals in England 
ahd ScotNtnd *ärc followed by convictions. 'In 
looking otcr' the iables of criminal statistics, 
I find, that iti 'one year there were in Enjglahd 
24,448 Ciiinmittals, and 17;88S convictions, be- 
ittgtn thepttJpOrtiem of eight to five and four- 
fifths ; ' hi the same year, the committals in Ire- 
land Were^6,392, ahd the convictions 11,049, or 
in the ratio of ei^t to three and t wo-th iiids. In 
another year F find, in Il'eland, '2S,d22 conr/mit- 
tals, and 11,194 cOMtRitions ; and m Bnglahdrin 
the same year, '27^187 coimhittals, Hibd tS.'ÖS? 
convictions. From this it would appear to be 
twice ae dffflc^ 4o bring a criminal to justice 
in Ireland Compared to England. 

Tn all 'the 'smäfl! places through which* we 
passed, "We heard heavy eompTaints ef the 
swarms of beggars by which they were rntrn- 
dsted, hr Consequence Of the poor having been 
driten out'of the larger towns, by the erection of 
the new workhouses. The last ' of these small 
places "Was 'Gorey, a few milea beyond which we 
entered the highly-priced county of Wicklow, ' 
whose pytalnida! faiUs had been beckoning* tons 
for some titne. The whole of this county is 
moU^taitiOtts, and nearly on every side it is sur- 
rouftdCd by friahts. Thci ttifountains hate all an. 
elegant pointed form, and the highest among 
them, the Lugnagilla, the Kippure, and the 
Bottce, rise to a hiiig M» uf 00 00 feet, nearly the 



i;bjb^.ai^J), 



«. 



highest elevation that occurs in Ireland. The 
gpeatOT part of I;h^>wate«&'t1laf #Me döwniroin^ 
their jsereyti g^ne ere-tmited in the-li/tle« riter 
•of A¥O0a; that fafls into the sea at Arkfdw. 

THE VAWJ OF; AVOCA ANp MOORE'S. 
POEMS. 

Interestttig and romantic poiftts abound <ifi' 
all patts «f the ceonty, but* the most celebrated 
of these is the Vale of Ayoca, and particnlariy 
ithe spot where the tributary waters meet to- 
other. The? Vajeof At^^jhj is a^ foi)(Hftr praued 
in Ireland, as the Va|e of Vapf luse is in south- 
ern France. To beautiful objects b^^utifyl 
names often unit!» themeelTei^, Ar^pa has 
quite - an- Italian sound. Many nanies with ah 
Italian^ sound 'OGcur in IMmd.- Pottii[mna, on 
the Shannon ; Liscanor Bey, on the coast of 
"Ctare ; Garomna; Castellb; and Oonneroara, in 
OoHtiaughl ; Marino^ and Matifta:, near Dublin. 
AI« these names all« of O^ltip origin, or are npt 
some of -them importations froni Italy T 

Beaiitifttlly' pietotesque. groups of- o^lcs and 
^eeehesi everywh^e KungwHi^ ivy, constitute 
oae of the main beautres of the V^e of Aroca. 
TMs, to some extent^ is the character of. all the 
Talleys »of "Wickio w, througtt which risers floiw, 
while ;the sammitä of the 'mountains, and- the 
unwatered vales, remain completely bare. The 
Irish : oak difl<^rs materiaHy in - appearance from 
the Eifglish oalc, yet this diflTeretfce, so striking 
that yoa^ notice it at the first glance, is difficult 
to desoHfo«; The branchy are less knotted and 
spreading. There seem to tne toh6 more straight 
Jinea and fewer crooked ones, more length and 
less breadth in the Irish' oak; On the other 
liand,'the iHsh assure us, the wood of then* oaks 
is harder and more lasting, though the trees 
maybe smaller than thoße fötind in -England^ 
and'Irfsh oak, I was toH, was preferred'in Ehg;- . 
land' for superior kfnds of carved :iVork. Th6: 
C8i<ireid'roof in Westminster Hall, for instance, 
is said* to consist of liltfh oak.: In the V^l'e of 
Ayoca,- however; the chtef hlpätrty of the oaks 
consi^tein the rich drapei^ of ivy by whiclhthey. 
are 8urrbi|nfded. i^ot a tree in th<e whole valfey 
is withoet the decoratiot», and • it id- higfldt inter- 
esting to exiimihe tfrej varied' and nnqroerleds 
fomis; in wt^ich the dependent' pbht winds it- 
seir around the npbte columns of the sylvj^n 
temple'. Here a soH^ry p^raslt^ is stealihig up 
the rhgged bark of some stnrdj/^ ibrester, while 
a Htile fhftlier on hundredsrhavief attached them^ 
selves 'to^ one stem,' and bjr, its site a wasted '' 
lifSteiss tt^k'ismade nch.'h^ verdure to tfc|e ex- 
tremestfmmilä of. its withered biranches;. At 
thb aiUnmnal iseasbn, when! vistted the place, 
th^ Mbves of the oak^ wi^e ^adt fäid^ hnd 
faRi^'«ad eottfrasti^ beantifbllywrttrth^. fresh 
grd#ft of tho ivyL Spqpg' and tiiittfnsin sefemed 
to-fi^in an embrace: Th^ Wiuriant growth 
of the! -Irish irfis^reaffly wondetfuK; bnt hi^i^nti- 
ful ab it^niay be toapainterV'iyer, to thfe growth 
of the trees the parasitical pliant fnut^ bci highly 
detrimental^ and the a^l^mt^toce of ity tnay be 
amohff their principal- causes of the -scarcity of 
wood m'lreUnd. 

The smaU t6wn of Aildow \t^ at the mont^ 
of the Avoctf, do^e' tO'tho sea-, and thfencA* the 
road äseends'th« wood^' vidljsy; passing through 
the leerest of '(^nartj in whidt. are •itiat^ii; 



Glenart. Castle and jShelton Abbey^two big 
picturesque buildiijgs that face eajcdti othei. The; 
who|e way from Arklow to Rathdrum, a small 
town about twelve miles up the valley, aboundal 
in the loveliest scenes. The most celebrated 
part, however, is that where the Avonbeg and. 
the Aughrim unite their waters with those of ^ 
the Avoca, though Moore has not told us, wheth- 
er, in celebrating the " meeting' of the waters," 
he alluded to the first meeting or the second. 
The Irish say the first is the one he meant, and 
they eveOf point out thO' tree nnder. which he 
4rew his firM inspiration of the well-known 
lines : 

" There .U not in the wide world a vtUley'804W^t. 
A« thiit vale in whose boeom the bright waten iqeet" 

Such are tl^e poet's words, and the Irish taW. 
thiem literally. There is nothiiig out of charac* 
ter in a little essi^eration when a, young poet 
oefebrates a beautiuil landscape, and calls it .tho 
** sweetest valley in.the world ;** but sucb thingSt 
must not hie said in plain prose. The nativeis 
of^ country, entertain for it the feeliijg^ of a. 
kjver, wrhose idlBas of the divinity of human na^^ 
ture, and the loveiiness.of a woman, are all con- 
centrated upon a single obj^. He.de votes him*- 
self to this individual object, in which h^ studio 
the numberless beauties of the human soul an^. 
the'human body ; and every charm that he diß- 
doyers^ he looks uppn as the personal tiierit of 
the beloved one, on whoiu he bestows the wholo . 
of th^ affection, which h^ ought, to have given , 
to the human race in genera^. . The English caU 
this"faÜing in love,*'^and it is 'a condition ia, 
which a man may be said to have fallen into so 
deep a hole', that he pan only see one star of the, 
thoosanddi that glittet on the, horizon. .. Some- 
thing like this j's the fueling of the IrisK for the 
Vale of Avoca.. Itö beauties have been ceje' 
brated by their poets and journalists, till ;all Ir«- 
land has fallen in love with the place^ as if it 
were the only lovely vallöy op the World's grjBaii; . 
round. The oft repeated lines, 

** There is |iot ii\ t^e wide.worlflj& valliiji fth af^rfnt -.. 

As ibaf vafe m whose bosom (he bri|;ht wtUers.me^; 

Oh; the last rays o#feelrfig^&fi<l ftfe" riiäist depart, • 
. Biftthe)faiiK«nof.tliovältey staAttiHule/fromUiiy hWN^i« 

havß probably contrihuted more than anyithfng;., 
else to give birth to th^t general affection, so., 
universally expressed in Jii^land, for the fajr- - 
Tamed spot, even by those who have never vis,lti 
edit: 

. There ocqur in every, lit^turfe shojrl strjktog;^ \ 
passages that ca|itivate the imäginatiörr with a? 
fdrce.fof which we find it diflttoilt, ofl imppsstf 
ble, tOi account. MÜli^mö of fTne sentences nvar . 
'be expended innrajn, while, two or three wordpf. 
may^thrilfför centuries on the hearts of a; nar ' 
tioh. This is a power which' Moore ofjifn ex- 
ercised in a high degr^, and to Tnany a seqU09- 
tered vale anq ruined castle his vereeis hate, 
given a fan^e that wiH probably* outline monu- 
Iments of bronze or granita In this way he h^ 
isung to us of the ** gloomy shore** of the eo- 
'chanting lake of -Gl^ndalotigl) which! visited" 
on the following day, and thus top he celebratoit ^ 
the beautifhl isle of Innisfallen at Killatney, and 
Arranmore, the largest of the Aitan isles, whose 
lahabitants are to this da^r convinood that fVom'* 
their shore they can descrf Hy Brysail, the en- 
chanted island^ the Patadiae of tha Heatbön 
Irish. 



63 



IRELAND. 



We oonnnit a great mistake when we look on 
Moore as an English poet. He is essentially 
an Irish genius, though he clothes his thoughts, 
feelings, and sentiments in the English language. 
The English may enjoy his versification, but 
they only half understand him, whereas the Irish 
idolize him. In his patriotic effusions Moore is 
animated by a spirit essentially anti-English. 
His is the sanguinary motto which O'Connellhas 
prefixed to his pamphlet on Ireland ; 

"Bat oDWArd i tlw grden banner rowinf , 
Go. fleth ev*ry «word to the hilt 1 
On oar side is virtue and Erin, 
On thei» is the Saxon and guUt !** 

0*Conneirs interminable speeches will long 
have been forgotten, when the Melodies of 
Moore will still keep the flame of patriotism 
alive in the hearts of succeeding generations. 
Moore, indeed, may be deemed the worst agita- 
tor of the two. He stirs the better afiections of 
his countrymen against England. He excites 
them to tears, to sighs, to blessings, to curses. 
^ 0*Conneil marches as a warrior to the field, and 
Muore walks by his side, the representative of 
y Ireland's ancient bards. Thomas Moore, Father 
Mathew, and Daniel O'Connell form the great 
triumvirate that preside at present over every 
moral movement in Ireland. 

After all, the greatest fault of the Vale of 
Avoca is that it is so short. How gladly would 
the eye feast on more of those beautiful mea- 
dows, those bold crags, those ivy-mantled oaks ! 

On leaving the Avoca, we enter the Vale of 
Avon, in which lies the little town of Rathdrum, 
where my host, who likewise keeps a shop for 
the sale of a great variety of articles, provides 
the traveller with clean and comfortable rooms, 
and excellent accommodation. This reminds 
me that I have not yet spoken a word of all the 
neat and comfortable rooms that I met with 
everywhere on my journey through Ireland. I 
never troubled myself much about the choice of 
^ my inn, and yet I soon felt the most perfect con- 
. miction that even in the smallest town I should 
be able to lie down at night in a clean and com- 
fortable bed. A clean and comfortable bed, 
however, must be with every traveller the main 
consideration, for the attendance is generally 
alow, and the cookery ilot to every man's taste. 
The beds are usually large, so large that they 
occupy nearly the whole room, leaving only 
space enough to walk round and seek a con- 
Tenient spot whence to climb upon the moun- 
tain of feathers. The refreshments consist usu- 
ally of mutton chops, potatoes, and tea. The 
tea is almost always good, the potatoes half 
Taw, and the mutton chops often so tough that 
you attack them with imminent risk to your 
teeth. Of this description were the mutton 
chops placed before me at Rathdrum, so I treat- 
ed tliero as the Irish sometiines do their her- 
rings ; I rubbed my potatoes against the brown 
and savoury sides of the mutton, and thus im- 
parted to them a delicate rdti flavour. It was a 
new variety of** potatoes and point." 

Not far from Rathdrum, in the vale of Avon- 
more, are some copper mines that threaten de- 
Btruction to the beautiful trees. The motto 
aays, indeed, utile cum dulci^ but unfortunately 
we oflen find the utile and the duici engaged in 
an irreconcilable feud. Even the salmon, that 
formerly abounded in the Avonmore, have been 



banished by these copper mines. The watery 
impregnated with sulpha r, thro^ up from the 
copper works, is the cause of this. When the 
salmon enter the Avomuore now, they either 
turn about again immediately, or jump upon the 
bank and "die dead." This is another of the 
many pleonasms that I have heard in Ireland, 
and that so frequently, that I am tempted to be- 
lieve there is something nationally chardcteristic 
about them. , i 

THE LAKES AND RUINI^ OF GLEN- 
DALOUGH. 

I had heard so much of the Seven Churches- 
and the Round Tower of the Vale of GlendaK 
ough, that I spent only a few hours in Rath- 
drum, and then hastened into the mountains on 
a small one-horse car ; had I known what an: 
incomparable spot of earth it is that is known 
by the name of Glendalough, the hours I spent 
at Rathdrum should have been reduced to as- - 
many minutes. The road passes through the 
Vale of Clara, watered by the Avonmore, and 
then runs ten miles in a sideward direction, to 
the sources of some tributary streams of that 
river. The country is very little inhabited. 
Along the whole of these ten miles I saw but 
one village. The mountains to the north of 
these valleys, however, are still more thinly 
peopled ; so much so, that they have received- 
the name of the " uninhabited mountains,'* and 
are in this respect quite a phenomenon, consid- 
ering their vicinity to Dublin. They occupy an 
extent of country nearly fiileen miles in length,, 
and ten in breadth ; and within this space, not 
only the mountains, but even the valleys, are al- 
most untenanted by man. The soil is every- 
where a thin covering of grass over a rocky 
bottom, and destitute of every other vegetation. 
Goats graze upon these mountains, and.wander 
about there in the same half-wild condition as 
over the mountains of Kerry. Sometimes, in- 
deed, they are said to become so wild, that the 
herdsman is forced to turn hunter, and, instead 
of catching his goats, to shoot them. In the last 
rebellion, one of the insurgent- chiefs kept his 
ground in these uninhabited mountains k>ng after 
thereat of the country had been tranquillized. 
' It remains incomprehensible to me, however,, 
that ao close to the metropolis of Ireland, so • 
wild a district can exist. There are within the 
Brit'sh dominions large districts of greater natu- 
ral fertility than any of which we can boast, but 
there are likewise districts much wikler thaa< 
any to be found in our less populous Germany, 
with all her forests and mountains. Have we 
a province in which goats or sheep live in a 
half- wild state 1 Even on our loiliest Alps, the 
cattle is everywhere tended and kept within 
some sort of eock>sttre. Nov/bere do I remem- 
ber in Germany to baveaeen a^cpuntry so utter- 
ly wild, so thinly peopled, and that by a oraee ^ 
living in such apparent wretchedness, as is the 
case with this Irish district, and with some I 
have seen in Scotland. These things form a 
part of the physiognomy of a country, and are 
characteristic of its social condition. 

A military road has been run through the wil- 
derness, wjth barracks, now occupied as police 
stations, at certain distances from each other. 
At the Laragh barracks three wild glens meet : 



IRELAND. 



^ 



Glen Avon, Olennalnass, and that into which 
we have now entered, Glendalough. We had 
scarcely done so, when we observed a man in a 
purple coat standing in front of a door, who, as 
soon as he obserced as, jumped upon the car, 
and said to me without farther ceremony, 
" Your honour will allow me to ride with you, I 
hope: I am the well-known guide of Glendal- 
oagh. My name's George Irwin, with your hon- 
our's leave.*" But I ought to describe the man 
before I allow him to speak. He bad a lung, 
shaggy, ragged beard, that hung in patches about 
his chin and cheek. His features were strongly 
marked, his cheeks weatherbeaten and meager, 
his forehead high and wrinkled. A pair of 
sparkling eyes glowed from under these wrin- 
kles, and from amid all these facial ruins there 
arose a boldly-curved aquiline nose. His voice 
was rude and wild,, and his words came bub- 
bling over his tongue like the wild waters of an 
Irish bog, over dirty rocks and mossy stones ; it 
seemed as though his throat had suffered by' a 
struggle of many years against the effects of 
wind, weather, and whiskey. 
"I'm George Irwin, your honour, the guide 
> of Glendalough. I've lived in this wilderness 
from a boy, and know every corner of it by 
heart. I know every legend that has come 
down from our ancestors, from generation to 
generation, and thßre's no man living can tell 
yon what I can. Tve shown all the wonders of 
the place to Sir Walter Scott, and his friend the 
famous Miss Edgeworth, and it's I was the guide 
of Her Most Gracious Majesty, when she came 
here as princess with her royal lady mother the 
Duchess of Kent. There are lots of guides here 
to be sure, but there's none of them can boast 
of what I can. Now, your honour, if you'll get 
down from the car and folk>w me, it's I alone 
can show you properly all the fine things that 
lie hid in yonder valley. This way, your hon- 
our; this way." And thus, almost by force, 
bat with constant demonstrations of politeness, 
he led me to the lakes of Glendalough, the Glen 
of the Two Lakes. 

I must own, I never met with a more intelli- 
gent or entertaining guide than George Irwin, 
and I oniy regret that it was impossible for me 
to understand all the speeches and narrations 
that poured almost incessantly from his lips. 
" Sir Walter Scott, the great poet of Scotland, 
told me, your honour, he had never seen a spot 
in the world equal for beauty to our lakes of 
Glendalough ; and of the Round Tower, which 
your honour shall see presently, he told me it 
was quite junique, and that in all Scotland there 
were only just the remains of two such towers, 
when we've more than a hundred in Ireland — 
and what beautiful and perfect ones among 
them ! And then there's our own famous poet 
Thomas Moore : we call him plain * Tommy,' as 
we allow ourselves to say * Dan' when we speak 
of the great O'Connell. Well, I've kno^n Tom- 
my these forty years, and he knows me well 
too, and he's written a poem about our lakes — 

' By that lake whose f Iqumy shore 
Skylark never warbles o'er. s 

Where the clitThanKS hifrh and steep, 
' Young Si* Kevin stole to sleet» * 

Oh, your honour', I know every word of it, hut 
I dare say your honour knows it too. Th^ 
yoUng princess too, her gracious majesty that is, 



was delighted with the wild charms of the scene», 
and I dare say it's the recollection of Glendal- 
ough that has determined her majesty to visit 
us again next year. Well, I hope, when she- 
does, I shall have the honour of showing her 
over the ground again. When she was her» 
last, ähe had to skip after me and her mother, 
to whom I was obliged to tell everything, but 
when she comes next, she'll come as' the mis- 
tress of all of us. But only look now, your hon- 
our. Here the wood becomes thinner; and 
now, as we step out of it, you have a view of 
the whole famous scene. These are the ruins 
^f the Seven Churches, with the Round Tower 
in the middle, and the lakes and the mountains^ 
behind." 

The scene wad indeed wonderful, and so pe- 
culiar in its kind, that I nowhere remember ta 
have seen anything like it. Wild, naked, dark, 
rocky mountains projected so a? to form a sharps 
promontory. To the right of this promontory 
runs Glendassan, to the left Glendalough. Yoii 
look into the two glens at once through the^ 
broad rocky gates. In the amphitheatre in front 
lie the lowly ruins of the seven churches, and 
amid them, forming a central point to the wholo 
scene, rises the slender tower, standing there in 
complete preservation in the wikierness, like- 
Pompey's Pillar in the desert of Alexandria. > 
Behind this antique temple lie the two far-famed 
lakes, like mirrors laid there to reflect the scene. 
The whole view was one of ruins. There were 
the ruins of nature and the ruins of art. Not 
the least vestige of cultivation was to be seen. 
At a distance some smoke rose to mark the ' 
dwelling of a mountaineer, and here and there 
lay scattered in the valley the cabins of a few 
professional guides, and of some peasants wha 
made a wretched subsistence by selling refresh- 
ments to visiters. ' ^ 

'*Its a melancholy condition in which your 
honour sees it now," began Irwin again ; ** bat 
when Dublin itself was only a tun-bog, there 
stood here a flourishing town, and a great theo- 
logical university, to which students came fron^ 
France and Germany, ay and from Italy too. 
This was in the first ages of Christianity. 
There was a college here, a convent, buildings 
for the students and professors, and no less than 
seyen churches. The number seven, as your 
honour knows, has^ always been a holy number» 
in the east as m the west. There were the 
seven wise men of Greece, the seven wonderr 
of the world, the seven councils of the bishope 
of Asia Minor, and in our blessed religion We- 
have seven sacraments and seven deadly sins. 
Therefore it was that our Irish ancestors alwayer 
built seven churches together, upon some of the 
most glorious spots in Erin. Most of these 
seven churches lie on our beautiful Shannon, 
the king of all British rivers. There are four 
sets of them there. First on Inchclorin, ai^ 
island of Lons^h Ree ; then there are the seven- ' 
churches (»fClanmacnoise, nearAthk>ne; then: 
there are those of Inniscaltra in Lough Derg». 
and those at Scattery Island, at the mouth of 
the Shannon. The most westerly seven church- 
es are those at Arranmore, where the people 
think they can see Paradise in clear weather. 
•Oh, Arranni'>>e, loved Arranmore, 
How oft I dream of thee !* 

Oh, I've been there, your honour, and could tell 



^^ 



im&i^A,Tajai. 



7(^1 a deal «f tlm isltificiii, if I < had toot now tQ 
«bowj£QaGlendalougb^ AH these sevenchuroh- 
€# tt^t you see before you are /fom the earliest 
times of Christianity inlrelaad; but God was 
'Worshipped 1q these valley^even before St. Pat- 
rick's time, iu the days when Fioonulla, the 
' da^igM>ai of Ur, was wanderiug oyer the lakes and 
mers of Ireiaad, and sighing lor the first sound 
of the mass belL that was to be the<signal of her 
release. On. the promontory .there I shall show 
j^ur honour some remains^ of Druidical temples» 
b(it here belbre. you stands the lofty round tower 
built in our country by the eastern fire- worship- 
pers, I know there. are some great scholars, 
jQur honour, who deny this„and say the round 
towers were built for other purposes by the 
<lh]:|atia^ i buiitV not true^ for aUXhetrayelleirs 
th^ hayo been here hay& told m^. that nothing 
likentheaetowersiiA to -beseen in.. any, part of 
Europe« .or anywhere btit in the East. And then«, 
«are» we Irish know well enqugl^ who it>waa 
tli^built these tow!ar9«.and what. they, did it for.. 
At daybreak, the pr/ests of thetice- worshippers 
4ised to mount (o thetop-ofithe tower, and cry 
^Ba;^l, Baal, BaaU' to the four quarters of the 
eomp^, by/Way of announcing the arriyal of 
th^lsuQ, and summoning the faithful to prayer.. 
AU itfais w&kaoW' weU enojugh, foe it has been 
handed down to us from generation to gcjneca- 
4iqh,r If it wasnU so ck»udy, there behii^l vts^ I 
<coukl eyenshow your honpur a mountain which , 
is x^led Baai's Mountain to this day/and.oyer 
the summit of which the fs^n. becomes yisible 
«yeiy, ^morniiyg /ronv the Round Tower. " 

X repeat^ these words, of Geor^ Xrwin^Sf be- 
«aj^e^they express a tradition, generally current 
«mong the^ lower Irish, and if therehe not some 
truth, in the tradition, we must believe in a won- 
•der/^uit^-as. greatr^namelj^ in the existence, of 
en illusion, almost amounting to a .monpmaniar , 
to .,which the gi^e^t. mesfi of 4i. niationhas^ ahc|ii^ 
dooed.itse^. 

The JU)aod.Tpwei;.oC Olend^oHghia ove.ofr 
thOplolkie^t arjdi riio^ «omplele ift.«aU iTßlaiid, 
It is.l^Q4eet,high,au4 Si fe^ in circumference, 
Therfloorie not, so^bigl^ up ,th^ 1^ ma^.^ot.be 
•eas^, reached, by.. chmhing». Near the sumitut 
ere4he four customaiy sr^U wi{)4o)^s or open-" 
ing^,,an^. two i othei^, somewhat low^^r, down. 
The, buiidingrhas been^eKecte^ bf.twq dj^^iip? 
tio^a. o.f , et<4aerf--^aaUe» andf e^y^iate* IV ^^• 
di^uli to look on theise^agpifii^ntf e^aoidi- 
na^y^ and, eoig^katieaLbUDdrngfi, w^hout parr> 
tic||ieg^tpgi iaahe passion, wiihc whiph tlrishmen 
epf^ of-themf So .great i^ this, ^hai^.almost 
ey^y;^it^iiaryr.n¥^'haf9r.put|hi^.opipion8AhQUt 
tbeit^.tOi paper^ end alpwpt jeyejcji ^udioua eecte- 
siairinc^Fesidingän a se^Oüded.pait. of^theeountry 
is »mß^i^f^h^^jBi iheq/ty respeiQting ,tbe round 
to wersr .which'ihe ii^end» to giye to <the , worldy 
wheneverrhisrafihirs allow him leisure.- 

I'he fieni^uasrof the Seyen Chunohes at Glen- 
^a)oujg^ lie^ scattered about the Eeux^^Towec 
inui4) in the sam^ w^y^as. at JSfattery Islaxid, 
and, thf whole site . is; still used a^ a icemetery 
by'^ the «'inhabitants of the -neighboucing glen. 
Close.to tbe foot of tbe.Round Teweir was the 
reoftAtr grave of a*. young, «rl The wooden 
eros;^ enacted. oy«r it was decorated with cutr 
tings of paper that ^ere playing in th<^ wind, 
^hile some had akready been scatteve^ around 
to «KeoosideiiMde distance. A small jioitioa of 



I jtbe site, call^ the Sacristy, i^ set ap^ as, a 
burying^ground for priests. St.'Kevin, tbejpatron 
of the Glen, is said to have prayed to Heaven 
that all buried within the compass of the Seven 
Churches, should be saved j or at least leniently 
dealt with, on the Day. of Judgment. On this 
account, the people of the surrounding country 
flock hither on some day in June, to decorate 
the graves and crosses of their friends with 
flowers, wreaths, and cuttings of paper, in com- 
memoration of the gpodness of St. Kevin, and 
in honour of the dead. 

" Oh. then it's a beautiful festiyal, your hon- 
our, and the whole churchyard is full of people 
singing and praying, that h^ve come from twenty 
and Jthirty miles rbund Glendalough- As theyr 
are tolerably easy about the souls of their ßiendsi, 
who have every hope of being, savedt the festi 
vail is not a very mdahcholy one, but on the 
contrary^ so,ipay often, that I might be tempted to 
oaU the churchy^: * Erin's Pl6asure-^ound.* ** 

Here <also |)opiilar tradition points to certain 
gravee a» those of ancient Irish king^. The . 
entrance to the enclosure is throtigh an old half- 
^iaous Saxon. gate« now. thickly clothed in ivy. 
Among the stones that lie scattered about, are. 
many; of which . extraordinary tales are tbtd. 
Thus, one haa a hole to kneel, in, and prayers 
said on this stone are supposed to have a more 
than ordinary efficacy.. There is also a, stone 
cross which women eii^brace who long tot the 
joy^. of maternity. Yet to .sp;eak truth, this 
cross must be a vwy superfluous pieice of furni- 
ture in a country where families seem to be, 
everywhere blessed, with such an abundance of ' 
oflTspring. 

Next to the ruins lies the smaller of the two 
lakes, *' It is also called t!he ta^ of Serpents, 
ybif r honour, or Lough Kapeas^a ; for into this 
lake it wa»,. your honour» that St. Patrick ban- 
ished all the snffkes of Irblan4* 1*^^ sqakes, 
naturi^y enough, <were little pleased with such 
damp lodglp^ and one big,.q,ne» in particular: ^ 
usedioflen to. put upiit^; head and pray the saint' 
to grant it a Itttle more liberty,' So'St, Patrick . 
in b^. 1^ wfitwe^ '^XP'V, ^ circle on tte |;röund^ 
ari^tol^ the. serpent to cf^ns^der .that as, its own 
groimd^ Now^ when they" h^h to build the,. 
Seven.Churche^Uie' serpent was very ahgi^at 
v^hit: it- consider^ a^ aSf) invasion of its own 
territory.; anfl ^ night it used tp cjomp out (^/ 
the waterr epd, defeti-p^ what the; workpeople' 
had buiii during the daye At last St. Patrick 
prai^d,toßoii,to diii^eiis^l^m.fröm the promise 
he had li^e to the. anake^ an^ God: allowed ' 
the s^V^i to. b^njsh thjB reptUe.into the lake, 
again, and then the s/i^orkihfen gpt OQ fast ehoöi^ . 
with thei hi^l^ing^*' 

irwin weni onto tell toe the reason yhjr.for 
ISpQ yeais.no stylart^ bad ever warbfed Vet 
the globpy shore of t^e large];: lake. 

" Whea. the- eey en r churches were buofding^, . 
ybtir honojM-.itwasjtheekyli^rk^ that used eveiy, 
nkorningito calj tne jmen to their work. They . 
had no watches in those days^ and the song << 
the lark served äs a signad that it was time to 
hfegin their lafiwüh Waii'whei* thfehoJif work 
was at an end« 3tr I&vin deelared Oiat no laiic 
was worthy to a«fseed?tboae puma birds that 
bad hetoed inJthe boildin|.of the churches. For ^ 
it was St. Kevdn;that'bunt the seven qhurohee» 
and it. was. he was the.irst Bishop of Glehdar 



IRELAND 



es 



rloagli. la time, however, these seven phurQhes, 
and every seven rhurches in Ireland, fell into 
the power of thex English, and everything here 
went to ruin and decay, and the see of Glenda- 
lough was merged in that of Dublin. But old 
as these churches are, we Irishmen know the 
names of every one of them. That heap of 
«tones there, your honour, is Trinity church, 
that bit of wall there belonged to Our Lady's 
^Itapel, and that other was part of St. Kevin's 
cLurch. We shall remember these names as 
long as there's a stone remaining." 

On the narrow isthmus between the two 
lakes are some traces ofancient circumvallation. 
One,' seventeen paces in diameter, and in per- 
fect pceservation, was at once declared by Ir- 
win to be a temple of the Druids. Other anti- 
quarians pretend that it was only an enclosure 
for cattle. I am disposed to reject both suppo- 
sitions, ^or a temple the wall is scarcely large 
enough, and for an enclosure for cattle it is built 
with to(f much care and solidity. 

On St. Kevin's day, of the preceding year, 
this isthmus had been the scene of a great tem- 
perance festival. Father Mathew had chosen 
that day for holding a great meeting on a spot 
4S0 dear to the recoUection of every Irishman. 

"It was upon that wall, your honour, that 
the heaven-gifted man stood to address the 
people. Tuere they were from Glenmacnass, 
and Glenavonraore, and the Vale of Avoca, and 
■from Glen.iialure, and the goatherds from. the 
uninhabited mountains, and people from all the 
country round, twenty or thirty thousand of 
them at least, and a great many nobility and 
sentry among them. Through the village of 
Kathdrum alone, twenty-four tempeflance socie- 
^es marcl^ed with their bands of music. Faith, 
I.don*t believe since the days of St. Kevin there 
ever were so many people assembled here on a 
pious errand. Some thousands took the pledge 
that day ; and I believe, your honour, that those 
'who took it here, between the Ldke of the Ser- 
pents and the lake o*er whose gloomy shore 
skylark never warbles, within view of St Kevin's 
i»ed, and of the seven churches, and of the ven- 
erable old pillar temple, and on the ground that 
was held to be holy by our ancestors, even in 
the times of the Druids — no, I don't believe 
those who took the pledge here that day will be 
80 easily persuaded to break it." 

On the second lake a boat was awaiting us, 
and we rowed out to enjoy the view of the 
overhanging rocks. The great wonder of these 
rocks is St. Kevin's bed, a little cavern, hollow- 
ed out apparently by the hand of man, and just 
large enough for one person to lie down and 
stretch himself out in it. It is situated forty 
feet above the lake, but a narrow path leads up 
to it, and every woman who lies down there 
may expect plenty of children and an easy de- 
livery. As we were rowing along the lake, we 
observed, winding up this path« our tail of 
women and girls, who thus far had followed us 
• at every step. I had forgotten to mention this 
tail It consisted of women, maidens, lads, and 
children, who attached themselves to us imme- 
diately on our entrance into the glen. Every 
stranger in Ireland must expect to carry a tail 
of this sort behind him, and will find it as im- 
possible to divert himself of it, as O'Connell 
finds it to dispense with his taÜ. You may 
E 



pray or you may scold, but leave yon they will 
not. They run along by your side, and it is 
hard but they will find an opportunity, now and 
then, to put in a word, by way of lending a 
helping hand to your regular guide. These 
would-be attendants of ours were now on theur 
way to St. Kevin's bed, and seemed all desirous 
of entering it; but an old woman drove them 
all away, declaring It was her privilege to show 
strangers the position of a woman in the saint's 
bed. This is the bed whence poor Kathleen 
was hurled down the beetling rock by the pious 
Kevin. Irwin told me the legend somewhat 
more fully than Moore tells it, and added that 
the saint prayed to Heaven that no one might 
ever again be drowned in that lake. " And 
that's now 1300 years ago, your honour, and no 
man, woman, or child, has ever been drowned 
in the lake since. That's the reason people are 
so fond of bathing here ; but no naan would set 
foot in the other lake, the Lake of Serpents. • 
Now, what I tell your honour is true ; and if it 
stands otherwise in books, it's the books that 
are wrong. Sure, we've better authority tliaa 
books, for we have it all handed down from 
generation to generation." 
' I lingered fondly about . the lovely scene I 
was about to quit. I passed all its details once 
more in review : the beautiful lakes, the gloomy 
rocks, the Druidicat isthmus, the crosses, the 
churches, the graves, and the rouncl tower. 
What abundance of interesting objects Was - 
here ! At length I passed out through the old» 
half ruined ivy-mantled gate, and by the side 
of a thorn-bush of extreme old age, which Irwin 
told me marked the boundary of the city that 
once stood here ; I mounted my car, and rolled 
away, for once blessing the Irish for their in- 
vention of the jaunting car, which allowed me, 
instead of keeping my looks fixed on the horse, 
to turn them towards Glendalough, as long as ' 
a glance could he caught of its beauties. 

FROM GLENDALOUGH TO DUBLIN. 

At Rathdrum t was told, though there were 
several hundreds of protestants in the place, 
not one of them had taken the pledge. The 
same remark had been made to me in several 
towns of the south. In the north, on the con- 
trary, many protestants have taken the pledge. 
The protestants in the south, being the smaller 
number, are probably jealous of a movement 
which originated with the catholics. 

Near Rathdrum are some copper-mines, the 
property of Cornwall gentlemen of the name of 
Williams, who, I was told, were likewise the 
owners of some mines in America No less 
than two thousand workmen are employed in 
the mines of the vales of Avonmore and Avoca. 
The managers are Englishmen, the workmen 
Irishmen. Some lead-mines are also worked 
in the neighbourhood, under the direction of the 
Irish Mining Company.- 

In the workhouse at Rathdrum I found 300 
paupers. Three months before they told me 
there had been 350 inmates ; but it was now 
the potato- harvest, so there was plenty of work, 
and potatoes were cheap. At that period of 
the year numbers were sure to demand theur 
discharge, whereas in spring they crowded to 
the house. 



w 



IRELAND 



I know not whether the pmteetants of Ruth- 
druai are particalarly zealous, or whether their 
Tiews prevail generalliy among the protestants 
of Irefand, but I was told very few protestanta 
would send ibeir children to the national school 
at Ilaihdrum. The great dispute between the 
catholics and protestants rests on the question 
whetlier the whole hiblp, or only extracts, shall 
be given to the children to read. The catholics 
are for giving only extracts, and they have car- 
ried (heir point, they and their friends being in 
a majority at the Board of Education in Dublin. 

Twenty or thirty years ag(» there was not one 
good house in Ratbdrura; at present it is a very 
neat and orderly little town. The question 
whether Ireland is an improving country must 
be answered, in many respects, in the affirma- 
tive. The external appearance of the towns 
aeems to have improved everywhere within the 
hst twenty years ; the roads, canals, and other 
means of transport, are every day becoming 
better; agriculture and arboriculture are fo^ 
lowed with more intelligence, as you may con 
Tince yourself while passing along the highway. 
The increase of schools is extraordrnarjr, and 
to is the diminution of crime. Party spirit, 
farticularly in religions matters, appears also 
to have lost much of its former asperity. One 
ijiant evil, however, remains—name!^, the pov- 
erty of the masses, and amid all the other im- 
provements, this evil remains undiminished, 
nay, appears even to be on the increase. 

It was on a Sunday that I again mounted a 
t^r to visit a lew metre of the beauties of the 
«iounty of WicUo^— the Devil's Glen, the Glen 
a( tlie Down^, the Rock of Glencarrig, ^. I 
have already mentioned the peculiar grouping 
of Irish mountains, which c»ften He side by side 
in the plain, leaving broad, open, and conve- 
nient passes between them. A mountain pass 
genpraily rises to a culminating point, and then 
descends again. In treldnd you often pass 
along quite level ground between two hills, and 
continue so to do till you emerge into the plain 
again, which produces a most pleastng etTect. 

By ascending the valley of the little river 
- Vartry, which falls into the sea at Wicklow, 
you arrive at the Devil's Glen, a wild narrow 
|»äss» tbn>ugh which the river rushes« aftel' hav- 
ing just fallen in a magnificent cascade from 
the wild marshy summit. This DeviPs Glen, 
profane though its ni^me may be, seems to be 
very pious in it^ observance (>f the Sunday, for 
the iron gate at the entrance had been closed in 
honour of the day, and to keep out the vulgar 
n>ob of Sunday sight-seers. I had met many 
things of the kind before, both in England and 
Ireland, but that a wild mountain glen was to 
be closed against ä traveller on a Sunday seemed 
to me to be something new. Being a foreigner, 
however, an exception was made ia my favour, 
and I was admitted by a side gate. 

Compared to what he has done in other parts 
of the world, it must be owned the devil had 
easy work of it in this glen. The rocks, to be 
sure, are wild, lofty, and rugged enough ; still 
the V jrk to be done was not so hard that they 
need have called in the great and powerful 
spirit, who in bis time had to build devil's bridges, 
and to scoop out devil's caverns, qf a very dif- 
ijerent character. 

I woald fain have returned by anotiier and 



wilder path on the other side of the river, hot; 
was told that Mr. S , to whom that bf»*-» of the 
valley belonged, allowed no one to pass along 
that road on a Sunday. The DeviPs Glen, on 
the whole, afforded me much less enjoymec* 
than the park of the Cunningham family at 
Mount Kennedy. The situation and soil of this 
park are particularly favourable to the growth 
of evergreens, and here, amicf an inconceivable 
profusion of laurels and hollies, I beheld, on a^ 
meadow, the largest arbutus in Ireland. The 
main trunk, or the ** master tree," as the gar- 
dener expressed himself, had been cut down, , 
for what reason I have forgotten ; but no lesa 
than twenty-five large branches had sprung np 
on all sides from the root, I walked round the 
extreme points of the branches, and found the 
circumference to be eighty-three paces. Another 
colossal arbutus, of about the same size, existed 
a few years ago at Rogerstown, near Dublin, 
but was blown down by a storm in 1839. The 
old and massive trees which we now admire so 
much were planted for us in a remote antiquity. 
Daily their number is lessened by the blast of 
the hurricane, ^r the more destructive, hand of 
man A re we planting trees.that will he equaHjr 
Tenerable to our posterity, some five or six cen- 
turies hence 1 or are these vegetable Methusa- 
lems to be altogether eradicated from our globe t. 

Cypresses a^ were growing here in the open 
air, in fifty-three degrees north latitude. In- 
deed there cannot be a doubt that Ireland is. the 
most northerly country in which the cypress 
will grow. Of rose-trees in full bearing at this 
advanced season I make no rpention, for I fbund 
them In the farthest north of Ireland, and some- 
times high «nou|;h to ovt;rshadow the roof of a 
cottage. 

Leaving Mount Kennedy House we passed 
the Glen of the Downs, a beautiful corridor of 
rocks, richly decorated with oaks, ivy, and 
hushes. It contains some magnificent points- 
of view, but you never quit the plain, and after . 
a few minutes you emerge again into the open 
country, with the Great Sugar-loaf to your lefl, 
and the Little Sugar-loaf to your right. These 
are the most remarkable mountains in the whole 
county of Wicklow, for they taper upward in- 
as regular a form as the Egyptian pyramids. 
Their names, however, famous as'thijy have 
become in Ireland, cannot have been borne by 
them very long, for it is only during the last 
three hundred years that it has been the prac- 
tice to make sugar into the conical loaves iiv 
which we now see it. Öoth mountains are per- 
fectly naked from the base to the summit. 

Not far from the Sugar-loaves lies the cele- 
brated Killonderry park and the little town of 
Bray, and a little farther on, the park and man- 
sion of Powerscourt, and the little town of En- 
niskerry. Thence follows a constant succession 
of small towns and villages, parks, castles» 
houses, cottages, and other descriptions of 
country-seats, all more or less beautiful, either 
on account of their situation, or of the grounds 
about them. Hence to Dublin is a densely- 
peopled district, which Is to Ireland what fhe 
country of Kent is to England. Of the old, 
Celtic, turfy, wild Ireland, not a trace is here ta 
he seen. Everything becomes more and mora 
English, till we arrive at Kingstown, whence a 
convenient railway conveys ns back to DuUia; 



IHBLANII. 



«r 



WIBLlN.-^yGONNELL ANi> THfi RE- 
PEAL ASSOCIATION. 

Oq my retarn to Dublin, my first Tisit was 
«lade to the inao whom every stranger must be 
as Qurious to see in the Irish metropolis« as the 
Pope in Rome. ] mean the man who at that 
time was lord mayor of Dublin, and \^'ho 
throughout Ireland is spoken of as the '* Great," 
the '* ImamrtaL," but for whom in London they 
have names of a very different signification. It 
is unquestionably a great pleasure to spend 'a 
quarter of an hour in conversation with so able, 
80 experienced» so distinguished ä man; and 
Oßß, who, within the walls of his own boose« 
exercises hospitality so agreeably. But of 
O.^ConneU. as a private man I mean tQ. make as 
Utile «leotioo as of any oth^ priyate man with 
ij^pm in the coqrse ejf my. travels I may haye 
ti^eome acquainted. 

Some loen reniain« throoghottt U(0% oonfiaed 
wiüüii their private circle» and suc^ may be 
liki to liave aa exclusive property ia them- 
aeivea; bat ethers, as actors, autbora, and 
atAiemneii, io. steppiog out upon, the sUgis of 
jfttbilic; life, abttadoa to puUic examination and 
eriliciam ».partof ihat exohisive property whicli 
they possesaed in their owe persons» Such 
SM», a» long aa they reuin the. vestment of the 
^ they «re playinf» may be freely and openly 
merged and spoken of, withoiit the slightest 
hveach of delieaey^ Nay, one may atJ»ek them, 
in their poUie character with asperity and even 
ImattUty, and yet retain a feeling of friendshti» 
ami goodwill ler theps as private men. Now 
of all men in England none has retained so 
little exclusive ri^ to himself as O'Connell. 
Ne other has made himaelr eo.eompietely piiblie 
property. Hie life ie one of ioceeaant! pehlicity* 
JSfen his dooMstic and family relatipns he 
melons the subject of diaeeeaion at pnblie meet^ 
iagst a thing the less wonderfol,*as bis house 
' and family depend, in a: great measure, on the 
pphpei for anpport. In Germany, and, indeed, 
in. meet oonntries, a stranger who travels to 
8tnd>y the geography of the coui^try and the 
character of the people, has no need to inquire 
aboot the personal particnlars of distinguished 
men. To travel in Ireland and ignore 0*C<m« 
aell ia imposaibla He is himself an ethoo- 
grapbieal phenomenon; paitly because, during 
thirty yeara. he has eiercised so extraordinary 
an inflnence over tlie character and oircom- 
stanees of his countrymen ; partly, because he 
and his infinence form in themselveea pheno' 
menon to be explain^ only by reference to Irish 
netiimalit|r. 

