Some of the actors wore tattered clothes, thus proving that even on the stage this national peculiarity could not be laid aside. I believe that the lowest galantee-showman would not any where else have appeared in such garments.

An English fire, in an open hearth, reconciles one to every thing, and banishes the recollection of bad weather, tedious conversation, and absurd plays. I therefore seated myself beside the genial flame, and taking up the map of Ireland, contemplated the form, and in particular the outline of the coasts, of this new land in which I found myself, and through the interior of which I intended yet to roam for some days.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY.

TO PICK UP -CRIME IN KERRY-FOG-LANDSCAPE-TRAVELLING MANIA -KILLARNEY-THE UPPER AND LOWER LAKES-ENVIRONS OF THE LAKES-THE GAP OF DUNLOE-MACGILLICUDDY'S REEKS KERRY HORSES AND STRAW HARNESS-TURF-BOG ON THE MOUNTAINS-GOATS AND WOLVES-LAKES ON THE MOUNTAINS-MOUNTAIN DEW-ROUNDED ROCKS-EXCURSION ON THE UPPER LAKE-AN ENCHANTED KINGDOMCOLOUR OF THE SHORES-ISLANDS IN THE UPPER LAKE-ROBBING THE EAGLE'S NEST--TAMED EAGLES-FAITHFUL TEMPERANCE MEN-THE LOWER LAKE-O'DONAGHUE-INNISFAIL-TREES AND RUINS-TROUBLE IN VAIN.

I never beheld the beauteous golden stars of heaven with more angry eyes than on the morning of the fifth of October, as, equipped for my journey, I stood alone and undisturbed in the street of Tralee, whilst minute after minute elapsed without the arrival of the mail-coach, which was here to "pick me up," and convey me to Killarney. At last I looked at my watch, and then discovered, to my great annoyance, that the careless waiter had driven me out of bed and into my boots, out of the sheets into my travelling cloak, at four instead of six o'clock. The God of Sleep was now too far gone to be recalled. I therefore left my luggage in the coach-office, with a request that it might be transferred to the coach on its arrival, and wandered forth on foot, to pass the time and be "picked up on the road. It was a beautiful October morning, and as the stars looked down so friendly on me, in despite of my vexation, I at length became reconciled to them, and in the society of these thousands of beautiful worlds, I plodded along my lonely road into the county of Kerry.

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It has been remarked that the hours previous to the dawn of morning, when every one is buried in the deepest sleep, are those most favourable to the robber. But numerous as murders and personal offences are in Ireland, the wanderer has seldom any thing to fear, certainly much less than in Italy, Spain, and some other countries. The Irish are a restless and rebellious people, but not a nation of banditti. Their state of bondage affords too good a reason for the former, whilst their hospitality is a sufficient security against the latter. Personal offences are therefore seldom connected with plunder, but are, in general, the result rather of revenge and hatred, arising from personal quarrels and injuries. Inglis, in his work on Ireland, states that out of 199 criminal cases which were tried at the Kerry quarter sessions, 10 only were for larceny, whilst 74 were cases of riotous assemblies, 34 of rescue, and 47 of personal assaults. It must also be remembered that the county of Kerry belongs to the "less disturbed counties," as the English call them. Assaults, resistance to the lawful authorities, and riotous assemblies-these are the principal crimes of the Irish.

As yet I had been unable to form any notion of the aspect of the country south of Tralee, in which I was wandering; and when at last the sun began to rise, the landscape presented the appearance of a great sea, in which the tops of a number of black mountains represented islands. The whole of the plain was enveloped in a dense white fog; but as the summits of the hills remained clear, I could reckon them whenever I came on a rising ground. When the mail-coach at length picked me up, we soon worked through this stratum of mist, as the Russian peasants in winter work their way through the snow; but I can give little account of the country through which we passed in this way, until we came to the far-famed Killarney, the aim and goal of many who

wander

"Through Erin's isle,
To sport awhile."

Thomas Moore's poems have certainly contributed much to the celebrity of many places in Ireland, as well as the patriotic "Irish Penny Magazine," and those English "sight-seers" who are ever hunting after novelties.

Formerly it was the higher and wealthy classes of England only who travelled, and as these were wont to despise all that was to be seen at home, they usually resorted to the celebrated scenes of foreign lands. But now, such is the increasing love of travel, and the facility and cheapness of communication, that many classes of society who were formerly, like the gleba adscripti, rooted to the soil, or only

travelled on business, have been set in motion by the descriptions of romantic and lovely scenery, and have become familiar with the beauties of places which were once known only to those who lived in their neighbourhood, and which the traveller passed without a glance. This generally awakened desire for travelling has brought in its train a multitude of other desires and interests. It has brought more money into circulation, and supports numerous hotels, coachmen, and others. These people, who formerly knew not the difference between the appearance of an Irish bog and that of an Alpine valley, now speak of the superior charms of this or that beautiful locality, and discover, now here, now there, a wondrous paradise. As it is their interest to seduce travellers into those quarters where they may be most profitable to themselves, glowing descriptions of the scenery to be met with in their neighbourhood are written, and published in the newspapers, or in pamphlets to serve as guide-books. Hence comes the patriotism which the writers invariably feel for their fatherland, their home, and their birthplace, and which makes them always discover this paradise as near as possible to the latter. Formerly, this patriotism busied itself only with the institutions, the political freedom, the great men, or the social superiorities of the country. Now, however, so glowing has become the love of nature, and so ardent the desire for travelling and wandering about the country, and hunting after interesting and pleasing scenes, that it has also taken its natural beauties under its especial protection, and adorned them with the most charming songs, poems, and colours. Thus it is that certain spots have obtained so great a celebrity, that it is regarded as little less than barbarism to have been in the country and not to have seen them. To these places belong "The Lakes of Killarney," or, as they are called in Ireland, "The Lakes;" for although it has many others, yet by the lakes, those of Killarney only are meant. In England and Scotland, there are also lakes called "The Lakes" par excellence. Those of Scotland are Loch Lomond and its neighbours; and when the English ask, "Have you seen Our lakes?" it is invariably those of Westmoreland and Cumberland that are meant.

