increased by O'Connell's letter. He had written to me that the proper approach to his house was from Killarney,-that carriages must cross thence by water; but that from Kenmare was the most difficult, and that I must therefore be sure to provide myself with a safe guide. And, as is generally the case when we pursue one train of thoughts with great pertinacity, a popular tale of Croker's, which I had lately read, came into my mind. "No land," says he, " is better than the coast of Inveragh to be drowned in the sea; or if you like that better, to break your neck on shore." Yet thought I-and here my horse suddenly stumbled, shyed, and turned with such a leap as I had hardly given the old mare credit for, I now found myself in a narrow pass. It was still light enough to see several steps before me clearly, and I could not understand what had struck this panic into my horse. Making all the resistance he could, and only in obedience to the admonitions of my shillelah, he at length went on again; but in a few steps I perceived with astonishment, that the path which had appeared pretty well tracked, terminated directly in the sea. The bridle nearly dropped out of my hand, as a foaming wave chased by the storm, sprang upon me like a huge monster, and scattered the narrow cleft far behind me with its spray. Here was really a difficult situation. Bare inaccessible rocks surrounded me on every side,-before me rolled the ocean, there was nothing for me but to retreat. But if I had lost my way, as I could not but suspect, how could I reckon on meeting my guide, even by returning; and if I did not meet him, where was I to pass the night? With the exception of O'Connell's old castle, there was no hope of meeting with the least trace of a shelter for twenty miles round. I was already shivering with cold and wet, and as my constitution would certainly not carry me through a bivouac in such a night, I had doubtless cause for some alarm. It was useless, however, to consider: I must ride back, that was clear; and as quickly as possible. My horse seemed to have come to the same conclusion; for, as if inspired with new force, he bore me away from the spot at a gallop. But would you believe it: a black figure was again destined to help me in my difficulty. You will say this is too much. "Ce n'est pas ma faute; le vrai souvent n'est pas le vraisemblable." In short, I saw a black figure glide like a dim phantom across my path, and disappear behind the rocks. Invocations, prayers, promises, were in vain :Was it a smuggler allured to this coast by the ample facilities it offers? or a superstitious peasant who took my unhappy person for a ghost? At all events, it appeared that he did not choose to venture from his hiding-place, and I began to despair of the help I had thought at hand; when suddenly his head peeped out close to me from the cleft of a rock. I soon succeeded in tranquillizing his fears, and he explained to me the puzzle of the road terminating in the sea. "This road was made for low water; the tide is now," he said, "about half in; a quarter of an hour later it is impossible to pass; but now, if you'll pay me well, I will try and bring you through, but we must not lose a moment." With these words he seated himself at one bound on the horse behind me, and we made what speed we could back to the sea, which was rolling with great rapidity.

I felt a strange sensation, as we now appeared deliberately to plunge down into the stormy sea, and had to make our difficult way amid the white waves and the rocks, which looked like ghosts in the dim twilight. 'We had the greatest trouble, too, with the horse. However, the black

man knew the ground so perfectly, that we reached the opposite coast in safety, though bathed up to the arms in salt water.

Unluckily, the terrified beast, shyed again here at a projecting rock, and broke both the rotten girths directly in the middle, a mischance for which there was no remedy here. After all my disasters, I had the agreeable prospect of riding the last six miles, balancing on the loose saddle. My black guide had, indeed, given me the clearest directions for the prosecution of my journey; but it was now so dark, that the land marks were no longer visible.