The Irish are a people afler the old. cut, a 
people to whom we nowhere else see anything 
similar. With as, people have become too rea* 
sonable, too enlightened, and much too self- 
dependent to make it possible for an individual 
to step from among us and gn>w up into auch 
overwhelming dimensions» We deride those 
who announce themselves^ as prophets, but 
among the Irish the old faith in saints and 
miracles is as fresh as ever. They are patri- 
otic, blind, crednlous, chilillike, and enthusi- 
astic enough to abandon themselves to the most 
entire admiratMia of an individual : and, in their 
eagerness, to be relieved from: the many real 
grievanees under whksh they suffer, they are 



ready to over|fla4 wHh applause eixeiy one wlip 
shows sympathy in their äufferinga or a devih 
tion to their cause. 

In a weiUregulated state, and with an intelli- 
gent well- informed people, among Whom all, or 
nearly all, have the means of t^baistence, the 
apparition and success of a popular tribune like 
0*Connell would be impossible. It was only in 
proportion as the inßma blehs of Rome sunk to 
a^ lower and mure degraded condition, that the 
tribunes became more prominent. Ireland is a 
country in which there are a Larger number of 
individuals without rights or property than in 
any other in the world ; this it is that make» it 
the soil in which ulented, active, and eloquent 
men like O*0onnell are sure to thrive. O'Con*. 
nell for thirty years has been the vigorous and 
indefatigable arm of Ireland, that has reooveredl 
for her, one by one, many of her pluuKlered; 
rights from among the glowing embers of an^ 
English parliement. 

I am eet about to attempt a complete picture, 
of this man, a task for which I am by no meaee. 
certain that I am qualified, hut 1 will invite my 
readers, at least, to aoeompany me to a meelH 
ing of the BmerM Legion^ as 0*Opnnel somen- 
what poetically denominatea his Repealeca,. 
where I will introduoe them to a few of thosdr 
men with whete eau^es tliey have probably be^ 
come familiar through the raedijain of thei newsp 
papers. It was one of the ordinary repeali^ 
meetings» and was held in a large hall of « 
plaoe called the.Com Exchange. I arrived be* 
fore the hour indteated, but the room was. al* 
ready crowded to suffocation. To jud^s Iram. 
their outward appeamnce« the assembly was 
almost wholly composed Of suoh Kerry and 
county of Clare men aa I had seen in the nar 
tional costume in the interior of the land. To. 
my great astoniehroeat, I found that veiy four 
of those preaem Imd whole coats to their hacks^ 
and that tlie.nuoiber.of those whom weehoold 
hmk upon as reputable eiiizens was very small^ 
indeed. Th^ sat or atood on benches mnged 
in an amphitbeatrical form around the walls, and 
in the centre stood a table, at which were sitr 
ting some aeeretarriea and newspaper reporters. 
A gallery overhead was filled with women and 
Children. 

Observing there was still some room at the 
table, I endeavoured to make my way thither, 
and found plenty of willing arms to assist me 
forward over the railing. I waa then enabled, 
to take up a more central position at the table. 
Everywhere from the railing hung rags, for 
tdm clothes it wss evident constituted the gen^ 
eral uniform of the Emerald Legion. I do not 
mean to say anything offensive in making this 
remark, but simply to state it as a fact that 
most of 0'ConneU*s Repeal friends were arrayed 
in rags. On the following morning, to be sure, . 
I found it stated, in the several Dublin papers, 
that the meeting in question had been ^ very 
respectably attended." The whole assembly, 
on the contrary, bore an appearance, such aa 
could have been presented in France or Ger- 
many, only after the fowest strata of societof 
had been thrown to. the suriace by the agitation ' 
of a political hurricane. 

At the end of the table stood a high chair for 
the chairman, and another, by the side of it, for 
O'Connell' Over the. chainnan'a seat was sua^ . 



IRELAND. * 



ptnded a green flag, with the word«, ** Repeal ! 
Repeal! Repeal!*' embroidered on it in gold 
letters. Along the walla, aa is often done in 
England on similar occasions, wdre seen mot- 
toes something like the following : 

*' A peopde that does not desire to make its 
ewn laws, desires slavery, and merits slavery." 

** He who commits a crime strengthens our 
enemies." 

** Repeal is Erin's right and God's decree.*' 

It is one of the most remarkable character- 
jsties of the British constitution and of the na- 
tional character, and one not suhiciently esti- 

' mated by foreigners, that a course of agitation 
90 nearly approaching to insurrection can be 
tolerated, without any serious mischief follow- 
ing. O'Connell's career of thirty years, as the 
popular tribune, the great agitator of Ireland, 
much as it may be to the credit of the man's 
tact» who, always verging on the extreme limits 
of the law, appears never to have actually over- 

> stepped them, is, at the same time, still more 
creditable to the political liberty and to the na- 
tional character of the British people, not ex* 
«epting the government. I will not stop to ask 
whether a man like O'Cohnel could, either in 
France or Germany, have run the career he has 
run, without passing through a prison or under 
the guillotine, but even in the freest republics 
of Greece or Rome we meet with no example 
of a man assuming with impunity, and for a 
lengthened period, a position of such uncom- 
promising hostility against the great aristocracy 
of the state as O'Connell has assumed against 
the aristocracy of England and Ireland. 

Loud cheers and vociferations in the street, 
aeeompanying the rolling of a carriage, an- 
nounced the arrival of the Lord Mayor. He 
entered, along with the chairman. I was cer- 
tainly without any feeling of prejudice against 
O'Oonnell^ but I must own he looked more lu- 
dicrous than dignified in his official costume as 
Lord Mayor. The splendid red robe lined with 
fur, and the long double gold chain, did not be- 
come him, and yet I had seen the Lord Mayor 
of London in his official tineiy, without receiving 
any similar impression. K however, my im- 
pression was correct, it conveys no blame on 
0*Connell, for many^ commanding sfHrits are 
little at their ease under the trammels of a uni- 
form. The cheers with which he was received 
were enthusiastic,' and each of the leadens of 
of the Emerald Legion, on entemg the room, 
was likewise received with enthusiastic cheers. 
Men, women, and children, all screamed and 
•cheered as loud as they could. Among these 
leaders none excited my interest more than 
Turn Steele, who, in bis cliaracter of O'Connell's 
sateUite, is almost «s celebrated in Ireland as 
O'Connell liimself, though, without O'Connell, 
Steele would probably be as little known as 
Jupiter's satellites if there were no Jupiter. 
Mr. Steele, I was assured, had run through a 
handsome fortune '* in agitating ;" and, tliougb 
now reduced in his circumstances, was only the 
more Warmly attached to the cause for which 
be had sacrificed himself. His ap|)earance re- 
minds one of Shakspeare's descri|i*ion f»f Bar- 
dolph. He has the long meager figure of a 
C(»rporal, with a genuine red Bardttlfili nose. 
His face, to be sure, bears deeper traces of care 



and melaiicholy than ean be snppoeed of Bar- 
dolph. Steele, to all appearance, is a man veiy 
deficient in point of education, and when he 
speaks it is diflfcult to conceive how he can 
have obtained any popular influence, unless in 
consideration of the money he has expended. 
He may have merits unknown to me, but in 
describing his outward appearance I have not 
gone one hair's breadth too far. Falstaff blames 
Prince Henry for the bad company in whk;h he 
finds him, and I must own Tom's physiognomy 
was one in whose society I would rather not 
have seen O'Connell. 

Renewed cheers ushered in John O'Connell, 
the ** amiable son of the Liberator," as he was 
repeatedly called in the course of the speeches 
that followed. All O^Connell's sons and sons- 
in-law stand by their father. They are all agi- 
tators and repealers. Even his grandsons aid 
in the cause \ for it is not long since O'Connell, 
on the b'n'th of his^twenty-first or twenty-second 
grandson, had him immediately inscribed among 
the members of the Repeal Association. John 
O'Connell, said to be, after his father, one of 
the most distinguished members H)f the family, 
bears but little personal resemblanoe to the 
patriarch of agitation. John is smaller • and 
more handsomely made than his father. 

A short speech from the chairman opened the 
meeting. The minutes of the previous meeting 
were read. Some contributions to the repeiS 
rent were handed in and deposited in a box ott 
the table, and some letters were read irom in- 
dividuals of more than ordinary importance, 
who expressed themselves friendly to the re- 
peal cause. 

John O'Connell then rose, rendered an ac- 
count of a journey through the interior of Ire- 
land, whence he had just returned, and spoke 
of the magnificent meetings he had attended at 
Balliwatobber,' Ballinmormagh, Kilkerrin, Kil- 
biny, and other equally obscure places. AH the 
respectable people, he said, were heart and soul 
against the Union, many priests had promise^ 
their support, and, at the difll^rent meetings in 
question, at least 50,000 persons had pledged 
themselves to repeal. 

*' Dan" himself rose next, and adjusted bis 
wig. This is a favourite irkk with him, and 
occurs frequently in the course of an animated 
speech. On one occasion even he took oflT his 
wig at a public meeting, and displayed his bald 
head, in reply to some personal remarks from 
an antagonist. In addition to this tittle man- 
oeuvre of the wig, he has various little tricks or 
habits. For instance, he frequently moves aboat 
on hi^ heels, and turns now to the right, now 
to the lefl; and in this occasional change of 
position, there seemed to me to he more habit 
than design. He also makes great use of his 
hands when speaking, and, to give more em- 
phasis, strikes with some force upon the table 
or other object that happens to stand before 
him. At the meeting in question, he had chosen 
for this purpose the arm of the presidential 
chair, and the chairman leaned over to the other 
side for the evident purpose of abamloning one 
ot his lateral supports to the oratpr's gesticu- 
lations. 

O'Connell's delivery is clear and firm, yet lesa 
fluent than his son; he fref|uenlly hesitates, 
and refloats his sentences, except m the muea 



I re; LAND. 



.69 



MUnated parts of bi^ address. I was surprised 
to ^nd that he. spoke with so stroog an Irish 
accent, or brogue. Nut that be talked of rr.j>ale, 
like Tom Steele, and many others who were 
present, but still I was struck by many pecu- 
liarities of dialect which I should feel it difficult 
to. describe. The theme of his discourse was 
the theme of all the political discourses of his 
life — the oppression of Ireland by the English. 
To have heard one of his speeches is to have 
lieard them all, for not only the. theme, but also 
the main thoughts and expressions are the 
same. He has certain telling words and short 
I sentences, which he knows his audiences are 
never tired of applauding. ♦' Erin," " Poor 
Erin," the »'Emerald Isle," when spoken in a 
certain tone, are sure to be followed by peals of 
"bravo," and "hurrah." The «'Saxons," ho- 
nourable as the name is in itself, has become a 
term of abuse among the Irish, to designate the 
English ; and this word, pronounced by O'Con- 
netl, with a peculiar lengthened emphasis on 
the **a," never fails to draw down applause. 
The word "repeal," too, from the lips of OCon- 
aeU, is certain to receive the customary ho> 
soars. At other times he assumes a particu- 
larly devout tone, and speaks of the '* Almighty," 
and the " blood of the Redeemer," when all pre- 
sent uncover themselves, for I had forgotten to 
say that the assembly, kept their hats, and rag- 
ged caps on their heads. Tom Steele had a 
little low cap on, which did nut« however, pre- 
Tent me from noticing a faculty he possesses of 
moving the whole skin of his head, together 
with hair, cap, and all. In speaking, I also no- 
ticed that he had a habit of constantly licking 
liis lips with his tongue — ^the result, probably, of 
embarrassmeut. 

Certain thoughts and expressions repur pon- 
tinually, in O'Conneirs speeches, like the white 
horse of Wouvermanns, and the cascade of 
Ruysdael, and, in the same way, certain little 
incidents are repeated, at the repeal meetings, 
with unvarying regularity. Letters are read, 
facts from Irish history, calculated to inspire 
liatred of the English, are diligently sought 
for, reports of provincial meetings are pom- 
pously communicated, and the contributions to 
the repeal fund are handed m, accompanied 
by many expressions of gratitude and esteem 
towards the giyers. As often as possible stran- 
gers from the wilds of Amei^ca, or from some 
other remote country, are introduced, and made 
to deliver a speech, or at least a few words, 
expressive of their sympathy for the cause. 
O'Coonell, meanwhile, leads every thing, and 
accompanies every incident by a few suitahle re- 
marks, or by some pointed attack upon England. 

'* England," said he,at the meeting in question, 
" has everywhere been for slavery. Whitherso- 
ever we look, England has reduced mankind to 
servitude. In Asia she has converted 100 mil- 
lions of freemen into slaves. In Africa there are 
English slaves. In Australia, round every island 
abe4as thrown I er chains./ It is the very nature 
of England to subdue and to make slaves of all 
nations, whether adjacent or remote, that have 
it not in their pitwer to resist her. Even Ire- 
land, our beautiful, our unhappy Ireland, our 
holy ialand^loud cheers) — affords the most 
«triking example of England's love for despot- 
ism and tyranny. For 60U years the Saxons 



TT^' Bravo')— have directed all their efforts to 
our. entire oppression ; all their etideavours 
have been to make their profit of us at our ex- 
pense, to annihilate our nationality, and to con- 
vert us into the willing agents of their despotic 
behests. Who, I ask, is to blame, if we are 
poor, and cannot clothe and feed ourselves 
better than we do 1 (* T,he Saxons !' exclaimed 
a loud voice from one of the back rows.) Ay, 
the Saxons are to blame ! Whose fault is it 
that in our country, su blessed with fertility by 
Providence, so many human beings— -I shudder 
to say it — die annually of hunger ? (» The Sax- 
ons !' repeated the same voice.) Ay, the Sax- 
ons! -Who has destroyed our manufactures 
and our industry 1 The Saxons! Who has 
prevented the development of that intellectuajl 
culture, in which we were once so far in ad- 
vance of all the rest of Europe! The Normans 
and their brothers the Saxons ! Who has 
hitherto prevented us from assuming that rank 
among the nations of the world, to which our 
natural resources and the talents given us by 
.God so justly entitle us? And who is it that 
has made the word Irishman to sound less 
proudly than Frenchman, Spaniard, or German 1 
('The Saxons!' responded the voice that had 
twice before been heard.) Yes. the Saxons! 
the English! despotic England is to blame! 
There was a time when America too was in a 
«mdition of servitude, but the Americans have 
thrown off the yoke, and are now, to the morti- 
fication of England, a free and powerful nation. 
I do not say that I would have yon imitate the 
example of America in its fullest extent. Our 
object may be attained by the pacific means of 
a legal opposition, I declare myself altogether 
opposed to every kind of physical force. There 
are some among us, I know, who have recom- 
mended an appeal to force ; but I hope that ou 
due reflection they will agree with me, that 
were we to recur to physical force, we should 
completely ruin our cause. For my own part, 
I would rather retire from the theatre of publie 
life altogether, and spend the remainder of my 
days in utter solitude, than league myself with 
men who would persist in recommending such 
illegitimate and ill judged means for the attain- 
ment q( so righteous a cause. (No applause 
followed.) I therefore wish qot to be misunder- 
stood, when I direct attention to the example 
of America. I would have you emulate the 
Americans, in their love of liberty and of theb* 
native land, in their persevering opposition to 
the tyranny of England, and id their manly re- 
sistance to attacks made upon their rights as 
citizens and men ; but I do not recommend you 
to imitate the manner of their resistance, which 
was a sanguinary and an armed one. We can 
attain our aim, only by maintaining a menacing 
position ; \ty keeping attention constantly fixed 
on our interests : by continually exciting ani- 
mosity against England, tyrannical England; 
and by warming our breasts with the love of 
Ireland, our beautiful, piach to be pitied Ire- 
land ! The more men we can animate with 
enthusiasm for our cause, the more we can de- 
monstrate to ourselves, and to Englishmen, and 
to the whole world, the revolting injustice that 
England has done us, and under which we still 
suffer, the more hope is there that we may at 
last have a majority in parliament, and obtain 



Til 



iRfiLANl^. 



Justice for Erin. Be active and Tlgilant. At- 
aociate, agitate, and stand by me. For forty 
^^rs I have striven and fought against des- 
'pbtisro, against bigotry, against the Tories, 
against England, and all for Ireland (cheers), 
and every true-hearted Irishman loves me the 
better for it. (Cheers.) For forty years I have 
bad but one object in view ; justice to Ireland, 
and the abolition of English tyranny. And has 
the struggle of so many years been carried on 
in vain t Have we not obtained the abrogation 
of the atrocious penal laws ? Has not our re- 
ligion been emancipated? Have we not seat 
and voice in parliament 1 Do we not now 
participate in the municipal administration of 
our own towns ? Let what is past inspire you 
with confidence in the future. Repeal will, 
niust be obtained, as a crown to the wh<fle 
great wwk. When we have obtained repeal, 
äen only as an independent nation shall we 
stand on an equal footing with England. Then 
only can Ireland flourish, then only can we hope 
to enjoy all the blessings with which the Al- 
mighty (here they all pulled off their cape) has 
gii'ted our beautiful Enn, our holy isle; (* Hear, 
hear,' from Tom Steele, O'Connell's most dili- 
gent crier of * hear, hear.') There is but one 
thing can save Ireland, and that is repeal ! The 
wellbelng of all of you depends on repeal ! With 
tepeal you will be happy and rißb, and obtain 
all you wish and strive for. As long as I live, 
therefore, I shall cry ont fur repeal, and you too 
must shout repeal to the end of your days. 
('Bravo, bravo! hurrah! repeal!') Too ask 
me who will obtain repeal for you. I will. I 
offer the people of Ireland repeal — (* Bravo I*)— 
and I promise you that if you are bat resolved 
on it, you shall have it. I have often been de- 
ceived by England. Often have I had the pro- 
taiise of the English ministry and the English 
pariiament, that the demands of Ireland shoaM 
be heard, and that her wrongs should he re- 
dressed. On the faith of thOse promisee I 
preached patience to you, and begged yOu to 
await the fulfilment of England's promises. And 
^ou followed my injunctions. You wore tran- 
auil and silent, and Ireland was ready to receive 
from England, as an act of graoe, what she 
might have demanded as her own good right. 
Jut England never availed herself of the oppor- 
,tunity I aflTorded her, to act greatly and noMy. 
When I and Ireland were silent, England forgot 
ber promises, and the old injustice oontiooed 
unredressed." 

After continuing for some time longer in this 
strain of biiter animosity against En^and, he 
concluded, amid vociferous applause, by telling 
bis bearers that if they were but nnit^d they 
Would yet be a nation again. A bunch of grapes 
ivas then handed him by way of refreshment ; 
but he rose again repeatedly in the course of 
the meeting, to make a few brief remarks upon 
the incidents that happened to arise. Thus, for 
instance, he spoke with much apparent feelmg 
when a little boy, about eight years old, stepped 
forward, and handed in £4 as the contribution 
of his schoolfellows to the repeal rent. O'Con- 
nell gave his hand to the child, after having first 
taken bis hat oflT to him, and asked his name, 
whi<th was loudjy proclaimed to the assembly. 



for every one moat owti that there is a 1 
kable expression of fox-iike öonning fn the MNtt- 
tenance of O'Connell. 

Next followed a •ubseriptibn froM the wotttbai 
of Limerick, which called forth from O'ConlitMl 
some complimentary remarks lo the f^ir ii^ab- 
itants of that city, who, on the motion of Tom 
Steele, were greeted with three loud and ringr 
ing cheers. A contribution from Galvvay called 
O'Connell again on his legs. There were no 
tmer Irish hearts anywhere, be said, than in 
Con naught, hut he was aware that the large 
graziers there dreaded a repeal of the union, as 
Hkely to lead in England to the imposition of tn 
import duty on Irish cattle. 

*' I look up<m every apprehension of the kind,** 
he continued, ** as entirely unfounded. Do ftm. 
believe the English will be less hungry after tho 
repeal of the union than they are now t I be- 
lieve tbey will have as much appetite then at 
ever they had. They like onr cattle now better 
than what they get fVom abroad, and hereafter, 
when we are independent again, oor meadow» 
and our cornfields will be better cultivated, akid 
we shall be able to offer them better cattle tliMa 
we can now. And shoald they then refuse to 
take it, because it was not onion eatlie, why, I 
believe that our independence would awaken a» 
to increased industry, and we should soon be 
able to buy the Connaught cattle for onr own 
consumption, without being at all beholden t» 
England for taking>it o'ff our bands. Besides, 
we know that the union aflbrds no protection te 
oor graziers, for the English will certainly be 
deterred by no consideration for us firom getting 
their cattle elsewhere, if they can boy it diesiger 
and better than they can from as. On this pant 
the new tariff has suflSciently enlightened m, in. 
draviring up which, not the least coneideratioa 
was shown for our interests ; and if that tariff 
has had no greater influence on oor cattle trade 
than it has, the reason is, that they can get sap- 
plied by us with a better and a comparatively 
cheaper article than by the foreigner." 

A letter was then read fVom a Lord Freneb, 
who, as O'Connell observed, was the' first bnd 
that had declared in ft voar of reform. 

From the town of Drogheda came j6M, ^and 
this donation was received with great demoiK 
strations of satisfaction, and O'Connell called on 
every town in Ireland to imitate so gk>rioos wa 
example ; in doing so, he drew so animated and 
affectmg a picture of the goodness, patriotisaa, 
and genuine Irish spirit by which the people of 
Drogheda were animated, of whom nkie oat of 
every ten were repealers, that be almost burst 
into tears. Once, indeed, be really did abed 
tears, when, speaking of the present character 
of the jndicial bench, he made some allusions to 
a former judge, a deceased fViend, of whom he 
spoke in the warmest terms of eulogy and aflbe- 
tion. 0*Connell stopped short in the middle of 
his speech, and wept. C^est impossible, nuns js ' 
Vai tw. 

The smaller donations were, in my eye8,4u>w- 
ever, mpre remarkable than these larger ones. 
There were many of a shilling, eightpenoe, six- 
pence, and one even of twopence, the contribe- 
tion, probably, of a beggar. Among those pre- 
sent many were indncä by the reading of the 



It was a curious spectacle to see the handsomie, list to contribttte trifling sums. One roan on a 
innocent child by the aide of the veteran ioir^ 1 back bench eried oat he would give bU be ted 



IRELAND. 



71 



^iSio«i!t'bim,and sent down (burpence, which werd 
-doty allowed to fall into khe money-box. O'Con- 
"aell himself handed in a number of shillings 
"wrapped in paper, and laid them on the big box. 
"The sums thus made np of the pence and shil- 
^iinigs of the poor, and sent to OX^onnell and his 
friends, to be applied to the promotion of repeal, 
are very.considerabte. So large an ^moant was 
named to me that I am afraid to repeat it. 

By way of conclusion to the spectacle, a Ger- 
»man was brooght into the fire. He had just ar- 
>i»ved from America, and had, I believe, brought 
'^vHh him letters of introduction to 0*Connell. 
This Gei'man assured the assembly that on the 
"Other side of the Atlantic no one doubted of the 
«ventoal success of the repeal movement ; and 
then he went on to compare 0*Connell with 
Washington, and said that the name of Irishman, 
which bad formerly been a stigma in America, 
bad come to be a title of honour since O'Con- 
nell had so gallantly devoted himself to the re- 
^al of the union, and since Father Mathew had 
80 triumphantly advocated the cause of temper- 
ance. 

AH Uiese proceedings occupied several hours, 
^and it' was growing dusk when the meeting 
%roke up ; yet I did not see one individual with- 
'draw, though of course most of them were mere- 
ly spectators, and Could take no part in the busi- 
ness of the day, beyond occasionally joining iii 
-the cry of "heaV, hear!" They all retained 
-their places, however, even when O^Connell 
«poke of ihe international relations of the conti- 
nental powerd of Europe ; mattei^s which, I am 
-certain, were far above the comprehension of 
4tbose he addressed. At last, When all the letters 
had been read, and all the contributions gathered 
in, and the big money-box tolerably well fiilled, 
»the m«»eting was declared,to he at an end. By 
ni^y of finale, however, Tom Steele jumped upon 
'(the table, and called for three cheers for the 
>qoeen, three cheers for Ireland, three cheers for 
repeal, and three cheers for the noble German 
from America. Thus ended the aflTair, and, ac^ 
cOttipanied by loud applause, the lord mayor 
walked out of the room. Amid the loud hurrahs 
AOf those in the street, I saw him enter a very 
stately and magnificent coach, in which he re- 
inmed home in state, drawn by two handsome 
dapple-gray horses. 

While through the window I was contempla- 
ting his departure, I suddenly beard the clatter 
of money behind me, and, on turning round, per- 
/«eived that some one had been careless enough 
to overturn the great box, and that several per- 
sons ^ere busily engaged in collecting the pen- 
nies and shillings and sovereigns that had been 
«ent spinning and rolling about. 0*Conneirs 
son stood close by, and watched the whole scene. 
This money-box, I must own, offended me 
more than any other part of the spectacle. I 
•cannot forgive* O^Connell, and I do not believe 
posterity will forgive him, for making his patri- 
otic endeavours a source of pecuniary profit to 
himself, and that openly, and without the least 
apparent sense of shame. Indeed, he has quite 
reconciled his delicacy to the proceeding, and 
intrenches himself behind arguments like the 
following : <* I was a barrister in excellent prac- 
tice, and my income was more likely to increase 
ithan fall off. I threw up thiff practice, and de- 
moted myself entirely to the cansef of Ireland. 



This cause is a very expensive one to me» for 
I have not only my own fampy to maintain, but 
likewise many of those who help mc into par- 
liament, and enable me to act there with efficacy. 
Nothing is more reasonable than that Ireland 
should remunerate me for these expenses, and 
inderhnify me for the loss I have sustained in 
giving iip my practice. I can, therefore, accept 
the 0*ConneH tribute from my countrymen with 
the best conscience in the world." 

In most of his speeches he reiterates his de- 
mands for money, or vindicates his claim to the 
^support of his countrymen, and an indemnifica- 
tion for his sacrifices. By so doin^, he places 
powerful weapons in the hands of his enemies, 
who make no hesitation to designate him as a 
"regular mendicant," a "false prophet," a 
" knave in politics, and a hypocrite in religion.*' 
The bitterest reproaches are addressed to him, 
for coaxing the pennies out of the pockets of the 
poor, in order that he and his may live in luxu- 
ry. His friends, on the other hand, many of 
whom contribMte a part of the money, tell us 
that 0*Connell cannot do otherwise than he 
does ; that if he is to devote all his energies to 
the country, he must take the money, and that 
if the people cease to give their money, they 
must abandon all hope of repeal. 

What, however, shall an impartial stranger 
say ? Perhaps it may be difficult for him to de- 
cide, without such ap insight into the heart and 
the private circumstances of O'Cohnell, as God 
alone can possess. The following facts, how- 
ever, are indisputable; In consequence of O'Con- 
neirs patriotic and inflammatory endeavours, he 
is in the enjoyment of a very large income (xpore 
than £10,000 a year, it is said), and upon this 
income he and his family live in luxury, better 
clothed and better f«^ Iban the thousands fh>m 
whom this income is derived. O^Coonell and 
his relatives have no idea of saying, " We will 
go in rags, and eat potatoes and salt, like the 
millions of our countrymen for whose wietfare 
we are labouring.^ We will set aside every 
worldly advantage, and all the money intrusted 
to us shall be devoted to the great cause, and 
none of it to our individual profit.'* No, thenr 
song sounds thus : " If we were all lawyers in 
good practice, how comfortably could we live ! 
and that we may not be too forcibly reminded 
of this, dp you secure us against the want of 
money.** with the disinterested Fabricius, with 
Cincinnatus labouring at the plough, with the 
barefooted caliph, With the apostles, and pro- 
phets, and the great patriots and philanthropists, 
whom posterity has so justly prized for keeping 
their souls and thoughts above the atmosphere 
of money — ^with all these noble and exalted 
heings, the O'Connells must not for a moment 
be placed on the Same line. In making these 
remarks, T do not mean to say O'Connell, in 
etery thing he does, is actuated by sordid mo- 
tives, or that all his zeal, eloquence, and patriot- 
ism spring from a thirst for pecuniary gain. To • 
say that, would be to designate him at once as a 
liar and hypocrite. There are mixed characters 
in the world, men who, with unafiTected zeal for 
a public cause, combine a sharp sense of what 
is to their own interest. His zeal fot his coun- 
try may originally have been entirely pure, apd 
hih hatred of the Tories wholl^jr unaffected ; the 
pecuniary advantages of agitation itiay have de- 



7ß 



IH^tANp. 



veloped themselves in the course of his career, 
and he oiay simply receive a henefit Which chance 
has thrown in his way. There are prophetic 
spirits who hold a midway place between angels 
and devils, and are not the less prophets, though 
the world may call them false prophets. Such 
men are extraordnary men still, and, even while 
they are serving Mmmon, maintain their souls 
in a youthful elasticiiy. and keep ^he flame of 
enthusiasm alive, n(^ allowing the one half of 
the character to corrupt the otlrer half Are 
there not men who devote themselves with en- 
thusiasm to a faith in which they do not believe! 
Had not Mahomet his inspirations, and will any 
one deny his enthusiasm for a religion which he 
was, nevertheless, cunning enough to make, on 
all occasions, subservient to his interest t 

In consideiing the character of O'Connell, 
moreover, we must consider the character of 
the age he lives in. Had he lived by the plough, 
like Cincinnatus, or clad himself in rags, like his 
poor countrymen, he might never have exer- 
cised his present influence. Modem heroes 
inust he well lodged, and dressed like gentlemen, 
and O'Connell's admirers may admire him all 
the more for the ability with which he extracts 
from them such large voluntary contributions, 
by the mere efl^ect of eloquence and zeal. In 
short, in judging him, we must consider him as 
aq extraordinary man, but as a man of the nine- 
teenth centnry — ^the money century. By means 
never before attempted, he has risen to power, 
influence, and wealth ; without any exercise of 
physical force, he has for more than thirty years 
braved the most powerful aristocracy in Europe, 
and all the time he has had none to support him 
but a few millions of paupers. 

THE WORKHOUSE. 

It bad long been the wish of the British gov- 
ernment to introduce the English system of 
poor-laws Into Ireland, and a few years ago this 
design was really carried into execotion. A 
poor-rate has been imposed upon all Ireland, and 
with the proceeds of this rate, and of some large 
parliamentary grants, workhouses have been 
. erected all over Ireland. The number to be 
erected is 150. Of these, 100 had been finished 
in the autumn of last year. When the remain- 
ing 50 are finished, and put into activity, it is in 
contemplation to pass a vagrancy act for the 
prevention of mendicancy. Hitherto it has been 
impossible to do this in Ireland, because there 
did not exist a suflScient number of charitable 
institutions supported by the state. I was even 
told that there existed till lately only six such 
institutions in all Ireland. There are, indeed, 
innumerable institutions of the kind supported 
by voluntary gifts, and in Dublin alone, including 
asylums, hospitals, charity-schools. 6lc., there 
are 50 such. Of all these establishments, in 
Dublin, only one, the House of Industry, was 
maintained by the state. It was the largest of 
all, for it afforded lodging and fof)d to no less 
than 2000 paupers, beggars, cripples, orphans, 
lunatics, &c. This was the only house of chari- 
ty that I was aWe to visit during my stay in 
Dublin. 
« Since the adoption of the English poor-laws, 
^ Iceland, like England, has been divided into 
a certain number of districts, called unions. 



J^very house in such a district is estimated at ». 
certain annual value, and the poor-rate imposed' 
upon each householder is a certain per centage 
on the supposed value. The tax thus raised is 
then applied to the maintenance of the work*- 
house. Dublin and its environs are divided inta 
two unions—the North Union and the South 
Union. The houses in the former are estimate^" 
at £394,000 a year, and in thq latter at £561,000. 
The poor-rate collected in the North Union 
somewhat exceeds £8000, and in the South» 
Union is somewhat 1ps$ than £12,000. 

For the North U«ion, the above mentioned' 
house of industry has been fitted up as a work- . 
house. There is a rate-book, in which all the 
rated houses are entered. I was surprised to 
find houses entered there at astonishingly low 
rents. Many were valued at 20«. (and some 
as low as 15«.) a year. The occupier of a 
house rated at 20«., had to pay a yearly tax . 
of 5d. Surely the tenant of such a dwelling, 
might pass for a poor man himself! A line 
ought to have been dyiwn that would have 
exempted such wretched huts from the impo- 
sition of a poor-tax. Some cabins in Ireland,, 
to be sure, would defy all estimate. What 
rate can be imposed on the miserable being 
who creeps for shelter behind a mud wall or 
under a shed pf tattered thatch- 

At the head of the poor-law system for Eng- 
land and Ireland are three poor-law commis- 
sioners, who reside in London. Under theq^- 
are assistant poor-law commissioners, who live 
in the country, ekch having under his care and 
inspection a district composed of several unions, 
respecting which he addresses periodical re- 
poi'ts to the cehtral commission. The reports . 
are printed, and so are the annual reports of 
the central commission. , The reports of the 
commissions of inquiry, appointed previously to 
the adoption of the present system, have also, 
been printed; and all ^hese reports together 
form a little library, which he who would know 
Great Britain properly ought not to leave un- 
studied They are full of excellent remarks, 
and of highly interesting evidence, respecting., 
the country, the ^ople, and their condition. 

The guiding pnnciple of the workhouse sys- 
tem, according to Mr. George Nichoils, is this, . 
that the maintenance ofl^ered at the public cost 
shall, on the whole, be less desirable than the 
condition of the man who maintains himself bj 
his own labour. To carry this principle into 
execution, he goes on to say, it might seem . 
necessary, at the first glance, that the inn^tes 
of a workhouse should be worse clothed, worse 
fed, and worse lodged, than the independent, 
labourers of the district. In point of fact, how- 
ever, those residing in a workhouse in England ' 
are much better off in this respect than the 
family of an agricultural labourer ; and yet the 
constrained labour, the discipline, the confine^ 
ment, and the exclusion of certain amusements 
within reach of the labourer who maintains^ 
himself, engender such an aversion to the 
workhouse, that experience warrants our say- 
ing, that no one, not wholly without means, or 
not really in urgent distress, will apply for 
admission to the workhouse, and that those 
whom distress has induced to enter there, will 
leave it as soon as they believe themselves in ' 
a condition to gain thehr own living. The re- 



IRBIiAND. 



73 



9iiltdf iiU this, Mr. NMioUs adds» will be, id- 
«reased exertion on t6e part of the labourer, to 
■aintaJn himself ia independence. 

To make the clothing, lodging, and food of 
the poor in a workhouse worse than those of 
^he majority of Irish peasants would be impos- 
sible, and were it. possible it ' would he wholly 
inezpedient. The Irish are by nature and habit 
a migratory people, and fond of change. An 
irishman would rather travel over the who7e 
world ih search of empl^oyment than submit to 
the discipline of a workhouse while in the 
poesession of health and vigour. Confinement 
to an Irishman is more intolerable even than 
to an Englishman; and, however better the 
aceommodatton ef a workhouse may be than 
what a mud cabin can afford, nothing but ex- 
^feme need will drive an Irishman into the 
fonuer, nor will he remain there one moment 
longer than the necessity continues. Under 
these chrcumstances the question may be raised 
whether the contrary principle might not be 
applied in Irish workhouses — namely, to make 
theeondition of the inmates better than that 
which they could procure for themselves. By 
such means the people might he induced to 
give up their wild wandering misery, which 
diey drag about the workl with them, and 
might be taught to submit themselves to the 
order and discipline of a workhouse, for the 
sake of enjoying a better, a more decent^ a 
more human existence. The object of a poor- 
house ought not to be merely to act as an aux- 
iliary for the enforcement of a vagrancy act. 
We ought to have views beyond the mere 
suppressitm of mendicancy, and to aim at the 
permanent improvement of the condition of 
those whom misfortune, ignorance, or preju- 
^dtce, may have reduced to destitution. It may 
be doubted whether any such object is kept in 
view in the organization of the Irish work- 
bouses, in which a system of terror may, in 
some measure, be said to prevail. As in the 
Englisfi bouses, so here, the discipline seems 
to ntö to be rude, severe, and unmitigated by 
kindness. The govemorsi as they are called, 
certainly did not appear to me in the light of 
** guardians,'' or "fathers*" to, the poor, as we 
are wont to designate in Germany those to 
whom functions somewhat similar are intrusted. 
These governors have always great power 
over the poor, and may even inflict severe 
punishments upon them. AH these arrange- 
ments are made with a view to the object 
proposed. The workhouses are not intended 
as places of retreat for the poor ; they are 
rather meant to be houses of correction, in 
which the poor shall be taught to value more 
highly their personal liberty, accustom them- 
selves to work, and learn to abstain from men- 
dicancy. 

The food and« clothing within an Irish work- 
house is certainly better than the pauper could 
enjoy out of it, for of course the inmates of 
auch a house are not allowed to go about half- 
' naked and half starved, the usual condition of 
the poor in Ireland. The food consists gene- 
rally of potatoes, oatmeal, and milk, particu- 
larly butter-milk. Bread is given only to the 
• children and the sick. The diet tables and 
olher regulations of public institutions are of 
interest to the inquiring traveller, for they ofWn 



afford biiB a oovrenienfc inaigM into the nan- 
ner of life. of a whole nation. Wiien, there- 
fore, I detail U^ my readers the fare of a pauper 
in an Irish workhouse, I give them a picture of 
the style of living of the great mass of the 
Irish people, of those at least among them who 
hove it in their power to eat their daily fill. 

As among most classes in Ireland and En^^ 
land, the day is divided into tliree acts or 
meals, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. By the 
last is not to be understood the noopday meaU 
but the chief meal of the day. The lunch is 
partieipated in only by the children and inva- 
lids. The healthy and full-grown are excfuded 
from it. The hours at which these meals are 
taken are later than with us in Germany. Nine 
o*clock is the hour for breakfast, and four i$k 
the afternoon for dinner. The breakfast, aa ii» 
most parts of Ireland, among those who have 
the means of decent maintenance, consists of 
new milk and atvrabout^ a kind of porridge of 
oatmeal ; the dinner is composed of potatoes 
and buttermilk. The children, for their iuaeh, 
receive bread and milk. On Sundays, holidays, 
and on every Thursday, a little brose, or soup,. 
is given, in addition to the customary diet. 
An adult receives seven ounces of oatmeal anA' 
half a pint of new milk for breakfast, and four 
pounds of potatoes and a pint of buttermilk for 
dinner. The board of an adult is calculated to^ 
cost one shilling and fourpence thre&4arthing« 
weekly. That of the children is more expen* 
sive, on account of the bread, and the mora 
liberal supply of milk. The most costly of ali 
is the board of the children under two ye^ft 
old, who cost one shilling and sixpence tbiee- 
farthings a week, for which they receive ona 
pint of new milk and a pound of bread daily^ 
There is therefore a potato diet for adults, m 
bread diet for children, a rice and meat diet for 
the sick, and lastly, a fever diet for the class 
of patients always moat numerous in an Irish 
workhouse. ^ 

The clothing of each pauper has been caleo^ 
lated at a halfpenny a day, or threepence- half- 
penny a week, so that the food and dothiae 
amount to somewhat under two shillings i^ 
week. With the eoet of the house, the salarie» 
of officers, and incidental expenses, the main-* 
tenance of each pauper may entail on the com- 
munity an outlay of three shillings weekly, or 
seven pounds sixteen shillings a year. The 
expenses have been on the dedine for the last^ 
few years, in consequence of the decline in tbe^ 
prices of provisions. In some workhouses,, 
also, the cost may differ from others, but these 
calculations I have given may be taken as a 
fair average. 

I was astonished by the appearance of the 
potato-kettle at this house. No less than 1670^ 
pounds of potatoes are boiled at once. Thia^ 
enormous quantity is all divided into portion»' 
of three and a half and four pounds, and eaoh^ 
portion is enclosed in a small net. All these 
nets are laid together in a large basket, and- 
this basket, with its nets and potatoes, is de- 
posited in the boiler. When the potatoes are 
supposed to have been sufficieotly boiled« the 
basket is wound up again by a machinery^ 
constructed for the purpose, and the poor am 
then marched up in military order, when eadk. 
receives hi« net fmd marcbea away, with it. 



^i 



UfBLJk'HIB. 



»ft m^ m%o^ Mmi^r to 4hto iMMise, ihe 
ObinieMhRtttoiaii'eftteiihUsiflg board, or nomeri- 
eal- f)^in«, had lilmfady been itlttwloceil, but 
only ii fiutfijght befiire my arrival. 
. Most of ihe people were employed pickm|[ 
oakum, the oceopation asaigned to the inmateB 
of mOst of the prisons and workhouses of Eng- 
land, who are thus made to prepare lint for the 
Won ads of the British men of war. This aiticle 
is indlspens^e in the dockyards, where it is 
used for calking ships. Hundreds of thousands 
<ff liafids ar6 daily oeeupied tn the workhouses, 
and houses bf correction, in untwining oM rope 
ends for this purpose. 

One of the most Interesting parts of' the 
Hestahiisbment is the old clothes store, in which 
the variegated rags that the paupers bring with 
them are carefully preserved, to be returned to 
them on their departare. A pauper, on enter- 
ing the house, receives in exchange for hfs 
motley drapery, the gay uniform of the house, 
wHh N.D.Ü.W.H. (North Dublin Union Wortt- 
lioifse) embroidered upon it in large letters. 
Hie übeity tags, together with hat, stockings, 
shoes, &c., are first carefally fumigated, and 
4hiBn, having been folded together, are marked 
^th the name of their owner, and deposited in 
tue old clothes store. The pauper may at any 
time have his dischaige, by simply intimating 
41 wiA to that eflfeet to the governor, but to 
«ilow him to take with him the clothes worn 
in the workhouse would never do, or many 
tiroold enter one day and go away again the 
«isxt, merely for the sake of a new suit of 
appaiel. Their old rags are thet-efore restored 
to them, and their ingenuity is again taxed to 
'dfseover the right entrance to their distorted 
sleeves. It happens almost every day that 
viimong the 2000 inmates of the house, one or 
•other, weary of discipline and confinement, and 
longing for his former liberty, gives the ifover- 
Aor Notice to ifttity and demands the restitution 
of his wardrobe. lUeo happened that, at the 
period of my visit, sueh an application had just 
heen made, and the clothes «tore was, in con- 
«M)dence opea. All the theatres in Europe 
•«oiild not have matted, in pomt of variety, 
-tile wardrobe here displayed to me. It meet 
•«Ost the poor a painful struggle when they 
vraver between the servile N D.U.W.H. cos* 
tame, and th» ragged sansculotte drapery of 
freedom. Most of them prefer the latter« with 
4ill the privations that accompany it. The lib- 
^«riy, even of a beggar, has something sweet 
«bout it, and the free, wild, nomadic life of t)ie 
Irish mendicant, has become as much a thing 
•Of habit to him, as the hunting, tiding, pastoral 
life has to the wandering tribes of Russia. 

If a man remajns twelve months in the 
lioose, conducts himself well, and holds ootthe 
jiope that he will in future maintain himself by 
his own exertions, a suit of clothes is given 
bim, to help him forward on the new and 
thorny path of life on which he is about to 
enter. 

Dublin is, or at least was, not long ago, the 
main place of rendezvous ibr all the beggars of 
Ireland. The great wealth and population of 
the town, according to Mr. Nicholls^s report. 
||idd out to beggars the hope of a richer harvest 
«t DuhUn than in any other part of the country. 
S^hia^hatvost 48 iwsreBwd 1^ the gift of aeei* 



dentat vieitai»^ who «se. drftWa to IkMn-k^ 
bushnasa and pleasui«!, aad who are eften mn» 
accessible to the aneodieant thaa axe the «eg»* 
lar reeidents. The many charitiea in Dublin 
act also as a great attraction to i>cggara ; and 
it oiten happens that Irish labourers, when tbej 
go to England in search of work, leave tte 
wbcrie or part of their families at Dubtin« te 
subsist by beggary till their reium. The Irish 
paupers, too, passed from English parishf«, are 
generally landed, ia the first instance, in Dub- 
h'n, where they often aocomulate rapidly- Aiid 
thns, Mr. Nicholls erniclodes, *'flumerow 
streems of vagrancy concentrate in this city m 
in a reservoir." . 

When these cireumrtaeces are coraadered, 
and Uie fact that •for a long time there existed 
in Ireland no public institutions for the relief 
fyf the poor, except in the large towns, and that 
Dublin was the only place where the destttota 
and starting pauper eonid be ootein of relief 
that therefore Dnblin could not fail to he the 
point towatds which all the want and misery 
of the country would tend to flow ; when aU 
these Ihcts are considered, I say, it is no Wen- 
der there shoold be so many beg^rs in DubUn ; 
the wonder isthat their number should not he 
much greater. The foarful pietntie painted hjy 
former travellers of the condition of the Dublin 
poor has, however, already ceased to be appli- 
cable. The horrible yet customary salotatini 
of the Dublin beggar-r-" Sir, I am very hungry*' 
---I beard much less frequently than I had 
expected. The new workhouses have, preba* 
bly, already begun to exercise a benefioiei 
influence; but whether it will be posMbie te 
carry ont the enactments of the expected Va- 
grancy Act, is a question to which ttne only 
will enable us to retom a reply. With IfiO 
workhouses in the country, eadi capable of 
accommodating dOO paupers, provision wiU 
only have been Otade for 7A,000 destitule per* 
sons. Before, therefore, the state oan [pt)li|ibit 
mendicancy, it most have been aseertamOd 
that Ireland does not contain more than 7M<KI 
individuals unable to maintain themseivea by 
their own labour. ' We do not, however, to* 
quire any ofiietal return to ass vre ns that: ihe^ 
real nuniber of destitute poor is veiy far beyond! 
75,000, and the then question is— what ri^ 
the state can have tn prohibit begging, to tfaoee 
to whom it has not the shelter of a roof to oflbr« 

MUSEUMS OF DUBLIN. 