Killarney (like Tralee, Tarbert, and many other little towns in the south of Ireland, which have but recently acquired any importance, and must have been miserable-looking places thirty years ago,) is a neatly-built town, and contains several excellent hotels, which furnish every possible assistance and convenience for visiting the lakes and their environs. I arrived at breakfast time, and associated myself with an English officer who was about to visit the lakes, having arrived from I know not what barrack or

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131

battery on the Shannon, to spend a couple of weeks in the paradise of Killarney, and to enjoy its beauties con amore.

The lakes lie in a crescent around the foot of the highest group of mountains in Kerry, called Macgillicuddy's Reeks. There are two principal lakes,-a large upper and a small lower one. Killarney lies on the former. In order to vary the journey, and to see as much as possible of the surrounding country, it is customary to hire at the same time a car, a boat, and a pair of saddle-horses. The boat goes up the lakes, and awaits the traveller in a little harbour of the upper lake; the horses are sent forward to a mountain pass which cuts through the Reeks, and is called the Gap of Duuloe. This the traveller reaches by driving round the end of the lower lake, and a few miles further to this Gap. He then mounts his pony, and rides across the mountain, on the other side of which he arrives at the extreme end of the upper lake, where he takes to his boat and descends the lakes to the point from whence he started. From Killarney, which lies on the level shore of the lake, one sees the mountains towering up on the opposite side like a dark wall, and mirrored in the calm clear lake that washes their feet. Wherever the hedges, fences, and walls did not impede our view, we enjoyed charming glimpses of this scene. Along the flat shore of the lake is the Race-course of Killarney, which I mention only to show that, in Ireland, even such little places as this have their racing-grounds. A horse-race here, beside the picturesque lakes, must produce an effect extremely interesting.

In the villages through which we passed, we again saw the little boys running to school, each with his slate and primer under one arm, and his sod of turf for the schoolmaster under the other.

The Gap of Dunloe, which we at length reached, is a wild pass through the mountains, like many others in Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. It lies between Macgillicuddy's Reeks and the mountains Tormes and Glenaa, which, properly speaking, are part of the former. Macgillicuddy's Reeks are said to be the most lofty mountains in Ireland. Their highest point is called Gurrane Tual, and is 3404 English feet above the level of the sea. Snowdon, in England, is somewhat higher, being 3571 feet. Ben Nevis, in Scotland, rises to 4370 feet, and is said to be the highest in the United Kingdom. Macgillicuddy's Reeks stand like a row of gigantic haycocks, and each has its separate name. "Reek" is probably derived from the German "Recken," which primarily signifies any thing heaped up to a great height, and is specially applied to heaps of hay, called "hay-ricks" in England. This Macgillicuddy is said to have been a great lord and landowner,

His father was an O'Sullivan, and bequeathed all his property to this his favourite son, whom he also named Macgillicuddy, that is, Darling of my heart." To these paternal estates he himself afterwards added so many more, that, compared with his extensive possessions, these mountains were but as hay-ricks to the little estates of other men. Hence they were called "the reeks of the darling of my heart," to mark the vastness of his territory.

We mounted our steeds at the mouth of the pass, and trotted forward. Above our heads soared a pair of eagles, which even the best-mounted rider must ever look up to with envy. The Kerry horses, like all horses of a mountainous country, are small, but sagacious, cautious, and hardy. Their harness, for want of leather, flax, or any better material, is composed of straw, and is the poorest I ever met with. Straw ropes are used every where throughout Ireland, and it is very usual to see one tied round the leg of a pig, as it is driven to market. In other countries straw ropes are also occasionally used, but I never before saw an entire harness of plaited straw; and what is more remarkable is, that it was not a mere makeshift, or the whim of an individual, but the general custom throughout the whole west of Ireland.

The rocks on each side of the Gap certainly rise to the height of 1500 feet. At some parts the pass itself is wider than at others; and, including its windings, it is from three to four miles long, and rich in the wildest scenery. The colour of the rocks contributes not a little to this wildness, as, being covered with turfmould, they often look perfectly black. The hollows of all these mountains are deeply covered with bog-stuff, which also lies upon their summits, although not in such great masses; whilst every point of rock or ledge of stone, every little landing-place and crevice, is completely filled with it. I would not believe this until I climbed some of the rocks and took from the chinks small pieces of turf which had received and retained the form of the rock. One would almost imagine that the bog-stuff floated in the air, and was deposited on the walls of rock, or that a turfy bog sauce had been poured over the whole group of mountains, and flowed down into every crevice and hole, to the very lowest valley. Whence comes it that on these mountains all decaying vegetable matter is changed into bog-stuff--a change which never takes place elsewhere? I was informed by the mountaineers who accompanied us, that the turf was much more plentiful, and the strata much thicker, on the north than on the south side of the Reeks. Here and there a mass of bog seems to have been washed off by the rains, and carried to some distance, until its progress was arrested by projecting rocks; whilst in other