It

The road lay, as it appeared to me, across a wide moor, and was at first quite level. After half an hour of rough and stumbling trotting, during which I pressed my knees as hard as possible together, that I might not lose my saddle, I remarked that the road turned again to the right, into the higher range of the mountains, for the climbing grew steeper, and more continual. Here I found a woman, who was passing the night with her pigs or goats. The road branched off into two divisions, and I asked her which I must take to reach Derrinane Abbey? "Oh! both lead there," said she, "but that on the left is two miles nearer." Of course, I took this, but soon found, to my cost, that it was practicable only for goats. I execrated the old witch, and her traitorous intelligence :-my poor horse exhausted himself in vain efforts to climb through the blocks of stone, and, at length, half stumbling, half falling, he threw both saddle and me. was impossible to keep the saddle on him alone; it fell down incessantly, and I was obliged to load my own shoulders with it, and to lead my horse besides. Till now I had kept in pretty good temper; the spirit was still willing, but the flesh began to be weak; the man on the cliff had said, only six miles further, and you are there; and now, after half an hour's hard riding, the woman insisted upon it that it was still six miles, the shortest way to Derrinane. I began to fear that this mountain fortress was not to be found, and that I was the sport of Kobolds, who bandied me from one to another. I seated myself on a stone, quite out of heart, fevered with alternate heat and cold; when, like the voice of an angel in the wilderness, the shouts of my guide resounded in my ear, and I soon heard the trampling of his horse's hoofs. He had taken quite a different way through the interior of the mountains, to avoid the sea, and had luckily met the woman whose direction I had followed.

In the delicions feeling of present security, I forgot all my disasters, loaded my deliverer with the saddle and my wet cloak, gave up my horse to his guidance, and seated myself upon his, thus making what speed I might. We had, in fact, five miles yet to ride, and that through a mountain pass surrounded by precipices,-but I can give you no further description of the road. The darkness was so complete, that I was obliged to strain my eyes to the utmost to follow the man, who appeared only like a dim shadow flitting indistinctly before me. I perceived, by the stumbling of my horse, that we were on uneven ground; I felt that it was a continual alternation of steep ascents and descents; that we waded through two deep and rapid mountain torrents, but that was all ::-now and then, indeed, I suspected, rather than saw, that a bare wall of rock rose by my side, or the deeper black beneath me betrayed the precipice which yawned below.

At length, at length a bright light broke through the darkness; the

road grew more even; here and there a bit of hedge was visible; and in a few minutes we stopped at the gate of an ancient building standing on the rocky shore, from the windows of which a friendly golden radiance streamed through the night.

'The tower clock was striking eleven, and I was, I confess, somewhat anxious as to my dinner, especially as I saw no living being, except a man in a dressing-gown at an upper window. Soon, however, I heard sounds in the house; a handsomely-dressed servant appeared, bearing silver candlesticks, and opened the door of a room, in which I saw, with astonishment, a company of from fifteen to twenty persons sitting at a long table, on which were placed wine and dessert. A tall handsome man, of cheerful and agreeable aspect, rose to receive me, apologized for having given me up in consequence of the lateness of the hour, regretted that I had made such a journey in such terrible weather, presented me in a cursory manner to his family, who formed the majority of the company, and then conducted me to my bedroom. This was the great O'Connell.'-vol. i. pp. 325-332.

This romantic, yet literal, description of the prince's journey to Derrinane, will remind the reader of some of the stories in the Arabian Nights, in which the traveller, after making his way over vast deserts, and tremendous mountains, beholds at length, in the distance, the palace of which he was in search, shining, like burnished gold, in the sun-beams. The prince appears to have been much pleased with the appearance and manners of his host, of whom he gives a character, not more favourable in our opinion than that extraordinary man deserves.

The next day I had fuller opportunity of observing O'Connell. On the whole, he exceeded my expectations. His exterior is attractive; and the expression of intelligent good nature, united with determination, and prudence, which marks his countenance, is extremely winning. He has, perhaps, more of persuasiveness than of genuine large and lofty eloquence; and one frequently perceives too much design and manner in his words. Nevertheless, it is impossible not to follow his powerful arguments with interest, to view the martial dignity of his carriage without pleasure, or to refrain from laughing at his wit. It is very certain that he looks much more like a general of Napoleon's than a Dublin advocate. This resemblance is rendered much more striking by the perfection with which he speaks French,-having been educated at the Jesuits' Colleges of Douai and St. Omer. His family is old, and was probably one of the greatest families of the land. His friends, indeed, maintain that he springs from the ancient kings of Kerry,—an opinion which no doubt adds to the reverence with which he is regarded by the people. He himself told me and not without a certain pretension,-that one of his cousins was Comte O'Connell, and "cordon rouge" in France, and another a baron, general and chamberlain to the Emperor of Austria; but that he was the head of the family. It appeared to me that he was regarded by the other members of it with almost religious enthusiasm. He is about fifty years old, and in excellent preservation, though his youth was rather wild and riotous.