The museums and literary soeieties of Dub- 
lin are not a little indebted to Germany. The 
foundation of the Mnsenni of the Royal DobÜn 
Society Was laid by the purchase of rhe LeSkean 
Museum, the property of Professor Leske : at a 
later period the collections of Gieseke, a mine- 
ralogist of Gdttingen, ,were added to the mu- 
seum ; the library of Baron Fagel, a Dtfteh* 
man, was ' incorporated with the library of the 
university ; the anatomical models in wax «f 
Professor 'Rau, a €rerman residing at Ptfri% 
were bought by I^ord Shelburne for the oniver-^ 
sity ; and Profrssor f^inn^gel—- bere called voft 
Feinagle— originated a society, by which, under 
his direction, was established ati acfademy te 
children Of the upper classes, the «ül/ «#» 
taMishiiietat of tiie kind ia ItelamL 



Ill ELAND. 



•Ä^ 



^€9 stianfiNn» the nott inteiealmi^ cotlec- 
'tioiM are t^osa of tlie Üniversitj, or Trinity 
'CoUf^ ; of the Hotyal Dublin Society, and of 
the Royal Irisii Ae^emy. Next to the Ger- 
mans, the bogs of treiand have oontributed 
most to the enriobing of the two last of these 
iostitat.ions. These bogs are the very best pre- 
servers of antiquities that any country can 
wish fur, and almost every information that 
Ireland desires fo have respecting iier ancient 
^soaditien, she' must be content to look fur at 
the bottom of her marshes. Not only the 
beads of gold and amber, worn^in remote anti- 
^ty by the ladies of Ireland'; not only the 
bodies of men, but their very clothes, and the 
butter that they eat, and samples of the weed 
which they smoked, before they made the 
aequaiotanoe of tobacop ; even the bodies of 
exttoet raceaof animals— 4ill have been covered 
hy the turf^bogs with a preservative matter, 
which, among Uie relics of a remote antk|uity, 
has even kept unchanged the furrows drawn> 
by the plough centuries and centuries ago. 

All these collections of Irish antiquities, the 
>care taken to preserve them, and the studious 
examination of them, are of very recent date. 
The xeal that at present prevails for draining 
the bogs lead» daily to the- discovery of new 
specaneos of antiquity, and much will no doubt 
^soDtioue to be found, and will contribute to 
make these coHections yet more interesting 
than they are. Among the objects hitherto 
^obtained from the bogs, are, in the first place, 
complete human bodies, of which a specimen 
is to be seen at Dublin, with the skin dried anid 
tanned brown indeed, but with all the features 
diatinctly to be traced. From the costume in 
which this man was found arrayed, it is con- 
«Ittded that be must have lain at least ÖOOjrears 
in the bog in Galway, where he was discovered. 
iFor the' preservation of animal matter, the 
ilrish bogs, »it would appear« might compare 
with t^e great icy masses of Sib^ia ; but the 
latter, it must be allowed, possess yet greater 
powersy since they preserve, not only the bones 
and skin, but the Aesh also. 

Different parts of the buffalo, that formerly 
«xisted in Ireland, have also been discovered. 
According to a treatise published in the Pro- 
-ceedi^gs of the Irish Academy, this Irish buf« 
£ilo dilfers from all the oMsemena fossiUs des- 
cribed by Cuvier, and i» remarkable on account 
of the great convexity of the forehead, the 
length of the body, and the shortness of the 
borns, which are bent downward. 

Of all, the fossil deer of Ireland most deserves 
our admiration and attention, on account of its 
«lormous size and peculiar construction. Of 
this animal so many specimens have been 
found in alt parts of Ireland, that there are few 
peasants in the country who are nolacquainted, 
either by hearsay or as eyewitnesses, with the 
borns of the old deer, as they are called. Nay, 
in some parts of the country, these horns have 
been found in such quantities, that they are 
thrown aside, as undeaerving of any conside- 
ration, or are applied to agricultural purposes. 
Some of these enormous antlers, for instancPi 
bave been ussd as gates for fields, and others 
for bridges over stnall brooks. In the same 
way, in Siberia, the bones of th& mammoth are 
iiMind in such quantities, that they have become 



an artide of trade, and ate boiight and tetd'lib 
he applied to agricultural pOrpoees. In the fi^l» 
of Mao also, the fossil deer has been found, ätA 
in several museufns of England, have, cit lato 
years, been placed specimens complete in alt 
their smallest anatomic^ details. The name 
given to them is Cervus Megacerus. 

In the construction of its horns, the fossH 
deer hears some reseridblance to the cUk, bod 
they are much largelr than those of the latter, 
whereas the animal itself is much smaller. The 
finest specimen is to be aeen in the museum of 
the Royal Dublin Society. The principal di- 
mensions, according to a^ small pamphlet, pid>- 
lisbed by a member of the Irish Academy, are 
the following : 

Ij«ngth of body ..... 1 foot 8| Inobei. 
Length of lower jaw . . . 1 " 5| * 

Pietnnce between «he extreme pOftit« 
of the 8nüen,oieM«red over ih« skull 11 ** 10 ** 
The same me tsured in a straight Une 9 " 2 ** 
Length of each antler . . . . 5 " 9 ** 
Circumference of the anaerBtthehase 1 " 0| ** 
Leivthofb^ickböae . . 10 " 10 "^ 

Height of animars back . . 6 '* 6 '* 

Breadth of the antler . . . . 2 " 10 •* 

It may easily be imagined what a magnificent 
animal these relative dimensions must have 
formed. Antlers each as long as a tolerably- 
tall man, and as broad as a moderate-sizeiL 
table. An animal, at the same time, standing 
higher than the largest ox, and yet as lightly 
and beautifully built as the slenderest stag. 
This one object so far surpasses all the other 
specimens of natural history in the cpllectioa 
of the Dublin Society, that one's whole atten- 
tion is engrossed by it. If is unquestionably 
the finest animal of its kind that has yet been 
placed in any museum in Dublin, and is, per- 
haps, next to the great fossil mammoth in St. 
Petersburg, the finest fossil specimen that has 
ever been exposed to the gaze of the curious. 
' In Yorkshire also, on the coast of Essex, in 
the forest of Bondi, near Paris, in several parts 
of Germany, and, according to Cuvier, in the 
neighbourhood of the Po, parts of the Cervus 
Megacerus have at times been found. In Ed- 
inburgh, at Cambridge, and in two or three 
other English museums, specimens of the ani- 
mal, nearly complete, have been set up. AH 
theise, however, are far surpassed by the Dub- 
lin specimen in beauty, size, and completeness. 

We may reckon it ad another of the peculiar- 
ities of Ireland, that this fossil animal should 
be found there so much more abundantly thaii 
in any other part of Europe. How many ques- 
tions are raised by this single facti It oflen 
seems as if Ireland must have formed a world 
of itself. One might be tempted to believe it a 
remnant of the great continent Atlantis, which 
may be supposed not to have ^rticipated m 
every respect with Europe, but, in soine meas- 
ure, to have formed a distinct portion of che 
globe. 

Many amber ornaments have been found in 
the bogs. This would imply either that amber 
had at one time been found in Ireland, or that 
the Phoßnicians, or some other maritime people, 
must have brought it thither as an article of 
trade. 

A necklace of shells has also been found, of 
so rude a workmanship that it looks as if it haA 
been taken from the neck of some queen of the 
South Sea islands. Such an ornament can 



76 



IRELAND. 



,qnlj b^ye been worn ^l very remote ages of 
Suropean barbarism. Of g<»lden ornaments, 
rings, rows of beads« and some curious little in- 
struments, the use and purport of which it is 
^ot easy to determine, considerable quantities 
liave been found. The golden beads, made of 
a thin plate of metal, are astonishingly large. 
If these are of Irish workmanship, and of a pe- 
riod prior to the introduction of Christianity, as 
is generally supposed, on account of the ab- 
sence of all religious emblems and decorations, 
it follows that the old pagan Irish were very 
nearly as good gtddsmiths as those of the Greek 
colpnists, and of the Bosphorian kings of Tauria 
on the Black Sea, of whose relics many have 
of late years been found and deposited in the- 
museums of St. Petersburg. According to the 
poet Moore, gold-mines are believed to have 
been discovered by Tighernmas, an ancient king 
of Ireland, who reigned SOO years before the 
Christian era. In one bog in the county of 
Tipperary, so many golden articles have been 
found at different times, that it bears the name 
of .the golden bog ; and tradition says, that in 
that place the workshop of a goldsmitfi was one 
day overwhelmed by the sudden irruption of 
the marshy bog. 

Among these golden articles is a semicircular 
half-ring with a kind of flat stamp at each end, 
and large enough to be conveniently handled in 
the centre. The Dublin scholars suppose it to 
have been a kind of talisman made use of on 
the conclusion of treaties of peace. There ex- 
ist, hovrever, many similar half-closed rings, 
some of copper and some of silver, which are 
supposed to have been current as coin. A 
most remarkable fact is, that an article nearly 
similar is at present made in Birmingham, of 
iron, with the view of being employed among 
the Ashantees and other negro nations, for the 
purchase of commodities. These African 'ring- 
coins bear so strong a resemblance in fbrm to 
the ancient Irish half-ring that I have endeav- 
oured to describe, that some of the African 
coins manufactured at Birmingham have been 
placed by its side. It appears a strange form 
into which to fashion money, and yet, in coun- 
tries so remote from each other, the Inhabitants 
would seem to have hit upon the same idea. 
In studying the history of nature and of man, it 
is impossible for us to extend our inquiries over 
too great a surface. Perhaps the PhoBuicians 
traded on the African coast with the nations re- 
ferred to, at the same time as with the Irish. 
If so, the Phoenicians may have conveyed the 
idea of so strange a coinage from the Africans 
to the Irish, or from the Irish to the Africans. 
The Phoenicians may have done then what the 
English do now at Birmingham. Do we not 
find the round towers of Ireland again in Per- 
sia t and even in China monuments have been 
discovered precisely similar to the cairns and 
cromlechs of Ireland. Not long ago, a report 
oti some similar Cyclopean monuments discov- 
ered near Bombay, was inserted in the pra 
ceedings of the Royal Irish Academy. 

Con^sidering the immense number of buildings 
and monuments ascribed to the Eastmen and 
Northmen (the Danes), the number of articles 
of bronze discovered in. the country is remarka- 
bly small. There are incomparably fewer in 
the museums of Dublin, than m those of Copen- 



hagen in Livonia. There are indeed a few 
swords of bronze, snnffar to those at Copenha- 
gen, a large quantity of Celts, aiid a few bronse 
battle-axes. The most remarkable of these Hg- 
ures are the little hnmte pigs, which are Anind in 
great numbers. The form of the animal is gen- 
erally well imitated. Perhaps the hog may hare 
been a sacred animal among the Pagan Irish, as 
were several sorts of beetles among the Egyp- 
tians. As this thought crossed my mind, f re- 
called to my memory the ancient legend that 
the old necromancers, the Tüatha-de Danaans,. 
on the arrival of a lar^e number of colonists 
from Spain, converted the whole island into the 
form of a hog. Even to the present day, the 
hog is the most important animal in the island, 
and the one most respected by the sons of Erin ; 
they exist upon the blood and fat of the hog, as 
the Egyptians on the water of the Nile ; and^. 
were the subjects of her Most Gracious Majesty 
in Ireland not good Christians, who knows 
whether they would not worship Apis dnder the 
form of a good fat pig. as the Egyptians did 
under the form of an ox ! 

Some distaffs have been found of a singularly 
primitive construction, namely, a round stone 
with a hole, through which a shafl was passed. 
On this shaft the thread was wound, and the 
heavy stone served to put the simple machinery 
in movement. It was reservwl for the Irish of 
modern times to invent a distaff yet more sim- 
ple, a large potato being made to supply the 
place of the stone, the preparation of which 
would require a greater expenditure of labour 
and ingenuity than they are willing to bestow 
on it. This invention must be one of modem 
date, for the ancient Irish had no knowledge of 
the valuable root which Drake transplanted front 
America. 

Considerable quantities are found of a snh- 
stance of which I have already made mention^ 
under the name of bog-butter. In pieces of 
eight or ten pounds, this substance is often 
found. The largest piece is said to have weigh- 
ed seventeisn pounds. Bog cheese has also 
been found preserved in the bogs, and put tip 
into forms entirely difiTerent fVom any known at 
the present day. 

Iron, I was told, was generally wholly de- 
stroyed in the tnrf-bogs. The only instances In 
which iron has been preserved, has been when 
it has been imbedded in greasy animal substan* 
ces. Many have also assured me that the limy 
portions of animals, including their bones, decay 
soon, and that the skin and fat only remain. 
Even in the specimen of a bog-man, of which I 
have made mention, it was said that all the in- 
ternal bones had been destroyed by the humidi^ 
ty that had found its way into the body. If this 
be so, the assurance given me by many, and 
which is repeated in a scientific treatise, of 
which I have made mention, that the bones of 
the fossil elk are frequently dug out of the bogsj 
must he understood to apply, not to the bogs 
themselves, but to the strata of marl which lie- 
under the bogs. 

Many manuscripts, crosiers, and other arti> 
des belonging to the period of Christianity are 
likewise found, and the peculiar fashion of their 
ornaments shows that the arts in Ireland had, 
even then, a character peculiar to the countiy« 
All the ideas of the painters, transeribets, and. 



IRELAND. 



37 



workers in metal, appear to have been entirely 
different from tbuse'^of which we discover traces 
in other countries. 

' S(»me highly interesting specimens of Irish 
antiquity are also found in the collections of 
Trinily College« the University ivf Dublin, found- 
ed by Queen Elizabeth. Among other articles 
to be seen there is an old harp, beauttiiiUy work- 
ed, said to have belonged to the Irish king 
O'Neil. Here, then, is palpable to our feeling 
as to sight, one of those musical instruments 
that have to us an almost fabulous air, when 
seen in paintings representing the gathering of 
the Ossianic heroes. 

All the buildings of Trinity College are large, 
bandsome« and convenient, and everything is 
kept in the best condition. The hall «of the li- 
brary is the room most admired, and is said to 
be the largest of its kind in the British empire. 
In 184S the books amounted to 96,100 volumes. 
Of all the books I saw there, none interested 
me more than the- new map of Ireland, which, 
as for as it is completed, is really a colossal un- 
dertaking, and certainly the most magnificent 
and best thing of the kind ever executed under 
the direction of the British government. The 
same engineers und^r whose auspices the last 
iaigia rnap of England was executed, ace also 
eiigaged upon the jnap of Ireland ; ai«J as th«y 
have now the full advantage of all the experi- 
ence which th^y-, gathered in. England, it is 
thought that their survey of Ireland will be even 
more perfect than that of England, and that the 
geography of Ireland, hitherto in a more unsat- 
isfactory condition than that of any other Euro- 
pean country, will now, ail at once, possess the 
most accurate and detailed maps in the world. 
It is difficult to bdieve, and yet I have been as- 
sured it is perfectly true, that ail the maps of Ire- 
land published in the last century, were based 
uppn an old map of Sir William Petty*s, drawn 
up in the seventeenth century. Of course, none 
of these maps were at all to be relied on, and 
this at a time when the British government had 
caused astronomical and trigonometrical surveys 
to be made in remote countries. Parts of Rus- 
sia had already been surveyed and measured, 
long before a general trigonometrical survey of 
Ireland seems to have been thought of. At the 
end of the last century a map of Ireland was 
^rawn op by a elier>prman of the name of Beau- 
fort ; and this map, thoogh the author had very 
unsatisfactory data to proceed on, eontinued for 
a long time to be looked on as the most accurate 
that existed. 

Beaufort's map was on the scale of six otiles 
to an inch ; that undertaken at the expense of 
the state, is on a scale of six inches to a mile. 
This is as much as to say that the government 
map is a thousand times as large as the most 
accurate and most detailed map that Ireland 
possessed forty years ago. For twelve years 
sixty persons have been employed on the 
work. Each of the thirty-two counties of the 
kingdom is drawn, on an average, on fifty or six- 
ty large sheets. According to £eir extent, some 
counties have a greater an^ some a smaller 
number of sheets. Twenty-seven counties are 
already complete ; and when the whole is fin- 
ishtsd, the map will consist of 1500 sheets, and 
will constitute the most magnificent geograph 
ical work possessed by any country. 



The attelier for this map is in Phoenix Park, 
near Dublin. ^Vhat surprised me most was 
the low stage of eduoaation and intelligence of 
some of the individuals employed on the work. 
In similar undertakings with us in Germany, 
all the assistants would be taken from the ed^ 
ucated classes. I might instance the great 
map of Saxony, which has been in hand aft 
Dresden for several years. Here, on the oon- 
trary, those engaged in a subordinate capacity 
are mere common workmen who can under- 
stand but little of the nature of the work on 
which they are employed. Their deficiencies, 
in this respect, I have no doubt, are amply 
compensated by the 8ci<$ntific attainments of 
those by whom they are superintended. The 
work may not the less be a distinguished and 
complete one when finished, though the inferior 
workmen may not comprehend any part of it 
beyond what passes immediately through their 
hands. 

What most interests a stranger in an Eng* 
lish library are the splendid and colossal works« 
which English perseverance, English art, and 
English money, have brought to maturity, aodi 
which We have seldom an opportunity of see« 
in any of our continental libraries. Among» 
the colossal works of this kind that I had an 
opportunity of seeing at Trinity College, waa 
one on Mexican Antiquities, the publication of 
which is said to have cost the author, Lord 
Kingsborough, more than £30,000. A work 
almost as complete as nature herself, is Lam- 
berths description and pictorial representationa- 
of the €renus Pinus. This Lambert devoted 
his taieots, his life, and his fortune, to the 
completion of this splendid work. It is charao» 
teristic of England to produce men who pov'« 
sees all these qualifications in a high degree,' 
and are willing to devote them to the exeoution 
of one work, or the attainment of one end. - In' 
Germany we never concentrate our means open 
one point. Lambert kept a number of exc^ 
lent artists in his employment, and made them 
repeat their work till he was quite satisted*' 
with what they produced. Never were pine- 
trees glorified by the hand of man as they have 
been in Lambert's work, which, however, with 
all its splendour, remains incomplete as com- 
pared with nature. There are said to exist' 
very few copies of this rare and magnificent 
work. 

The great work of Cough, (^ Seputo! rat 
Monuments of Great Britaiui'*) and that by 
Durale, ("Monasticon Angiicanum,") which 
contains views and a detailed history of all 
the churches and abbeys of England, occu- 
pied my attention for some time. It is aston- 
ishing with what elaborate care England has 
been illustrated and described by its authors 
and artists. Every department appears to be 
subdivided into innumerable suboniinate branch- 
es, and for each branch there exist« generally 
some standard work, which passes for a clas- 
sical and recognised authority 

Trinity College is decidedly the largest build- 
ing in Dublin, and the largest college in the 
United Kingdom. To give some idea of what 
has been done for this establishment, I will men- 
tion a few of the pe(;uuiary donations it has 
received from private individuals and from the 
nation. In 1768 the prorost, Dr. Baldwin, left 



78 



IRELAND. 



XdO,000 to the college. Parliament voted 
£40,000 Tor the erectioii of a sqaare, with 
•partnients for fellows and students, and the 
square was n(»t tnappnipriately named Parlia- 
n>ent Square. In 1787 parliament voted £12.000 
liir the erection of a chapel, the cost of which, 
however, far exceeded that sum. Considering 
the sums that this college has had the distrihu- 
fi4iB of, it ought tu take a more protiiinent posl- 
ti«»n' than it does. The English universities 
%re apt to speaic of Trinity College as their 
Silent Sister. 

Men of a European reputation are not want- 
ing, who received their education at Trinity 
College. Among others are named Young. 
ChihUmith, Swift, Hamilton, Congreve, Durke. 
XkNiwell, Qrattan, Coulter, &c. The English 
generally complete their education at one and 
the same college, and each college is constantly 
engaged in counting np the eminent men who 
^ve received ^eir education witlhin its walls, 
end in institating comparisons between itself 
and. other coHeges. In our German universi* 
ties, of which every student generally visits 
Several, this ^aa never be the case. The Ger 
iMB universities prkie themselves apoa the ce- 
lehrtty of their teachers, the English upon the 
«friehrity of their pupils. 

Trinity OeHege Ch^iel is a veiy elegant haild- 
iag, though far inferior to the college chapels 
of Oilord, I noticed here an amusing instance 
of the manner in which the gradations of 
imk are marked in an English university, and 
of the strictness with which the distkietions 
era enioned. The prayer-books in this chapel 
4ifli9red - in form, size, and binding, according 
to. the academical rank of those who were to 
nee them. Thos the prayer-book of the pro- 
vest, was an elegantly bound folio, with gilt 
edfeji, and the leather on the sides enriched 
With a profosion of gilt stars. The vioe-pro- 
iFe$t had no stars to his book, and the scAiior 
Mowsiiof whom there are seven, had no gäd* 
ing at all. The junior fellows, eighteen in 
muBber» had to content thems^ves with quarto 
iHhimes, and the scholars and' students were 
ledaeed to octaves. The scholars, of whom 
there are seventy, form, with the fellows, the 
body, of the uotversity, and elect the two mem 
hcMta by whom the university is represented in 
paiiwment. The stodieBts are divided into 
three chisses : feUow-commoners, who dine at 
the college table, and pay the most for their 
edMcaliion ; pensioners, who pay less ; and si- 
zars, who pay nothing. 

As with the college prayer-bodcs, so with 
tM pleas«re-groonds attached to the college, 
marked distinctions are kept up with regard to 
tho different, ranks. The stodents^ have their 
park, and tho feUows theirs ; to the latter, how- 
efor» the masters and feUow-commoners have 
access. Aifter duly inspecting au these mat- 
terii, I oassed out again through a small door in 
^th» garden wall. This door is called the Doc- 
tors* gate, because none but doctors are author- 
ized to have a key. By courtesy, however, 
this valuable privilege is also enjoyed by the 
»wwterp. 

THE SQUARES OP DUBLIN. 
DnUintscdehratedio England for its squares. 



Merrion Square is said to be the handsomest ,- 
and Stephen's iGrreen the largest in the kingdom. 
On passing out of the little Doctors* gate, I 
found I had not far to g6 to visit both squares. 

Merrion Square is a handsome green paral- 
lelogram, with magnificent lawns, and sur- 
rounded by the handsomest private buildings in 
I he town. The latter presented a somewhat 
melancholy spectacle to me as I was strolling 
along the walks of tjie garden. The majority 
of the houses had their windows closed, a sign 
that their owners were absent. I counted tea 
attjoiniog buildings that were veiled in this 
manner. During the summer, and a great part 
of the winter, the nobility and gentry of tho 
country must not he sought for in Dublin ; and 
their absence at that period is not atoned for, 
as in London, by a season all the brisker in the- 
spring. 

Dublin has naturally soflhred most by the 
union of Ireland with England. To the end of 
the last century, when Ireland still bad her own 
parliament, Dublin was the customary residence - 
of two hundred and seventy-one spiritual and 
temporal peers, and of three hundred members 
of the boose of commons. In 1880 only thii^- 
ty-four peers, thirteen baronets, and five mem- 
bers of the house of commons, resided in Dub- 
lin. It was calculated, as early as 1783« that- 
not less than two millions sterling were anna- 
ally carried away frotn Ireland, to be expended 
out of the country. Since then, it may safely 
be assumed that this sum ha» at least doubled, 
frelaod is not like many other count ries^indeu- 
niiied, in some measure, by the visits of stran- 
gers, and it may therefore be easily hnagined^ 
how acutely the eflSicts of this absenteeism are-- 
felt hy the trading classes of the metropolis. 
Ireland is probably the country in all Europe» 
whence the greatest numher of wealthy indi- 
viduals permanently absent themselves, mid to 
which the smallest number of wealthy strangers 
r%9ort. 

As in London there are more elegant clubs 
than elegant coflee-houses, so in Dublin there 
are more squares than publie gardens. The 
wealthy and privileged classes have reserved' 
to themselves the exclusive enjoyment of th^ 
square gardens. In general it is only the in- 
hahitants of the square, and a -few privileged 
subscribers, who are admitted into the garden, 
forihe garden is surrounded by a high htm 
railing, and thp gates are aiwajf« kept locked, 
each subscriber having a key. It would even 
seem that the eon/reru of a square is able to 
obtain peculiar legislative privileges, for it is 
nothbg uncommon to see a board pot op an- 
nouncing that any person venturing to imitate 
a square key, is liable to a penalty of five 
pounds. 

Merrion Square, together with all the houses 
that surround it, belong to a lord, whose name 
I have folgten. The occupiers of these 
houses pay to this lord a higher rent, in con- 
sideration of his not building upon the central: 
piece of ground. It is to be hoped, however, 
the city has some better security against his 
lordshif^'^ building oyer the garden in question. 
The lawns of Merrion Square, like those of most 
English squares, are always admirably neat, 
and though the garden contains only twelve 
acres, the gardener, who has his cottage in » 



iri;land. 



» 



forner of it, has enoagh to do with his two as- 
sistai^i^ to ke«p the grass and the paths id the 
wished-for order. Some handsome clumps of 
trees are distribnted over the garden, and ini- 
lifiediately inside of the iron. railing runs a thick 
shrubbeiV, in order that those who walk in the 
garden nray enjoy the greater privacy. 

In my opinion, ihe enjoyment of these min- 
iature parks is a very insipid one, consisting 
«f nothing else than walking formally up and 
Ä«wn the place, to breathe a little fresh air. 
Some nursery maids and a few young children 
are generally the only occupants of the garden. 
In Germany we should probably authorize the 
gardener to establish a little dairy for the sale 
of milk and cakes and then, perhaps, a much 
larger number of the oceupiers of the houses 
would eome out in a morning to enjoy their 
coffee and other refreshments, in the open air. 

Nothing of this kind is to be seerl here, and 
tiieee beautiful spots which mig;ht in so many 
waya be made to contribute to the use and en- 
joyirient of the public are generally all but 
empiy. In spring, sometimeg a band of musie 
plays ^ in the square, and then all the inhab- 
iunt9 and subsctibc^rs with their families and 
iHetids assemble in Merrton Square, as the gar- 
4<uief assured 'line, to the number of 'thi«e or 
faiar thousand. The pubHc, even on these high 
IbstivalS) is excluded, policemen beinff placed 
«t the gates to prevent the entranee^of the un- 
^vileged. '• And it's very necessary,»» said 
tfie gardener : *' for if we did not do so, the 
BMktiy ruffians that we have in the town would 
destroy every thing." 

Stephen's Green, ihe other square, ia nearljr 
an Bnglish mile in circumference. It ' is the 
property of the eity €i( Dublin, but has beeD 
»eeitred to the inhabitants as a ike farm by act 
of parltameut. They pay to the oity £800 a 
ycttr, and here we have another example of the 
^ari<!^ty of relations in which th« inhabitants of 
Eftgllah towns stand to their squares. In the 
^ntre of the handsome ground stands an 
iqiiestrtan statue of George II. Another mon- 
ument was offered to the inhabitants of the 
two squares, hut was declined by them, on the 

S' onnd «>f the bad taste of the design. It was 
consequence erected in Phoenix Park, where 
it' is km^wn as the Wellington Testimonial. 
Of this park, the Irish likewise' maintain, that 
110 public town park in the United Kii^gdom is 
equal to it in beauty. For my own part, how* 
eVer, I most own that I am at a loss to guess 
wtkat it is that the lirsh lind Aiult with in the 
inagnificent parks of txmd<in, surrounded by 
bitiMings so rou^th superior in magnificence. 
The access to Phc&nix Park is detestable, the 
Buildings about it, not excepting the lodge of 
th^ lord' fieute>nant, are ail very insignificaut, 
an6 tkie lawns are certainly less oarefiilly at- 
tended to than in the London parks. Phdsnix 
Park, tnoreover, lies connpletely outside of Dub- 
lin, and having thus birought my reader into 
freef air again, I will not take him back to the 
clo8<^ and smoky streets of the metropolis, 
tnuch as we might istill find to interest as there ; 
at Nist, I will not take him farther back than 
is recessary to enable us to mount the car, by 
the aid of which we are to roll away to the 
north of Ireland. 



FROM DUBLIN TO DROGHEDA. 

With us, in Oermaiiy, we sometimes tak^ 
the liberty of asking a stranger what his nam» 
is. In England, in a similar' situation, it is 
better to ask a man how he spells his name, or 
the interrogator may chance to receive only a 
few half-articuIated, and, to a foreigner, ut- 
terly unintelligible sounds in reply. Such a 
question I addressed to a man who, having 
thrown his baggage into the well, placed him- 
self by the sid« of me on the car. He rattleA 
out a series of letters, but I fourfd immediately 
that my ear was not sufl^crentjy familiarized 
with English spelling, and I was little wiser oa- 
the subject thaii I had been before. I made 
out only that his Christian name was Johfi, ^n^ 
that his surname ended jn )7«n, whence, jnd^^, 
ingby an old adage I had heard in £nglan(i»lÜ 
concluded that my fellow traveller was prqib^r 
biy a Cornish man. He was a thorough trader, 
and bad no taste for atiy thing out of the com- 
mercial line. When I told him t had lately 
been in Saxony, *' Ah, that^s a Ane wool co^n- 
try, was his immediate reply. When.l iM 
him I was sorry the bad weather would, allow 
us to see But little of the fine country we were* 
about to pass through, his answer was ^hat he 
would care little for the bad Weather, if bu^i- 
ne^s would but improve a little. ** NeVerttie-, 
less," 1 resumed, **it would be some consola- 
tion to me to enter on a better cultiyatedijait 
of Ireland, and to find the cjulti vat ion oif the land»- 
and the intelligence of the people, improviun^. 
more and more as I advance«^.*» This imme- 
diately callejd from him the remark that the line» 
manufacture and iiax dressing süao improved 
and grew finer the farttter we advanced north- 
ward. In Drogheda they were inferior to If ew- 
ry, and farther north were many places tha^ 
surpassed JJevirry. 

All thi^ couyersation passed while we vrere 
endeavouring to make ourselves as comfortable 
as we could. *At last the moment of departure 
arrived. The crowd of poor cripples and beg- 
gars, unnecessary assistants, and hawkers of 
newspapers and picture books, cleared away 
from about us, and our car, with its sixteen out- « 
side passengers, rolled along with its mountain, 
of luggage, through the suburbs of Dublin, where' 
I again noticed the great number of houses that' 
were covered with ivy, much as I had seen it oi^ 
the walla of all the ruins of Ireland. Eriri may. 
be called the land of Ivy, and DubUn. the ^vied. 
city. 

Amid a downpour of hail, rain, and snow, a^ 
kind of weather which the English call sleety 
and which is of very frequent occurrence in 
Ireland, we drove past the ruins of the cathe- 
dral of Swords. Close to these staud^ a round 
tower, nearly perfect, and many magnificent, 
old trees. The name of Swords has an English« 
sound, but.it reminds one of the old Irish bat-' 
ties fought under the famed monardi Briaik 
Boru. 

A little farther on we passed another ruin, 
the old castle of Balruddery* But. Immediately 
beyond Balruddery, at Balbriggan, my eyes 
rested on a spectacle quite new to me in Ire- 
land — namely, a large manufactory. Balbrig- 
gan was the first place in Ireland in which I 
beheld a large cotton-mUT, and Balbriggan stock- 



BO 



IRELAND. 



ings, I found, enjoyed a repntatlon even in 
JSogland. Here, then, the north-eastero mana- 
facturing district of Ireland may be said to 
commence. Ruins cease to be objects of chief 
interest, and splendid piles of them, such as 
those of Kilkenny, Glendalough, and Cashel, 
^re no longer heard of 

We held a short siesta at Balbriggan, where 
we changed horses, and on reascending our car, 
"were immediately surrounded by the customary 
«warm of wretched- looking creatures, praying 
us, for Heaven's sake, to give them a halfpenny. 
** There's still time, good gentlemen ! the car 
% be off directly," they exclaimed in chorus, as 
the driver raised his whip. ** There's still time, 
your honours ! Oh, sure, your honours won't 
drive away without leaving a trifle for us and 
^Nir poor families! I don't beg for my own 
sake, but for my poor dying children ! Oh ! 
Oh ! there the car goes, and not a halfpenny 
your honours leave for us !" 

Night had, meanwhile, come on. This is 
anything but agreeable on an Irish car, if the 
night, as was now the case, come on unaocom« 
panied by moon or stars. To sleep is scarcely 
possible without exposing oneself to the almost 
«ertain contingency of being pitched off. A 
portly dame, who sat on the other side of me, 
began to sing, and told me she did so to keep 
herself awake. Her song and our silence cx>n- 
tinned nearly all the way to Orogheda,, and so 
did the downfal of the meteorological compound, 
■already described under the name of sleet, and, 
thus accompanied, we made our entry into the 
•ancient town watered by the Boyne. 

The linen trade forms the staple trade of 
X>rogheda ; but some branches, particularly the 
spinning of yarn, have been much depressed of 
late, by the erection of large spinning-factories 
at Ijeeds. The manufacturing of linen is a new 
l)ranch of industry ; whereas, in Ireland, it* is 
•one of the oldest that exists. The Irish linen 
trade has occupied the legislatures of Ireland 
and England for more than two hundred years. 
In England the subject has excited attention 
^nly since the beginning of the present century, 
,when the trade acquired some importance, in 
consequence of the introduction of large spin- 
liing-machines. In Ireland, also, these large 
machines have been introduced, and have ef 
fected quite a revokition in the trade. Some 
{Places have suffered, and others have gained by 
the change^ It is a singular fact that the ex- 
portation of Irish linen to England and to foreign 
•countries has not undergone any material change 
in amount since the beginning of this century. 
The quantity, during that time, has afways fluc- 
tuated between thirty-five and fifty-five millions 
of ells ; if, then, there be any foundation for the 
complaint of the manufacturers that their trade 
has been declining, it must lie in the increase 
of population, and the increased number of hands 
pressing forward for employment. The popu- 
lation of Ireland, since 1800, has nearly doubled, 
and, therefore, for the linen traders to have no 
subject of complaint, the consumption and ex- 
portation of their merchandise ought to have in- 
, creased in the same ratio. 



DROGHEDA AND ITS VICINITT. 

Drogheda is an ancient Irish town, yet it is 
buili nearly in the style of English towns. It 
is the only town in the north of Ireland of wkicb 
the population is on the decline.. In 1821 it 
contained t8,ll8 inhabitants, and in 1831, 
17,366. Its river, the Boyne, has become less 
famous for the dark bog-dyed water that it 
bears to the sea->one of its tributaries is even 
called the Blackwater — than for the blood once 
so freely poured into the stream, at the battle 
between William III. and James II-, which led 
to the expulsion of the latter, and the entire 
re-establi)shment of English influence in Ire* 
land. This battle is to the Irish what the bat- 
tle of the White Mountain was to the Bohemi> 
ans, the battle of Culloden to the Scots. 

A few miles from Drogheda, near the river, 
lies the field of battle; and, as the valley ia 
which it lies has natural beauties of its owa, 
besides some interesting Druidical remains» 
and, above all, the celebrated sepulchral mona* 
ment of New Grange, I sallied forth on the (bV 
lowing day to make a little pilgrimage up the 
river, in company with aa obliging and well» 
informed Drogheda patriot. Where the valley 
narrows, oq the spot where one of the most de- 
cisive incidents of the battle occurred, aa oba> 
lisk bas been erected on a large stone, or rock» 
by the side of the river. My companion, who 
had spent nearly all his life in the vicinity, t<4d 
me that all the details of the battle were atiii 
fresh in the memory of the people of the Bur* 
rounding country, and that not only the^e inci- 
dents, but even the family circumstances and 
genealogies of those who distinguished them« 
selves in the battle, were carefully preserved 
from generation to generation. Irish tradkipat 
have still the peculiar character of those of n»> 
tions among whom printed books do not exist 
Every thing is described in its roiaytest de^ 
tails--locaIitie6, physiognomies, and even the 
speeches delivered— just as if the narrators had 
been spectators of the scenes they describe. 

Among those who perished at the battle of 
the Boyne, were several Germans, whom Will- 
iam bad brought over with him from Holland. 
One of these was the Duke of Schomberg, who 
commanded a part of William's army at the 
battle. The people say that the German tn ^ps 
had committed an outrage on an Irislkgirl, r.i.d 
that her lover, unable to discover the real ji- 
fender among the Germans, gratified his wai- 
geance by slaying their leader. 

James II. displayed but little courage in Uu^ 
memorable battle, which was fought on th' 'o*; 
of July, 1690. He abandoned the field f v^n 
before the battle was decided, and made a .iic^ 
of unexampled rapidity through Ireland, 
few hours he reached the Castle of Dublin t.i(i 
on the fidlowing day he rode to Waterfoc a 
distance of 100, English miles. Neverthth .-i^ 
James sought to throw the blame of the w». ,c 
defeat on the Irish. On arriving at the C. lie 
of Dublin, he met the Lady Tyrconnel, a w m- 
an of ready wit, to whom he exclaimed, ** t :m 
countrymen, the Irish, madam, can run '—fy 
fast, it must be owned." — '* In this, as in ov f, . 
other respect, your majesty surpasses then., for 
you have won the race ;" was the meritr-<l le- 
buke of the lady. At Waterfbrd, Jamcis» em.- 



IBBLAN*. 



U 



%afflped^for Franee. As tte^oMls yn>ceediiig to 
the vowel, the wind blew bis liat iaio the sea, 
4KMi as it was eremagi aad ike hat cfwid not 
te immedNitely reeovered, one «if his CQBipan- 
iomm. General O'FarreH, presonl^d his own hat 
ta til» king, that the latter imigfat not catch cold. 
Faroes accepted the offer, aad «ibs^ved; as he 
was mooatiag the side of the i^eaael, that if, 
through tbe foakt of ihe Irish, he had lost a 
«mMrn, he i»ad gypw gained a [hat in its ^tead. 
Jsmes's calaoanies agaiost Irish ooarage h«7e 
pesaed into «fhüTian, hal his own proeipitate 
night firon lAie Bojne still lives in fresh re- 
meoabranee thraaghoat loeland, where all par- 
ties are aAihe nareatfred in. their expressioos 
•of coi^eaapt. By this battle, WiOifti» III. set 
tlie seal to Henrf II.'s eonqusst of irelaa4 asd 
to the sntiisctioa of the country ; a subjection 
whrohv siDfee then, has had to be confirmed 
«4mce or twioe stvery eentary. On this occasion 
it was, that, in hoaoo^ of Wällsm and his eom- 
4M>ia, two new central coanties receiv«d %he 
«OHhieli of XiBg'« Coanty and Qneen's Cousty. 

All the way from DMglieda to Navan, the 
-vaU^ of the ttsyna disiila^s traces of üh-uidieal 
«»ODumeiMs. On ose he^^ wie inspected thee 
.veBBains of a croflsleoh or etroular temple, of 
which oofy four large* atones ranaiated stand- 
ing, ibnaing the segment of a «tvcle; A part 
«f the hill had been dug awa/ for agricutoncal 
porposes, and! this had caused the sinking of 
t«na other stoass. A little farther up the river 
we cams to severs! tomuli. and one «f these is 
tlwe farfomed hüi of New Giasage. This hill is 
«eoraposed of a» enormous maa» e( flint-stones, 
I» about fifty or sixty feet high, aaid about 300 
paces lu eirouinlerence. The atMaajber of stooes 
4tf whieh it eensiats is, thecefora^ iacaliculably 
giveat, particular^ as the m^ority, at th^ sum- 
nit at least, are not larger ^than earaaion paring 
utoaesv Round ih& base of the hsH, in lihe form 
ef a «oireie, stand airamhär <of Jaige stoaest aiU 
Jtestiag^ oa theiv headh. BOlne e? these ha«e 
akisa^ fallso^ aad othenr have totaUy disap- 
peared. As^ ttiB )h&R is eoai^ele^ surrounded 
«y arabk landymany oC the esonea tnay haue 
been wmoired by the fatmersi to he sullied, to 
4loine dodaeatte or ajgriooltusal- yurpoae. 

The oMside of the hili is toov wmvgiwmi 
WÜb gnss, 6ushes^ aad- tarees ; for, in the 
eouMo of time; a ee<rering of sctil has' oaturaHy 
4>een' ^posited- thera Aitthe dnnroit lAi^giaas 
4ind' sott lia<ve> been eleased! away- in .maa^ places 
-«-prdbaMy to .gratify theeädosityiof viaüera^ 
.«Ml there the eoaipOsition of the asonnd may 
tM'Sesaoleaifyettough'; indeed, it may be tm- 
^eed'all up thd sides «f tka;hill^ by any ane who 
will thke' tHe' trouble te remove a little of the 
«Oil: that lias aacumulatedr dunag a. ausaolaiAn 
-«fag^. 

Iii'siliB a«Ml •outward appearanoo this tttmu)Q8 
«Uly bo compared to tibohei«ereoted at Cracow 
tO'CheimenlotT^uf Kosoiuskovand jki< honour of 
tlle«iotw ancient nolabilf ties, Wanda «nd £rak. 
It reasinds oUe also of the tasaui«; of Elpeoor 
^amd' of AdUUOs on the: ppamoatory of fiigsMBi, 
«0 aceuratdy dasoribed' in the tvieUth book of 
tihe Odyss^, andi by auooeeiAiag travellere. 
The large Tartaric maunds in the Crimea, 
i>aised< pmhaUy in faodoar oT anoient Seylhian 
MWi^ Boapheraa ItiuBS, aae of pmoiaely w aimbir 
fyrm, 03w^t thatrbeiti^ ended' ia* s /oooatry 
F 



in which stones are extrem.elt^ acarce, they are 
constructed of earth. Ih the soUth of RuaSa, 
a rude figure carved in stone, and soioetimds a 
stone only, are frequently placed on the sum- 
mits of these tumuli. On the tumulus of Achfl- 
les» the traces of a atone pillar are also said to 
be visible, and in Ireland tradition tells of many 
of these hUiocks, that large stones stood origi- 
nally, on the summits. The tradition is in some 
m/sasure con^rmed by thie fact, that on (be top 
of most of them a small indentation is found, 
from which tho st;pne may readily be supposed 
to have been washed away by long-continuOd 
rains. The Ei^glish qall these tumuli bammf* 
when constructed of earth, and cainu when 
built of stones. 

It is not, however, the oi^ward appcararioe 
80 jauch aa the iuward distribution, itbat co^- 
stitutes the cjhief interest of New Grange. An 
opening has. been disco Viored at the foot of iho 
. cairn, and through this opening ii is possible to 
reach tho vaulted chambers oTihe iuterior. To 
visit this interior had beed the chief object of 
our trip, and we came j^epared with Ikhts, for 
the entranoe is extremely narrow, and tolera- 
bly long. Immediately in front of the entrance 
is a little s^pace sheltered from the wind ; a 
miniature cavern, ^eonstructed» perhaps, by the 
first dificaverers of the passage, or by some ^f 
its earlies|t ex^ploreirs. Here we drew ofiT our 
clothee, lighted our candles, and commenced 
our opvratiousw The passaae, fifty feet long, is 
so choked \tp with stones, tMt it is only by ^> 
ing on the back, feeling one's way with the feet, 
and p^shiqg oi^eself forward with the handjs, 
that it is possible to get forward ; aiid as the 
whole way runs over shafp-cornered fiint- 
stoaes, this is about the most disagreeable 
slide that ^ man cap look for in any part of the 
world . The side walls of ^he passage are form- 
ed of large stones, toleralilv jQat, with siaiHar 
stones laid acrioss them to iorm the top. 

We soon reached the convenient interior of 
the tumulus, wiheee it was ^saible, not ouly^to 
stand uprig^t,JI>at likewise tp walk fi'eely about, 
the place b^iü^ neither more nor leps than a 
amaÜ «hapoH, wit^ t)iree si^e chapels depend- 
ing on it. We had bought with us a i^reat 
nund>er of candles. One of theae we suspend- 
e4 in the centre .0^ the princtpaifbapel, and in 
oaoh of the i^ree ^mall^ chapels we likewise 
placed a ^ight, sticking the rest .to the wails as 
well as we cou^d; and 9xM this iShiroulation 
my epi iaau4e^ over tÜo mos^ remarkatUe 
apd wtorestiag aj^imen of old CyclDpean 
airctUtectwre tha^ Aad e^ beheld. Rude ä^d 
sinPipW aa eatery jUiihg was, I fear i^ will }k m- 
4cult to gjive my readers any thing jke an ab- 
curate idea, «f the atructuve and .^pearahce of 
1^ place. 

There ^canpot he a douU but tlie chapdis 
wep» huiliti hafoce the cairn was erected. The 
nateriaJß oif the tumulus wjofuld have lüadj^' it 
'impoaaible to Jhave »forked Into its si^es after- 
wards. The chapel w^, therefore, bUilt fii^t, 
and the pyramid of atones was piled ujion its 
roof subseqjjently. In the manner of th<B buildr 
iilg, the archttepta appear to have followed t|ie 
plan adopted by children in making housed of 
oarda. tarj^Jat stones were placed ojo th^dir 
edges to locm the aide and back laralls, äad 
<4)tl^a vi^ereiaid av«r them to ibum the ceilaüg. 



89 



IRELAND. 



In this way, at least, the three lateral chapels 
were constructed, leaving the side open by 
which they communicate with the central 
ehapel. One of these dependent chapels is to- 
wards the east, one towards the west, and one 
towards the north. Towards the south is the 
opening to the passage described above. 

The main difficulty with the old Cyclopean 
architects was to construct the vault of the 
central chapel. This difficulty has been solved 
thus : On the four firm bases presented by tlie 
roofs of the three lateral chapels, and by the 
colossal gateway to the narrow entrance-pas- 
sage, large flat pieces of rock were laid, but 
projecting a little inward. On these, again, 
were placed similar masses of stone^ projectmg 
a little more inward, and this operation was 
repeated three or four times, the flat stones be- 
ing let into each either something like the fingers 
of a folded hand. The small hole that, at the 
end, remained at the top of the chapel, was 
closed by one gigantic stone, as a crown to the 
whole work. The wei</ht of the enormous 
mass of flints by which the chapel was in time 
covered, only increased the solidity of the 
atones overlaid in the way I have described, 
and the whole stands indestructibly there, a 
pile to which eternity alone can assign a limit. 
The flints were probably, not heaped together 
all at once. In Arabia, in some parts of Afri- 
ca, as well as in Ireland and Scotland, it is fre- 
quently customary to raise a heap of stones on 
a sacred place, or over a grave. In Esthonia a 
similar custom is often observed. Every pass- 
er-by is expected to throw a stone upon the 
hallowed spot, accompanying the act by a pious 
wish or a short prayer. In this Way large 
heaps of stones have been formed in all these 
countries. Perhaps when the holy place was 
consecrated, a number of stones were in the 
first instance thrown upon it by the assembled 
multitude ; succeeding visiters and pilgrims 
may have done the same, till, in the course of 
centuries, the cairn rose to its present altitude. 

I have said that eternity alone can assign a 
limit to the endurance of such a work ; for it is 
difficult to imagine any cause that might lead 
to the destruction Of this monument, except the 
gradual decay of the stones themselves, and 
that must be the work of an incalculable series 
of centuries. Thousands of years have proba- 
bly passed over these stones already, and that 
without leaving even a trace of decay. Vege- 
t^ion even has not yet begun to develop itself 
in the interior. An earthquake, opening the 
ground, and swallowing up the whole tumulus, 
is almost the only natural event that could de- 
stroy this primeval chapel ; but Ireland has 
never been visited by earthquakes, and will 
probably be spared by such calamities in future. 

As little is to be feared for this edifice from 
man as from nature ; for none of the motives 
which have led to the wilful destruction of Did 
buildings can have any influence at New 
Grange. Many of our most ancient monu- 
' ments have fallen by human hands, because 
Npast associations and uses rendered them justly 
obnoxious to the people ; thus fell the Bastille 
at Paris, and many old castles and towers in 
Germany. Others were demolished because 
their material^ were wanted for other purposes. 
Many were destroyed from curiosity or avarice, 



by those who hoped to discorer hidden 
ures or relics under them. Several £g3rptiaa 
pyramids, and royal sepulchres in the Crimea 
and other plaees» have been destroyed in the 
way. A passion for the arts has been fatal to 
other monuments ; for instance, to many beaa- 
tiful Greek temples. 

Of all these motives, not one is likely to ana 
the inhabitants of Erm against monuments lik» 
that of New Grange. Great blocks of ston» 
like these, can hardly be of ase to this w fu> 
ture generations, unless the human race should 
return to its old barbarism* and our architeota- 
ral science descend to the grade wbicli it occu- 
pied at the time when these Cyclopean monu» 
ments were erected. And even in that case,, 
the neighbourhood possesses abundance oTston» 
which might be obtained far more easily. Ob- 
noxious these chapels can scarcely ever be- 
come, for the party contentions and sectarian» 
distinctions which may have existed at the pe> 
riod of their erection, in the time of the Droids,. 
died away long since so completely, that iheir 
regeneration is out o( the question. The en- 
thusiasts for art, who have so often robbed anit 
injured the temples of Greece and other ooun^ 
tries, could scarcely find any temptations to 
similar outrages upon these Irish antiquities,, 
which are only remarkable as a whole, and 
would lose all their interest when taken to pie- 
ces. To this rule, however, a few except itrn» 
must be allowed, as I shall proceed to show. 
Avarice and curiosity are very unlikely to prove 
dangerous to these monuments ; for here no- 
thing is concealed from the eye. and every one 
can immediately convince himself that they 
contain nothing but huge masses of stone. 

It is likely enough, therefore, that New 
Grange and other monuments of a similar kind» 
will outlast the towers of Babylon, the obelisks 
of Egypt, the tetnples of Greece, the kniglitly 
castles of the middle ages, and all present ex- 
isting edifices. The rejection is cateulated to 
inspire the spectator with the strongest emo- 
tions of interest and respect for these venerable 
relics pf a remote antiquity, which will speak 
to so many future ages as they do to him. 

We now proceed to examine the seimrate 
curiosities of the little chapels. Each contains 
a large stone basin, and one of them is furnish- 
ed with two of them. Tbey all bear some re- 
semblance to .the fonts of Christian churches,, 
being large, round stones, about twenty feet m 
eircumferenoe, hollowed slightly at the top, se 
as to form a large sbalk^w basin or saucer. 
The whole workmanship of these basins, how- 
ever, is so rough and imperfect, that though 
they have been very evidently somewhat alter- 
ed from their natural state, it is difficult to dis- 
cover how this alteration has been efiTected. 
r^either chisel, knifts, nor measuring stick, canr 
well have been used here. The cavities look 
as if they had been caused by the long rubbing: 
of one large stone upon another. One of the 
chapels 'contains, as I have said, two such ba- 
sins, one within another. Perhaps the. other 
chapels were formerly similarly provided, but 
have been robbed of their smaller basins by^ 
antiquarian collectors. 

The northern chapel, which is opposite the 
entrance, is built of the largest stones. One of 
the bamns was half-filled with water, which 



IRELAND. 



se-^med tn bave trickled together from the sides 
of ihe cavern. My guide told me that be had 
always found water there whenever he visited 
thn chapel. Excepting these basins, very few 
traces of human industry are discoverable in 
the chapels. Here and there rude ornaments 
are carved on some of the stones. One stone, 
for instance, is mariced with several zigzag 
lines, running parallel to each other. On the 
surface of another are but spiral lines, running 
round in six or seven diminishing circles, and 
ending in a point Others are marked with lit- 
tle radiuses, or stars, which may perhaps have 
been intend«?d, by the star-worshipping Druids, 
to represert the objects of their adoration. A 
few of f he stones are marked with' rude draw- 
ings, app^iently intended to represent flowers 
and fruit All these marks are, however, very 
rudely CJil. The most abundant are the sftjral 
lines. At the foot of one of the sidestones, in 
one of ihe chapels, an inscription is also shown, 
consisting of various characters entirely un- 
known, which, according to Irish antiquarians, 
belong neither to the ** Feadha," the common 
old Irish aiphabet, nor to the *' Ogham,*' the old 
Irish hieniglyphic or cipher. A stone, which 
forms the inner doorpost of the chapel, is cut 
with small parallel furrows from top to bottom, 
which look as if they had been caused' by the 
pulling backwards and forwards for some time 
of a nunrber of ropes. When we consider the 
«ize of this stone, it can have cost no trifling 
labour to make these marks, the purpose of 
irbich it seems quite impossible to discover. 

These nMmuments, whether considered in de- 
Uiil or as a whole, are among the most interest- 
ing I have ever beheld. It is a great pity that 
they are so concealed from general inspection, 
and that their inconvenient entrance renders 
them inaccessible to one half— namely, the 
feminine half of mankind. As we went out, I 
observed a numberless host of small gnats clus- 
tered together upon one of the stones ofthe in- 
ner entrance. These little animals are now 
the solitary as well as the most ancient inhal>- 
itants of these colossal chambers. They with- 
draw here every autumn to spend the winter, 
and fty out again in spring. 

When we had at last emerged into the open 
air agam, we met a few IrisB peasants, whom 
we questioned as to whom they imagiri^d to 

• have been the builders of these caverns. They 
answered ** the Danes,*' the usual answer given 
by the Irish, whenever questioned as to the or- 
igin of any of their ancient monuments. It was 

• the Danes, they say, who dug the moats, the 
Danes who built the old ruined castles, the 
Danes who erected the great barrows and 
cairns. Even the round towers are sometimes 
attributed by the common people to the Danes ; 
and among the minor vexations of the antiqua- 
riah and the curious traveller, it may be men- 



part of the island, and in such extraordinary 
numbers and variety, as alone to render the 
common conjecture highly improbable. On the 
other hand, however, the Irish are not wanting 
in bold imagination, and are prone to boast of 
the vast antiquity of every thing belonging to 
them ; so that if no foundaviim at all existed 
for their popular theory, their national pride 
would probably have led them to imagine a far 
more remote antiquity for their ancient monur 
meats. 

These various considerations combined have 
led me to an hypothesis which, as far as I am 
aware, has never hitherto been entertained by 
any Irish antiquarians.* It is, that the Irish 
people have confounded the Danes, commonly 
so called, with the much more ancient nation 
of nearly the same name, th,at of the DanaaiUf 
who inhabited Ireland long before the birth of 
Christ. These Danaans, or Tuatha-de-Danaans 
were, according to Irish chroniclers, the third 
race which colonized Ireland. Of these Da- 
naans, Thomas Moore, repeating the popular 
tradition, gives ihe following account: **They 
were a people much famed for necromancy. 
ITiey had for some time inhabited Greece, 
where tHfey learned the art of magic, and whence 
they wandered to the shores of the Baltic, and 
to Scandinavia. Here they came into the pos- 
session of many wonderful treasures, among 
others the Stone of Destiny, the MagiciaR*8 
Spear, and the Magical Kettle. Armed witU 
these marvellous gifts, the Danaan race grad- 
ually found their way to Scotland; whence 
finally, under the guidance of their chieftaiBf 
Nuad of the Silver Hand, they sailed over to 
Ireland. They landed secretly, under shelteF 
of a magicial mist raised by their wonderful 
arts, and spreading themselves rapidly over 
the country, they fought and defeated the in.- 
habitants at the battle of Moytora, otherwise 
called the battle of the Field of the Tower.** 
Now, since the Danaans were so Aunoua for 
their skill in arts, even in magic arts, they may 
have covered Ireland with these monumentav 
with all of which popular superstitions ai» aitill 
connected ; and, since their name is pronounced 
almost exactly like that of the Danes, how likely 
is it that many of the works commonly attribu- 
ted to the latter, may really he relics of the older 
1^ race ! For certain it is that rude Cyelopean 
monuments, such as this of New Grange, can- 
not but bave stood here from the very remotest 
antiquity of Irish history. It is also a very prob- 
able as well as generally reeeived conjecture, 
that these barrows and cairns were intended 
for religious purposes. Some imagine them to 
have been the sacred supulohral monuments of 
famous chieftains.; others that they were used 
as temples. Both may easily be in the right, 
for many nations use the graves of their dead 
as places of religious worship, and certain AfH- 



tioned that there are not wanting persons of can tribes use no other temples or altars than 
cnltivation, who ought to know better, and who 
yet ignorantly /and thoughtlessly acquiesce in 
' the common opinion. 

llie Danes did not come to Ireland before 
the ninth, tenth, or eleventh century, and many 
of the monuments ascribed to them are of much 
older date. Besides, the Danes never occupied 
any but the eastern pari of Ireland, yet the an- 
tiquities ascribed to them are found in every 



the graves of their Marabouts. Perhaps the 
ancient Danaans were in the habit of assem- 
bling for religious ceremonies within these 
cairns, while the holy fire blazed at the same 
time on their summits. In Cornwall there is a 
cairn of this kind still, called the '* Karn Lesky,'' 
or '* Karn of Burnings.** Perhaps the top ofthe 
tumulus was sacred to the Sun-g<Kl or celestial 
deities, while the caverns beneath were dedica- 



w 



IKHUAÜD. 



ted to the in^rnal powers. The atime basins 
J^faave described, may bave served as altars er 
sacrificial vessels. 

There are many similar tumati along the 
shores of the Boyne, but they are none of them 
^ BO large or important as that of New Grange, 
except one at Dowth called the Moate of Dowtb, 
which appears exactly to resemble the former. 
If any thing, it is rather the higher and larger 
of the two, and is less overgrown than that of 
New Grange. At ä place where the turf has 
been cut away, the material is rendered visible, 
and this cahm consists, like the one I visited, 
of enormous masses of flijit, piled upon one an- 
other. Upon one side an entrance has been 
discovered, exactly like that of New Grange, 
leading probably to a similar narrow cavemlike 
passage, and this passage to similar, or better 
atfl], to larger and somewhat different chapels, 
the comparison of which with those already 
known, might lead to most interesting discov- 
eries. But to the disgrace of the proprietors 
and gentry of the surrounding country, with 
their fortunes often thousand a year and more, 
the entrance has never been opened, and no 
part of the monument has ever been investiga- 
ted. I remember well how provoking I thought 
it, to find so many curious tumuli untouched and 
unopened in South Russia and among the Tar- 
tars ; but I have ceased to wonder at that, now 
that I find such remarkable and interesting an- 
tiquities standing as neglected and as unheeded 
in the midst of a country like Great Britain, as 
did the pyramids in the African deserts. One 
would fancy that on English ground every relic 
<$^ring attractions to antiquarians, artists, or 
dilettanti, would have been explored, ransacked, 
and classified over and over again ; yet this neg- 
leoted cairn at Dowth is no solitary instance. 
From the hill of Dowth we enjoyed a beauti- 
(fol view of the ralley of the Boyufl. with all the 



undertAking. These old eburchyarda, lying 
among ivy-covered ruins s^nd overshadowed }^j 
venerable trees, oflen surrounded by the wild- 
est and most striking sceneiy, wUbio whose 
hallowed precincts rich and poor lie down to 
rest together, are certainly characteristic of the 
condition and habits of the Irish people. 1^ 
Irish cling with inalienable constancy to evecy 
thing old, and can rest in peace only among tl^ 
bones of their ancient chieftains, among the con- 
secrated scenes of so many old legencife and tra- 
ditions, among the rained witnesses of their an- 
cient glory ; there generations after generations 
lie down to their last repose, as if they hoped 
for a day of resurrection for these venerable 
ruins of antiquity, as well as for themselves. 

At every turp, however, in Ireland, you mesi 
with things of which the like is nowhere to be 
found in any other part of Europe. On our re- 
tm'n to Drogheda« we met a funeral, and I ob- 
served that the hearse was very rude^ maäß. 
Upon my inquiring the reason of this, I was .told 
that very little trouble was wasted here upsn 
the hearse, because it was the custom never to 
use it again, but immediately after the burial to 
break it up and throw the pieces into the grave. 
I aflerwards found that this custom was sm- 
eral all over the north of Ireland. 

I had scarcely rsrentered Drogheda by ^m» 
gate, before I drove out of it by aaoU)er,.ii^, pur- 
suance of the resolution taken by some xeslous 
antiquarians, with wboip I had the good fortune 
to become acquainted at Drogheda, and vho re- 
fused to let me continue my journey, until I bad 
enjoyed with them an exf^n^Dfttion af the far- 
fam^ '* Mana^Urhfiiety 

These famous monastic ruins lie a ÜSF miles 
north of Drogheda, and I Tiaitedthemthe ««ext 
day. Tl^ey consist of a round towf^r, and some 
ruins of chiirebes, and as they Ue aptartfrom the 
ncnain road we drove to them by a nanow ^- 



tnmiili scattered along its sides, and of the xvxpt lane. MomutUrioiu, or, as the Irish Siöf. Äms- 



winding along between the;p, and towards the 
west over Slane, where in foriper times existed 
a famous college, whose ruips are still standing. 
JJot far irom Dowth, upon the lands of ^be Net- 
terviUe femily, stand also ihe ruins qran old 
ehos^, overgrown, as usual, with ivy» within 
th^ ciroait of whose rooile^ walls stand yet tiie 
nionuneDts of many families, whp aA^ death 
**were brought home to iheir peoplfj," as tije 
irish say. Among others was a wtiite marb)e 
Monameat of one of the Ifettervilles. vhi^ 
laoked highly pletayesque against ^i^e green ivy 
ted.the gi«ay M walls. ' I dannot cpnceiye how 
ihe EbgHsU can go to P^re la Chaise, fi^nd a^}- 
flsirethe tasteless and prosaic monuments there, 
liflK^'ä visit to a fbw of the old ^rish cHurpb- 
yartts, would afford theoji, in the grea[test at)un- 
4aiioe, venerable and ptcturesuue tombsj and 
ae^es of the highest interest. We have inainy 
«dteotions of views of "English misinsionsV' 
why have not a few English painters and wri-* 
tscg combined to give i^e wdrld an illustrated 
work on "The OW Churchyards of Ireland!*' 
The painter indeed ought to be a Rnysdael, 
whose ^^ehurohyard,'» in the Dresden gallery, 
jaaOk rssembles, in beauty and poetry^ an Irish 
iShärehyard ; and thtf writer ougbt at least to 
luB.a Mbors or Byron, who should know how to 
aiunate by the power of a poetical imagination, 
Mil the »sthetie and the historical part of his 



attix^BniU^ the Monastery of Baite or Bq«ti«B, 
J9iwes Its prigin to i i^moqs abbot w bishqp pf 
that name» a puj^il of St. Patrick, whis liv^ to- 
ward^ the end ^ the fifth 'Sentagr. Many an- 
ciei^t at^ts of this mosastery distingiiHibod 
themselves in varioufi w40^St w4 ijeadered (Mr 
QSmea fapf^tus in Irish ^story; the niKist rele- 
brated otthps^ i^aa JPlsnp, whp dis«! i»Mi«yaar 
,105$. He IS t^e ^ great «oarps ar piüglaBi 
.authority inmatj«rs<>if Insh histoi7i R<iB(nW'«iid 
4pquience; ap4 t,N ^rajAiM<fnal haUsda (^ Mie 
p^oj^ t^HS ffiff,^ tpihim; 

«< FhuM «Cthft fiiMt thvMii «fMrMt BiiHft, 
T^t hu4i jvoMpr ftf ihaiMwitix «i t^^ltoti Bow* 

Msny anc^jpt ^ish pqrrns airt^sliU aacnhoi^l» 
b;^pn« l^at th^ worfc t^ w^iah hßlisS'aitaiiMHithB 
great^t pel^jlty, ^^ l^ja ^yn^^roalama of th» 
Ir^h^ kin^, the wmiaX snd Roman empsMnrs, 
the provincial aad pj^nal rulers of teiaad* 
and ^e Scottish l^ngs^f Irish descent» 

Mpnasterhoice^ sq Wng the seat of pietgrwid 
learmog, lost its importance and ^I in^ ruins 
when the English conquei;e4 the kingdom of 
Meath, to i^hich it be|ppged. 

Not fj^r from the ruins rqse a hare andbarisa 
hiUopk, with a few wretched cabins at th.« Ics^^ 
and then thie roa^ led down into the plain, ia 
the centrp of whpse bsrrep and mn«^n«iiw 
waste stfH^ the defHM«(e asd sivUKury mipa 



IRELAND. 



I 



^ey fortned a pfcioresqne though melancholy 
spectacle^ and while all around was bare and 
naked« they offered «belter to a few old trees 
Which overshadowed them. Near the great 
round tower, round whose lofty but broken sum- 
nit fluttered numbers of ravens and rooks, and 
between the low church- walls, all covered with 
ivy, cKood a few large stone crosses, quite erect 
snd in perfect preservation, and the intervening 
spaces were, as usual, filled with old decaying, 
and with newly-erected grave-stones. The dark 
colour of the turf-covered plain around, the liglit 
yellowish hue of the foliage that clustered 
among the ruins, and the bright green verdure 
^bitüi grew up at the feet of the buildings, all 
these varieties of tint tended to give a most 
pictaresque appearance to the interesting httle 
group of crosses, churches, tower, and grave- 
stones. Add to this, that not a creature was 
«fiTWhere to be seen, ejtcept myself and the 
^ide whom I had hired at the last cabin, and 
that the whole sky, as is oden the case in Ireland, 
was covered with masses of clouds of gigantic 
proportions and the wildest and most fantastic 
form. I had here again to remark the accura- 
cy with which a much esteemed Irish writer, 
named Petri, thus describes one great peculiari- 
ty of Irish senery. "The colours with which 
natture has painted the surface of Erin, are pe- 
eoliar to onr island. There is not a shade of 
green which does not adorn her soil, ttom the 
ätghtest and yellowest tint, to the darkest blue 
w brown green. In no other country is the v«jr- 
dore so varied, so rich, and so brilliant. Even 
ouv bogs, by the great variety and contrast of 
colours, pnrpie, red, brown, and black, whieh 
they present to the eye, add beauty and anima- 
tion to oar landscapes, and eoniplete the nation- 
sä individuality of our scenery. Even onr clouds 
have peculiarities of their own, chiefly result- 
ing from the dampness of onr cKmate. They 
hare a grandeur in their shapes and proportions, 
and a power and variety in their Hght and shade, 
which is s^Mom seen in other countries. Irish 
clbods are at one mon^ent bright and sunny; 
and, ki the next moment, throwing their dark 
ahadows over the landscape, they infold it in 
Bielancholy gloom." 

Ireland is certainly ttic richest '* chud-land^* 
in Europe, and every landscape painter ought to 
come here to study her cloud phenomena. Not 
unapt symbols are these dood phenomena of the 
political and moral fate of poor Erin ! As clouds 
aftenr clouds rise continually from the Atlantic 
Ocean, and form themselves into an ever-shifl- 
ing, ever-changing mantis of darkness, scantily 
interspersed with gleams of watery Kght, so 
^lere rise continoaHy elonds afler clouds from 
Ihe troubled ocean of history, to overshadow, 
in ever-changing formd, the oppressed and sad- 
dened people, who dream on in melancholy de- 
spair, but seldom and briefly permitted to sport 
in the warm sunshine of prosperity and hope. 
In studying the natural scenery of the country, 
we are continually reminded of the national 
character, history, and condition of its inhabi- 
tants. Who that watches the ever-shifting 
«kinds of an Irish sky, can help thinking of 
]loore*s poems : 

*• Brill, the tMir tttd th« »tiii!« ib ddkw ey«t," 
«f bis wspping stars, 

** At th6 ndtd-lio«r 6f aiifbt, ivhen ttiM Mtt wfepfaig,'* 



or of his snddeii gleams of light^ 

" *Tig gone, and t^t ever, tke light we eaw 1 

or of his sunbeajus amidst rain * 

** Though dark are obr aonows. to-day well forget them, 
And naile through ^nr tean, like a sunbeam in showeia.** 

We at length arrived at the ruins themselves ; 
and, at the same time, there arrived one of those 
stormy and picturesque clouds v^hich we had 
admired so much as they passed over the land- 
scape. The hail rattied down among the stones 
of the old ruins, and for shelter we were obliged 
to creep into the round tower, whose door was 
luckily near enough to the ground to allow df 
our entrance. This tower has the uaual height 
of ITO ffeet, and the usual circumference of fity 
feet ; and though there is something interesting 
in visiting one of these curious and remarkable 
buildings, however familiar one may have be- 
come with them, the tower of Monasterboic© 
has certainly nothing to distinguish it from oth* 
ers of the same kind. The ruined churches, 
also, are remarkable only for their picturesque 
beauty. What renders this spot most interest- 
ing, however, are three remarkable crosses 
erected in honour of three Irish saints, St. Pat- 
rick, Boetius, and Columb Kill. These crosMs 
belong to the most interesting Christian antiqui- 
ties of Ireland, for tliey are better preserved 
than most of the remains of a similar character, 
and very elaborately decorated. They are built 
of great blocks of stone, placed one upon an- 
other, and are between twenty and thirty feet 
in height. Their shape is very peculiar. Upon 
a brosKl stone pedestal stands a block of stone, 
about fonrteen feet high, to the top of which is 
fastened a cross, formed of fbur arms of equd 
length, narrowing towards the centre and wi- 
dening at the ends, like those used by tbe Malt- 
ese knights. The arms of the cross are bonnd 
by a large stone ring or cfrde, whose segments 
pass round from arm tb arm, and stone cross 
and stone ring seem united into one figure. Ped- 
estals, crosses, and rings are all covered with 
curious sculptures, which offer mterestmg sub- 
jects of investigation to Irish antiquaries. They 
prove the existence of a quite peculiar style of 
Christian art in the early Irish church, and re* 
nrind us, by the manner of their lines and draw- 
ings, of the paintings and decorations in some 
old illuminated Irish manuscripts which we hhd 
seen at a library in Dublin. 

The block and arms of the cross had, ef 
course, each fbur sides, and the edges between 
these were bound with little spiral Unes, whUa 
the sides were dWtded into small squares, each 
containing a scene firom scriptuTC history— Ad- 
am and Eve, Cain and Abel, Paradise, Hefl, the- 
Crucifixion, &c. I noticed a couple of harpera 
in Paradise. I suppose no Irishman of the old- 
en time- would have thought Paradise .completö 
without his beloved national instrument. 

The borders and ornaments here and there In- 
troduced to fill up, were very curious. In me 
place I noticed serpents twining round a hanian 
head ; in another a female figure with alafge 
dog hanging to each ear. These were probably 
scenes of torture from th^ Irish Hell. Two 
long slender dogs, twisted curiously togMher, 
like snakes, recurred very often. I have never 
been able to disCover the meaning ef these dogs, 
seen so continoaHy on aH Old Christian ttenn- 
, meats' i n Ireland. Another very peculiar ligttie, 



IRELAND. 



wbid. I foand on many Irish antiquities, and 
among others on these crosses of Coluroba, was 
a regular circle, within which Were drawn great 
numbers of fine wavy or knotted lines, running 
spirally to the centre. Upon fine of these fig- 
ures a sii;all hand was neatly carved in bas-relief 
upon the stone I began to conjecture what 
meaning the monks of Columba could have in- 
tended to convey by tltese doubtless symbolical 
lines ; and unable to invent any better hypothe- 
sis, I conjectured that this circle signified the 
world, that these snaky and wavy lines symbol- 
ized the strange turbulent labyrinths and whirl- 
pools of, human passion and suffering, which 
that world contains, and that the band, stand- 
ing forth in relief from th« drawing, represent- 
ed the guiding hand of the Father and Ruler of 
all things, who, directing and superintending 
those confused intricacies, would one day re- 
solve them all into harmonious order. 

After busying myself in these interesting 
speculations for some time, I turned round and 
asked my guide what was his conjecture as* to 
the meaning of the figure. He respectfully took 
off his hat, and said, " PU tell your honour. 
You see, there was a woman that had baked a 
pancake one Sunday, contrary to the command- 
ment : 60 when she wenKo lay hold of the cake 
to take it up, it stuck to her hand, and she could 
never get it off again ; and holy St. Patrick had 
the story carved in stone here for an everlast- 
ing lesson and warning to us, to keep holy the 
Sundays and holydays. That's it, your hon- 
our/' So saying, Paddy put on his hat again. 

At the foot of one of the crosses were sculp- 
tured various monsters and reptiles, probably 
emblematic of heathenism and the foes of 
Christianity, over whom the cross now reared 
its triumphant head. 

" These crosses, your honour, were never set 
up by human hand," said my guide. '' They 
were brought over from Rome by angels ; and 
when they were laid in the churchyard, they got 
up of themselves, and put themselves upon the 
pedestal, just as your honour sees them. The 
angels hadn't even to put a hand to it, your hon- 
our. The crosses did it all of themselves. The 
cross <tf holy Golumb Kill is the only one put 
up by human hands." 

CoUimb Kill is a saint of very great reputa- 
tion both in Ireland and Scotland. He is some- 
lioies called Columba, which name was given 
him on account of the dovelike simplicity and 
innocence of his character. Kill is the old Irish 
word for church, so that his name, at full length, 
signifies, " the dove of ihe church." The cross 
erected to his honour among the ruins of Mon- 
asterboice has fallen down once, and has been 
put up again in a very broken state. It stands 
in a square bole on the pedestal, and this hole 
is partially filled with water. My guide assured 
me that this water never dried up, however long 
a drought there might he. Sick people come 
from/ar and wide to bathe their diseased limbs 
in *' ^ 9fßeat of Columba'a cross.*' The peas- 
antry also scratch off the scanty moss growing 
on the surface of the cross, and mix it with the 
tea -they drink, *' for good luck." I do not know 
whether, in any other part of Cristendom, it 
has ever been the custom to erect fine large 
crosses in the open air in honour of particular 



I returned on foot to the little cabin upon the 
barren hillock where we had lelt our ca'rs, 
and as a hard shower of > hail was falling over 
the dark plain and among the old ruins, I was 
compelled, for the sake of shelter, to take a clo- 
ser inspection of the interior of this cabin. This 
gave me an opportunity of watching the prep- 
aration of those oat-cakes which play so im- 
portant a part in the natioharcookery both of 
Ireland and Scotland, and which are even found 
carved upon their monuments, as I have above 
described, These far-famed cakes are made of 
oats very roughly ground. The coarse flour is 
mixed with water, into a thick gritty paste, and 
spread upon a warmed iron plate. This round 
iron plate, which is found in the poorest Irish, 
cabins, is warmed by a handful of lighted straw 
placed underneath it, and in a few moments the 
cooking process is over, the paste being taken 
off in the shape of a hard, thin, dry biscuit. 
This paste is dignified by the name of cake, and 
is eaten daily by the poor Scotch and Irish. 
These cakes are not much more palatable than 
a mixture of flour and water, made dry and hard, 
would be, yet many people are passionately fond 
of them. The Irish generally assure the stran* 
ger, when they show him their oat-cakes, that 
these are a particularly wholesome, nourishing, 
and strengthening kind of food, which can be true 
only when they are compared with the watery, 
tasteless, and meager poiatoes upon which the 
Irish have to subsist. The English, generally 
very curious about our black bread, and to whom 
the word '' black" seems to convey & kind of 
horror,* often repeat that with tliem people 
would never think of giving such a mess to any 
but horses; forjgettjng that with us nobody 
would think of giving oats to any but horses, and 
forgetting how many millions of hungry poor 
there are in their empire who would be most 
thankful for this despised black bread, and whom 
it would certainly nourish much better than oat- 
paste which they call cake, and the nourishing 
qualities of which th^ praise so highly. 

During, my stay at Drogheda J had an oppor- 
tunity of hearing the far-famed Irish harp, the 
ancient national instrument of the island. A 
catholic priest gave us an Irish musical soirist 
which was so interesting to me, that I consider 
it as one of the most agreeable soiries at which 
I ever was present. The room of this catholic 
priest, like that of most Irish patriots, was dec- 
orated with the portraits of O'Connell, Father 
Mathew, and Thomas Moore. I scarcely knew 
O'Connell again, for he was* represented in .a 
stately robe edged with fur, and wore his lord 
mayor's chain round his neck, which gave him 
a most royal appearance. Father Mathew was 
represented standing on a grassy mound in the 
open air. Behind him, in the dark background, 
rose the cross, and the clouds being parted just 
over his head, a stream of light surrounded it 
like a glory. Around him Iineeled and stood a 
crowd of persons, to whom he was preaching. 
This picture was interesting, as significant of 
the kind of adoration which Father Mathew re- 
ceives in Ireland. 

Drogheda is the last genuine Irish town. 
Farther north, every thing becomes more Scotch. 
than Irish. In Dn)gheda the population is 6til l 

* We have «< black bean,** ** Mack ink,» «*blao 
bat ** black bread,** QwnH baavena ! what an idea ! 



«Imo^t exclasirely catholic, and this* city is, 
tbarefore, a great darling of 0*Conneli'8, and 
most zealous in his cause and that of repeal. 
^^he suburbs of Drogheda are genuine Irish sub- 
«rbs, composed of wretched, dirty hovels, and a 
;^eat many people are to be found in the neigh- 
bourhood who speak the old Irish tongue more 
daeiitiy and frequently than the English. AlU 
these things rendered me desirous, before leav- 
ing the place, to hear some of that wild nation- 
al poetry and music which I had often heard so 
much spoken of. 

The first minstrel who made his appearance 
ivas an Irish dedaimer of the lower orders, eith- 
er a carpenter, a gardener, or a " broken iarm- 
«r,"* I know not which, but who, as I was told, 
'W2ta acquainted with a great number of old 
Irish songs and legends. He entered; and thus 
addressed me : ** Out of friendship for this man" 
<lneaning the priest), " I am come ; he tells me 
that there is a stranger here who wishes to hear 
something of our old Irish songs, and I will 
^adly repeat to him those I know." 

*• I thank you," said the priest, " but if you 
-were to repeat all you know, we should have to 
listen all night, I suppose, and many other 
nights as well." 

*• Yes, indeed, our ancestors have bequeathed 
to us great numbers of songs, and very beauti- 
ful ones too, sir. If you could only understand 
them ! What a beautiful song is that of ' To- 
ber a YoUish,* that is of the glittering spring, 
"Which is only three miles off from our town ; 
and that other of CuchuUin, the Irish champion, 
who went over Scotland. Please your rever- 
ence, shall I begin with CuchuUin V 
•• Do, my son, and God bless you." 
The man began to recite, and went on unin- 
terruptedly for a quarter of an hour. His story, 
of which I of course understood not a word, but 
"MTbich my friendly host afterwards explained to 
xne, »"eated of a Scottish enchantress, named 
Aithuna, who, forsaken by her Irish lover, Cu- 
chuUin, laid a cruel speU upon their son Kon- 
nell, which compeUed him by an irresistible en- 
«bantment, and entirely against his will, to fol- 
low, to persecute, to fight, and at last to destroy 
bis father CuohuUin. At the last moment, af- 
ter stabbing his father to the heart, in spHe of 
the efforts by which he struggled to resist the 
borrible impulse of his destiny, his own heart 
broke in the struggle, and son and father died 
together, while the revengeful spirit of the cru- 
el enchantress hovered in exultation over the 
flying» repeating to her treacherous lover the 
story of his inconstancy and her revenge. 

I was glad of an opportunity of assuring my- 
self by o^ demonstration of the actual exist- 
ence of Ossianic poetry like this at the present 
day. The reciter was, as I have said, a simple 
and ignorant man, with a good deal of the clown 
about htm, and his recitation was as simple, un- 
adorned, and undeclamatory as himself Some- 
times, however, when carried away by the in- 
terest of his story, his manner and voice were 
animated and moving ; at such times he fixed 
bis eyes on his hearers, as if demanding their 
sympathy and admiration for himself and his 
poem. Sometimes I noticed that the metre 
completely changed, and I was told that this 



* Th» broken fwmers m IreUmd rery often torn bards 
«ulreoiten. 



I^BLAND. 87 

was the case with all Irish poem^ for that the 
metre was always made to suit the subject. I 
also beard that the most beautiful part of this 
balled was the dialogue of father and son upon 
the battle-field ; but that a prose translation 
would give me no idea at all of its beauty. 

Our bard next recited a "spng of the Fairy 
Mounts." The story was that^so often repeat- 
ed in Ireland, of a fairy queen who faUs in love 
with a mortal youth whom she finds sleeping 
on a mountain top, and whom she invites to fly 
to fairyland with her, endeavouring to tempt 
him by descriptions of the splendour and attrac- 
tions of her fairy palace. He consents, on 
condition that when he dies, he shaU be brought 
home to his people ; which condition being 
granted, they go to fairyland together. While 
listening to the explanation of this poem, I was 
often reminded of Goethe's £rl-King, and of 
many Russian and Tartar legends of similar 
import. I used to fancy that the story of the 
Erl-King was of German origin, but now I rath- 
er imagine it to have originated in Ireland, and 
to have traversed the whole of Europe, termi- 
nating in Asia. 

Our reciter informed us that most of his po- 
ems, were of " venerable antiquity," and were 
Ossianic poetry. This Ossianic poetry, he said, 
was very abundant in the neighbourhood of 
Drogheda. This I had heard before, and from 
aU I heard in Ireland, I am much inclined to 
believe — what indeed many have also conjec- 
tured — that Macpherson obtained the materials 
for his version o^Ossian's poems from popular 
traditions and ballads in -the north of Ireland. 
The whole Irish nation, both in the south and 
north, is certainly much more imbued with the 
spirit of this poetry, and posses many more 
traces of it, than the Scottish people, whether 
of the Highlands or Lowlands. Ossian is now 
generally believed to have been no Scotchman, . 
but an Irishman, born at Tara, the ancient 
capital of Ireland. His father, Fingal, is more 
properly called Fin Mac Cul. ** Fin Mac Cul 
was as great a hero in those days, as our Irish 
Wellington in these," said our old reciter. The 
Scotch and Irish dispute every inch of debata- 
ble ground in their ancient history, and quarrel 
as much about their old heroes, as about their 
saints and missionories. Doubtless the shrewd- 
er and more active Scotch have decorated their 
traditions with many borrowed plumes from the 
Emierald Isle. Macpherson was not the <mly, 
although the luckiest and cleverest falsifier ai 
ancient Irish minstrelsy. 

These recitations were followed by music 
from that national instrument of which the Irish 
poet, Samuel Lover, sings : 

" Oh ! give me one strain 
Qf tiiat wild harp again ; 
In melody proadlj its own, 
Sweet harp of the days that are goue !" 

The harp was brought out, and a blind young 
harper advanced, who was, as I was told, one 
of the most distinguished harpers in the neigh- 
bourhood ; and in fact his music enraptured us 
all. The first piece he played was " Brian 
Boru's March." Brian Born was a great Irish 
hero, who raised himself to be king of all Ire- 
land, and defeated the Danes at the great battle 
of Clontarf, in 1014. Shortly after the battle, 
however, he was kUled by the Danish leader 



8S 



IRELAND. 



Brnadafr, and*". Erin thu«, WbiTe she gained a 
great victory, l^t a great chief. The music of 
this inarch is iwlidly powerful, and at the same 
time melancholy. It is at once the music of 
victory and of mourning. The rapid modula- 
tions and wil(l bearuty of the airs, was such that 
I think this march deserves fully to obtain a ce- 
lebrity equal to tbkt of the Marseillaise and the 
RajTOtsky. 

Wheü the Irish listen to these old airs and 
ihink of these oW deeds, while their hearts beat 
at the remembrance of their ancient glory, they 
do not forget their present degradation, and 
look /orward with almost as much confidence to 
a free and glorious future, as they look back to- 
wards a free eind glorious past. 

**Bat,IaUoftheW0st^ 
Rear thy emerald pr^st, 
Songsof tritin^ •hkll jfei hng^ for tlw«." 

So iitigs Lover. 

The ^arch of Brian Bora was follow^ by a^n 
air called the iPairy Queen, which I was told 
was a very old irish melody. Old or not, I can 
testify that it is a charming piece of music, so 
tender, so fairy-like, and at the same time so 
wild and sweetly playful, that it can represent 
nothing but the dancing and singing of the elves 
and fairies by moonlight. I afterwards heard 
this piece on the pianoforte, but it did not sound 
half so solfl and sweet as from the instrument 
of this blind young harper. Although I enjoy- 
ed the tatter part of my evening's entertain- 
ment, which was given in a languagis so uni- 
versally intelligible as music, much more than 
I bad done the former, yet I shall not attempt 
further to describe that enjoyment ; for of all 
the fine arts, music is the one of whose beau- 
ties it is most impossible to convey any ade- 
quate idea by criticism or description. 

We ^ere very much delighted with our harp- 
er, who was certainly a^ apcomplished artist, 
y^t Ireland contains many of still greater abili- 
ty and celebrity. The most celebrated of all^ 
however, is a man named Öyrne, blind also, if 
I do not mistake. When, therefpre, Moore 
mournfully sinj^, 

" The liarp that once thropgh Tara'a hall« 
The aool ofmasle shtfd; 
Now hanga as mtUto on Tata'J wallt. 
At ^f that foal were iled>^ 

^ Hi» lamentation must not be literally under- 
8lo<id. Many harps still veaoand in Ireland, 
and a new harper's society has just been set on 
foot in Drogheda, of whieh thü priemst who gave 
us this entertainment is the lifo and soul. His 
whols room was crowded with harps, oM and 
new. A harper*a school is Gonnected with this 
society, which alreadv numbers sixteen pupils. 
When I was in Drogheda, a concert was in 
preparation, to be given next week, at which 
seven harpers, mostiy blind, were to play to- 
gether. I regretted that it was impossible for 
, me to be present at this meeting. The greatest 
gatherings of Irish bards used to take place in 
'* Tara*s halls,*' to which Moore's poem alludes. 
This Tara, so frequently mentioned in the 
songs, poems, orations, and conversations of 
patriotic Irishmen, is now a small village a few 
miles from Drogheda, not far from New Grange. 
It was oooe the capital of Ireland, and a ball or 
palace stood there, in which the heathen kings 
and chieftains of Ireland assembled, probably at 
very difiTerent times and for very different pur- 



poses, bqt at least once every tnree ye|trj|,>» 
debate on matters of general concern- OU^aUfs « 
Fodhla is said to have institut49d these assem« 
blies about 200 years before Christ. The barils 
followed their chieAains to these meetings, in 
order to sing their deeds and glories at the ban- 
quets and on all festal occasions. Not only the 
laws agreed iipon by the chieftains at these 
meetings, but also the principal national events 
of the intervening years, were recorded in a.- 
sort of national register kept at Tara, the eon- 
tents of which were set to music and sungr 
by the bards. The last of these great na- 
tional assemblies at Tara, took place in the 
year 554 a(ler the birth of Christ, during the 
reign of Kin^f Diarmid. This was at the time 
when Christianity and the Christiaii priest 
hood had ahready become powerful in Ireland. 
When the old heathen institutions and o^^ta^- 
were gradually swept away, th^it of the ^rds» 
who had formed a powerful and privÜ0(|pd. 
caste, like the Hlemas of Turkey and the Druid» 
of their own country, was likewise thrust «side. 
Once it happened ^bat a criminal wl^ bad taken- 
refuge, in a monastry, was torn from hin sano- 
tuary and executed at Tara. The mo^ks londlf 
expressed their horrpr of this sacrilege, and 
proceeding in solemn procession to ihß palace 
of Tara, they pronounced a curse upon its wails^ 
Since that day neither b^rds nor chieftains tiav9 
met within the halls of Tara ; and the cQnvent 
that dared to pronounce a cure^ Mpon t)ie aiH 
cient and veneratMe council-hall of the Iria^ 
kings, has been known since by the name ef the 
Convent of the Curse. 

My Irish friends assured me that it is a peon- 
liarity of the Irish langnage, t|iat it has; no vni- 
gar dialect. The most ignorant Irish apefdi i% 
with as much purity and grammatical eearieet- 
ness as the most learned. This oqmld not |e 
the case with the Coglish language beeaqae^ 
this half Norman, half Saxon tongue h^ been 
forced upon conquered races, and each race, m^ 
learning English, has mixsil np with il aome» 
thing of its own ancient idiovau Thus Uiera iS' 
a Scotch, a Welsh, an Irish, and a OomwaU ilh 
alect. The English dialects anre very difibre^ 
from^hose of Germany; being «aere iUegit»* 
mate conniptions and perversinns of the pore-^ 
English, while our German dialeet« am diflerenft 
branches of the same Uuigoage» each poaaeaaing 
it» own peculiar beauties and partisans, iteowa 
organic life, its own literatai« and poetigr. 

.One of the gentlemen present al the muaiei^' 
toirie assnred me that he possessed a. gteat 
nuqiber of beautiful old poems in auKannorij^t, 
which had long been hereditary- in bis familf^: 
and of which not one had ever been printed. 
He, like many of his oountrymeii, was 6f opin- 
ion that the fragments of Oseianic poetry whioii 
Macpherson had given to the worlds were per«> 
verted and very impeHect specimens, and that, 
his poems could coo?ey no rent idea of the 
beauty and variety of the national Iiish poetry 
from which they were taken. This statement 
seems to me very probable, and ^e qneetion 
naturally presents itself, why no genuine tristt 
Macpherson, xealous both for troth and hi» 
country's fttme, comes for «ward to oq^^kA the 
precious relics of ancient Irish poetry« and by 
translating them into some modern It^nguagew^ 
to save what can be saved of the poetical trees- 



IRELAND. 



89 



me^ of sMent li'^luidl The iBanosenpoi, 
otnsflüfy and rett»i«dtiaHf preserved as they 
are, in the tmkHiien t» wtaieb tivej 'b^oag, ate 
yet beeomitkg dallf less and less nuiaerotis 
The memory of the peopie/haweireroorFectand 
faüibfill it liiay be, caufftot but giwlually falsify 
and lose some of the beauties of tlie originals. 
.The number also of those ^o can eajay these 
poettts in the anelent te^ngua is daiiy dhninish- 
inf, for the Englterfa language ie oontia«atly mar 
king more and more progress in Ireland, and 
ttprootit^g thedcmitotoii'of th'6 andient Iriedi. 

The Irish ctrntittvi^f aasare the stranger, 
that then* poeme are ^irite titttranstateble, and 
iireoid be «s tatal^)r epoHed by tranapknting into 
aiwitberUinguftige,asabe8atiftf)flower bf being 
c4»veved with a eea^ing of paint. No doabt, it 
ia<diffieult to cransftir from one tatigaage to an- 
other all «he delieme ai«ma »f poetry ; bat Mac- 
pters^ bas^howa<tfaat a mere fanitatien, thooffh 
aaaoradly an »tiperfect one, is aufficient to de- 
light ail Bm^fo. At «H etenta^ they oaght to 
be eeUeeted and prhMed In Irish. 

Social eatertainmetftti, auch aa that I was 
present at in Drogheda, «re amemg Hhe most 
dMfg^tüii a «iia«reBer ean enjc^; bat .they are 
reKes «>f a l^-gone age, and are bettomimg more 
and more oldfashlened. Many amasemeBts also 
ofiar netver ioventtoiKs are dymg away ia this 
part of the world, to t^e delight as often as to 
the regret «f the frien#a«f refinement and so* 
ctal otiltare. Tims poblie bsdto are becomtng 
tery im^omradn, race haBatveing the only kind 
stilt fashkAiable in Bngland. Car^Iaying ia 
aleo faHing more atld more Into diraae. Ten or 
twelve rears ago i^ few friends seldom met to- 
gether withottt the aitraevioh of the card-table. 
At pneaeüt cardpta^g is aAmoae entirely coR'' 
fined to professional gamblers, and to Ihe lower 
chiaaes. Cotirevsatioii is »ore and more taking 
the plaee af that pastime ao dastmctite to aii 
true seeiM ehjoymeflc, ttie never too mach to 
be condemaiedeardplayiiig. 

FROM DROGHEDA TO BiELFAST. 

The neict day ! again took my oaoal sevt on 
the stage-ooaah (br Belfast-^nätnaly, an otitaide 
plaee beside the eoacihman. Thi» seat, o« the 
coaehman^a box, is the moat aooght after of all 
o!itai#e pfecea m an EagKsh seageMsoach. It is 
much the most comfortable, hecanae, of eourse, 
more pains are taken to provide for theacoom- 
medatlon of so important a personage as the 
coachman than for that of hia inferiora, the pas«- 
aengera. The box is «»overeä vrith a soft etksh- 
idn, white the other outside seats are bare 
wooden benche». The coachman haaa leather 
covering to protect bis legs from- rain and cold, 
of which, if he is good>-tfatiired, he will gener- 
ally spare a corner for the traveller neitt him ; 
while the other oiitaide passengers may put their 
legs in their poeketa if they like, but can expect 
no fliTther accommodation for them. Then 
there are the fbnr fine-spirited English horses 
right before one, which alone fijmish inexhaust- 
ible aoarees€»f interest during the journey ; and, 
lastly, there is the grea$ potentate himself; the 
coachman, beside one, who knoivs alt about the 
pkiacs 9ne passes, and has plenty of anecdotes 
and jokes about every mansion, pari?, or village 
on the way.. If he should happen, by chance. 



toi>e« amiy Ibllew, of tacitmm disposition, llt^ 
tie inclined to answer the questions and satisf]^ 
the curiosity of the inquisitive traveller, the lat- 
ter may «derive a great deal of entertainment 
and information from watching, the ways and' 
movementa of the ** driver" himself. 

See how majesitic ao4 pompous looks the 
broad and comfortable stage-coaöhmanj upoi» 
his N'oad and isomibrtable box, and what a dig- 
nified and eommaadii^ air of superiority he as- 
sumes towards tkis passengers ! How respect- 
fully and hiimbly the wholevpablic behaves to- 
wards the great man who rules, wHh such csdn» 
aad undisputed away» four fiery and aipirited- 
horsea! 

The aart of drivipg four-in^iaad ia so favourita. 
a pursuit with the English, that the plaee of 
8tage*ooaohmaa is mostly fUled by a respectable 
man, one somewhat o( a superior class. He Wr 
well paid^ and oaa often, from the liberal perqui- 
sites received froia the paasengers, lay by amalt 
sums. He is thereforcr geaarally, tolerably well 
dnesaed, wearing an ample waterproof great-^ 
coat, of a light colour, buttoned up from top %o^ 
bottom, and is iavari^y^ly furnished with white 
leather gWves. He seats himself on the box» 
and the ostler ataads ready to hand up the reina^ 
the insignia of his office ; and at the end pf tha* 
joamey ha levies, ia lordly style, hia sixpenny 
tribute from the passeogera. He always under- 
stands every part of his business to perfection^ 
and aU their proceedings are carried on with aa^ 
astohiafaing regularity^ une^aHed iiA>ther coun- 
tries. The four horses are of so fine a ^ality» 
the harness so admirably simple and complete,, 
and kept ia auch perfect order, and the whole 
equipage is guided and directed with such nice- 
ty and rsipiwty by the slightest motions of tbe^ 
coachman's fiagersy that the outside passengec 
on an EngMsb atagefooach will find inexhausti- 
ble sources of entertainment in watching and^ 
inspecting dl this, and will, perhaps, feel muct^ 
inöjiqed to join in the laraentationa oft-en made 
by the coachmen and their partisans, over the 
present decltniag states of sta§e-coach travels- 
ling. 

For " 'tia true, 'tie pity, and pity 'tis, 'li» 
true," that the ^ noble pursuit" of stage-coach 
drivings aa I once heard it called in England, im 
fast losing its character of importanoe* aAd ia^ 
falling into the hands of a different set or people. 
The railroad aad the steamboat are continuaUgr 
advancing upon the territory of the stage-coach- 
man, aad depriviiig him of lus ancient conso«*' 
qoence in public estimation. The standard ot 
talents and qualificationa iiecessary for his sta- 
tion is lowering every day, and peers of the 
realm no longer dispute tlie palm of glory witl^ 
the stai^^qachman, and encourage hio^ to a 
noble emulation in feats of skill and danger. 

On one account, however, all friends of hu»- 
manity cannot but rejoice at thesi^ innovations ; 
for the furious driving of the old stage-^coacb^ 
men was a aystem of mo^t destructive cruelty 
to their splendid horses. The heartless princi* 
I^s which regulated their behaviour to the poof 
animals, led Uiem to regard these as mere ma->, 
chinesr to be used up in whatever way vrae 
most profitable to their masters. It is a regu*^ 
lar maxim of soma» that no horse waa 0t 7or 
use after four years' «tage-coach driving» fop 
that four years of that tremendous labour ren- 



90 



IRELAND. 



flrr<' I him fit for nothing elae bot to be bJd to 
;i hackney-ooächman, or to be Biftttghtered for 
<logs' meat. 

The lordly driver with whom I travelled from 
Drogheda to Belfast, was unfortunately of a 
taciturn and morose disposition, and I was 
thrown, consequently, entirely on my own re- 
sources for entertainment, and on my own ob- 
servations of his proceedings and of the country 
through which we passed. He did not even of- 
fer me what is really the vested right of the box 
passenger, namely, a corner of his leather, to 
protect me against the very temperate climate of 
Ireland, which asserted its total impartiality be- 
tween rain and sunshine, cold and heslt, by alter- 
nately wetting us through and drying us again, 
fireezing us and thawing us again, the whole way 
along. 

The remarkably mild and temperate climate 
<if Ireland is a frequent subject of national boast, 
jet it is certainly a most unsatisfactory sort of 
climate ; always damp and cool, though seldom 
w;et and cold, and never hot and dry. To be 
really warm once a year, one would willingly 
consent to be really cold once a year also ; bat 
to be uncomfortable the whole year, to shiver a 
little all the winter and do the same all the 
summer, is the most provoking kind of weathef 
possible. 

Drogheda and its environs are surrounded by 
a little range of hills, to which succeed wide 
plains, followed by another isolated range of 
hills near Newry and Dundalk. Then follows 
another plafh and then more hills, beyond Bel- 
fast. The first plain, between Drogheda and 
Bundalk, in the county of Lowth, presents but 
a dreary spectacle to the eye of the traveller. 
Lowth is the most northern county in the old 
kingdom of Leinster, and seems to have par- 
ticipated least of all in the English improve- 
ments introduced into that kingdom. Every 
thing looks so miserable, so truly Irish, the cab- 
ins of the peasantry are so wretched, the aspect 
of the cultivated land is so wild and dreary, and 
(he inhabitants so dirty and ragged, that only 
in the western part of Ireland had I seen any 
thing Hke them. The nearer one gets to the 
borders of Leinster the worse every thing seems 
to become. Dundalk itself, indeed, a clean and 
pretty little town of picturesque appearance, ly- 
pg on the shores of a small bay or inlet» forms 
an oasis in the wilderness, but the hills beyond 
Dundalk are as miserable-looking as any thing 
can well be, and reminded me of nothing so 
much as the »* hungry hills" of Kerry. The as- 
pect of these barren uplands is in the highest 
<legree wild and desolate. Except the fine, 
straight road itself, scarcely a trace of human 
industry is to be seen ; for tUe wretched huts 
scattered here and there among the hills look 
more like swallows' nests than human habita- 
tions. 

As we drove down the hills, the coachman 
Stopped to set something to right about his har- 
ness, and I got down and went towards one 
Cf these uninviting abodes. An Irish tinker sat 
before one of the cabins, busied in patching an 
old potato-kettle. A large hole had been burnt 
in its side, which extended so far down, that 
the kettle could never have been half full. I 
asked the peasant-woman, who was watching 
ibe tinker at his work, bow long the kettl^ had 



been in its present condition. ** Ah ! your hon- 
our, it's been so a long time," she replied. ** For 
the last year or two, whenever I boiled pota- 
toes I had to put the kettle awry on the fire, 
and not to fill it up. The tinkers seldom come 
near us, and then they're so expensive, we 
have tu get on as best we can without them, 
your honour." 

The tinkers in Ireland, as elsewhere, are a 
nomadic race, but here they are always ragged 
and wretched-looking. " They are rowers^ the 
tinkers," saj the Irish ; and if you ask an ex- 
planation 01 the phrase, tbey answer "Rowers* 
— ^that means they are always rambling about." 
I suppose, therefore, that in Ireland the word 
** rower," besides its common signification, is 
used to designate vagabonds or wanderers. 
The tinkers generally ramble about only during 
the summer, and are often accompaoied by their 
families, like our gipsies. In the winter they 
inhabit little mud-cabins, upon some great bog, 
where fuel is to be had tor little or nothing. 
Sometimes these mud cabins stand empty on a 
bog for a number of summers ; sometimes they 
are only built for the one winter, and fall to 
pieces wheq abandoned. 

On the. other side of these miserable hills, 
whose inhabitants are years before they can 
afiford to get the holes mended in their potato- 
kettles— the most indispensable and important 
article of furniture in an Irish cabin — the terri- 
tory of Leinster ends and that of Ulster begins. 
The coach rattled over the boundary line, and 
all at once we seemed to have entered a new 
world. I am not in the slightest degree exag? 
gerating, when I say that every thing was as 
suddenly changed, as if struck by a magician's 
wand. The dirty cabins by the roadside were 
succeeded by neat, pretty, cheerful-looking cot- 
tages. Regular plantations, well-cultivated 
fields, pleasant little cottage-gardens, and shady 
lines of tress, met the eye on every side. At 
first I could scarcely believe my own eyes, and 
thought that at all events the change must be 
merely local and temporary, caused by the bet- 
ter management of that particular estate. No 
counterchange, however, appeared; the im- 
provement lasted the whole way to Newry, and 
from Newry to Belfast every tbing still contia- 
ued to show me, that I had entered the country 
of a totally dififerent people — namely, the district 
of the Scottish settlers, the active atid indus- 
trious Presbyterians. 

I do not mean to say that the whole prov- 
ince of Ulster wears this delightful appearance; 
nor is the whole province of Ulster inhabited 
by Scottish colonists. It contains many dis- 
tricts, as I shall hereafter show, inhabited by 
the genuine Celtic-Irish race, and of those dis- 
tricts the aspect is as wild and desolate as that 
of any other part of Ireland ; but on crossing 
the border, the contrast between Irish Leinster 
and Scottish Ulster is most striking. It seems 
as if Leinster had pushed out tp her farthest 
extremity as much of her squalid Mnretched- 
ness as she could, while Ulster had settled upon 
her frontiers her best and most thriving popu- 
lation. Presbyterian Ireland greets with a tri- 
umphant smile the stranger who has just ukea 
a sighing farewell of Catholic Ireland. I have 



* Mr. Kohl probablj misaadentöod hi« infonnuit, whi^ 
BO dottbt, meaat town.-^Tr. 



IREIiAND, 



91 



read the accounts of many travellefB who cross- 
ed the froBtiers of Ulster and Leinster at other 
places, and they all give the same account of 
the striking contrast between the two provin- 
^es: I account for this circumstance in the fbl- 
lowing manner : 

It is well knoWn that ever since the conquest 
►of Ireland, 700 years ago, the English have 
^een endeavouring to accomplish the destruc- 
tion or amalgamation of the ancient Celtic race 
in heland ; and have used different means at 
•difi^rent times to bring about this consumma- 
<tion ; persuasion, education, proselytism, on 
the one hand, and violence, cruelty, banish- 
.ment, imprisonment, and death, on the other ; 
all have been employed for the accomplishment 
«of this design. A frightful history would be 
tdat of the exterminatory process in Ireland, 
«nd the system of warfare which the English 
«arried on for 700 years against the church, 
the language, the antiquities, the customs, and 
the institutions of Ireland. Well may Thomas 
Moore liken the fate of his unhappy country to 
that of the *'Sad One of Sion." 

-" Like them doth uur nation lie conquered and broken, 
And fallen from her head is the once royal crown ; 
.In her streetr, in her halls, Desolation has spoken, 
And while it is day yet, her aim ha» gon« down." 

Upon the province of Ulster the Scottish 
ipresbyterians always cast longing eyes, and en- 
tertained the desire, in common with their great 
chieftain, Cromwell, tb clear it of the Irish. As 
Cromwell saw that it was quite out of the qnes- 
tion to think of entirely exterminating the Irish 
race in Iceland, he determined at least to keep 
Ulster for his own settlers, and to force back 
the natives Into the wilds of Connaught and 
Leinster. Thousands of native Irish were ac- 
coi^dingly driven across the frontiers, with their 
goods and families, and thousands of pushing 
Scotchmen hurried acroiss the sea, to take pos- 
session of the lands to which they had no more 
right, than a pickpocket has to the watch he 
steals. The poor Irish naturally settled down 
a« near their old homes as they could, since if 
tHey went further they were sure to invade the 
possessions 'of other tribes, who would never 
let them settle in peace among them. On the 
other hand, the Scottish colonists found it ad- 
visable to settle many of their best settlers on 
their own side of the border, in order to keep 
out the expelled Irish. Thus, on the frontiers, 
the different characteristics of the Scottish and 
Irish races have always maintained the most 
striking contrast. 

Newry is a handsome town of a tolerable 
size, and throughout of very pleasing appear- 
ance. Its houses are pretty, its streets adorn- 
ed by rows of trees, and its bay is full of ves- 
sels. Here begins the flax and linen country, 
the spinning, weaving, and bleaching land ; 
and from Newry the farther north we go, the 
finer and choicer becomes the linen. The vil- 
lages of Banbridge and Moyallan are distin- 
guished for producing particularly fine flax. All 
these flax-growing and spinning places. Ban- 
bridge, Drömore, Hillsborough, and others, 
through which we passed, looked cheerful, pros- 
|>erous, and thriving, ,and seemed, as neat and 
. clean as the linen they produced. 

This branch of industry is of a p^ultar kind, 
.and when flourishing, it is about as desirable a 



one as any which a country can pursue, It 
employs a greater number of hands, and is more 
conducive to culture and refinement than most • 

other kinds of labour. First, there is the agri- 
cultural part of the business, which requires 
great skill and attention in the flax cultivator.' 
The cotton and silk trade furnish no employ- 
ment to the agriculturists of the north, because 
the raw materials are all brought from distant 
countries. The wool trade requires only the' 
coarse and lazy work of the shepherd, and is as 
much less conducive to refinement and culture, 
than the flax trade, as the shepherd is below the 
agriculturist in these points. The com trade 
employs only the rough hand of the field-labour- • 
er. Linen requires numbers of trifling but in- 
dispensable operations to its perfection, many 
of which are t<4erably secure from the innova- 
tions of modem machinery. Th^ first prepara- 
tion of the flax, for instance, and its conversion 
into a material fit ibr the spinning-wheel, will 
probably always remain in the hands of the 
peasant himself The spinning also of the flax 
remains longer in the bands of the peasant and 
his famHy than that of cotton. A flax-spinning - 
machine has indeed been discovered, which 
threatens to ruin some of the poor spinners ; 
but flax is a nobler production than cotton, and 
capable of being brought to greater perfection, 
and the finest deseriptions of yarn can never 
be spun by machinery, but must always re- 
main in the hands Of spinners. Just so with 
the weaving business. The beautiful smooth- 
ness and shining appearance of flax; combi- 
ned with its great durability and strength, en- 
able it to be wrought more skilfully, and to 
be more richly decorated than cotton. The 
beautiful damask-work, so often produced in 
flax and silk, can never be produced in cotton, 
for it requires the skill and independent spirit 
of invention found amongst the silk and linen 
weavers ; whereas in the cotton manufactories, 
the machinery everywhere employed leaves no . 
room for the exertion of human intelligence 
and invention, and requires nothing but passive 
obedience on the part of its labourers. The 
bleaching of the linen is, I believe, carried on 
by rich capitalists^ who take out patents for 
their chemical secrets ; yet I believe that the 
best and roost harmless bleaching machines 
will be found to be the old-fashioned, rain, wind, 
and sunshine. 

All the manipulations camried on with flax 
lind linen, are of a clean and delicate kind. 
Whiteness and fineness are the grand objects 
kept in view, and these objects are oonducive 
to a certain purity and refinement in the labour- 
ers themselves. Thus we find that a flourish- 
ing linen-trade is always favourable to the 
growth of order, cleanliness, and refinement 
among a people. What pleasant and poetical 
associations, too, are connected, in all times , 
and countries, with the pretty spinsters and 
bleaching girls of a flax-growing country ! 

The linen trade is also far more favourable, 
or rather less pernicious, to morality, than 
many other branches of commerce, because it 
does not open so wide a door to deceit and 
fraud, nor oflfbr temptations to all kinds of dis- 
honesty. Ijet any one think of the flour, tea, 
and Corn traders, and of all the adulteration, 
fraud, and gamMing that goes on among them. 



M 



IR£LAKD. 



The lines tra4e ocNtfi aever proBDoto ibe growUK 
of olasaes like tbe cheating miUei« and (he 
foresullers of corn ; for the linen ijring open to 
every body'« inspeotion» and amenable to every 
body's judgment, its fineoeae or coaraeneaa 
cannot be matter of deoeit. The boorish peas- 
ant, the rough thraeher, tbe Msbeating miUer, the 
avaricious baker, the bard-hearted forestaller 
of corn, are all so many branchee of the corn 
trade. The thoughtful flaxngrower, the singing 
spinster, the graceful bleachiog-maid, the indus- 
trious and attentive weaver, lbs Unen-dAajisr» 
honest in spite of himself, the^e are tbe classes 
• to whom a fleanshmg linen-trade alone lends 
support and eneouragement. The traveller, 
tbereiore, always takes pleasure in arriving io 
a ^ country, pertieularly where tbe trade is 
in a flourishing g«d thrivinf eenditiea. In tbe 
liaen district of nortbera Ireiand» bewever« 
Boglisb speculators^ I am sorry to say^ are ta- 
king more and mere of tbe business into their 
own possession» and tbe nmnufacture is pass- 
ing fBore and more out of the bands of the 
nambers of poor wofkfooplet into these of « : 
few great eapitaüsts. 

The Irish linen trade is ai very ancient date^ 
and was either brougbt over by the Seottisb 
colonists in tbe seventeenth century, or has 
been carried on in Ulster sinee time oamemo- 
rial. Soelland sftill onanniaotnres as' mocb lin«- 
en as Ireland« but does not export as much. 

Aimost all the little towns throtfgh which we 
drove thai evening were lit up with gas. It is 
wonderful what progress this important new in- 
vention has made m these tslaiids. In Ger- 
ma^f, a gi«at city is very proud of being dts^ 
tingttisbed by ga»>ligbis, in the British islands 
scareely a tawn can be pointed out wbieh is 
without t^em-. 

At length we arrived at tbe central point of 
a]} tbe gas-ligbts of northern lr<dand, the een- 
tral point also of the great linen manuibetare«— 
at tbe tbiek cluster of hooses and inhabitams 
which Irish flax has knotted together at Bel* 
fast. I thought at first tbat it muBt be some 
gmit festival, for whersver I looked, on every 
side, I saw great bouaesi^ four, five, and six 
stories htgb, illutnünated from top^ to bettom. 
There were even buildingSvWilbitt which iigbta 
glittered from one bondred and two bnai^rtNl 
windows. Yet all this was but the «verf^day« 
on mtber, every-nigbt, «ppealmioo of ft gtent 
mannfaeturing cüy^ 

MSLFAOT AND iTS LllteW M A^JPA«- 
TOUIES. 

In the year 1821 B^ast ooiUaiaed 37,000 is- 
. habitants, and in tbe year 1831, 63y00e. Tbas 
in ten years she added thirty per cent« to her 
population ; an increase without parsdiel in Ire- 
land. This great and flourislong city, with aU 
its houses and inhabitants, stands all upon the 
territory of one proprietor, the Marquis of Done- 
gal, to whom the whole town belongS) and to 
wbc»Q every citizen pays tribute. Two hun- 
dred and fiily years ago» while this city was 
still an obscure and insignifieaat little village, 
James I. presented the barony of Belfast to Sir 
Arthur Chichester, in reward for seme trifling 
«ervioes io Ireland, little dreaming of the im- 
portance which this estate would eventually as- 



sume, and tbe iaexbanatible Bonroe of weaHb it 
wouki be to bis descendants. The preeem 
manittis would deiive, it is said, a revenue of 
je300,000 from this town ak^ne, were it not tbait 
a former owner deteriorated tbe property, bgr 
grantiafr long leases at nominal rents; from 
which improvidence, however, tlie city iteetf 
derives great benefit.' 

As the Hnen manufacture and linen trade an^ 
the life and soul of Belfast, they naturally firs^ 
attract the attention of every traveller arriving; 
there. Tbe bnen-ball, a large 4)uadrangttlar 
building, erected towards the close of the last 
centnry, is the great centie of attraction. BUhf»* 
almost aü the linen of northern Ireland destinefi 
for eaoportatiop, ia brougbt together and sorted», 
or *' made up and dressed," to suit tbe seveml 
markets^ for which it may be destined. Eaojb* 
firm of importance has its cettpting-hous» and 
warehouse in this place, and a walk tltfou|^> 
the hall is therefore full of interest and iostfoa* 
tion for the curious stranger. 

Linen is exported from Belfast to London, t0 
Spain, to Brazil, to the United States, to Britisb 
America, and lately also to China. Every mar- 
ket is partial net «^ly to some particular kinds 
of linen^ but alee tc partioalar ways of packing» 
and particuhur external decorations to the par- 
ages. The plainest packages go to London. 
At tbe London market no ornamented' packages 
are saleable^ and every decoration of tbe line» 
wouki only awaken a suspicion of its quality. 
At tbe same time the Londoners are very par- 
ti^lar about the quality of their linen, and con» 
sequently London always receives the finest 
linen in the plainest packages. An opulent lin- 
en-merchant of Belfast, who had tbe goodness 
to show me his store and counting-house in tbe 
linen-hall, related to me how the above rule bad 
been once inadvertently neglected by bis houte;. 
a bale of linen having been sent to a London 
liaendraper, of wkich each piece bore some tri- 
fling • ornament on the outside, a few silver 
threads draiwa through the band, or something 
of that kind. This inadvertence limmediate^ 
drew forth a- mnrmur from the London shop- . 
keeper, who demanded a trifling deduction from 
the invoice» perdy on account of these orna- 
mental, attegiflg that be had not ventured u>> 
produce the lioei^ thus decorated before bis cus- 
tomers, and bad' the trouble of packing it alt 
afifesh. This very precise London shopkeeper 
possessed only .£500 sterling at that time» but is 
now worth £300,000, partly probably on account 
of bis aecurate knowledge of tbe whims and 
predilections of his London customers. 

The North American market forms a strong 
contrast to that of London ; for the linen in- 
tended for the former, cannot be too highly dec- 
orated. It is made up in papers of the gayest 
colours« and is decorated with stamps of birds, . 
flowers, 6lc., which stand out prettily from the 
snowy linen. " American linen must be more 
dnessed,'* said my friend. Tbe whole, of South . 
America, from Mexico to Brazil, is accustomed 
to German linen, and the Belfast speculators 
are therefore always eager to give the linea. 
they intend for Santa Cruz, R^o Janeiro, Per- 
nambuco, ^c", a German appearance. They 
I imitate tbe exterior decoration of the Swis» 
and German linen; particularly the Prussian 
eagle with outspread wings. "£very mairkot 



IRELAND. 



lias its wliim,'* is tne motto of the Belfast mer- 
«himt. A great «deal ^ bmm is enpmiei} t^ 
Hamhtifg, oniy to be re^^i^^cA siii geftvnii^ 
> German hneit ; tat Ünei» i being otkeapeF in £elt 
faai tbftii in Hambnrg, andinu doty being chart 
fed upon Ar it is worth the cual of traaspert to 
'perauade the South Americans that the Ger-* 
man-stamped linen which they deceive fron^ 
iOermany is real German prodnce. This fake 
stamping is not called cheating, hot only giving 
the linen a dress. 

Many of the BeUast flas-miHs baye a Ymea-i 
HMai^ing estabtisbaaent ponneoted with them, 
«ad «he two together are called! a Lraen<-yarn 
iictoFy. During the last forty yeacs many 
«otton faetoriea bav« also «prung op in difier- 
«at parts of Beirat, which now oontaina in all 
ifwentyH^ne great cotton and Imemyam* facto- 
«ie% aome of iMfenob. employ two tbonaand la- 
%6iiPerB, and are carried on in imoMoae hadd- 
Vig» eight storiea high. 

A gveat deal a€ the Bel^Mt: liaen n atäl wo- 
ven ai hand-kMMfns ia the cottages of ithe peas- 
antry, but powar-'toom wcaTtHig^ or that of ma- 
•ehineiy, is more and «more :trenching:on their 
^OBsaias. The naeJancboly, Steele between 
4be baad^oom and tbe powervlodm, which in 
Sflgfamd has already terminated ia >&irottr of 
4flNi iUMter, is slill going on at %lfi»t. 

The spinning (^ flax by raaehinepy was long 
a difficult problem to the mveaAFve heads of 
English, mechanicians^ This process was ranch 
«sore difficult titan that of waol or ootton spin- 
aiag, because the flax consisted' of a nmrAyerof 
kkng single smooth (ibres^ which were not ao 
•easily spun in«e «88b)e materials as the ahoarter; 
and- more coaneoted thneoda of cotton ami wool. 
At length it was proposed^ to «pass the flax. 
^Anroegh warm water prexious to apiniMig it. 
IThia process spbts, ciirla, a«Mt entangles . the 
IHires, which are then eisily spua into a longi 
-eonaeoted^ thread. Thas, bgr ivirann water, the 
maaufacturere are enabled te <lo witfiottt <lhe 
irasy and delicatei^Mad of üheepinniag^girl, and 
«eDe apinner can nowy alpa! aupeekitMid aoa- 
•ehinea which do Hie wevk of fifty-fiiuFraptnniaii^i 
wheels at onoe. Thus aH the mearnj^ whiniag 
Jhde spinning'Wheels, vkmk, eao« ealwreaed 
ibe firesides of Uflste«, are. aheorhed iatOFa iewj 
gigantic, noiey^ senealesa machines,, and the 
aundreda o£ snof^ cosylütle apinningHaoeraa, 
«nllvened by «he^heecftil iroieaB »£ tl» singing 
epinners, are tamed uito. mast teiary halls, 
llilfhted up with long rows ef^gaa^iBthin which 
Hbe watchM^ ^e of the inspector maintBinß 
l^rpetual dveary^ aHeaee I and «beöiesa actiTity . 

T4ie.bleaohar»are notbetitar nfliilban the spin- 
Aera. Chemistry has oisde suoh rapid' prog» 
«eae^ ias to ofibr cheaper and> mana eaqwditiiras 
as^thadBiof bleaching thaajaagi:' «hieb tbe eeftta^ 
g^r ean poreae. Oveed^ «pendalien^ emer on 
file watch, darts. Uftm these nmthoda ia. bnder 
lio get the work done anireeheapiy^-oamihiniag 
"tbelaboar of numbers ufaiagieiioHBahnids into 
a few' great eltablishments. The neigbboor- 
bood of ' Belfast conteins many largsi establish- 
ments of this kind, one of which I waited. 
Th^ are eaited" bleaebing g^ronnda,*' ear *^ Iini> 
•en- greens,'* and conaistef immense faottoriee, 
eix' stories high» situated im tha midatiO£ üaie 
laiige mead9wa, and aurroandedntay bleaching^ 
worka and laboarara* hut». Tlieae ' 



grounds he on a beautiful rising ground, which 
siratebes» along at tihe fina of a tolembly eteep 
tine of. hills, and neatiy eaifraands Belfast. l%e 
water which streams down plentifa% from 
thfese hilbf end is neVier soaree here at any 
time of the year, is found very nsefol in the 
bleachit»g process. The Belfost bleaching is 
so mnoh admired in England, that Belfbst 
bleachers hare been fetched over .to carry on 
their peculiar methods in the English bleaching 
grounds, bat they have never been able to 
equal, in whiteness and durability, the linon 
bleaehed at BctfeAt. Feihaps the peculiar 
cbapgeid^e climate of noithem Ireland may 
have sooiething to do with this. ^ 

I had scarcely any idea, beiere I saw theah 
liaen^greena, what a various and complicated 
apparatus of buildingv^ manhines, and ehemieal 
preparationa were necessary to the perfCNStion 
of so simple an operation aa timt (tf bleaehlng. 
The bleaching art is ^carried to snob pedection 
on the linenfgsieens of Belfast, that a large 
qnantity of vaw ainen caa be got weady mim- 
and«rweaty bours. iSoeh extreme rapidity ie, 
of oooirse, not vary good for the linea,'hut ander 
pariieular cirenmaianees it may be useful at 
mice tecommefeeand humanity ; as in the case 
of gteat fire^tike these ef New* York and Ham- 
urg, wben it ia neoeeaary toaupply'a great and 
Madden denacid in a very short time. The Bel- 
fast btoacher» are also able tc prodaee, fey dll^ 
ferent kind» of ebcaiieal appliances, varions 
shades and degreea /of white. They bleach the 
linen blue-white, pink-wbite, dead-white, pea«l- 
white,or snow-white« accer^g as tliese differ- 
ent tints are aoveinreqaest wilh:theireusloo!- 
ers. The number. of chemical preparatimis re- 
quired in theae bleaebing gvnonds asteniriied 
me. Theve^ is (be '^ wheat i^arch-'^ made m 
Ireland, and ihe »bleacbiag b^ukl, prepared' m 
Seotiand, and the '«Mae,*^ bMR^ht nrom Livet^ 
pooi; and the vitidsi^ for miKbig with (be water, 
fhere aire difibreaA anachiaea for soaking 'the 
Jiaen.in att thaaadiflbrent sabstaaoes^. and^ o«fe- 
erimaebmeefbr cieanaiDg the linen again aftar 
it» aoakinga. Then ithere ate bleing,-starefaing; 
wringing^ and beetktng «mflchines, the 4ast of 
whieli is used fl>r giving the linen its final 
gloss. This gloss even, has many varietiea. 
Tbesa^ is the; higb^ioiahed gloaa, th» soft^finisb'- 
ed s^esa, and äie German-ifinialked ^osa ^ det 
oeivia^ the tSentb Araeniöansi Then.tbei^ arb 
the atarapaigiihouaeav where a. watery' appeMt 
anoe ia given Up «he linea after beeiHbg ; and 
tbedryiaJsMMiuea, wfacre^ ilaeeeasaityi, «heaiaed 
can be dried by .mttfioial heat. Everything 
aeamai sa complete, 4hair*all posaital» waat» and 
eiDergenaieaaye.prairidadilnrvand Dbs **wbima'* 
of every market in the^werid entirely eatisfted. 

A great dealoCiteedamaak ieoow^mamifa» 
tared at-^Beflfbat, aad the l^al Bolfastem' aw 
net a little ^roudof the felt itot their dama^ 
is used) at the.iable of her most« graeioa» aia|>* 
est^i hersiäl 

SHnoe «he Ibien aianufaetura hea> given ao 
mach importance te tbia city, iminv otbar 
branche» of* oammeme and indastry have^ of 
«»amet apimag ap tb sopplgr the wanta aad 
sbai« thetproeperity of the linen nsanatactarenu 
Theae aubordioate bnaaehea of indaatry^ bviii 
beei enonunagedi by jadieiona^ phflanHinopi^ta^ 
who fearedttbait jfiiBhamhcde aotiiity, prospevi^ 



94 



IRELAND. 



iff and very existeoee of the Nortb Imh popa< 
latton were based upon this one occupation of 
linen-making, that prtisperity must be precari- 
ous, and liable to he fatally affected by triTiai 
or accidental occurrences, and who were, there- 
fore, very anxious to direct some of the talent 
and activity of the population into other chan^ 
nels. There are now numerous and flourishing 
iron works, glass-works, and white-lead works 
at' Belfast. One branch of industry, which 
used at first to puzzle roe extremely, was that 
of the " philosophical instrument-makers," of 
' whom there are, indeed, plenty in other parts 
of the British islands, but whose name I first 
heard in Belfast. They are the makers of 
chemical, mechanical, and scientific apparatus 
of all kinds ; for in England all the physical 
sciences are included under the general term 
" natural philosophy." 

Perhaps the most remarkable fact in the in- 
dustrial history of Belfast, is that no printing- 
press was ever brought into the city before the 
year 1696. In barbarous Russia, therefi»re, 
printing was used more early than in this Brit- 
ish city. Yet Belfast was the town in which the 
first Bible ever printed in Ireland was published 
in 1714, and where the oldest Irish periodical, the 
'* Weekly Magazine," was originally established . 
Germany, therefore, has many older periodicals 
than Ireland. There are now seven newspapers 
published at Belfast, all more or less liberal in 
politics, and all hostile both to the Tories and 
the Church, of England. 

The Presbyterians of northern Ireland, rose 
"«llith the Catholics of the south, in the memora> 
ble Irish rebellion which took place at the end 
of the last century ; they fought no less zealously 
against the English troops, and watched with 
no less triumph the progress of the French rev- 
olution. The republican or democratic tenden- 
cies of the northern Protestants, are quite as 
strong as those of the southern Catholics ; yet 
the two parties are no friends, on the contrary, 
under particular circumstances, they are the bitr 
tnrest enemies. 0*Connell and his party are 
, less popular in Belfast than in any other Irish 
to«ii; and on all the agitation-tours and tri- 
umphal-progresses, which the great man so often 
makes through the cities, towns, and villages of 
the Emerald Isle, he takes good care never to 
eome near Belfast. Once indeed it is said that 
he gladdened with the light of his countenance 
the few feeble partisans he possessed at Belfast ; 
but he slunk in at night in a small unpretending 
ear, and made haste away again, early the next 
morning, befbre the opposite faction ccrald hear 
of his arrival. I heard an amusing anecdote at 
Belfast, how the great musician, Liszt, when he 
▼isited the city, was unluckily mistaken for 
O'Connell, and was very near suffering in con- 
sequence. As Liszfapproached in a large post- 
chaise drawn by four horses, some of the over- 
zealous protestants of Belfast inquired respect- 
ing the traveller, and were told that he was 
some very great man, nobody exactly knew 
who ; they immediately took it into their heads 
that he was O'Conneil. A mob collected, stop- 
ped the carriage, cut the traces, and pulled out 
the astonished great man, in order to cool his 
aupp«isp^ patriotism in true Irish fashion, bv a 
go<Hl ducking in a neighbouring pond. Luckily? 
^^'Ver, they discovered in time that they had 



got bokl of a young foreign artist, instead of tbe- 
bulky old agitator they were looking for. 

It is one of the great misfortunes of Ireland 
that her various parties have not a single point 
of agreement between them, or a sin^e int^- 
est or sympathy in common, to unite them in- 
zeal for the good of their common cou ntry . AU 
who live on the soil of Erin are indeed Irish, 
and must desire the prosperity of their mother- 
country. The descendants of the original Celts 
and the old Scotch and English settlers, the 
Catholics, Presbyterians, and High-churchmen,. 
the poor tenants, the citizens, and the great land- 
owners, all have alike been Irish for many gen- 
erations. The name of Erin is dear to them all, 
the happiness of Erin is desired by them all, the , 
degradation of Erin is lamented by them all. 
They all carry on a sort of opposition against 
the pretensions of England; the old Irish Cath- 
olics against every thing *' Saxon," the Presby- 
terians against the Tories and the- Establish- 
ment. The Irish Presbyterians also cherish 
rather a hostile feding towards the mother^kirk 
of Scotland, whicK sometimes presumes to at- ' 
tempt the exercise of a little parental authority 
over the Irish synod. In the same way the Irish 
Episcopalians are by no means always in har- 
mony with those of England, and the interests 
of the Irish cities and manufactures are ccm- 
tinoally clashing with those of the sister island. 
The great Irish n(»bility also have by no mean8< 
a common sympathy with those of England. 
The Irish nobleman is quizzed in England, and 
the English nobleman railed at in Ireland. All 
this would lead one to suppose that a fine, pow- 
erful, unanimous opposition to English enrroacb- 
ment must develope itself in Ireland, and that 
against the common enemy all parties would 
join hands in patriotic union, as would be the 
case in France for instance. However high 
party spirit may run in France; the moment a for- 
eign enemy appears, all Frenchmen are brothem. 

In Ireland, on the contrary, whenever the 
common foe and oppressor, England, appears, 
she always finds numbers wiHing to sacrifice pa- 
triotism to party spirit, and even sometimes to 
give up part of their own interests to preserve 
the remainder, and to injure their fellow-ooun> 
trymen of other sects and parties. Thus, be- 
fore the Union, the Irish landowners snfifered 
many losses from the restrictions under which 
Irish commerce laboured : yet they did not try 
to get these removed, for fear of losing the su|k 
port of the crown in retaining their insecure 
property. Thus the Irish parliament felt, in- 
deed, the gallmg nature of the authority often 
exercised over it by that of EngUind ; but it 
practised a passive obedience, for fear of losing 
some of its exclusive privileges. Thus the 
Presbyterians and Catholics are both opposed to 
the encroachments of the English church and 
the Protestant aristocracy, but the^r hate each 
other too intensely ever cordially to join against 
either. * 

Thus the interests of no two Irish parties 
run parallel to each other, and, though all are 
to a certain degree hostile to England,, their 
hostility to one another is a great Ueal more 
fierne and inveterate. The inhabitants of Ire^ 
land think and feel so differently on all the most 
important subjects which can interest mankind, 
religion, politics, education ; and their judgment 



IRELAND. 



«16 



on all these subjects is perverted by so many 
contending interests, t,hat it seems almost im- 
possible to imagine that any remedy for the 
evils which afflict their country, if it be wel- 
comed as a healing medicine by some, shall not 
be rejected as a deadly poison by others., Is it 
proposed to build ,poor- bouses and levy poor- 
rates 1 The Presbyterian is pleased, because 
he hopes to get rid of the beggars ^d alleviate 
some of the squalid wretchedness around him, 
but the Catholic, whose religion enjoins fre- 
quent almsgiving, is naturally averse to a re- 
form which will tax him twice over. Is the 
establishment of schools the question 1 The 
Catholic will have no Bible at all, the Protest- 
ant insists on the whole Bible. Is the drain- 
ing of the bogs debated 1 The landlords are 
willing, but the peasantry will not lose their 
■ turf-cuitirig privileges. Is the cultivation of 
the barren mountain wastes called fori The 
farmers second the motion, bnt the great lords 
will not give up the free pasturage for their 
sheep. Is the lowering of the oppressiye tithes 
discussed t The Catholic priests are willing 
enough, but the Church obstinately shakes her 
head. x 

It is very difficult even to conjecture when 
these differences and party animosities are t(i 
cease in Ireland. The Catholics have so many 
wrongs still to be redressed, and' so much to 
demand back of the Protestants, and the latter 
are still in possession of so many unjust privi- 
leges, and so many stolen goods, that it will he 
very long before the Catholics are satisfied, and 
the Protestants just. The great landlord^ have 
not yet taken a step towards redressing the 
real grievances of their tenantry, and an equi- 
table partition of their immense estates has 
never yet been thought of When we reflect 
on all these fertile causes of ctmtention, still 
at work in Ireland, we are almost^ tempted to 
believe the mournful prophecy of Moore*8 de- 
mon, 

" When will thin end, p Powen of Gk>d V 
She weeping ask« fur erer. 
But onlr hears from oat that flood. 
The demon answer, '* Never !'* 



The religious differences of Ireland naturally 
attract the traveller*8 attention, particularly at 
Belfast, for at this town he encounters an en- 
tirely new denomination, namely, the Presby- 
terian. The three religions of Ireland, the 
Catholic, the Episcopalian, and the Presbyte- 
rian, correspond to the thr^^e different races 
who compose its inhabitants. The descend- 
ants of the original Irish are the Catholics, 
those of the English settlers, the Episcopalians, 
and those of the QcuUish settlers, the Presby- 
terians. 

The principal. seat of episcopacy in Ireland is 
Dublin, where the Episcopalian university is 
situated ; but the Episcopalian ministers reign 
as masters in every part of the island. Belfast 
is the principal seat of Presbyterianism ; it is 
there that their general assemblies are held, 
and that their Moderator, the head of the Pres- 
byterian Church, resides. The Catholics have 
no such central city, although many of the great 
towns in Ireland, Cork, Gal way, and Drogheda, 
for instance, are very Catholic. 

The Presbyterians oi^ Ireland form a particu- 
lar church, planned on the model of that ot 



Scotland, and called the Presbyterian Churcb 
of Ireland, or Ulster. This church was found- 
ed in the year 1642, and is therefore just 20O 
years old. At different times schisms and rec- 
onciliations have taken place within this church,, 
as in the Scotch Kirk. These schisms were 
principally caused by the command of the Gen* 
eral Assembly, which had retained* all the strict . 
orthodoxy of Calvin and Knox, that all Presby- 
terian ministers should sign the Confession of 
Faith drawn up by the Presbyterian council at 
Westminster, in the year 1644. This Confes- 
sion of Faith ^as, perhaps, the most rigidly 
Calvirtistic creed ever subscribed to by any 
church. As many ministers refused to sub- 
scribe to this creed, and wished to leave every 
one the right of free ipterpretation of the Scrip- 
tures, a schism took place in 1740, which divi- 
ded the Irish Presbyterians into Seceders, or • 
Nonsuhscribers, and Subscribers or orthodox 
Calvinrsts. At the head of the latter stood the 
Great Syiiod of Ulster, and of the former the 
Secession Synod. In the year 1840 these syn- 
ods reunited into a General Assembly. A few • 
congregations only have remained in separa- 
tion, and are governed by particular synods of 
their oWn. The chief of these is the Reform- 
ed Presbyterian Synod of Ireland, consisting of 
four presbyteries, or twenty-six congregations», 
and maintaining, the principle of nonsubscrip- 
ti(m to creed. At the yearly assembly of 1840» 
five of these congregations separated again 
from the Reformed Synod, and form a little 
community of their own. 

The members of this little community are 
almost all Unitarians, who reject the doctrine 
of the Trinity, and worship none save God the 
Father. The Lord Jesus Christ they regard a» 
the Son and Prophet of God, the divinely ap- 
pointed and inspired Saviour, who redeemed 
mankind from the evils of sin and superstition. ' 
The Holy Ghost is regarded by them as a figu- 
rative expresskm, signifying the holy influence 
of the Divine Spirit. On all these points the 
Irish Unitarians are perfectly agreed ; concern« 
ing minor points their rejection of creed allow» 
of difiTerences of opinion. These Unitarians 
have far' less resemblance to our German Ra* 
tionalists than we in Grbrmany are apt to fancy. 
** None of us maintain that form of rationalism 
which Paulus, Ammon, and Strat^ss preacb 
among you." said a respected Ui^itarian minis» 
ter once to me ; *' although, indeed, the writings 
of those men are read by some of us." He was 
certainly in the right; a German Rationalist 
and an English Unitarian are two very differ^ 
ent beings. 

On the other hand, as the too great strict^ 
ness of the Westminster creed caused the se» 
cession of some congregations, other congrega-^ 
tions did not find it strict enough. The differ- 
ent subscribing Presbyterians could not agree 
about the form of subscription ; some signed it 
with this proviso : »• We subscribe to the West- . 
minster Confession of Faith, as far as it m 
founded on the Holy Scriptures, and agreeable 
to their doctrines." Others, more rigid in their 
orthodoxy, were shocked by th4s proviso, and 
withdrew to form stricter Presbyterian bodies 
of their own Of these are the Covenanters» 
who have thirty-five congregations in Ireland,, 
and the Anti-bounty Seceders, who have nine 



96 



JRKLA.ND. 



or ten ; tb/6ae confreg^tiona hold tbeiqaelv^s 
•tridly alooC (Vom tfi& rest of the Fresbyterjans. 
In all, there are now 490 Presbyterian con- 
gregations in Ireland, which are divided into 
»rty presbyteries. The whole Presbyterian 
population amounted, in the year 1834, to 
^48,000 souls, but now exceeds 800,000. The 
whole province of Ulster contains about two 
millioa five hundred thousand inhabitants ; a 
third, therefore, of the entire population con- 
sists of Presbyterians. The Unitarians have 
ü}tiy congregations, or " societies," consisting 
^of 4^,000 souls. In Belfast, the proportion of 
the three principal denominations is estimated' 
<as follows : 



Epifcoiwli« 
Otta«rite» 



. 18,300 

. . i,ioa 
WJöb 



Tik» most t^ematkfMe fi^tniie in the presby te- 
<cian charoh is its zeal for missions and raakii^ 
proselytes, sod this zeal has very much increased 
. «of late years, since the great reconciliation of 
1840. Tliey have a foreiig« mission, whose office 
it is to send out missionaries to convert the 
Jieatheo in distant .countriesj a Jewish mission, 
which " labours, amonf the seed of Abraham for 
^he everlastinif Gospel," and a home mission, 
which is more interesting Ukan all the rest put 
together. This home mission has three principal 
objects; firstly, to promote the building of 
churches in the north of favoured Ulster; sec- 
ondly, to revive decayed congregations and es- 
tablish new ones in the south and west of Ire- 
Htid ; and thirdly, to ]H«achf the Gospel in the 
Irish tongue, to those to whom- English still re- 
fBSios a foreign language. 

These subjects ai« all so Mghly interestlBg, 
«fd so new to us, that I will here fvre a short 
««Qonnt of the- home missiion^ asgiiren in '< Mac 
<)omhc*s Christian Renembraneer for HMS^" 
and' wül repeat the s^tement nearly ia that 
fEentlenanfs oiwn<wonds, which are^hsrac^ristic 
«f t)M>«nnioas and principtea of Ahe pnatoyte- 
ijaas. B!e' leils ns tbat^ 

'^ Sinee its pnciftealiion atidf mn^vation, the 
fp«i$hyferian chiirch o£ Iifkiand has never lost 
isi^t of* the idear of e¥angali0iog Iiel4»id>, U is a 
Kmvy-eiiooiMiaiSiogvfaot, lihat; the goeat «vertioBF 
^ «he ohnrob In Indian and among ithe Jews, 
lia^^jFatber lended. to «itrengthen th^ip to seiaz 
~tbn*aotivaty eC ner homie operatfone. The n»s- 
sionasy» system of this chnnch has only been ia 
«pe/a^n fou thirty yoais^and every year has 
tended to- increase its activity and resources ; 
hmi^e laboi^^.oJT the lasi two years have been 
crowned' with a signal success, whicl» is chiefly 
to be attribute to the reconciliation of the se- 
cession synod with the synod of Ulster. 

*' thei* are still in out favoured Ulster a few 
neglected; dtsilücts, where the blessings of the 
gospel cannott» enjoyed with Jhe requisite con- 
Tentence by the presbyterian population ; and 
thus manay' immortal sotjls have remained' in 
^tfrkfless, ih Ae midst of a flood of gospel »jfht. 
The formation of new congregation«, the build- 
ing of dinrches, and tue anpc^btteent of miniis^ 
ters, ate the points to which the attemion of the 
sdfisslofl'h&sheen fartieufhirfy* directed, and never 
l^as a more signad bles^tig rested «poa the 
iMhoQift of amy elinreh. 

^'In a period of ten fottr^» the mwiber of con- 
«ftygaUoBa has dovUecl, and some ni the sound- 1 



est and healthiest congregations of Ireland have 
been produced by this system. ThO' work In- 
creases every year in importance and ma^niioile. 
No less than fifty congregations in the north of 
Ireland now receive pecuniarr support from the 
mission, and only deven of these ai« still with- 
oat ministers. 

" The immediate pressing necessity Ibr the 
second object of the mission, namely the revival 
of decayed coagtegations, is sufficiently evident. 
In all tae principal towns of soathem Indaad, 
and even in soise of the couniiy districts, pres- 
byterian eharches formerlv existed ; but during 
the last fifty vears manyoflhese havegradoallj 
decayed, ana some entirely vanished. We also 
find in the south of Ireland,' aingle p/esbytet^n 
finmuies scattered over Ü» country« and even in 
towns, many of which ai» upwards ol seventy 
miles from the aeain^t^ moesbyt^an minister. 
The southern division (^ the Eou^ Misaion, 
tjliereforci make« tho restoration of the light the 
object of its ejceitioos. At Cork, Clonmd, Ath- 
lone, Gal way, Carlos and other important 
poets, v^ere very promising oiongEegations now 
exi^ this object may be considered to have been 
accomplished. 'V^e have every reaion to believe 
that by the establishment of these congregations 
in the dark regions of this Christian coontiy, 
much good has already been done; not only he- 
cause many precious soul^ will thereby be 
trained and fitted for a state of immortal glory 
and happiness, but because perpetual witnesses 
to the truth wiH thereby be estaWfehed in the very 
midst of the darkest superstition and- infidelity. 
" During the last eight momlis ifhe good worfc 
has particularly prospered in the hands of the 
two missionaries, Simpson and Knox. Thvongh 
their instnrmentaMty many Very promising open- 
ings have been made, and congregations ham 
been formed at Wexfond, New Ross, and ottier 
places. Ac Tralee, Kiilani^, Milltown, aad 
Bandon, the efibrts of the church have also been 
crowned with blessinfK ; but tfa^ work of the dia- 
semk>a«ion of ovaagdieal trttth wiUi neveü he 
perfectly carried on till every presbyterian aniL 
every prote&tant ofovery cr^d has the triumph 
of the gospel truly at neärt. Only those who 
have visited' the nboFenained places in their be- 
nighted condiliOtt, and' know how pi^found was 
the gloom under which they lahouned, can Wf 
estimatß-the imporianoe and urgency of tlie mi- 
dertaking. 

"Perhaps the most importan)t of all the ob- 
jects of the Home ÄPssiop, howejrcr, is th^ 
preaching of the ^oa)el to that 9a rl of thi^ Iris(i 
population which sfiOl speaks and utaderstanda 
litue else than Iri-s^u It' concerns neariV a ihfrÄ 
of the entire popjdation of Ireland, ana yet for 
this vast numbcir of immdtta« sout*, evfen iSpe 
protesunt church has as yet Äown Witte or no 
sympaiby. By a great iiutnber the EUgNsh Itt^i. 
guage is scarcely understood, and yet HNhei^ 
no attempt h^ft^en made to eoorvey instruction 
tn them through any other medium; Th« pnen. 
bvterian chur^ ha^j however, lately detäMained 
to bestbw the^esi^ings of the gospel oo' che Iriah 
people in «heir own langlie^, andihe fiailowing 
are the means propef«d- for ih4$ be»afioaM;obMCt 
*' The first istfaat of pMnching in ihe Irish ian*> 
guage. This has long been a pious wish in oar 
country, and It hae at> last faeoomie poasiM« tß 
carrv k into «<oeotion. ' Dorihr <^ last ysear 
the venerable Henipy M* Menus, who apeatei tht 
f»voui€telan|i«age of hisconQtPvi9w»>with#reat 
fluency and boMty^haa travelled aiitmi^eq^ 



IRELAND. 



97 



•«Aei« praeching the word of Ghid. He has de- 
livered di&ouanses at Galwav, 8Hgo, GliAoD, 
Westjporit Dnimcornwick, Brickhill, Bujrle, 
«od other places in the west; and his reception 
was everywhere so Uvourable, and the eager- 
ness of the people to hear him was ^o great, that 
we may be permitted to enteilain the bope that 
the appoinied day of grace for our country has 
at length arrived. 

"The second is the erection of Irish schools. 
There are about 3,000,000 of Irish who still 
speak the Irish language and love it as their 
mother tongue. In the year 1818, a Bible was 
^printed in Irish by the British Bible Society, 
and the work then begun, by dissemiuating the 
Holy Scriptures to the Irish« population, has 
Tjpened into the present system of instruction. 
The schools established are of a very simple 
kind, and can be quickly increased to almost 
any amount. A suitable person is chosen as 
teacher in every district where a school is want- 
ed; the scholars are the neighbours of the teacher 
lor two or three miles round. They meet alter- 
nately at each other's houses for instruction 
«very evening, after the day's work is over, and 
on tne Lord's day, morning and evening. They 
begin by sfMiling and reading in a little spelling- 
book, which has been written and printed for 
. them, and when they have iearm this book by 
iiaart, a portion of the Scriptares ia pot into 
their hands. They then contiooe studying the 
Word of God, nntil they are able to read it 
^easUy and fluently, while they learn at the same 
time to ti^anslate it into English. A part of the 
Scriptures they also learn by heart. The schools 
are visited three times a year by an inspector, 
who makes a report of their condition and prog- 
. jess to the superintendent All ihe teachers 
frequently meet together at the superintendent's, 
in order to be fUriher instructed in the saving 
doctrines of the Bible^ and to be encouraged in 
the labours of instruction by little premiums and 
jiresenu«. Besides this, Scripture readers are 
engaged, who travel about from village to vil- 
lage, and from house to house, in order to main- 
tain among the people the edifying practice of 
frequent reading of the Word of Salvation. 

" This whole system of Irish instruction was 
begun by the presbyterian church in the year 
1^. In the first year thirty schools were 
erected, which since then have increased to 223. 
'The scholars examined in all these 5chools last 
▼ear by the inspectors, amoanted to 5407, mostly 
"koman Catholics, all of whom are capable of 
reading the Holy Scriptures in Irish, and trans- 
lating them into English. None of these schol- 
ars were younger than fifteen, and many hun- 
dreds of them were between fif\y and seventy 
years of age. Many of the teachers have even 
Tcnonnced the errors of Popery, and evangelical 
doctrines are making sure and rapid progress 
among them. 

"The field of our activity is wide, the need is 
pressing, and the machinery applied is good. 
What might not a really united, active, and 
zealous presbyterian church accomplish, if she 
made use of all the means and uses at her com- 
mand l" 

Such is the substance of the report given in 
the " Christian Remembrancer*' or the remark- 
able activity of the presby^rian church, which 
has really some right, in Ireland, to call herself, 
as she so frequently does, a missionary and an 
apostolical church. The Irish sunday-schools, 
which differ from those above descrioed, in be- 
Q 



ing held <mly on a Simday, and conducted imljr 
by onpaid teachers, are mostly established by the 
presbyterian charch, as the following interesting 
table shows. On the first of January, 1841, 
there were, 

ioadav ScbOQli. SeholMi. UnpudTM^H»« 

InXTlster .... 2,(!I0 169.377 15,bVl 

*'Leinster. ... 455 83,940 9,969 

*' MaosCer. ... 894 19^)94 2,045 

<* ConnaasH. . . 169 8,668 768 

In all Ireland . . . 8,088 280,679 21,668 

This table shows how much education has^ 
been neglected in the west of Ireland, since ' 
there are single counties in Ulster which con- 
tain four or five times as many scholars and 
teachers as all Connaught put together. 
' The Presbyterians of Ulster are as unwearied 
in their activity in the field of scientific research, 
as in that of religious instruction. The whole 
north of Ireland, <' the favoured Ulster,'' is as 
far above the rest of Ireland, in these respects, 
as Scotland is above the rest of Great Bntain; 
and, just as in Great Britain, you can generally 
tell a Scotchman by^his superior intelligence 
and cultivation, so is it in Ireland with the peo- 
ple of Ulster. Belfa;st is a sort of miniatBre 
Edinburgh and Glasgow in one. Like Edin- 
burgh, it iH the headquarters of many learned " 
SLxÄ scientific associations; there are horticul- 
tural, agricultural,, statistical, literary, and his- 
torical societies, as well as a mechanics* insti- 
tute, a society of natural history, an association 
fur the promotion of science in general, and .sev- 
eral musical associations. I visited the institu- 
tions and collections of some of these societiss. 

The Society of Natural History has collected 
a small museum« in a handsome and elegant 
building. Many such museums have of late 
been established in all the towns of England ; 
but upon the whole, the museums of our smaller 
German towns are older, richer, and better 
kept than these British provincial museums. 
The museum of Belfast contains many inter- 
esting Irish antiquities ibund in the neighbour- 
hood, and also many natural curiosities ; but 
the traveller seeks in vain for what he must 
most desire and expect in this place— I meaii, a 
complete, well-arranged, satisfactory, and in- 
structive collection of geolofrical and m'uera- 
logical specimens, illustrative of the Gimt's 
Causeway, and the other interesting volcanic 
formations, which render the whole northern 
coast of Ireland so remarkab'e. Every proviii. 
cial museum has its own particular task to ful- 
fil, since each is generally particulariy qualified, 
by its geographical position, to promote the in- 
vestigation of some one important branch of 
natural history. Belfast, a great city, rich in 
scientific materials and learned men, is un- 
doubtedly called upon to collect in its museums 
whatever can be collected of specimens, mod- 
els, or reports, likely to afford instruction as to 
those remarkable basaltic formations, whick 
render the northern coast of Ireland famous 
throughout the scientific world. Some speci- 
mens of this coast are indeed found in the Bel- 
fast museums ; but in vain we ask after a «-om- 
plete collection of all the volcanic materials of 
which the northern coast consists, or for an ar- 
rangement of them in the natural «irder in which 
they are found, or for a correct model in wood 
or plaster of the Giant's Causeway, or of, the 
whole northern coast, none of which ought to 
be wanting in a place like Belfast. The trav- 



IRELAND. 



«0«r iMStewng tmar^ that coast, with his 
mtiid AiU (if detighifa) antiei|Mition8, and the 
•travelter relarning theme^ absorbed in interest- 
%ng recollections, miui. eqnally regret the ab- 
sence of all t itvef things in the museums of 
Belfast. The stranger wlH always find more 
to please him in the private than in the public 
collections of the English ; the former are al- 
ways much richei*, and ^reneraHy kept in the 
most beautiful order. This does not, of course, 
apply to the public and private libraries of Eng- 
land ; but the best museums of antiquity and 
natural history are always found in the hands 
of private persons, who have devoted them- 
selves to some particular branch of science. 
BeliUst contains private collections which are 
'quite unique in their class, such as Dr. Drum- 
iQond's admirable collection of marine plants, 
luid Dr. Thompson's excellent and vahiakde eol- 
l0C»ion of shells. 

The Botanical Garden of Belfast was estab- 
üsbed in the year 1890. A great many of the 
English botanical gardens are nut twenty years 
«hi. il was much sarprtsed nt the youthfuiness 
•l^abiiost all English scientific institutions, and 
«t finding how^moch less has yet been done for 
wtonce in;tbe remote parts of England than in 
ISmse of Germany. The Botanical Garden at 
Belfast is the finest in Ireland, next to that of 
Bsbifn, over which latter it has indeed many 
«id^nntages. Although these two cities are 
'scarcely twenty German miles apart, their cli- 
ikiates afre very different. Dublin has a ranch 
hotter summer and a much colder winter than 
Belfast. This fhct the polite director of the bo- 
tEmical garden explain«! to me by saying that 
'Belfast was sheltered by a chain of hills on the 
tahd side, while Dublin lay on the edge of a 
wide unsheltered plain. In the garden at Bel- 
ief, situated under the fifty-fifth degree of lat- 
itnde, the cypress and arbutus grow very well 
in the open air, althongh they are not found 
wild, as in the south. 'Hie north rtf Ireland has 
libwever the yew-tree to make amends for this 
•deficiency. The garden also contains a fine 
collection of all the heaths indigenous to the 
früh biigs, among which are many large and 
fine specimens. I was particularly interested 
in a part of the garden called the British Gar- 
den, containing as perfect a collection as pos- 
sible of all the plants found wild in the wholt^ 
British dominions There was also a very fine 
collection of grasses, which must always be in- 
teresting to British gardeners, since the Eng- 
lish attach so much importance to large and 
ifine lawns, or grass plots I saw in this col- 
lection no less than 400 species of grass, which 
are all indigenous to English soil. There are 
(gardeners in many of the great English cities 
who cultivate nothing hut grasses, and make a 
distinct trade of dealing in the seed. The 
** i^CMtuca ovina," the *• Poa triviafi»:' and the 
" Foa jiemoraii»,** are grasses which produce- a 
▼ery thick, soft, fresh verdure, and are conse-, 
quently much sought afler for lawns. Austra 
lian plants also thrive excellently well in the 
temperate atmosphere of Belfast, and indeed 
throughoht Ireland. A rose, oViginally brought 
from China, has also become very general in 
Irish gardens, where it is lef\ unprotected win- 
der and summer. 

The musical societies are now four in num- 



ber ; the AnaoreoBtio, tlie Choral, tlie Hai«ii«Ri* 
ic, and the Assooiation of Harpers ; and these 
frequently get ap concerts, rehearsals, and mu- 
sical soirie*. Thalherg, Liszt, and other great 
musicians, have always visited Belfast when- 
ever they came to Ireland, although they have* 
left nnvisited Cork, Limerick, and other great 
cities of the south. I mention thrs, because it 
is well known that the manufacturing cities of 
Ertgland, Manchester, Birmingham, and others,, 
are likewise very liberal patrons of music, and 
are famed for the number of their likewise pa- 
trons of music, whilst Liverpool an4 all the ira- 
ding cities are remarkably deficient in, this re- 
spect. It would be worth while to inquire what 
it is in the spirit of manufacture more thaniitj 
that of commerce which encourages and {wo- 
motes the progress of musical cultivation. 

The Association of Harpers is the oldest mu^ 
sical association in Ireland. It was founded 
and supported, curiously enough, by «one Irish; 
patriots residing in the East Indies, whoso pa- 
triotic feelings were perhaps still more moved> 
by the wild -Süd beantiful melodies of their «a- 
live land, when th^ sang them aiw 
«elves, en a strange eoil and vmmg a < 
people, and who sent over money wr tlie:i 
cai edueatioB «f some blind hoys at Belfiut, aad- 
for the giving of ooacetts on the natioaal riMam- 
meut of ilrelaad. Perhaps some patriotic Ircsh- 
nsea, exiled to Ohina and the East Indiee, willr 
some day, msndfal of nhe wonders of their ma- 
uve shore, send oYsr money for the eetaMieh' 
ment of a geological innsemii iHustrative of the 
Giant*« Caueeway, and every thing eomiected 
wKh it. 

I have already atsded to the harper^* -society 
^t Drogheda. In the former century no snch 
societies existed in Ireland, and the nnmbers 
; which havebeenestahiished of late years, might 
lead to the supposition that the old iiational art 
of the bards was reafly Tcviving a^n in the 
island. Yet this supposition mig[lit be very er- 
roneous, for such sudden and artificial revivals 
of obsolete customs and amusements are sel- 
dom lasting, and are oflen rather the momenta- 
ry flickerlngs of the flame before its utter ^t- 
tinction, than the real indications of returamg- 
health. 

Among the public institutions of Belfast, as 
^i all manufacturing towns in England and lie* 
land, the fever hospitals are partioalarly Iik«»ly 
to attract the attenti«m of the traveller. The 
close and crowded dwellii^ of maauiaetariag 
labourers, and the ipoverty an 1 wretchedness 
too oflen preitalent among them, render the 
dangers of mfeetioi» fover lüery great among 
them, and make every thing connected with ' 
the establishmeot and improvement of forer 
hospitals of vital importance in manufacturing 
towns. The etatisticfll tahft^ of the fey^r hos- 
pital, at Belfiist, ehow a great increase of fever 
there daring several years past. From the year 
1818 to 1836, the annual number of patients te^ 
cerved there, usnally varied from 300 to 600. 
The blithest number which occurred during that 
(Hiriod was 1821. In the year 1837 there were 
1987 patients, and iti ld38 the number rose to 
the unprecedented one of 83f)3. Since that 
year the number has indeed decreased, but it 
has never again been reduced under a thousand. 
The average annual number of patients daring 



IBEI.AN.D. 



9i) 



Ute 81Z years before 1837, was 750 ; of the six \ cloaks, in order to feel ^e cntiipg wind Jjejess. 
jrears since that taue, morelLau 1500. ""*^ '"" " """ -•-— ^ ^•-^^ 

1 he Irish lever seems also tu increase in se- 
-verity and ubsimaoy. Before the year 1818 an 
epidemic infectious fe?er never lasted lunger 
than eight months at Beiiast ; in the year 1818, 
there wa» one that lasted ten months ; and in 
the year 1836, there was one that continued more 
than a twelvemonth, the longest duration for the 
iev«r ever kaown at Belfast. This (ener is al- 
muet eniireiy conftned to the poorer classes, and 
ia maifily attributable to their scaaiy noarish- 
jueat and poverty oi life. Every wet year, which 
iDjufes the harvest, inercaees also the preva- 
lence of fever. When tlie wealthy are attacked 
fey It, whieh seldoia happens, it is oflener fatal 
ti>'them tlum to the poor. Certam localities of 
JtelfiMft, as of Manchester and Glasgow, suffer 
ttoat from fever. It fs a remarkable fact, that 
»o fariatioB of seasea seems to have any effect 
«poff :the fever, which is equaHy prevalent, and 
«eeuaMy severe aU the year round. I saw a ta- 
ble 'of the oaHings porstfed by the patients be^ 
lure entering the hospital, Which was interest- 
ing as conveying some idea what were the oe- 
eupations most exposed, and what least liable 
to fever. To be thoroughly useful, however, 
this table should have beea accompanied by aa- 
«ther, showing the proportions of these differ- 
ent occupations, to the entire popoUtion of 
Belfast. Among 2066 patients, 740, that is 
ibore than a ihird, were of the mauufacturing 
daas ; namely, millworkers and weavers. In 
4he whole list there were only six bleachers, 
although there «m be no doubt that the propor- 
tion of bleachers to the popuhiUon is far greater 
than this. More than a tiflh of the patients 
were of che class of servants. It is a singular 
circumstance ttiat .women aeem to be oltener 
4ittacked by lever than men. In almost eveiy 
year's hospital list, the female exceed the maje 
jpatiems by ten or twenty per cent. Yet tlie 
iever «annot be so tatal to the former as to tbe 
Jtttter, sinoe all the tables show that ten or 
Swtfttty per cent. BMuemen than women die of 
Mie lever, i^rhaps this may be because the 
men, «*pott wfauaet^xeruons the very existence 
of lUeir families olWn depends, are not so soon 
MMU.to the hospital. It also appears that the 
lever seldom attacks the aged, twt that when it 
( so, it fs usually fatal. 



THE COAST OP ANTRIM. 

The weather «as very bad on the morning 
when 1 set out -for Caririckfefgus, on the oiMside 
igt' Ike stage-coack. A tremeBdous wind was 
hlowiog from the north, and a storm of rain and 
hail rattled down upon as. It was the first day 
since my arrival» that the Irish all allowed the 
weather to be really bad. Evety body who had 
bade OS guod-iBoming as we passed, adued to 
hu greeting the Irish phrase—** A wild day to- 
day r Inside our coach, we bad no ballast, ex- 
cepting tour young ladies, who filled up indeed 
the narrow space allowed in English stage- 
3oachea» for inside passengers, but who did not 
add much under- weight to maintain our balance, 
amid the lary of the storm. We ouisides, ttiere- 
Ibre, who were of coar>« most thoroughly aware 
of ttie powerof the btonn. dreaded each moment 
Ihe overturn of the top-heavy ooacb, and hud- 
dled close together, covering our heads with oar 



The auiaran-Ieaves flew about in whirling ed- 
' dies ; the trees on the sea-shore bowed down like 
reeds betbfe the wind ; the seagoUs screamed as 
they floiiered landwards; the fish sought for' 
shelter in the quieter depths of the sea; the 
boats and skiffs rocked wildly about on the 
shQre; in short, the weather was just ofthat 
tempestuous kind, which I would have chosen 
for seeing the far-famed Giant's Causeway and 
the whole of that wild and picturesque coast 
which bounds the northeast of Ireland. A storm 
occasions many interesting spectacles on this 
coast, and harmonizes well with the wild works 
of the Irish giants. When tbeüc mountains first 
arose from the gulfs and abysses of the earth, 
when these rocks first were shattered, and fetl in 
splashing fragments into the ocean, o", alighting 
on the roore, grew and took root there as fan- 
tastic mountafns, when the giants first paved 
their wonderful causeway, and «he Cyclops 
bored holes and caverns in their mighty halls, 
and carved colamns and clefts and precipices and 
headlands around them-— then the weather was 
sorely neither quiet nor snnny on this wild coast 
of Antrim! 

Our course first led tis round Longh -Belfilst. 
The Irish give the name of Lough, not only to* 
hiland lakes, but to ealis or inlets of the sea,, 
such as Longh Belfitst, Lough Strangfoad, . 
Lough Swilly. and others. Lough Belfast is 
sometimes called Lough Carrickfeigos, after the 
old Irish city of that name, which is one of the 
most ancient in Ireland, and flourished lonr be- 
fore an Englishman had- ever set foot on Irish 
soil. On the whole way ih>m Belfast to Car- 
n'ckfergus, the road is bordered by lines of coon* 
try-seats and gardens: but the gloomy and tern- • 
pestuous weather did not lend that embellish- 
meat to the petty beauty of these, human crear- 
tiOD«, that it did to the wild works of the giants^ 
towhteh we were hastening; indeed, as the hail 
generally obliged us to keep our eves shut, we 
may be said to have derived no pleasure from 
the sight of all the flower-beds, shubberies, cot-' 
tages, and parks, which the speculative industry 
of Belfast capitalists had so ingeniously spun 
from the flax of Ulster. 

Near Carrickfergus, close to the brink of the 
ocean, stands a large old castle, which is stilt 
kept fortified, and is garrisoned by two compa- 
nies of soldiers. The situation is very pictu- 
resque, and the view over the coa.<«t, the town of 
Bangor, the Bellhst Lough, and the dreary waste - 
of wafers beyond, must be most beamiful, in^ 
weather permitting Its enjoyment. The waHs^ 
of the castle are at the same time clothed in^. 
fresh green ivy, and washed by the white foav 
of the waves, as they break at Its feet. At this 
ca.stle William HI. landed, before he fought the 
battle of the Boyne. Here the French endeav- 
oured to land to lend assistance to the Irish lab- 
els, when It was too late. Belfast Lough is Ift- 
deed the principal landing-place for the whhle- 
north of Ireland. 

The Belfast stase-coaeh only goes as far as 
Carrickfrrgus. From that town to the little vil- 
lage of Larne we availed ourselves of the con- 
venience of a two-horsed car. From that place 
the traveller either provides himself with farther 
conveyance, or joins her majesty's mail-bags, 
which drive farthernoitbward upon a one-horsed 
car. Lough Lame, a little bay, protected bgr 
hills on the landside, and having only a veny 
narrow opening towards the sea, was coverad 



^f^^O f?^ 



100 



IRELAND. 



with small skifis and fishing-boats, which had 
sought shelter in the little harbour from the 
storm that raged oat at ^ea ; and whole swarms 
of sea-birds, which seemed likewise to be seek- 
ing sheller, flaitered screaming among them. 

Lame is a quiet liitle town, in no way distin- 
guished from others of its class, in the north of 
Ireland. From Larne the coast begins to as- 
sume its wild and picturesque aspect, and at this 
place 1 joined her majesty's mail-bags, which 
travelled with very little dignity in a low two- 

. wheeled car, drawn by one horse. I could not 
help contrasting in my mind's eye, this unpre- 
tending liitle equipage, with the luxurious and 
imposing fuur-borsed mail-coaches of England. 
All the land lying between the sea, Lougb 
Bellast, Lough Neagh, and the River Bann, is 
called the county of Antrim. This country, so 
rich in natural wonders, is covered all over with 

. a great stratum of limestone. Over this lime- 
l^one volcanic masses of later formation have 

, been depositüed, which have greatly altered the 

. shape and composition of the origmal stratum, 
and have not only c^jvered it, but here and there 
have pushed it away and scattered it in frag- 
ments around. The chalk limestone is as white 

. as snow, when found on the surface, and vol- 
canic masses being mostly basalt, are nearly 
black, wherever they are ejtposed to the eye. 

. The circutnference of this basalt and limestone 
district is about 120 miles, and the stretch of 
€oast along which both materials present tbem- 

. selves to tbe eye, is about sixty miles long, from 
Lough Belfast to Lough Foyle. Along this 
whole district the white chalK rocks and the 

. black basaltic formations, are found arranged 

.in the most curious, picturesque, and diversified 
forms. 

Sometimes the chalky mass lies in regular 
strata, and the basalt is poured over it in similar 
strata. Elsewhere the limestone has remained 
nntouched by the ba.salt, and projects its white 

c cliä^ as proudly into the ocean as once into the 

: glowing furnace of the volcanic liquids. Here 
and there, however, they vanish under the sur- 
face of the sea, and the basalt rears itself above 
them, sometimes in regular columns, and some- 

• times in irregular masses. In some places the 
basalt forms long aisles or avenues of thick and 
lofty columns; in others yawns open in deep 
black chasms and caves ; in others projects bold 
precipices over the raging waves, or breaks up 
into sharp fragments, forming little rocks ana 
precipitous islands. 'Elsewhere the limestone 
and basalt seem to have struggled with one 

^another for supremacy, and their colours and 

> materials seem mixed together in inextricable 

«confusion., 

Thei^se effects %nd appearances can of course 

>only be observed on the sides of the rocks which 
4ine the sea-coast; for inland, the whole is cov- 
ered with earth and vegetation. Here and there 
•the land rises into high point», some of which 
are nearly two thousand feet high ; and here and 
there it sinks, forming valleys which extend 
along to the sea, and break the high rocky line 
of the coast. On the sides of these valleys, 
which seem to have been caused by sudden 
yawnings and openings of the earth, the naked 
basalt and limestone rocks rise abruptly to a 
great height. The rich culiivation of these val- 
leys, the picturesque rocks which wall them in. 
Ifae waterfalls which dash down their sides, and 
•the wide expanse of ocean which stretches away 
at the entrance, all these beauties give a charm 



to these wild valleys which must make som^ ot 
them very attractive residences. The coast 
itself is very steep and precipitous, except where 
these valleys stretch down to the sea-side. Many 
rocks and headlands are from one or two thou- 
sand feet in height, but their usual elevation Va- 
ries from six hundred to one thousand feet 

Beyond Lame we reached Glenarm, one of 
the valleys abovie described, which is followed 
by the valleys of Glenariff and Cnshendnn. 
f^ormerly a narrow and difficult way, called 
" the path," alone conducted the traveller along 
this coast ; but lately a very fine road has beea 
tut along it, called the Antrim Coast road. The 
making of a flat straight road through a wild 
coast like that which 1 have described, must, it 
may well be imagined, have presented no oidi- 
nary difficulties and obstacles. Any one who 
travels along the Antrim Coast load may see 
that neither powder, pickaxe, nor labour has 
here been spared. The English, defying basalt 
and the giants, have cut straight through every 
thing that came in their way, and have lelt to 
posterity a work of enterprise and ingenuity for 
which iuture generations will long be thankful. 
In some places immense masses of basalt have 
been cut through from top to bottom • in others 
great holes and chasms have been filled up. 
Paiticular difficulties were presented by those 
parts of the road upon wbicn large masses of 
limestone were apt to roll down from the slip- 
pery rocks above. "Boulders," or "boulder- 
stones," is the name applied by the English to 
theae loose fragments of stone. Many of them 
still break away, from time to time, from the 
sides of the rocks, loosened b^ the gradual influ- 
ence of time ana weather. Others, long since 
broken, lie about in large fragments on the rock, 
or Slick to the loam which here and there covers 
the rock, and, after a long continuance of wet 
weather, they come tumbling down the sides. 
At these places it was necessary either to shelter 
the road by a kind of arched roof, over which 
the bouldersitones could roll harmlessly away, or 
to erect a solid wall of rock at the side of the 
road, to stop the boulderstones when they rolled 
down. Those boulders which have long since 
rolled down from the sides, form here and there a 
dam along the coast against the inroads of tbe sea. 

Such was the coast, and such the road, along 
which our car drove away through the storm, 
with its* mail-bags and other contents. Near 
Lame the little peninsula, Magee, a volcanic 
formation of basalt, bends round the entrance of 
the Lou^h. Along the whole eastern coast of 
thif; peninsula rise pillars of basalt ranged in 
regular succession for four or five miles. Thete 
columns are called " the Gobblns/* and this bft- 
saltk; peninsula, which is a mile and a half wide, 
and six or seven miles long, is, in my opinion, a 
far more really gigantic work than the Giant's 
Causeway itself. The latter is, in fact, a mere 
toy compared to it; but because the surface of 
the peninsula is covered with vegetation, and 
the pavement of the basaltic columns is thus 
concealed, the far less colossal'structure has ac- 
quired the greater fame. 

The point next in interest is the precipice of 
Ballygally Head, which advances boldly and 
majestically into the sea, and is composed of an 
immense number of irregular basaltic masses. 
The road winds round the foot of this precipice, 
and as we still kept close to the edge of the sea- 
shoriB. tbe stormy heaving of the white-crestec 
billows, and the furious working of the tempest. 



IRf^I^AND. 



iW 



o^ere^ a?i animating spectael« to my eyes, 
^gainst the huge boulderstones which lay scat- 
tered aboat on the shore, the mighty waves 
broke incessantly in the maddest and most d(- 
Tersified manner. Roaring and foaming they ad- 
Tanced like living mountains, and swept proud- 
ly on until all at once they dashed against the ^ 
boulderstones and were shattered to pieces like 
shipwrecked vessels. The majestic water- 
mountains^ clear and green as crystal, bounded 
up fiercely against the rocks, and then, with a 
wild hollow crash, broke into hundreds of little 
streams which ran busily about among the boul- 
derstones, until they found their way back to 
their native sea. Twenty white-crested water- 
spouts heaved up their snowy heads at once 
from the deep, and single arms of the great 
wave, dashing down the sides of the rocks, 
formed momentary waterfalls, Vhicb, though 
mere improvisatioTiS, were often more beautiful, 
while they lasted, than many a far-famed little 
cataract in the county of Wicklow. Thousands 
and thousands of such mighty waves marched 
thus hand in hand up to the coast, and broke 
thus wildly, one aAer another, like the scatter- 
ing sparks of bursting rockets, forming a spec- 
tacle fantastic and picturesque, though oniymo- 
zuentary in its endurance. 

As we approached the entrance of the valley 
of Glenarm, I noticed a strange-looking column 
of smoke, which seemed to rise from the top- 
most summit of one of the projecting rocks. As 
I neither expected to see a dwelling-house nor a 
turf fire in such a place, 1 asked my driver what 
was the cause of this smoke. '' It isn't smoke, 
your honour," replied he, "it's only the spray. 
of a waterfall between the rocks there, which 
the storm has carried up into the air." At first 
I could scarcely believe this account, but aüer- 
- wards I convinced myself that there is nothing 
uncommon in this phenomenon, of the water bt 
a cataract being raised into the air, on this epast^ 
by a strong north wind. At one place I saw 
three such columns of vapour close to one ai^ 
other. They were swayed about by the wind, 
sometimes higher, spmetimes lower, bi|t iiever 
disappeared for an instant. I account for them 
in tue following manner: The rocks are, in 
some places, very steep and precipitous, and at 
the same time indented by deep narrow ciefis in- 
the basalt. In these clefts, duri ng quiet weather,^ 
the waterfalls pursue their picturesque way in a 
very natural mann^er; but when th^ nortl^ wind 
Tages against the loftjr coast, it roars through 
these narrow chasms, in which the currents of 
air are somewhat compressed, wiih peculiar vi- 
olence, and carries up with it the water which 
comes in its way, scattering it like ppWer in 
the air. I afterwards saw similar waterfalls on 
the low coasts, and these were much more un^ 
accountable to me. The next day I saw t,bem 
near the Giant's Causewav, pnly ai hundred pa» 
ces distant from me. As t was driving along a 
low grassy headland, I did not perceive that this 
headland descended towards the sea, and these 
V powdery appearances looked like fountains 
springing out of the grpund^in the midst of the 
meadows. They swayed to ^ikd Iro with the 
wind, often rising to a height of forty or fifly feet, 
and scatterings a shower far around them on the 
grass. Approaching nearer, however, I discov- 
ered the cause of these appearance^. On this 
low coast, also, there were little clefb and chasms 
dowpto the sea, fisi in (he basaltic rocks« , The 
wind drove up the aea-water into the$e ckAjs- 



and carried it up inwhirlftig current^ of snliflt 
particles into the air. These fountains are icfd^ . 
on other Irish coasts of similar formation j^ai?,' 
tor instance, ofi* the County of Clare, and thtf^ 
Irish call the chasms through which these Ibiiilt^^ 
ains rise, "pufiing-holes." • , ir; 

The while chalky rocks of the co&st are Ml' 
of flints, which are not irregalartty scatiet^d^ 
through them, but are deposited in long hoiiJ-i 
zontal strata fh)m two to three feet tttfck; Thtt^' 
inhabitai)^ of the neighbouring coumt^ dig out 
these stones, and use them as articles of cpmi^^* 
merce. At Glenarm I saw great heap» of kifge^ 
and small flintstones^ ready for shipping. ' Not 
only do these limestone roetfs occasionally break 
u p into boulderstones ; the same< is the ease with - 
the black basalt massesf'which iie over them. 
Thus the whole coast; and all the little valleys' 
which run down towards it, aro sprinkled wifh 
great loose black and Ivhite atones, like the black' 
and ^hite heids of Jacob. , Thes^ black' and 
white stones are seen everywhere around. 1%^' 
road is macadawazed withbacic and white stonesf,' 
and the walls of the bojuses, gardens, and :<50iirt«'- 
yards are all built of blae^ and white «tones. 

After Balllßy-galley Head, w« reached other 
steep and preoipitodis rocks and clifis. calted the^ 
Sallagh-braes. Here the wh«te chalk founda-^- 
tion an<| tbe<b1ackfbaaaii deposit were plainly' 
enough< to be. diatinguished. One large mass df ^ 
basalt, had detached itself from theirest, and reapJ' 
ed its black' heiad from itte itraves near the toast 
" Knockdhu,? or theBla^k Rock, waa the name 
given it by the lirish. Farther out to sea. abpuc 
foqr miles fromland, lie other rocks called <* Th^ • 
Maidens." , . U poo two of them lighthobses havd , 
bejsn erected. Pjarth^ü out in the distance, the ■ 
nearest point of &<(xytlaiid is seen irearingits head 
above the waters. •■ It is the Mdll of Ahtib^ with' 
ita ne%hbour: island; of Sandä. - ' : ^ 

', Gilenaum i? the most beadtiläl point' älOAjgf (he - 
whple eoa$t, of Antrim ; iofdeed the^ ioriany attrac- ' 
tion8 which unite m this valley, i^derft One of 
ttee most heautifal spots m^IrelandJ On each' 
side, of it ri^es a long range of dark' baaaSlic^ 
rocks^ leaving« wide tevelibetWeen, as= they run' 
inland tolerably plurallel* ton each other. A little- 
brook sparkles thixiugfa thö. valley, and here and^ 
there littte waterfalls mh'ddwnthe black roektf' 
on either side-, keening the land wdl irrigatfed, 
and covering it with a carpet of the hrfghtest?' 
verdureTimagi^able, as well asafiibrdingnötirish^ 
ment to the most beautiful dumps of stately ol(^' 
trees^ which dot it here and there; In thi^ vaV' 
ley lies the residence of i he Antrim ihmily, and'' 
the little village appertaining to it. , Near the 
village and the castle, g 11 traces of wilderness ' 
vanish^entimly, and a charming park and preny ' 
flower-garden confer additional beautie^ on the 
scene. The castle itself, to whose distinguislred ' 
mistress I had the honour of paying a visit, i^ 
built in a fine old Gothic style, and fumiAKed 
with modem taste and elegance. Fonr hundred 
deer and stags graze around it, and six hundred 
old ancestral trees overshadow its grounds with 
their sheading boughs : and «11 th is sifiiling and 
peaceful beauty, sheltered ttetwcen'the wiM btatk ■ 
rocks, which form the little gles^ with a Vfe^ 
opeoing on old ocean rolHtig his stivmv wMt^^'r 
crested waves beyond, ibrms perhaps the most' ^ 
wonderful site in all the ^orld for a suÄäly*| 
baronial mansion. • > * ! 

When the Antrim family eameiovisr, I^oiMyr- 
knowi but ibeir present fosisessiöris-^Bit titles 
were giyei^ them «^ Ciiartol. iailfiaa "IMr^ 



It» 



ISKtAN». 



Ml family name is M'DoimelL Tbe ftmily of 
M'DooBell is spread all over the eounty of An- 
' trici, and on my travels I met many M'Donnells 
mho claimed kindred with tbe great Antrim 
namily. The part of Scotland lying just oppo- 
site the coast of Antrim abounds in tbe same 
•wy with Mac Donnells, and a perpetnal dispute 
is going 00 between the Scottisn and Irish fami- 
lies, as to which is the older of the two. The 
Scottish Mac Donnells persist that the Irish 
McDonnells are only a voanger branel^ of their 
dan, while,the Irish M^t^onnells of coarse main- 
tain the contrary. This dispute has dwindled 
from a contest of blood to one of ink^ for many 
genealogists and antiquarians of both families 
continually renew the strife with the weapons of 
leaminfiT. and satire. Walter Scott even has 
toQched ap6o the question, and has decided in 
faTotir of tbe Irish M'Donnells; snch at least 
was the statement which I heard in Antrim. 

These old Irish families sometimes carry their 
claims to antiquity v«ry far. Thus at the bead 
of the genealogical tree of the O'Neills, stands 
Adam; a very igiioble progenitor one would 
think, seeing tnat all the base as well as noble 
Wood in the world dates from him. The O'Neills 
are, however, more modest than some Scotch and 
Irish families, who proiess to trace their ances- 
tojns even beyond Adam. Heremon, tbe first 
king of Erin, was also one of tbe ancestors of 
tbe O'Neills, nor is Adam's the only biblical 
mame that occurs in their genealogical tree. A f- 
terward come Feninsa, Kmgof Scytbia, founder 
of tbe universal schools of the Plain Magh Sea- 
'nair, and Heber Gierosiony, Lord of Oothia. 
Then follow some unimportant names, which 
bring us down to Dea, 1400 years before the 
Christian era, who carried a colony of Scythians 
into Gnlicia in Spain.. Dea is iTollowed by a 
long list of Spanish kings, till we arrive at Here- 
mon, the first monarch of Erin, who, in his turn, 
is succeeded by other Irish kings down to Feid- 
troth, in the third year of whose reign the Saviour 
was born ; for the period of the reign of each 
king is stated with great minuteness. At length 
we come to the O'Neills thems#»lves, who, if not 
as kings, yet as great earls and lords of the soil, 
still reside in the neighbourhood of Lonerh Neah 
in the north of Ireland. Tbe genealo^, like most 
of those I had seen, was in manuscript, and 
many copies of it were in the hands (^ those who 
claimed kindred with tbe chief of the family. 
These things arc scarcely ever printed, for if they 
were, the imaginations of their compilers could 
hardly be allowed so bold a range concerning the 
early historv erf Ireland. Even the regular Irish 
historians, however, find it difficult to give up 
these family manuscripts as mere fables, and 
such as have never ventured into the broad day- 
light of the press, would stake their existence on 
the veracity of these stories. 

On the following morning I continued my 
journey, again in company with " Her Majes- 
ty's leiter-bag." It was, as the people sav, a 
"wild ^9y," for the storm continued with una- 
bated violence, and our road, as before, lay close 
along the sca-rilore. We reached the valley of 
Glen^trifif, and the scenery was still more beanti- 
fol and magnificent than that of the preceding 
day. Garron Point is a steep, wooded headland, 
that lies before the loftier rock«, like a footstool 
before a great armchair. Upon a projecting 
ledge of rock-, resides an English Gusiom-honse 
officer, with his assistants ; and on account of the 
a^tiv« smuggling, trade carried on along thia 



ooaat, and thtongh thew wild regHms, whict iC- 
ford such facrlUies for the conw^yance of go>d^ 
into the interior, a atrcmg body of tlie coast gnai^ 
is always herie, watching closely ail vessels fhaC 
can be descried. 

These preventive service men are an amphfb^ 
ious race of creatures, balAsoldiers, half-sailofs. 
and even their dress partakes of fheir twofow 
character. They are generally stationed on high 
rocky points, to keep a look-out over the sea, 
end as soon as a sail appears in sight, are re- 
qoired to judge, from its appearance and m^ive- 
ments, of its character and intentions; and when- 
ever cases of collision arise, rhey are expected 
to engage with smuj^rglers either by sea or land. 

The valley of Glenarlff, or the valley of th© 
Caverns, forms a wider opening than that of 
Glenarm, and lies in the neighbourhood of sev- 
eral other valleys, as that of Cushendall, and 
Gnsfaendnn, and altogether bear the name of the 
Glens, or Glywns, and make quite a little separ- 
ate province.' They lie buried among high mas^ 
es of mountains, and have retained the Irish pop- 
ulation, and the Irish language, whilst the coun- 
try all round them has been entirely peopled by 
Scotch and English settlers. These glens, and 
the neighbourhood of Drogheda, are, as far as 
I can make out, the only points on the whole 
east coast of Ireland which have retained the 
Irish language. 

Along the road to Glenarifif*, the sides of manr 
of the rocks and mountains are clothed witu 
beautiful woods, among which are hollies, ha- 
zelnut-trees, and white thorns of enormous di- 
mensions, and in the valleys are ash-trees and 
oaks. Caverns and subterranean passages 
abound in this tract of country ; and near Gar- 
ron Point, almost in the surf of the sea, is one 
from which issues a considerable stream of wa- 
ter, whose supply never fails during the driest 
season of the whole year. Beyond Glenariif, 
the road runs past the mouths of several caves, 
some of whicD appear to have been inhabited. 
In one there had evidently been a forge, and in 
another dwelt an aged single woman, named 
Nanny Morry, who, the people told me, bad liv- 
ed there fifty or sixty years, that is, from time 
immemorial. I paid her a visit, as most travel- 
lers who pass this way do, and one of her friends, 
whom I found with her, kindled a splinter or 
wood, and lighted me into all the comers of the 
cavern, while the old woman sat spinning by the 
fire. The entrance was closed by a low wall, 
and a gate, and at the back of the cavern was a 
pretty natural recess, in which stood Nanny's 
bed. As long as I remained, she continued qui- 
etly to spin and smoke her pipe; but when I 
took my departure, she murmured sotne unin- 
tellfgiblp words, and ofiTered me a schnaps. She 
reminded me forcibly of some of the romantic 
personages who play so conspicuous a part in 
Waller Scott's novels. The cavern in which 
she has taken up her abo1e, is known far and 
wide as Nanny's Cave. These caverns consist 
of an enormous ron<flomerate mass of clay and 
fiint-stones, precisely like what is found at the 
foot of ihe hrv mountains in Saxony^ and on ä 
promon^orv of similar composition lies Castle 
Corey. The road is cut throuarh the rock, which 
forms an arch across it, and after issuing from it 
we saw the heads of sheep protruding from an 
oneninsr higrh up in a perpendicular, rocky wall. 
They had probably found their way there through 
one 'of tbe passages I have mentioned, and in 
winter they are often penned up in the caverns. ' 



IRELAND. 



10ft 



TlMse kuiitic rocks of Antntaa afibrd pasture 
only to sheep, whilst the neighbonrüig oountjr of 
Dowa is renowned for its horses. These hoiv 
ses, of coufse, require mascalioe attendance, bat 
be sheep can be easily kept by women, and ac- 
3oidin^ the shephenlesses of Antrim Site no 
less e^ebrated than iheir sheep. A difference 
leoorded by a distich peculiar to the counliy, 
and eontaining a very Jbrish sort of rhyme. 
** The emraty of Down fpr maa sad hone», 
The county of Antrim for lombe end laaees.'* 

At GasheodaU, there was pointed out to me 
the srare of Dallas, a Scotch hero slain by the 
hana of Ossian^ uf whose exploits, I was assured, 
Antrioi was the true and nu>st distinguished 
theatre. 

Ossian is, according to traditjon, the descend- 
ant ol* the giant Fiogal, who constructed the Gi> 
ant's Causeway. This Fingal, or, as the Irish 
historians call hfim, Finn Mjac Cumhal, which 
the lower Irish shorten into Finn Mac Cum. 
lived in the third ceniary after Christ, and filled 
the- whole north of Ireland and the west of Scot- 
land with, the lenown of his natne. Some wri< 
lers connect him with the Phcenicians, who are 
said to have colonised the country ; and be takes, 
in Irish tradUioo, eiactly the place filled by Her> 
'Cules in that vi' the Greeks. All sorts of nat ural 
jnarrela are ascribed fio him,, and Fingal tnay^ in 
iact, be regarded as the Hercules of £rin, Gale- 
^oniaj and the islands lying between them. 

The grave of his desckulant, Ossian, on whom 
be eonterred many of his wonderful gifts, is 
|x>iBlBdout ia the bixria^ground of a Little ruined 
jvy-eovered church on the^ sea-coast Other ac- 
cotttttsv however, place it on the top of a mounts 
ain,^ oOBMuaiidiag a «ode pnospeot across the 
ocean and the glens. This seems a more suit- 
able spot for the remains of the great hero and 
]>oet^ itnhQ, being a healhen, could have no par- 
ticular paniaKiv for the Christian church. Os- 
sian ia aaid, indeed, to have beea converted ^y 
St. Patricki notwithstanding the trifling; objec- 
tion that he lived two huodred years before the 
saint. A way has beea found to g^ over this 
litds diffisalty. OssiaA fell into an enchaaied 
sleepy on the banks of tshe Shojmon, and lay for 
two hoadred yean, till he wfts awakened by the 
saint, who'convericid aad baptiied him» Ostsian 
is too great a favourite with the people for them 
to eoMsent to his dying a heathen. 

Hoflifevef well wo weie provided wiih spirit- 
ual enieftainment, as we journeyed along the 
•coast, by the stories of Ossian, Fingal, and other 
heroes^ oar grosser corporeal wants were but in- 
diftrsBiIy satisflfid, since nothing was to be bad 
•but a glass of smoky whiskey and a bit of oat- 
cake f and the open car, the rain and the storm, 
did' not lend any additional charm to the &re. 
Indeed it required all the beauty of the coast of 
Antrim to reconcile one to the journey. ** We 
are nearly alone, your honour," said a new pos- 
tillion, as we entered a dark valley beyond Cush- 
endall, " I wonder you travel in such a night." 
"How do you know we are alone !" I replied; 
" suppose we should hear from the darkness the 
voice of one of Fingal's companions, saying, 
here am I too." 

** Don't be joking that way to-night, your hon- 
our," said my companion; '*I believe we're 
akme at any rate." 

As we issued from the valley, and begaa to as- 
cend the mountain, we conld distinguish through 
the darkness the lights on five diSbrent points. 
in» OM pTMnded üöia the lighthoose on th« 



opposite coast (^Scotland, two from towers neif 
the entrance of Lough Foyle, and two from the 
" Maidens" lighthouses abuve-mentioned. 

The two latier were above twenty miles o% 
yet they gliuered like stars on our horizon, 
which indeed presented no other stars to rival 
them. 

At nine o'clock in the evening we arrived on, 
the wings of a dry storm, for the rain bad entire- 
ly ceased, at the little town of Ballycastle, on the 
hca^shore, opposite the island of Kathlin. Here, 
the nckoontaiaous district of the Glens, terminal^ 
and the country assumes the form of wide downs 
sloping with a more or less steep declivitv to th«^ 
sea ; this is also the boundary of the Irish laa- 
gnage^ and a little river, ninning eastward 0om 
Ballycastle, was pointed out to me as its exact 
limit. ^ 

Beyond the bridge it was said no one even n^ 
derstood Irish. For th^ last few miles towards 
Ballycastle, a polieeman took his seat on the car 
beside me, and I inquired if he had much to do 
in the G4ens. " Oh yes," he answered, *^ we have 
a great deal more to do here than our comrades 
down in Derrv (LondK^derry), and the people 
would be much wocse if they wasn't so much in 
fear of the law. They're poorer too here than 
in Derry ; but, as you have travelled so much, 
you must lOK^w (hat Catholics are alway poorer 
thaa: Protestants." I give the man's own wordsi 
because there is some truth ia his remark^ 
though I cannot exactly determine how much. 

A pleasant little inn at Ballycastle opened to 
us at length its hospitable doors, and in its <^ttiet 
room« we Ibund a shelter from the raging wio4* 

The furnitiire looked comfortable, the tea-table 
stood ready, and near the fire — oh, wonder h-« 
were seated sonie ''.Antrim lasses," young la- 
dies, who were on their way to pay a visit to 
their relative, the rector of Rathlia. The storm 
had for three days prevented their crossing to the. 
island, and eight Rathlin fishing-boats were ly- 
ing in Ballycastle harbour, unable to get oqt on 
account of the temf)estuous sea, although the 
distance is but six miles. 

" It i^ an ill wind that blows no one any good,*' 
says the proverb, and I was at all events indebt- 
ed to the gale for the pleasure of taking my tea 
in the company of the young ladies. There was 
no sitting-room but the one, and as necessity has 
no law, even the stiffioess of English etiquette 
was obliged to give wav, and the cold, wet, de* 
piorable^looking traveller, had to be admitted, 
without even asking permission from papa or 
mamma 

The name of my fair companions was of » 
course Mac Donnell, as was also that of the 
hostess, and of the postillion ; for in this part of 
the world there is scarcely another name to bo 
met with. The island of Rathlin, being the es- 
state of their relative, formed, of coarse, our chief 
subject of conversation ; and as there appeared 
no likelihood of my bein« able to visit it, I was 
obliged to content myself with the description 
furnished me by the ladies, and with the view of 
it which I obtained on the following nioming 
through my telescope. 

THE ISLAND OP RATHLIN. 

The island of Rathlin, or Rachlio, or Raugb- 
linds, or Raghlio, or Rachlinda, or Rachary, or 
■ Raghery— for in all these various ways is its 
name written— is the largest of the island« lying 
off the Boith coaoty which are considered ^» be- 



104 



IRBCAB^B. 



longing to Ireland. All the other», with tb« ex- 
ception of 7\hy 1^ Reöber Island, are soiali and 
insignificant. Raihtia consists Of two tracts of 
land, united with each other at a right angle, 
and about a mile broad. The one which runs 
nearly parallel with the coast of the mainland is 
more thah five miles long, the other about three. 
The angle between the i wo forms a bay, called 
Church Bay, at the head of which is >inmted 
the church and the mansion of the rector and 
owner of the island. Like the opposite coast of 
Ireland the island is evidently of volcanic origin ; 
the basis is chalk and limestone, over which lies 
a mass of black basalt, running into large and 
hand^me columns,' and corresponding to a hair 
with me formation of the opposite coast of Ire- 
land. The tides and currents which exist in its 
neighbourhood are very peculiar, like those al- 
ready mentioned near the south-east comer of 
the county of Wexford. As in the vicinity of 
Wexford, and its promontory Camsore Point, 
the tide flowing in from the Atlantic Ocean turns 
to the north, and runs up the Irish Sea beyond 
Dublin, so here by Rathlin it takes a turn to the 
south and meets the opposite tide near Carting- 
ford Bay, where it is observed to come in and 
go out in two opposite directions at the same 
time. 

Rathlin lies at the vortex of the two currents, 
exactly where the flood tide turns to the south 
and the ebb to the east, and where there arises a 
struggle that makes itself felt along the whole 
coast of Antrim, Derry, and Donegal, as far as 
Malin Head, but is strongest in the strait be- 
tween Rathlin and the mainland. From these 
circumstances there arise, as Hamilton observes, 
m^ny irregularities in the tides, which, how- 
ever, he does not attempt to explain. There are, 
for instance, places on the coast where, instead 
of the tide giving six hours flood and six of ebb, 
the former lasts nine and the letter only three 
hours. The sailors who come to the coast of 
Ireland are obliged to pay great attention to 
these peculiarities. A vessel leaving Dublin 
could, if the wind were favourable, get as far as 
Carlingford with the flood tide from the south, 
and proceed farther to the north with the ebb. 
When the tide again turned she could enter the 
waters of Rathlin, and the back current would 
carry her westward to Malin Head, whence she 
might take advantage of the ebb to get out into 
the Atlantic. 

The waters of Rathlin being thus disturbed 
twice every day, are rough enough, evea in the 
most tranquil weather, but when it blows a gale 
they become so violently agitated as to be scarce- 
ly navigable at all, not only for the little coast- 
ers, but even for ships of the largest size. The 
prevailing winds, as well as the greatest tides, 
coming in of course from the open ocean, the 
western side of Rathlin presents a magnificent 
spectacle of eWmous waves dashing Tor ever 
upon its shore, in winter so tempestuous a sea 
rages round the island, that its inhabitants are 
sometimes cut off' for months fh)m all comma- 
»' nation with any other land than their own. 

Such a place seems well adapted to aflord a 
refuge to a fugitive king, and accordingly Rob- 
jcrt Bruce found an asylum there, when compelled 
jto fly his kingdom shortly after his coronation. 

He came hither with three hundred armed 

men, in the autumn of the year 1306, and amid 

/ the basaltic rocks, the storfns, and the boiling 

surf of Rathlin, defied all pursuit, and, returning 

to Scoäaad in the spring, began tiie eventfal war 



whtcb terminated/in 1314, in the glorioQS vic- 
tory of Bannockbom. 

When Brace landed the island was, as it is 
now, inhabited by a simple race that sul aisted 
by fishing, tending a few sheep, and by cultiva- 
ting a few patches of oats. At first they fled 
from the sight of the raail*clad knight and his 
fuUoweis; but when they i'ound that he treated 
them with kindness and gentleness, tiiey daily 
brouffht food to their guests— fish, motion, and 
oatcakes — and ended by choosing him &>r their 
chief, and delivering up to him for a dwelling, a. 
castle that had stood since the most ancient times 
upon the island, and the ruins of which, bearing: 
the name of Bruce Castle, are still to be seen on 
a lofty perpendicular rock rising from the water 
on its eastern side, whence there is a view into* 
Scotland. The ruins at present consist of little- 
more than some fragments of walls. 

The present successor of Robert Brace in the 
dominion of the island fs a Mr. Gage, who being 
also rector and chief magistrate, is at the same 
time temporal and spiritual head of Rathlin, be- 
sides being the ground landlord, and rules it by 
more titles than many a king does his kingdom^ 
although the external splendour of a crown may 
be wanting to him. This gentleman is a vassal 
of the Antrim family, holding the i>land by a 
lease for ever, granted in 1740^ and pays a trifliDg ' 
tribute to Lord Antrim, who, though Mr. Gage 
is the proprietor, bears the title of Chief of Rath- 
lin, but never attempts to interfere in the aflTaiis 
of the island. The tenanU of the rector are aH 
what are called tenants ** at vrill,'* that is, they can. 
at his pleasure he deprived of their land and driv- 
en from the island. Mr. Gage; if he were so in- 
clined, might fix his residence at Dnblin, or any 
other place, and farm out its revenues to a mid- 
dleman, who might again divide and distribute 
the island to other middlemen, and so there might 
be an ascending ladder, up to the sovereign her- 
self (to whom, under certain circumstances, the 
island may revert), the whole weight of which- 
would press on the neck of the wretched tenant, 
as it really happens in many cases in Ireland. 

One of the conditions, uader which, not only 
this island but all the possessions of the'Antrimi 
family, would fall to the crown, is that of failing 
to send a certain number of falcons to the vice- 
roy of Ireland, on the anniversary of the feast 
of St. John the Baptist. In the same nranaer 
the island of Rathlin would revert to the Antritt 
family if Mr. Gage should neglect payment of 
the tribute, or " Chief-rent." 

The number of inhabitants in Rathlin amoaat» 
to about eleven hundred— or rather did so in 
1758, when the ruler of the island laid on thenk 
a tax of a shilling a head, in order to build a 
new mass-house, as they csll here what would 
be elsewhere termed a Catholic church. The 
sum was not obtained without diflSculty, for the 
islanders resisted the attempt to number them, 
nieder the belief that some one was sure to die 
out of every family whose heads were counted. 

Even in this island the relation between tb» 
Catholics who are ruled, and the Protestant» 
who rule, is the same as over all Ireland. The 
rector and proprietor, who resides here with his 
family the whole year, and is possessed of aH 
imaginable comforts and enjoyments, is a Prot- 
estant; but his poor tenants and vassals, from 
whom be derives bis income, and who, in order 
to pay ft, have to fish in these storm v seas, t» 
raise «ats, and gather sea- weed, are poor Catho- 
lics, with theeoteeptioik of about seventy or eightf ; 



IRELAND. 



of their mimber. The Proleetant vector, how- 
ever, pays a Gaiholjc priest, aqd, as I have said, 
maioiatiis a mass-house. He is said to keep 
his sabjeets in very good order. In winter, ol' 
coarse, he leads rather a solitary life, but in 
summer he receives many visits* from friends 
and relations in Ireland and Scotland. His eld- 
est son will be rector and owner of the island 
after him ; the youngest will probably be advan- 
ced to some other benefice through the father's 
interest in the church. Such is the course of 
things in the established episcopal church of 
Ireland. 

The sheep of Raihlin bear a very high char- 
acter on account of the excellence of the pastu- 
rage. In the north of Ireland these sheep go by 
the name of Rashries, an appellation also be- 
stowed on the islanders, who, on account of their 
simplicity and rudeness, are oAen the subject of 
merriment to the canlmentaHsts, for Ireland ap- 
pears, with respect to the island of Rathlin, in 
the light of a continent. The Irish language is 
spoken in this as in most of the other islands, 
and in those of Scotland the Gaelic has kept its 
pkce longer than in the rest of the country. The 
Dorses of the island are as remarkably small as 
those of the Scottish islands, and as those also 
of the island of Gothland in the Baltic sea. A 
story is even^told of the Rathlin people having 
nui away terrified from a good-sized horse that 
was brought over from Ireland, regarding it as 
a monster. The onl^ quadrupeds native to the 
island are rats and mice. Foxes were once sent 
over, with a view to make a new hunting-ground 
for the Antrim family ; but the people, who ha- 
ted the foxes, found means to induce the hunts- 
men to disobey orders, whereupon the Antrims 
levied a vearlv tax, for the privilege of remain- 
ing free from foxes. The people appear to have 
a great dread of these animals, for I once heard 
a woman say to a child who was crying, " Be 
still, or the fox shall fetch you !'' This might 
sound comical enough to an African mother, 
who would probably threaten her child with the 
lion. In Germany the wolf generally plays this 
part, bat in Rus^a the wolf is too common, and 
people are obliged to have recourse to the bear. 
'^ The islanders, as I have said, cultivate a lit- 
tle barley and oats, but one of their principal 
sources of profit consists in gathering sea-weed, 
and making kelp. They gather the weed after 
a storm from the shore, or cut it from the rocks 
where it grows, and spread it oat in the son tb 
dry. In the evening they gather it together in 
heaps, which, the next day, are again spread 
out to dry. When the plants are sufficiently 
dry, they make a hole in the sjound, line it with 
stones, and burn the weed slowly and cautioosly 
to ashes. The vegetable salts fall to the bottom 
of the hole, and are taken out and sold in a mass, 
for the Rathlin people have not the skill to sep- 
arate from it several foreign substances with 
which it is combined. This preparation of kelp 
provides occupation to many of^the inhabitants 
along the whole northern coast of Ireland, and 
the southwestern coasts of Scotland ; and a con- 
siderable trade is carried on in the exportation 
of the article to England. The greatest punish- 
ment, it is said, which is ever inflicted on a 
Rathlin man, is to banish him to the mainland 
•f Ireland, which the islanders regard entirely as 
a foreign country; the same thing, I remember- 
ed, had been tow me concerning the people of 
the Hand of Ronoe in the Gulf of Riga. 

'^-'l as is the islnod of Rathlin, it is said its 



inhabitvMs are divided into two ^te distinclr 
races. The western, or longer end, called Ken- 
ramer, is rocky and mounuinous, but the little* 
hollows and valleys there are fertile and weU 
cultivated } it is, however, entirely destitute of 
harbours, whilst the tract called Ushet is level 
r>nd barren, but very accessible, and offers abunr 
dant shelter fur shipping. The Ushet men are 
therefore the fishermen, sailors, and merchants 
of the inland, and carry on a>llvely trade with the> 
neighbouring little Scotch and Irish marketr 
towns. They generally speak English, and have 
lost many of their insular peculiarities. The 
Ken ramer men, on the other band, live apart and 
independently on their wing of the island, culti- 
vate their fields, and climb their rocks in search 
of the eggs of the sea-fowl. This forms one of 
their chief occupations ; «and as many of the rocks 
rise perpendicularly out of the sea to a height of 
750 feet, the manner of reaching the nest is by 
means of a rope let down from the edge of the- 
precipice. They often go out quite alone for this 
purpose, and fastening their rope to some pro- " 
jectmg point, draw themselves up and down aS' 
the occasion may require. As they have little 
intercourse with strangers, they have, of course, 
preserved their Irish language, and their primi- 
tive manners, more pure than the men of Usbet^ 
The difierence between these two races is so* 
striking, and they are themselves so well aware 
of it, that in difficult works, in which the roefe> 
climbing Kenramers and the maritisie Ushet 
men must the employed together, they oAen point 
out the posts to which it will be necessary to a{^- 
point East and West Islanders. 

As the Isle of Man was formerly an apple of* 
discord between England and Scotland, so has 
Rathlin been between Scotland and Ireland. 
Many of the quarrels of Scotch and Irish chief- 
tains have been fought out on this spot; and 
many of the tombs discovered on a little plain in 
the centre of the island, and the numerous bronze 
swords and lance-heads dug up there, prove it to 
have^been the scene of more than one sanguinanr 
struggle. The cruelties perpetrated here by th*e 
clan of the Campbells jn one of these forays, re- 
mained so long in the memoir of the Rathlin' 
people, that so late as the end of the last century 
no one bearing this name was allowed to land 
on the island, and indeed the law to that effect^ 
has never been repealed. 

From the earliest period of Irish history. Rath* 
lin has been mentioned as an inhabited place ;■ 
and in the fiflh century the Scotch and Irish 
apostle, St. Columba, founded here a monastery, 
which, like so many other pious establishments- 
of the kind in Ireland, flourished till the com- 
mencement of the ninth century, when the gieat 
barbarian deluge which had flowed over Gep- 
many, France, Italy, England, Ireland, and Scot- 
land, swept even across the little island of Rath- 
lin, and buried its holy edifice in ruin. 

CAPE FAIR HEAD. 

As the continuance of the gale frustrated my 
intention of visiting Rathlin, I resolved to exe- 
cute two other excursions which I had planned, 
from Ballycastle, one to the celebrate^ north- ^ 
eastern Irish promontory of Benmore, or Fair ' 
Head, and the other eastward to the Giant's 
Causeway. The great masses of basaltic rock 
which lie eastward from Ballycastle, form a 
kind ofplaUan or table- land, presenting a stee]^ 
cJiflT on the seaside, but declining a little Uk 



Itt. 



IREXAKIX 



the iKievfin «o* n» to itiinglB mMt the 
<illMr bighhui^ •? Cke cfNiaVf of Aniritn. On 
the Ian4-«icle tbi» pt&tMm w- covered with a damp 
nHmhy seil» overgrown with inosB Bfid grass. 
and there are a few fem» npon H, of whteh the 
boMers' are oecupied m^ grazing cattle. To- 
warde- the eea, however, where the roek falls 
abroptly with a precipice of five or six hundred 
feet, the naked Mack basalt alone is visible. 
The highest point, about six hundred and thiny- 
eir feet above the level of the sea, is Cape Ben- 
more or Fair Head. Visiters generally drive to 
a linle fann, called the Farm of the Cross, 
which lies in a hollow immediately bebind the 
Head, and where tbe waters have collected into 
two little lakes, one called Lough Dhu, or. 
Black Lake, and the other Lough Naerana, or, 
the Lake of the Island. At the farm it becomes 
oecessary to leave one's carriage and proceed 
the rest of the way on foot. The farmer, Pat^ 
rick JamesBon, who drives bis cows to the very 
br»w of Benaiore, was to se^ve as my guide, 
4iad waa accompanied by a servant or neighbour. 

Tbe little island in the Lake Naeraoa is tra 
-diüenally stated to have been built by the Oru- 
ida, and employed in their religious worship 
It iiaea in a perfectly regidar oval figure from 
tba sorfttce of the water, and consists entirely 
•of blaok baaailie rock^ fragments of which lie 
round the shores of tbe lake in great numbers 
Ita poaitkMi in the middle of a lake on the sum- 
«mü of a vast headland, is certainly one which 
they wfm\d have been likdy to choose. 

Benmore is mentioned by Ptolemy (it is his 
R&hogtUum Pramonforium), a proof that it was 
itftowo and even celebrated before tbe Christian 
period. 

From the lake we ascended gradually to the 
liigfaest point of the cape, by a very disagreea- 
^ble path, in which one foot generally trod upon 
sharp, rocky points, while the other sunk in 
iKig. The fartlier we went, however, the less 
inconvenient it became, and near the brink of 
the precipice it waa quite fiat and dry. It was 
very curious when we reached this spot, to find 
tha( the wind, which had all along been very 
high, suddenly fell to a perfect caln^ but the 
^explanation offered by my companion, seemed a 
very plausible way of accounting for tbe pbe- 
>nomenon. The wind, sweeping across the 
ooean» strikes on the perpendicnlar face of the 
rock, and ts broken and sent upward at a r^ht 
angle, so that tbe current becomes vertical 
s instead of horiaontal. About five or six hun- 
«dred'feet behind the face of the rock, the wind 
again fell to ita natural course along the sur 
face of the ground, and swept on as before, 
forming over the summit of the precipice a 
kiiMi of arcih, under which, exposed as was the 
poBition, we enjoyed a perfect calm. 

The basalt, it is well known, is found in large, 
compart, irregular masses, the fVactores of which, 
however, follow certain known laws, and some- 
times assume a regular columnar structure. 
These columns are in general clustered thinly 
together, hut occasionally, where atmospheric 
influences have had free operation, form distinct 
pillars standing almost out from the walls. From 
the completely irregular masses, to these there 
are many gradation» of structure ; that of Fair 
Head itself resembles a conglomeration of the 
trunks of gigantic gnarled oaks, of which here 



and tier» one stands out ia high lalief ; aM 
these are nsuafly Aable to flUI, aUboagh tbei» 
is one wbieb has stood Ibr oentwies entiMly^ 
apart. The columnar stmcture is not oidy dts- 
tingwshable at the aide, but even on the iiai 
surface, where the fractures cross Jn ItneÄ likn 
ihe meshes of a large, coarse, irregtdar net- 
work. 

On the sumtnH of Fan* Head we were exactly ' . 
»pposite Rue Point, the nearest part of the j 
island of Rathlin, and about four miles distant 
The eastern side of this promontory presents 
the same basaltic structure as Benmore, and it 
is probable that the island has been torn from 
the mainland by some violent convulsion of na- 
ture. The long coast of the western wing of 
Rathlin was so plainly visible to us as we stood 
on Fair Head, that we could distinguish Church 
Bay, and tlte two districts of Ushet and Ken- 
raraer. A mountain was pointed out to us, sa 
the site of Bruce Castle, and its high chaikf 
clifl^ and black cap of basalt were clearly dia- 
oernible,.so that I could hardly persuade myself 
that it was impossible to reach it, although th» 
inland was surrouaded by a tremendous s«rt 
My guides informed me thai there wss ahnost 
always a tempestuous widd on Rathbn, so that 
no tree would grow in the reetor^s gatden^ and 
all over tbe island there were aoae larger thaa. 
bushes. So soon as any tree grsw ahovn tha 
level of the garden-watt, it began to sicken and 
die. 

From the summit of tbe Head we descended 
through a deep clefl, called the. Gray Man'» 
Path, to the shore. It resembles a rudelycot 
gigantic staircase, and so violent a wind roshea 
up the gully, that, at the very first step, it seized 
my hat, mantle, books, and maps, and sent them 
whirling into tbe air. With a great deal of la- 
bour and difl!culty. I contrived to regain pos- 
session of my eflfects, and stowed them away 
snugly in a hole behind a great basaltic column. 
One of these had fallen right across the entrance 
to the Gray Man's Path, and looked as if it 
were likely to fall stlU farther. Tbe top of the 
clefl is not more than eight or ten feet wide, 
but it opens oitt farther down ; and as the col« 
Umns are broken oflTatdifiereol beightSySadaEa 
fiat at the U>p, it is possible to step froiiji ona. 
to another in descending. Tbey are not usual» 
ly of one piece, but formed of several b)oek% 
twelve or fourteen feet high, placed ose abova 
the other, which breidc asunder when the ool«- 
umns fall. Tbe height of the columns is osuallyr 
about 25& feet, and their entire weight resta 
upon a bed of clay<slate, beneath which again 
Ite^ a bed of eoah although it wouM seem that 
the heavy basalt, which is as hard as iron, ought 
properly to lie beneath, and the comparatively 
brittle coal and slate to occupy the upper place. 
It is, in fact, the fragile nature of this substratum 
that occasions many of tbe falls of tbe columns 
I have mentioned, as they often lose their fown- 
datiobs from the brittle and destructible nature 
of the clay-slate ; but these falls are also caused 
by the water penetrating the fissures of the 
rtjcks, where, by freezing in the winter, it con- 
tinually widens them, when this sort of action 
has continued for centuries, and the bed of clay- 
slate has become sod and bpoken, the colunms 
lose their balance, and in some winter nig^W 
whsu all th9 elements are in uproar, bresdc awsjn 



IRSLAND. 



as^loBd a« tiMt itf thiuid»r, aid 
intwa thMsand frafVMMa. amid the 
n^ng^ braakera. Bvea ttia bed of olayvstat«, on 
vhieli tha basall raatSr is four hundred feet 
äwve the sea« so that the muawnt when the 
eotoma makes its saUo morktk into the boihng 
depth beneath, most present a grand spectacle, 
tbom^ probably one never witnessed bj oitHtal 
^egw. These wad sports of aatare are nsaally 
«oooiBpanied by so much danger, that they ban- 
ish homan spectators teom their neighboarhood. 

Bekiw, at the base of the prontontoiy of Fair 
Headi one might soppose a party of Titans had 
been at play with the vast fragaüents of basaltic 
niek, of aii sizes and shi^s, that lie tumbled 
otwr oae another in heaps in all directions, and 
had pelted one another with portions of Egyp- 
tian pjrramids, obehsks, Pompey's pillars, Ste- 
phen's towers, and eastle wails. Maay blocks 
have falien and rolled down far into the sea, 
and the surf dashes up high above them, into 
the elefU and crevices of the rocks. The great 
■arch, which forms a sort of crown across the 
lop of the oohnnas at the summit of the prom- 
'OBloiy; has a grand efi^t, and resembles a gi- 
^ntio civic crown on the head of a Roman cit* 
Izen. From the shore, the Gray Man^s Path 
«hows only like a thin line, and the column 
lymg across its top^ which kioks so threatening 
to any one deseending. through the deft, is not 
to be distinguished ftomthe rest. To reascead 
this« path from the sea to the summit of the 
rock, took us about an hour, though the wind 
eertainly h^ped to drive us up the gulley. We 
iound our varioos chattels in the place where 
we had hidden them, behind the basalt pillar. 

I took my dinner at the farm of the Benmore 
sbephord. It consisted of whiskey, oatcake, 
«ad a sort of omelet made of tbur eggs fried in 
-a pan. The hostess, like most Irish mothers, 
was aarremidetl by a mob of children, in which 
pnaduot even the most barren parts of the eme- 
rald isle seem to he abandantly fruitful. With 
us in Germany, it sometimes haf^ns that the 
fine and fertile distnets are somewhat overpop- 
Qleus ; but in Ireland the rocks and bogs are so 
Bwarming with human creatures, that one might 
fiiQcy they were hatched, like the w»14 sea-fowl, 
in the chinks and crevices of the rocks. It is 
said that the catholic priests are chiefly to blame 
fgr this, as tkey urge the young people to the 
Tory early marriages so common in this coun- 
try, and which are a main source of income to 
the catholic clergy. 

On the side of the river opposite to Bidlyeas- 
tle protestantism begins again. " There they're 
all in the presbyterian way," said the farmer, 
^* like the Highland people." Our principal con- 
versation over oar turf fire was, however, on 
the subject common to palace and' cottage all 
the world over — namely, that of the weather ; 
how fine it had been a fäw days ago, anJ what 
a " tgrribk break dawn'* had come all on a sud- 
den, and how it would probably mend before 
long, d&e , &o. 

In the afternoon I returned to tea to my 
Hisses Mac Bonndl, and was met by eager 
^oestions. 

" Well, are yen pleased T " Have yon been 
^isoppoiatedr* «< What do yon think of Ben- 
.more ?" 
. To alt thMe glorias I was fortumitaly able to 



retaramostaakislhctavjrTBplisa: and the 3 
ladies retired to bed wall pleased with Um 
amount of pleasure I. had felt, and of admtratio» 
I was able to bestow oa their, beloved fiitha»» 
land. 

THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAT. 

On the feUowing day I prepared for my es»- 
cursion to the Giant's Causeway. The wiaA 
was still bowling along over the sea, and rashi- 
ing in violent gusts and eddies among the redot» 
breaking against their perpendicular sides» aad 
dashing up in wilder tumult probably, than ever 
did ih6 waters ofthe ocean in their utmost fury. 
On the coast I remarked many of the ^ puffing« 
holes*' I have already menttoaed, from whiok 
the water was rushing as if from the nostrils of 
the whale. My equipage was again the little. 
Irish car with, one horse, and my imaginatkni 
was filled with the things that I was going to 
see. The. whole rocky coast of Antrim is cov** 
ered with the ruins of ancient castlets of the> 
heroic period glorified in the Iri^h and Scoteb 
ballads^ Immediately beyond Ballycaatle, on m 
lofly perpendicular rode rising out ofthe oeeaa» 
lie the ruins of two of them — Dun ing and Ken- 
baan Castles, and on the left of the road those 
of a still mightier work of human hands, thai 
found tower of Armoy. 

The rocks near Ballycastle are eatirely ot 
limestone, but when the basalt again makas its 
appearance it presents the most fantastic forms. 
One of the most interestiag points is Carriek^a*' 
Rede, which consists of two rocks formed of 
clusters of basaltic columns, each two hundred 
feet high, and several thousand feet in ciroum«» 
ferenee. The one is eeaaected b; a little isthmua 
with the mainland, but the other is pushed out 
fax mto the sea, aad separated from the^ other 
by a deep chasm. A little island lying not frir 
from it presented a pretty contrast with its 
bright green grass to the Mack basalt. It ia 
called, like many others on the coast of both 
Ireland and Scotland, Sheep island, aa they are 
used for no other purpose than for feeding sheepw 
In aammer this island is connected with th» 
promontory by means of a hanging bridge made 
of three ropes. Some skilful elimbera fasten 
two of them to iron nags which have beeit 
driven into the rock on eaäi side, and then fas^ 
ten others across, like the rings of a ladder, and 
lay over them small boards. The third rope is 
then fastened in a little higher, to serve as a 
handrail. This little bridge, which is above 
sixty feet long, of course shakes with every 
step and swings to and fro in the wind, yetevea 
the women with children in their arms never 
hesitate to cross it. In the autumn it is alwaya 
taken down lest it should be blown away, and 
the ropes lost, and unfortunately this precautiour 
ary measure had been adopted when I saw the 
island, so that I could not cruss over to it. The 
shfeep remain on it the whole winter, never fail- 
ing to find food, and sheltering themselves from 
the storms in the caves and hoUoWs. Many 
such bridges as I have described are to be met 
with on the coasts of Ireland and Scotland ; iur 
deed it is the usual mode of estaUisbing a com*, 
munication between two rocks, and it is ratber 
curious that this system of suspension- bridges 
shottkl have beea^ toüiar \o rude fisfaermea i^^- 



IftSLAND. 



^gfflber^ in these remote oornere of the em- 
^re, beftire the prinelple attmoted the atteatioo 
•f great thinkers and inTentors, or w» applied 
to important uoderukings. 

The picture tbrined by the two rocks of Car- 
riek-a-llede, with the little island whose black 
basaltic fuundaitim was visible from the shore 
benedth its verdant covering, and the wild break- 
em rashinz towards it, and bursting into high 
dashing foam, was really beautiful. On the in- 
ner si^ of the island, which was turned to- 
wards tts, there was a little bay, enclosed by 
high rocks which sheltered it from every breath 
of wind, so that it lay smooth and unruled as 
a mirror, though close to the tumultuous tossing 
of the agitated ocean ; here in the summer is an 
important salmon fishery; for as the salmon 
oome up in the spring from the open sea, to 
spawn in the bays and mouths of rivers, and al- 
ways move along close to the shore, they get 
into the straight between the island and the 
mainland, and linger about this quiet liule bar 
boor. The fishermen take thehr measures ac- 
cordingly, and on the shore of the bay a hut has 
been built for their accommodation. Through- 
out the whole north of Ireland, the salmon fish 
ery is a very important branch of trade, an>i 
from the most ancient times, salmon have been 
carried thence to the markets of Spain and 
even Italy. 

Going farther along the coast, we again came 
to a ruined castle, lying on a mass of rocks that 
projected far into the sea. It is the Castle of 
Danseverick, said to have been built by an Irish 
king, Sobhairee, eight hundred years before the 
birth of Christ ! These castles on island n»cks, 
are quite a distinguishing characteristic of the 
north of Ireland ; but the largest and finest of 
aU is that of Dunluce near the Giant^a Cause- 
way. Dunseverick is, howpver, said to he one 
•f the three most ancient castles in all Ireland, 
and it is through the builder of this ancient pile 
that many of the old Milesian families trace 
their descent from Mdesius. 

Our approach to the great natural marvel 
which was the immediate object of our excur- 
sion, was made manifest by the number of per- 
sons who came to offer their services, as guides. 
As in Ireland twelve men always oflTer them- 
selves for any job that really requires only one, 
we were soon surrounded by a regular mob. 
some well-dressed, some in rags, hut who all 
presented themselves, as the best possible cice- 
roni for the Giant's Causeway. 

•'Take me, your honour,*' screamed one, **I 
went With Field Marshal Macdonald, when he 
visited his native country." 

"Take me, yonr hononr." shouted another, 
** I went with the Dnke of Wellington and show 
ed him everything, and he was very welt pleased 
with me.*' One had a certificate of merit from 
the Most Ntible the Marquis of Anglesey, and 
his lady and daughter, another from Professor 
Buckland of Oxford. I chose the one whose 
physiognomy recommended him most, and ima- 
ipned that in proclaiming my choice I should de 
Sver myself from the other candidates. Not at 
all. According to the nnfortnnate system of 
their country, they followed me the whole way 
step by step. 

I conjured them at first to refrain from their 
»eedlesB explanations, and leave me to the en- 



|.joyment of this snblisw work of Nstare^^4^ 
gave them nMwey to get rid of them, I estreaw. 
ed them, I vented imprecations upim them^ AU« 
in vain. They porsoed me as dogs would a' 
hare, and at length I yielded to my destiny and 
made no further resistance. One party collect- 
ed stones for. me, another palled me by the 
right arm, another by the left, to show me this 
and that. I was the only visiter a.t this tem- 
pestutms season, and the whole swarm of at- 
tendants had fastened upon me. In summer 
when travellers are more numerousAhey divide 
their attentions, and the stranger has a better 
chance of peace. 

In the vicinity of the Giant's Causeway, be- 
tween the high eoast-kind and the cultivated« 
country, a fine new inn has been built ; here L 
left my vehicle and took some refeshment, ho> 
p ng to get rid of my friends, but they watched« 
ibr me at the door, and gave chase as soon as L 
appeared. 

The word causeway, as is well known, signi- 
fies a high paved road, thrown np like a dike, 
and at the first glance of the Giant's Causeway,, 
the apparent length of which does not exceed 
700 feet, one might be tempted to think it rather 
adapted to the ambulatory powers of dwarfs. 
This, however, is only the beginning of the 
Causeway, which is continued beneath the 
waves of the sea ; and when one baa looked 
with a little more attention at this world-re- 
nowned wonder, one loses all inclination to de- 
preciate its marvels, and in place of disappoint^ 
inent, the spectator abandons himself to the 
most enthusiast» admiration of the splendid», 
incomprehensible, mysterious natural phenome- 
non. Before, however, I can expect my read- 
ers to have any sympathy for my feelings, i 
must oommnnicate to them as much informa- 
t on as I can give, ooneeming its-atrnctcire. 

I have already said that the basalt exhibits > 
itself at Benmore, in the form of a stratum of 
250 feet thtok, running into enormous massive. 
pillars. 'At the Giant's Causeway, however, 
there is not one stratum, but many, and two- 
especially remarkable, which run along the 
whde of this part of the coast, and are separa 
ted by a bed of ochre, which also reappears be- 
neath the lower basalt, and is followed by clay- 
slate, coal, and other rocks. It appeare as it, 
at two separate periods of time, fluid basalt had^ 
been poured over the whole country, and that 
other substances had been deposited in the in* 
terval. As the basalt comes to sight only oa 
Lhe sides of the precipitous shore, and then 
:jplits into long rangjBs of piUars, the word col- 
onnade wtmld well describe its appearance. 
The height of the lower range, or colonnade, 
was stated to me to be fifty-four feet, that of the- 
u pper sixty. The position of the pillare is most- 
fy perpendicular, but not invariably so, and as 
i.he beds of ochrerand other substances on whieb 
they rest vary in thickness, they sometimes sink 
down to the level of the sea, and sometimes 
rise high above it, but are finally lost to the eye, 
hy running beneath the surface of tbe waters — 
first the lower, and then the upper oolonnai'e,. 
near the mouth of the river Bush. Before it. 
reaches the edge of the water, the ochre disap- 
peare, and the naked tops of the basaltic piUai» 
are exposed. 

The colonntdes are oAen brskea by j 



IRELAND. 



109 



' clelU or chasms, snoh as I have descrihed above» 
which appear more recent than the formation 
of the cohmnades. Sometimes there occurs a 
break, or what the Enjj^ish call a ** fault,'* where 
the appearance is as if a whole enormous block 
bad suddenly sunk down, so that the tops of the 
<»Iamns scarcely reach above the base of those 
they were before on a level with. Besides the 
two principal ranges which I have described, 
there occur also others more irregular in their 
structure, which make their appearance between 
«or from below them. In the ochre there oöcur 
stripes and beds, containing iron ore. In the 
basalt itself is found a stratum of coal, and 
bere and there occur thin strata of clay resem- 
bling Puzzuolan earth. Nowhere can the geol- 
, ogist have a better opportunity of studying the 
structure of basaltic columns than at the Gi- 
ant's Causeway, where Uiere are the finest spe- 
-cimen*s in the world. Most of the columns are 

' bexagonal, as a soil round body compressed 
closely on all sides by others of the same form 
must necessarily be. A fdmiliar instance of 

. this occurs in the cell of the bee. Such a form, 
however, woi^d only be assumed under the sup- 
position that all the round shads were of one 
equal diameter ; and as this has, not been al- 
ways the case, some are found which have 
•4hree, four, five — up to eight or nine sides, the 
4atter are very rare. The pillars of course do 
'Hot staod apart, but are squeezed compactly t<»- 
.|[ether, so that a considerable Ibrce is required 
i4o separate them. The diameter of the greater 
«lumber at the Causeway, is not more than a 
foot or a foot and a quarter, but these are the 
thinnest. aad roost elegantr that are ever found. 
There are, indeed, smaller bawltio crystalliza- 
tions which bavje a diameter of only a few inch- 
es. I myself picked up a number of triangular 
and quadrangular prisms, but they are not so 
regularly and beautifully formed as the pillars 
of the Causeway. Not merely the structure of 
each individual cohimn, but «Iso the compoßi- 
tion of the whole is well wot thy of study. A 
process of crystallization going on in an inani- 
mated mass, would, it might be supposed, pro- 
ceed without ioterruption, according to its most 
rigid laws. This has not, however, been the 
oase, for though there are thousands and tens 
-of thousands standing perpendicularly, there 
«zist many varieties of poaition. I have alrea- 
dy mentioned that some are found lying bori- 
Bontally. At Ushet, on the island of Hathlin, 
there are some that appear to have always ex- 
isted in a slanting direction ; near the promon 
tory of Do<m Point many resemble the bent 
trunks of trees, as if they had not been firm 
enough to stand upright, and had bent over*aod 
cooled in that position, and others appear thrust 
endwise into the mountain, and have their ex- 
tremities sticking out. In a part of the coast, 
.near the Giant's, Causeway, there are some 
which have assumed a waving forqi, yet they 
all lie perfectly parallel (o each other, as if a 

. giant hand had taken the entire mass, while it 
was son, and had bent them over his knee. 
These variously-bent figures cannot be explain- 
ed by the laws of crystallization, which only 
produce regular forms and straight lines, so that 
we most necessarily suppose these peculiarities 
of structure to have been occasioned by circum- 
Btances occurring while the basalt was still 



sofl. Other bodies most have fallen or boBn 
pressed down upon it, and changes are even 
now continually produced by the operation of 
similar causes. 

. If we observe the columns singly, we find 
them to consist of a number of suiäll blocks, 
placed one above another, like stones in a regu- 
lar building, and, M^ithout any cement, so firpily 
united as to require an immense force to split 
them in the seams. In the descripticm of Fair 
Head I have mentioned that the coarse massive 
pillars seen at that promontory are constructed 
of blocks eight or ten feet high ; but in the more 
elegant columns of the Giant's Causeway and 
its neighbourhood, they are not more than from 
six or eight inches to a foot thick or high, so 
that for a pillar of thirty feet thefe are perhaps 
forty of these small blocks. The thickness of 
some does not exceed three or four inches, but 
there are iastanoes where it runs to two or 
three feet. One very remarkable circumstance 
concerning these joints is, that the seam, or 
break, does not go quite through ; but that at 
every corner there occurs a piece of basalt, pass- 
ing from one to the other, and clasping them 
together like a clincher or cramp-iron. > These, 
which the people of the neighbourhood «all 
** spurs," they maintain they must break oflC be- 
fore they can separate the jointa On a eleae 
examination of these blocks when broken apart, 
we find indications of a structure originally 
spheroidal, and in some may be traced radial 
lines proceeding from the centre to the ciroum- 
ference, like those which are sometimes fomd 
on the surface of a bullet flattened againsi a 
stone wall. 

According to all appearance, therelbre-, we 
might suppose the Giant's Causeway, and ttie 
neighbouring strata of pillar^, to have originally 
consisted of an enormous masa of apherieal 
bodies, which, being pressed upon from all sides, 
assumed the form of hexagonal prisms ; but 
this supposition would by no means sufllce to 
explain all the phenomena ; lor if this had been 
the case, the external parts, or layers, mast 
have been pressed flatter, and the interior blocks 
have retained more of a spherical form, which 
is not the fact. 

It is, however, unnecessary to assume that 
they all at one time actually had the globular 
form, though they may all have had the tendency 
towards it. In a freezing mass of oil thera are 
formed innumerable little globules, which gradu- 
ally become hardened into one congealed masa ; 
and thus, in the cooling mass of basalt, acted 
upon by powerfi;! electric and magnetic forces, 
a spherical action may have taken place in the 
particles, which, pressing against each other as 
they increased, at length .necessarily touk the 
figure of horizontal prisms. 

My friend. Dr. Bryce, of Belfast, informed me 
that some pieces of basalt have been found im- 
bedded in the ochre. These had a perfectly 
sperical form, and the outer surface presented 
a kind of transition matter between ochre aad 
basalt, as if they had been thrown in in a fluid 
state. 

With all the exi^anations that can be ofl'ered, 
however, so much is left unexplained, that they 
answer very little purpose. On a close invesMt- 
gation of these wonderful formations, so maiif 
questions arise, that one scarcely ventures to 



no 



IRELAND. 



otter them. With inqoiries of this nature per- 
^ hapB mit the least ^in is the knowledge of how 
'much lies b^ond the timitsfifour inquiries, and 
how things that lir so plain ly before our eyes, 
which we can see and handle, may yet be wrap- 
ped in unfathoinaWe mystery. We see in the 
Giant's Causeway the most certain and obvious 
effects produced by the operation of active and 
^wiefful forces, which entirely escape our scru- 
tiny. This remark may indeed apply, to a cer- 
tain eaAent, to every one of the works of Nature ; 
^ut in this case her operations have been car- 
ried on on so stupendoas a scale, and all lies 
so elear before the eye, that one cannot avoid 
heing^ more forcibly impressed. We walk over 
•the heads of forty thousand columns (for this 
Bomber has been counted by some cnrious and 
leisurefy personsX all beautifully cot and polish- 
■ edfforaied of such small neat jiieces, so exactly 
•fitted to each cither, and so deverly supported, 
that we might fiincy we had 'before us the work 
«f hifenious 'homan artificers ; and yet what 
Wit Miold is Hie resttit 4if the immutable laws 
of natore, aeting wifbottt an apparent <>bject, 
end by a pnioess wbi^ must remam forever a 
«lyalery to oor «oderstaiiding. Even the sira- 
flest iiüfaines it is oflen impossible to answer : 
•Dch, lor instanoe, as how far these colonnades 
ffOD oat beneath the sea, and how far back into 
Hm land, which throws orer them a ml as im- 
fenetraMe as that «f ooean. A geologist might 
fweil wish, in his daspair, to transform himself 
into a iHole, in or^r to borrow his way to the 
iSfdotioB of these tmeresting problems, or into a 
ish, to seek them beneath ikie ** watery floor'^ 
«ftbe Atlafitie. 

The beauty, aocunicy, and I might say catf , 
tritb which the i^htra of the Oiaat's Causeway 
Haw been wrought oat by the mystic powens 
>af nature, ^oduee a powerfVii emotion, almost 
»sympathetic and tender admirathm. I could 
«ot rest till I had handled what I saw before my 
^es, and felt the smeoth surface of the piHars ; 
and whenever, in the neighboorrng parks and 
gardens, or elsewhere, I ehameed to meet with 
«ame fragments of them, which are often car- 
tied away, they seemed to draw me towards 
Hiem with a mysterious bat irresistible force. 

So much then for the external form, position, 
•Combination, and textot« of the basah of the 
^iant^s Causeway, resemMances to which do 
Indeed <iceur in baa^lticlbrroatfons m different 
farts of the world, hot which are nowhere so 
•flneand regular as these, nor on so magnificent 
a »oale. 

As to the ehemieel eomposition i>f the mate- 
fial, the pore hasalt of the Causeway consists 
4f fifty i»rts of silioeous earth, twenty-five of 
«lay and calcareons earth, and twemy- five parts 
nf iron. Iron and flint are, therefore, its princi- 
pal component parts, and not only occasion its 
^reat specific fravity as weH as closeness, the | 
ieaotifol polish of which it is capable, but also ^ 
Hsfreat fusibility, and the rosfy brownish tinge ; 
sometnnes seen on its naturally black surface ; ' 
ithfs may also account for the fact of all these 
«nlonnhdes and hea^ands being magnetic ; and 
as flint and iron have everywhere a tendency to 
«legular forms and to crystalhaation, the figures 
mostly assumed by basalt can be accounted for. 
The grain of the basalt is usually smooth, close, ! 
•lid equal, but sometimes there occor in it chinks . 



and holes filled with varioos kinds of crystate ;: 
chalcedony and opal, natrolrte, zeoftte, and rock 
crystal. All these are oflfered in great abun- 
dance by the guides, who are ocmstaotly findmg: 
them, and the zeolites especially are some of 
the most heautiful specimens of fibrons crystal* 
lization I have ever seen. 

The giant Fingal, the Hercules of the ancient 
Scotch and Irish, it was who, according totra» 
dition, built this Causeway. He was aecostom- 
ed, äccoiA'mg to the favourite legend, to walk 
along the causeway over from Ireland to Soot- 
land : hut, in more recent times, the greater 
part of his work sank down and was covered by 
the sea. So much of trmh probably lies at the^ 
bottom of this fable, that the basaltic formation^ 
on the opposite coast of Scotland, those of the^ 
Giant*s Causeway, and of the island of Stafib itt 
the Hebrides, are all probably of contemporane- 
ous origin, and attributable to the same natoraf^ 
eanses ; and it is by no means unlikely that eoU 
onnades connecting theae three points are con- 
tinued beneath the ocean, which, as th^ say, i» 
thus paved with basalt." 

The people have not been content with as^ 
eribing these wonderfol flyrmations generafly to- 
their favourite hero. Besides the Caoseway,. 
and Fingal> Cave in the island of Statfh, tb^ 
have discovered aH kinds of Amcied resem- 
blances ; and weiiave, besides the Qmnt'aGate- 
wiiy and the Oiwit^ Chair, the Giant's Loom», 
the 6iam*a Theatre, the 6iant^a Organ, tli& 
€ltant*8 Honeycomb, dte. These whiaks have» 
at all events, the eonvenienee of distingoishing^ 
varioos points with a partieuhir name. The 
Giant*s Well is a little spring gualifng out be- 
tween the crevices fvf some {nllars on the wes- 
tern side of the Causeway, and ronning dowi» 
into the sea. Of the rest of the giants oteaaüa^ 
the most remartcahle ^ the Honeycomb and 
the Organ. The latter makes no part of the 
Causeway, bat is placed apart in the mountain» 
and consists of a nomberof large pHlars declining 
on either side t6 shorter and shorter ones, like 
the strings of a harp ; and one might really Ima- 
gine a grant organist sitting jMayfng at it, espe- 
cially as the basaltic pillars, when struck, giva 
fiirtb a metallic ring. The Honeycomb is a 
duster of pHlars projecting from the middle of 
the colonnade. The great caoaeway tons oot 
seven hundred feet mto ^» sea befbr^ it is cov- 
ered by the waves, except in stormy weather. 
As the water was very rough when I visited it» 
I eoitld not disttngoisb the entire length of Che 
dike, except at momentary intervals. 

In addition to the many existing memorials 
of the giant's housekeeping, his present succes- 
sor, Tiord Antrim, the giant of the present day» 
who is the oMmer of more of these gigantic mar- 
vels than «ne coold well ooont, has had a sort 
of saloon arranged, which the people call <* My 
Lord*s Parlour," and where benches have heen 
constructed by breaking away rows of^soimmis, 
and leaving their stumps «tending. At bunt- 
ings, and on other occasions. Lord Antrim has 
given entertainments there ; but tlie gmnd fes- 
tival, whi(^ is repeated every year, and which 
brings together a great eoncoorae of people, and 
occasions much merriment, is a fair h^ld here 
on the 13th of August. The hooihs stretch the 
whole way fnmi the inn I liave mentioned, to 
the coast, and even, in calm weather, out over 



IRELAND. 



Ill 



liie tops of tbe pillars of the Causeway. This 
§ay and in<«tley a^aetnbUge of an Irish fiair must 
present a curious spectacle amid ttie solemn 
.grandeur of this wonderful work c»f Nature. 

Ttie (guides on the causeway are always par- 
tit^ttlarly anxious to point out all the columns 
distinguished for their height or the regularity 
of their figures» and some were shown as heing 
perfectly mathematical squares, having ail their 
sides and angles equal ; others as hexagonal, 
and equally accurate. The triangular one is 
unique, at the Giant*s Causeway, and the octan- 
gular one shown to me is surrounded by six 
«xaet bexagims, the predominant figure, for 
among every hundred pillars seventy are usually 
W this iwtn. 

It was with the greatest reluctance that I at, 
length tore myself from the contejoaplation of 
this most interesting phenomenon. I would fain 
•have taken with me not only a specimen of eve- 
ry kind of pillar, but also a perfect model of the 
whole •construction, had it been possible to pro- 
cure one. If ihe philosopher has reason to ex- 
claim ** Ars longa wiu bfevUj^'the tnveller has 
«qjual. oaose to cooaider the day too short lor the 
fipa^y bsavtiies he has to survey. 

THE iBAYS AHB HEADLANDS. 

•Scarce^ leas beautiful and .interesting than 
tiie causeway itself are the baya and headlands 
m iu neigbbuarhood. Along the whole line of 
•oast, from tbe mouth of the little river Bush to 
tba prumoblory of Bengore Head« runs a chain, 
«f small, but deep, round, and elegant bays, each 
cnci^r^ded by ranges of basaltic pillare. in the 
form of ^n amphitbeatro ; with the variegitted 
strata of ochre, sandstone, and clay-slate. The 
Jbeads of the promontories, lofty and precipitous 
•inasses of basalt« base usually, piles of fragments 
^ng like ruina at their Seek and th^ form a 
no|se 0f magnificent capes, which, whether for 
Yariety or bwity,, could scarcely find a parallel. 
^ß^n from the sea, these black headlands be- 
CfMne confounded into one d^rk mass, and the 
whole itract; four miles long, is known to sail- 
ors by the name of Bengore Head. To the 
traveller on tbe shore, who can distinguish the 
-various ieatures of the coast, its appearance is 
iar more striking. 

The first bay, lying on the western side of 
the causeway, is called Port Noffer Bay, an ap- 
pellation probably compounded of a corruption, 
of the JBngUsh and Irish terms jnoibled togeth- 
er, ^rom here one ascends by a path called 
4be '* Shepherd's Path." to the brow of the clifT, 
which fi>r a gi^at distance back into the coun- 
try is perfectly smooth and level, and covered, 
with grass. Over this beautiful turf one can 
walk round all the bays, and out even to the ex- 
trenoe. points of tbe headlands ; for, tremendous 
as from beneath appear the rocks and chasms of 
this iron- bound coast, nothing can he more quiet 
and harmless than their appearance from above, 
where one may wade to within a few paces of 
the brink of the precipice without dreaming of 
tbe evidence of terrible struggles and convul 
•ions <»f nature presented below. The sheep 
and geese wander grazing to the utmost edges 
of the clifi* f^y twenty ragged ciceroni scram- 
bled like sh^ep up tbe path I have mentioned, 
scK^aming and chattering, and carrying, on« my I 



cloak, another my umbrella, another my tele- 
scope, all which articles they had taken posses- 
sion of against my will. The wind blew hard, 
and their rags fluttered^in all directions in & 
most picturesque manner, and thus we gained 
the summit of the mountain. 

^fter Port Noffer Bay came the Oiant*8 Am- 
phitheatre, then PortReoStan, then'Roveran val- 
ley, then Port na Spania, and every one of the 
capes or headlands separating them had its sep- 
arate name. The temptation was quite irresist- 
ible to run out upon every one of them, for the- 
view was always varying, and always beautiful. 
The high surf dashing against the. projecting 
points, the tranquil sheltered tittle bays, with 
tiny islands imbosohied within them, the wide 
pi-ospect over the vast .\tlantic, the long tine of 
coast to Innishowen Head, tbe narrow entrance 
to Lough Poyle in the distance— fbr all this ( 
found my bairday quite insufiicient. The bay 
called the Giant's Amphitheatre is certainly tho 
most beautiful amphitheatre in the world, that 
in Rome not excepted. The form of it is ao 
exact a haUVcircle that no architect conld liave 
possibly made it more so, and the cliff illopes at 
precisely the same angle all ronnd to the centfe. 
Round the tipper part runs a row of columns 
eighty feet high: then comes a broad wunded 
projection, like i^n immense henoh ibr the ac- 
commodation of the giant .guests of Fin Mac- 
Cul ; then again a range of pillars si^ feet 
high, and then again a.gfgantic bench ; and so- 
down to the bottom, where the water is en- 
closed by a circle qf black boulderstones, lik& 
the limits of the arena. This is a scene in. 
speaking of which no traveller need fear hi- 
dulging in terms ofexaggeration, for all that jie 
,can say roust remain iiir behind the truth. 

The wind was so unusually violent, and the' 
smooth tttcf so damp and slippery, that I and 
my ragged company deemed it most advisable 
to lie down and creep to the edge of the preci- 
pice. Here we lay holding last by the grass» 
ancllookiQg down into the depth ; and even here,, 
four hundred f^et above the ocean's level, wo 
were sprinkled by tbe spray of the foaming sea,, 
which sometimes flew on the wings of the wind 
over our heads and far into the country. I was^ 
amused at seeing that when I dragged nay self 
across a narrow projecting ledge of rock to look 
down into the western bay. my Paddies did ex- 
actly the same thing ; and when I went to the 
other side and bioked into the eastern one, they 
repeated this experiment also, and exhibited to 
the west a full view of their naked legs and torn 
breeches. They were always anxious to point 
out to me whatever they considered interest- 
ing. " This bay, your honour," they screamed 
above the storm, "is called Port na Spania — 
that is, port of the Spaniards; and those high 
black ro<iks there are called the chimney-tops. 
Both have their name fmm the Spaniards — that 
is. from the great Spanish armada. One of their 
biggest ships was driven out of its course, 
and against Bengore Head, by just such a wind 
as is blowing to-day. The Spaniards took the 
rocks for b>g chimneys, and bombarded them, 
and eihot down a g4»od many of them, that 
have been rolling backwards and forwards in 
the surf ever since, and it wasn't till the ship 
was a wreck, and they taken prisoners, that 
they found out how mistaken they'd been.*' 



11» 



IRELAND. 



On the Scotch coast also, many spots are 
pointed out as the scene of destruction of the 
▼essels belonging touthe Spanish armada. The 
admiral's ship, as is well known, was driven as 
far as the Shetland isles. 

After creeping round and viewing many other 
points, we came to.Pieaskin, or, as the Irish 
call it, Plaisg cian, that is, the Dry Head, which 
is the finest of all the promontories, as the Gi- 
ant^s Amphitheatre is of the bays. Its form is 
grand ana imposing, and it is thrown boldly for- 
ward into the sea, like the bastion of a mighty 
fortress. Its structure is much varied, present- 
ing no less than twelve or thirteen different 
stratas, among which the often mentioned 
double colonnade is the most distinguished. 
Its colours are fresh and lively; the bright 
green of the top, the deep black of the basalt, the 
red tinge of some of the strata which contain 
oxide of iron, the various colours of the ochre, 
afford a beautiful variety. 

Hamilton, whose work, though written fifty 
years Ago, still remains the best source of in- 
formation concerning the Giant's Causeway, 
and generally for the whole basaltic region of 
the north of Ireland, gives the following esti- 
mate of the structure of Pleaskin : 

1. Summit. l*hin stratum of earth and vege- 
table soil, and irregular masses of basalt, bro- 
ken and splintered at the surface — 12 feet. 

2. Perpendicular range of coarse basaltic col- 
umns— ^0 feet. 

3. Stratum of rough unformed basalt, show- 
ii\g only a slight tendency to assume a regular 
form— io feet. 

4. Second range of regular pillars, elegantly 
formed and divided— 40 feet. 

5. Stratum of red clayey ochre, serving as 
the basis of these pillars— 30 feet. 

6. A thin layer of iron ore in ochre — 30 feet. 

7. A clayey stone of various colours, resem- 
t>ling soapstone — 30 feet. 

8. A Succession of five or six beds of basalt 
varying with thin strata of ochre and other sub- 
stances — 180 feet. 

We give our readers this estimate in order 
to assist their imaginations in the description 
we have been endeavouring to make of the 
coast. 

To Pleaskin succeeded Port na Trughen, 
that is, the ** Bay of Sighs ;" and according to 
the accounts of some credible authorities, as 
well as of the people of the country, there are 
many clefts and chasms in the rocks surround- 
ing it, capable of giving out sounds exactly re- 
sembling the sighs and tones of complaint of the 
human voice. I had hoped myselfto hear some, 
of these lamentations of nature, but the roar of 
the north wind was too strong for sighs to be au- 
dible. This at least was assigned to me as the 
cause of my disappointment ; and it was said 
that, even had t^e wi^d not been so violent, its 
dirpct'OM was i^n'avourable. Another traveller, 
who was mors fortunate, describes the tones 
in the f >ll »w n^ manner : *' As I stmid contem- 
plating the s ennry of the bay, I suddenly heard 
a deep, long-drawn sigh, as I thought, close to 
me. The tone was precisely that of a human 
voice, yet I was ci»nvinced that I was entirely 
alone. I listened, with rather a palpitating 
heart, and the sound was repeated several 
times over, and at regular intervals ; and on 



closer investigation, I found it proeeedefl ffinii 
a chasm of a rock on which I was standing. 
At a little distance I discovered another simi- 
lar chasm, from which issued sighs and groans, 
as of a person in agony, so that it really became 
most painful to listen to. - I visited Port^'na 
Trughen three times, and heard on every occa- 
sion the same sounds, exactly as I have de- 
scribed ih^m." I, for my part, had to do all 
the sighing myself, that circumstances should 
not have ^owed me to be a witness to so ca- 
rious a phenomenon. 

The early departure of the October son, 
which had hidden his face in gray clouds the 
whole day. now compelled me to finish my ex- 
cursion,* although there remained two most 
interesting points unvrsited. I had not yet 
climbed the real Bengore Head, and I nad not 
examined the ruins of one of the most interest- 
ing castles in the north of Ireland, Dunloee ' 
Castle, which lies about two miles westward 
of the Giant*s Causeway. I sat down, very 
tired, on the brink of a diff lofiking into the 
•* Bay of Sighs," and looked dolefuHy across to 
the dark promontory, frown iqg in lonely gran- 
deur above the angry surges. My guides in- 
formed me — all twenty at once—that a pair of 
eagles had had their nest, time. out of mind, on 
the top of Bengore ; and as the same thing had 
been told me at Fair Head, it would seem that 
they choose only the highest and most inacces- 
sible points. My first sigh was fur Bengore, 
my second for Dunluce Castle, to which I had 
several times approached very near, but from 
which I was now separated by four miles of 
rough basalt road. My sighs were echoed by 
my whole twenty attendants, so that I had a 
lively idea of the sighs of Port na Trughen. 

"Ah! your hnn mr, what a pity that you 
can't see Dunluce, and that yon can't go there ^ 
to-monrnw ; youll be sorry fpr it all yoor life. 
There isn't a castle in the world that has a sit- 
uation like it." The rock on which it stands, 
they went on to tell me, is a great cubic rock 
loosened from the coast, and lying in the mid- 
dle of the sea, and washed all round by the 
waves ; the top is perfectly flat, and the sides 
so steep and craggy, that even a sw/allow can 
hardly get up them. It is entirely covered 
with ruins to the extreme edge Maiva*s tower, 
Mac Quillan's tower, the great castle hall, its 
various courts — all can still be plainly distin- 
guished. Some walls have fallen into the sea, 
and lie among the boulderstones in the surf 
The rock is connected by a wooden bridge with 
the mainland, where formerly stood some forti- 
fications connected with the castle. The great- 
er part is built with the black basaltic columns, 
as many buildings on this coast still are. The 
eldest son of the Earl of Antrim still takes a 
title from these ruins of Dun!uce Castle. It 
was built and inhabited hef »re the earliest rec- 
ords, and was for more than a thousand years 
the seat of s-^veral proud and independent races. 

The wh(»le system of feudal oppression, rob- 
bery, and violence, continued to a later period 
amon^ these rocky fastnesses, and the opposite 
Highlan Is of S.;otlan 1. thm in almost any other 
part of I^urope. I scarcely believe that even in 
Germany we had, at the time of Queen Eliza- 
b>:ch, such haughty vassals as that Mac Donnell 
of Dunluce, to whom her gracious majesty sent 



IRjELAND. 



m 



a maipificent parchment, containing the enu- 
ilieracion of al) his titles and puäsedsions, and 
emitif ining his right to them. Instead of falling 
At the feet of the sovereign, and humbly ac- 
knowledging this ihark of favour, Mac Dunneil 
flew into a rage, chopped the parchment to 
pieces with his sword, and threw them into the 
fire of his great hall, declaring that what he had 
gained with his own good sword, be would not be 
indebted for tv any sheepskin. 

The Mac Donnells who are at present in pos- 
session of Dunluce, and of the best estates of 
the county of Antrim, belong to the often named 
Antrim thmily, and came over fVom Scotland in 
Ifi80. The then lords of Dunluce, and of the 
wMe neighbouring country, were their relatives 
the Mao Quillan^, of a very ancient and renown- 
ed Irish tieimily. In Hamilton's book is a very 
interesting narrative from an old manuscript, of 
the events which placed this rich inheritance 
in the hands of the Mac Donnells, and led to the 
decay and present insignificance of the former 
kings of the sea coast, the Mac Qiiillans. Since 
the story throws a bright light on the ancient 
llislory of the coast eosntry we have been de- 
eribihg, and may serve to give our readers an 
idea of the manner in which many of the old 
irish families lost their estates, I will venture to 
give some particulars frOm the manuscript, the 
more willingly that it explains the beginnipg of 
the power of the two families, at the present 
day the most tnHuential over the whole north of 
Ireland — namely, that of the £arl of Antrim (the 
Mac Donnells) and of the Marquis of Donegal 
(the Chichesters), whom we mentioned at Bel- 
fast. The Irish chieftains, the Mac Quillans, 
were the original ancient owners of Dunluce, 
and of the surrounding country called the *'Bout,^* 
or ** Root," as far as the river ßaun. With their 
neighbours on the other side of the Bann, they 
were constantly at feud, and no less exposed, on 
thie other hand, to the attacks and inroads of 
the Scots of the Isles, lying to the north-east. 
In the year 1580, it happened that there came 
over from Cantire, a certain Mac Donald or 
Mac Donnelt (Hamilton giv^s the former ortho- 
graphy, but the Antrim family adopt the latter) 
with a body of Highlanders, whom be was taking 
to the assistance of his friend the chief Tyrcon- 
nell, at that time at war with the great 0*Neal. 
As he marched through the land of the Mac 
Quillans, he was invited in a friendly manner by 
the '' Master of the Root," to go with all his fol- 
lowers to the Castle of Dunluce. Here they 
were most hospitably entertained, and the lord 
of the Castle was not the less kindly disposed 
towards his guests, for being at the moment en- 
gaged, as he generally was, with his enemies on 
the other side of the Bann, who happened to be 
just then rather too strong for him. He had 
some hopes that Mac Donneil would assist him 
against them, and just as the Highlanders were 
about to take their departure, he called together 
his vassals and retainers, or, as they were call- 
ed, ** Gallogloghs," and informed them in the 
presence of his guests, that he was about to set 
out on an expedition to avenge an insult that 
liad been offered to him by his neighbours. 

The knight Mac Donneil considering it in- 
cumbent on him to otfer his services to his 
friendly host on such an occasion, despatched 
j| message to Mac QuiUan to that effect. Mae 
H 



Quillan replied in terms expressive of admira 
tion of the valour and courtesy of his guest, 
that he would gladly avail himself of the offer- 
ed help, and that he and his posterity would 
hold themselves forever indebted to the Mae 
Donnells. The two accord 1 ngly set off together , ^ 
on the " raid," and wherever a cow had been 
taken from one of his people, Mac Quillan took 
back two ; and having obtained ample satisfac- 
tion, returned in triumph, and laden with booty, * 
to the castle of Dunluce, where they gave them- 
selves up to the enjoyment of all the pleasures 
it afforded. ' \ 

As the winter was now at hand, Mac Quillan, ^ 
who like most Irishmen, was more kmd-heart- 
ed and hospitable, than discreet and prudent, 
invited Mac Donneil to remain during tlie bad 
season at the castle, and to give up the notion 
of joining Tyrconnell. Mac Donneil, who be- 
gan to think he was passing a very pleasant 
sort of life at Dunluce, and had moreover cast 
an eye on the beautiful daughter of his host, 
did not require much pressing, and he and his 
retainers were soon distributed over the castle, 
and quartered among A^ac Quillan*s subjects in 
the •* Root." 

They led a jovial, jolly life of it all the winter, 
and Mac Donneil got so far into the good graces 
of the fair daughter of Mac Quillan, that, as scan- 
dal reports, the secret marriage that took place 
between them was not celebrated before it was 
high time. Upon this marriage it was that the 
Mac Donnells afterwards reste^ their claim to 
Mac Quillan's territory. Whilst these love pas- 
sages were going on within the sea-girt castle, 
the Highlanders and the Gallogloghs, who wer« 
quartered, two and two, among the tenant« 
o( Dunluce, were not on such friendly terms 
And whereas, at the castle, the ^ed of discord 
had been sown by love, in the cottage it seeme^ 
likely to spring from that usual subject of disp 
Ute, the commissariat department. According 
to an ancient custom, every Galloglogh was to 
receive ä"meather" of milk ov^r and above 
his usual ration. The ** meather!' was a Wooden 
vessel made out of a single piece, of a trian- 
gular form, in use in Ireland from the most an- 
cient times. The Highlanders took it very 
much amiss that the Gallogloghs should have 
more than they, and at length one of them be- 
gan to grumble at his portion, and inquired 
why he was not to have milk as well as the' 
other. 

The Galloglogh, who sat imbibing the pleas- 
ant fluid, answered, '* Does a Highland beggar 
like you, moan to make himself equal to one of 
Mac QuiUan*s Gallogloghs 1" Thereupon, of 
course, the Scotchman was not slow to re- 
spond, and as the quarrel rose higher, the pooi 
farmer, who was, doubtless, heartily tired of 
them both, begged the gentlemen would be so 
good as to go and fight out their quarrel in the. 
open air; addmg, that whoever got the victory 
should have the milk, and any thing else the 
house afforded. 

The battle ended with the death of the Gal- 
loglogh Tand thereupi)n, the manuscript relates, 
the Highlander came back into the hut, and re- 
galed himself with his milk to his hearths con- 
tent. The affair, of course, became talked o( 
and Mac Quillan*s Gallogloghs demanded satis* 
faction. This not being irajnediately granted. 



If4 



IRELAND. 



they held a council among themaelves, in which j ral time» in Ireland encountered th« do aoi H 
it was leeolred that the Scots had obtained 1 danU ol 



freat and dangerous infiueace in the Root« that 
ffreat (lisgraoe bad fallen on the whole eleiH 
firom tiie seduction of Mac QuiUan*s daughter, 
which was. it appeared, by no means a secret, 
and that, to avenge all these injuries, every 
Gailogl'igh should agree, on a certain night, to 
murder his Scottish comrade; the chiet Mac 
Di)nnell also to be included in the massacre. 
The daughter of Mac Quillan. and wile of Mac 
Bimnell, however, discovered the plot, and be- 
trayed it to her husband, and since it was sus- 
hecled that Mac Quillan, who by this time was 
heartily weary of his guests, was not an entire 
stranger to it, Mac Donnell and bis people 
thought it advisable to f|y by night to the island 
of ilachery, of Rathlin, where lor want of pro- 
visions, they were obliged to subsist upon 
horseflesh. A war now began between the Mac 
Bonnells and the Mac Quillans, which contin- 
ued during the whole reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
and which gave the territory of Dunluce and 
the Root alternately to one or the otfier, ac- 
cording to the varying fortunes of the parties, 
until in the beginning of the reign of King 
James, the government ihterfered to put an end 
to it, and an appeal was made to the crown. 

This monarch had, as is well known, a great 
partiality for his Scottish countrymen, and he 
bestowed on Mac Donnell no less than four 
great baronies in Ireland, among which w^ere 
included the lands of the unlucky Mac Quillan. 

As a slight compensation there was allotted 
to the latter the barony of Ennishowen, the 
ancient territory of the 0*Doghertys, in Done- 
gal. After this decision King James sent over 
a Sir John Chichester to Mac Quillan to see it 
executed. 'Phe chief was, of course, very 
much dissatisfied with the decision, and espe- 
cially troubled at the difficulties that arose in 
the transport of his poor tenants and clansmen 
across Lough Foyle and the River Bann. The 
cunning Sir John seized the moment when the 
old chief was most perplexed to suggest that 
there was an estate belonging to his (Chiches- 
ter's) family in the district of Clanreaghurbie, 
that lay much nearer to Dunluce than the 
barony of Ennishowen, and which he was wil- 
ling to exchange for it. 

The unsuspicioua and sorely " bothered" Mac 
Quillan, agreed to the bargain, and settled with 
his people on the small estate, while the Chi- 
chesters took possession of the great barony, 
which they still retain, along with other lands 
and the title of Marquis of Donegal. Thus did 
the Mac Quillans fall from the splendid domain 
of Dunluce and the Root, to a little estate in the 
interior, but they had not yet reached the low 
est step of their descent, for a certain Bury Oge 
Mac Quillan, who loved to practise Irish hospi- 
tality on a more extensive scale than his pre- 
sent scanty means would permit, became em- 
barrassed, sold his land at a low price to the 
Chichesters, and spent the money merrily as 
long as any of it remained in his treasury. At 
the end of the last century, Mac Quillans were 
to be found at Clanreaghurbie among the hum- 
blest of the people, and possessing no superio- 
rity over the rest of the peasantry, than the 
title of King Mac Quillan, bestowed on them 
in mockery by their neighbours. I have seve- 



t these feudal rujralttes, ; 
e», atable boy«, and the very lowest claatm^ 
society. 

RETURN AN1> CONCLUSION. 
While I was sitting with my trooo of tattw- 
demalions in the bay of Sighs, taliing of the 
former glories of Duniuee, it bait become eom- 
pletely dark, so that I had some difficulty in 
Unding my way back to my car in which I wm 
to return to Ballycastle. I arrived there Ute im 
the evening, and found that the Misses Mac 
Donnells had also sunk, if not into the low€»t 
classes of society, at least into the piUowA of 
their soft couch. On the following morning, I 
had indeed, as I had hoped, a change of weaäir 
er, but not really such a change as I desired. 
The storm, which on the preceding night had 
been a dry one, come now with its wings laden 
with snow, and had completely covered the 
mountains, by the time I began my return 
journey to Belfast. It had been my .first inte»- 
tion to return by Coleraine and Antrim, but aa 
I thought it unlikely I should meet with wa^ 
thing in the interior to equal in interest the 
magnificent coast of Antrim, I resolved to gp 
back the way I came. 

The effect of the snow on th6 landscape 
varied with almost every field, and seemed 
scarcely the same in any two spots. On the 
stubble fields it had melted less than on the 
grass meadows, on the begs more than on tl^ 
heaths, and the figures of several tracts, was 
precisely recognisable by this difference. I 
believe that in flakes of snow taken. from diffe- 
rent spots, one might obtain a very delicate 
thermometer for the variations of temperature 
in living and decaying plants. 

It is usually stated that the snow never lies 
on this coast, when, a few miles inland, the 
bills are covered with it to a great depth. How 
this may be I know not, hut at all events I can 
bear witness that on this wild coast, snow falls 
as early as in the beginning qf October. Nev- 
ertheless, at many of the farmhouses we passed« 
quantities of roses in full bloom were glowing 
from beneath the snow, and the jpyrtles of 
Glenarm, which I now again visited, and which^ 
are the largest and most splendid in all Ireland, 
testified that for themi, at least, the winter ba4 
no terrors. I was told that one of the garden- 
ers from the Royal Gardens of Kew, late^ 
made a pilgrimage to the north of Ireland pur- 
posely to visit them, and to examine closely all 
the circumstances connected with their position. 
Amongst other curiosities exhibited to me at 
the castle of Glenarm, is a model of the Giant's 
Causeway, and a very large piece of Irish rock 
crystal, from one of the basaltic caverns. It 
was nearly five inches long, and is said to be 
one of the largest ever found. I learni here 
also that the northern Irish s^lways call the 
basalt " whinstone,'* whin signifying the furze 
or gorse, so common in Ireland, and wliich 
grows abundantly among the basait. The fair 
lady who gave me this in formation, also Uikl 
me tliat what in Euglanil is called a family 
name, here is usually ^ed among the coAiim/utfi 
.people the ** c/tf7t«-nanip,** atul that if I wi^died 
to have a clear idea of what is meant b^ it, I 
should remember the way in which ,tbe phrase 



tftfii^Afl»» 



kh 



^ CkiMreD of IstböI** is aaad in the bible ; that 
Mog' traoeiated by the Seotch and Iriah as 
««Clan Israel." 

Many expressions in use in this part of the 
^ eoantry, e^en amonff tHe fMrelf Irish» hare 
veference to those of England arid North Bri* 
lain ; as for instance, liie.«irord **»oss" instead 
€>f bog. When at Glenarm I complained that 
the supply of turf for my fire was so scanty, 
the OKciisewas that "the moss waa at such a 
diatance/' This is a complaint often heard in 
Iprelaind, add on the «ther hand the near neigh- 
tioarhoud of the moss or bog, is always a sub- 
ject of rejoicing. In all sales of land» and 
lettings of farms, this circumstance is^ always 
taken into connideratioa, an<| materially modi- 
ifies the condition of4he bargain. 

The recent violent gales had thrown up at 
«Olenarm and at several other places along the 
^eoast, a great quantity of eea^weed ; and as 
:SOQn as. the wind had a httle abated, half the 
population was assembled on the shore, and 
^en^ployed «^cpUeotMg.and earrying it away in; 
^ars. 

AU Ihsifvet ixttsaes afHasaltio and limestone 
Tock, which roll about on the coast, were cover- 
•ed with a crowd of men, women, and children« 
.busied in gcitting in this singular harvest, and 
carrying away in their arms heaps of the lung 
trailing shmy plants, which the Irish turn to 
^ftccoont in many ways. In the first place they 
«k eonsiderahte qoantities ; severfdofmytioop 
of attendants to the Giants Causeway amused 
themselves as they went along, by picking up 
and nuinching aea-weed fre^b (roox the turf- 
In Ballycastle Jf saw people eat it upon bread 
and butter, as one might ea^t WiH^r-^^^eaees. In; 
Belfast i^ is regularly brought to market as a 
-vegetable, as peas and beans are with ns. Soaa»- ' 
times the sea- weed is salted and pickled, and 
then has much the appearance of the [dumb 
^am so much nsed jn QermaoD^. Besides these 
«ses, I have already mentioned that great quan- 
9lities< of, H are inside imp keik>, and wh#t j# not 
'employed for any of these purposes serves for 
laiwH^ 4tluMigh it is % aaore valuable for 
this on the sandy shores of the Baltic, .thah in 
%he damp marshy lands of Ireland, where sea-' 
aand and shell^,^e ippre Mranied- Of the letter 
article whole mountains are collected near 

All the coastj^ of Ireland are rich in various 
finds of aea-weed> so that it seems the abun- 
dant vegetation of the Emerald Isle is con- 
tinued even under the sea. The coast of An- 
trim is the richest of all, as these plants prefer 
ükß. Umestope and baaaltio rock to the granite. 
Among the sorts of sea- weed considered edible 
by the Irish the most approved are the follow- 
fng: First, the .^Jiodonunia palmaia; then the 
itfimimariß s^e^arinß, and lastiy, the CJumdnu 
crisjws. The Ijätter kinds are dried in the sun, 
«ailed Irish moss, and used as a substitute for 
the Iceland moss. The first- named is sold at 
Belfast, and' on the sea-coast, for a penny a 
DO^nd; whjlst.in the interior it costs three or 
four times as much. I heard a great deal about 
the fine flavour of some sorts, and the inferiority 
of others ; but it certainly appear^ to me, that to 
oi2e unaccustomed to these delicacies all are 
equally naul^eohs. -The. people in some of the. 
«ooast districts, however, both of Scotland and 



Irehind, are so partial to the taste, that they 
carry it about with them and chew it like to- 
bacco. 

One kind of 8ea-;weed, much liked for manure, 
Hd the LtMinaria dittiaia, called '* sea^wrack,*' 
Whkh is considered so serviceable, especially 
|br potatoes, that it k a saying in Antrim, that 
a sack of sea- wrack will make a sack of pota- 
toes, although, in general, it is rather the quality 
than the quantity of this asefui root that- is im- 
proved by it. After every storm on this CMuit 
the people i;ojne down iti crowd» ^Qia the 
mountains to gather the sea-wrack for their 
potatoes, and in calm weather tbey run out far 
into the sea, and cut it under the Water with 
sickles. Sometimes they take the little moun- 
tain horses in with them, bat when the shore is 
too rocky for this, they lade their own human 
backs with the salt-dripping manure. 

Few people have ever noticed the beantifol 
and elegant formation of these mariof: produc- 
tions, which are scarcely inferior to thoiBO of 
many plants of our gardens, aHlioagh, aß thngr 
only display their full magnificence beneath the 
water, it woafcd not be easy to cüeerve ÜMH 
without a diving-bell. When taken out covered 
with slime, they havd a. very deplorable appear- 
ance, and then can opiy be restored to aoyihing 
tike their natural beauty by an artificial process. 
While other plants lose <ni|ch by being dno# 
and preserved in herbaria, these on the con- 
traiy, are improved by the preparajtion. Dr. 
Drummond, of Belfast, has written a learned 
treatise on the manner of drying these phinta, 
of which he h^ a beantifql and almost perfect 
collection. It is rather surprising that, constder- 
,ing ihe (jvr ir^ftter dÜMüUlQr of procuring thwP 
than land plants, and the consequently far greater 
utility of coUeoting them, auch a onet is .not 
found in every museum. An herbarium of 
marine plants might show them as 'beautifal ha 
in their natpral state» and wpold ooQtrilj|ute 
greatly to the renown of their collector. 

A$'th9 mUd Qlwte4|ff (relaad oertwn}y dis- 
poses one not a little to whiskey-drinking, I 
took a glass at Qtenarm to which I waa tbo 
more easily induced, that I was informeO) by 
my carman this was the last good dn>p of whis- 
key ,1 should get on the poaat. The («rne 
whiskey, he said, " was good for nothing,** and 
that Carri<^I^Cin wh^kty upas *'«or^ than 
that.** 

As I sat in the oar, although one side of lact 
was exposed to all the fury of the wind and 
snow, the other was extremely comfortable, t 
had even managed to make a hole for the re- 
ception of my dhow, so that I did my best to' 
triansfer my whole power of sensation into this 
snug corner, and to let the rest of my llmhe 
freeze and shiver as they would. IVIost people 
say that if any one part is cold it is impossihio 
to enjoy the warmth of the rest ; but I am of 
opinion — and the theory is a far more desirable 
one to adopt, that one may just as reasonably 
d^regard the hardships .of the greater part of 
tne body if the comfort of one limb be properly 
provided for. I consoled myself with this theory - 
as far as BeMaat, whers L anrijved with ev^ 
article of clothing, and every single paper I had 
with me soaked through and through. 

Here I touk my leave of Srio» $tfwl shipped 
myself for Caledonia. 



ADAPTED TO TEACHING.-PRICE FII^TY CENTS! 



I '^^^^^^vv^/Vww■/WiMWW^VV»» 



MORSE'S 

S(g[i{](ö)®ö= (g[i(D(glS^lP'[JO% 

ZI.L08TRATBD WITH 

CEItOGBAPHIC MAPS. 

Among its prominent •characteristics are the fottowing ; 

1. The Arrangement is such that the Map, Questions on the Map, and description^ 
•f each country, are on the same page, or on pages directly opposite, enabling th# 
yupil to refer readily from one to the other, without the incomrenieiiee of two bodks« 
or even the necessity of turning the leaf. , • 

2 The Maps are more numerous, and generally on a larger scale^ihzn in any other 
Bichool Geography. 

3. The Exercises on the Map are so fraoMd as to present a eamneetad etsis of tlui 
great features of each country. 

4. The Descriptions are in a series of short paragraphs, written in concise style» 
and confined to the most interesting and characteristic matter. " & 

5. The eorreet Pronundatüm of difficult names is indicated by dividing iato^sylla^ 
Ues» accenting, Slc, 

6. The General and Comparative views at tae end of the TolunM are on the pla^ 
first introduced by the author in 1820, and since adopted in many other School G^ 
ographies. They are regarded as well fitted to exercise and strengthen the judgneofr 

7« The new art of Cerographjf is applied for the first time to the illustration of » 
work of this kind, and enables the publishers to sell it at a rery low price. 

The whole work is the result of long' and careful study, and is intended to impress 
«pon the mind of the student such outlines of geography as will form the best fottii&* 
ation for farthe and extensire. acquisitions. 



ftS" Confident of the superiority of MORSE'S SCHOOL GEOGRAPUl 
orer every other work of the kind, the publishers respectfully inform editors, teack 
era, and superintendents of schools, that they may obtain gralmUmsly a copy of ch# 
work for examination from the principal booksellers throughout the United Slafes. 
The typography of the work, and its peculiar adaptation to teaching, together with 
Its extreme cheapnes«^, can hardly fail to command for it a general, if not a unitereal 
adoption in the schools of our country. 



N£ W.YORK: HARPER ii BROTHERS, 82 CLIFF^STREET. 



■* 



€■'■" 



THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY 
RBFBRBNGB DBPARTMBNT 



This book is under no circumstances to be 
taken from the Building 



VIAY 1 } 191« 


























































































form 410 







»^^ 



<l 



r 



^"«^ 



t