Among other things, he became notorious about ten years ago, for a duel he fought. The Protestants, to whom his talents early made him

formidable, set on a certain Desterre,--a bully and fighter by profession,to ride through all the streets of Dublin with a hunting-whip, which, as he declared, he intended to lay on the shoulders of the king of Kerry. The natural consequence was a meeting the next morning, in which O'Connell lodged a bullet in Desterre's heart; Desterre's shot went through his hat. This was his first victory over the Orange men, which has been followed by so many more important, and, it is to be hoped, will be followed by others more important still.

His desire for celebrity seemed to be boundless; and if he should succeed in obtaining emancipation, of which I have no doubt, his career, so far from being closed, will, I think, only then properly begin. But the evils of Ireland, and of the constitution of Great Britain generally, lie too deep to be removed by emancipation.-To return to O'Connell; I must mention that he has received from Nature an invaluable gift for a party leader ; a magnificent voice, united to good lungs and a strong constitution. His understanding is sharp and quick, and his acquirements out of his profession not inconsiderable. With all this, his manners are, as I have said, winning and popular; although somewhat of the actor is perceivable in them, they do not conceal his very high opinion of himself, and are occasionally tinged by what an Englishman would call " vulgarity." Where is there a picture entirely without shade?

'Another interesting man, the real though not ostensible head of the Catholics, was present, Father L'Estrange, a friar, and O'Connell's confessor. He may be regarded as the real founder of that Catholic Association so often derided in England, but which, by merely negative powers, by dexterous activity in secret, and by universally organizing and training the people to one determinate end, attained a power over them as boundless as that of the hierarchy in the middle ages; with this difference, that the former strove for light and liberty, the latter for darkness and slavery. This is another out-break of that second great revolution, which solely by intellectual means, without any admixture of physical force, is advancing to its accomplishment; and whose simple but resistless weapons are public discussion and the press. L'Estrange is a man of philosophical mind and unalterable calmness. His manners are those of an accomplished gentleman, who has traversed Europe in various capacities, has a thorough knowledge of mankind, and with all his mildness cannot always conceal the sharp traces of great astuteness. I should call him the ideal of a wellintentioned Jesuit. As O'Connell was busy, I took an early walk with the friar to a desert island, to which we crossed dry-footed over the smooth sand now left by the ebb. Here stand the genuine ruins of Derrinane Abbey, to which O'Connell's house is only an appendage. It is to be repaired by the family, probably when some of their hopes are fulfilled.

'On our return we found O'Connell on the terrace of his castle, like a chieftain surrounded by his vassals, and by groups of the neighbouring peasantry, who came to receive his instructions, or to whom he laid down the law. This he can the more easily do being a lawyer; but nobody would dare to appeal from his decisions. O'Connell and the Pope are here equally infallible. Law-suits, therefore, do not exist within his empire; and this extends not only over his own tenantry, but I believe over the whole neighbourhood.

I wondered, when I afterwards found O'Connell and L'Estrange entirely

free from religious bigotry, and even remarked in them very tolerant and philosophical views, though they persisted in choosing to continue true Catholics. I wished I had been able to conjure hither some of those furious imbeciles among the English Protestants, as, for instance, Mr. L——, who cry out at the Catholics, as irrational and bigotted; while they themselves alone, in the true sense of the word, cling to the fanatical faith of their politico-religious party, and are firmly predetermined to keep their long ears for ever closed to reason and humanity.'-vol. i. pp. 334-338.

While staying in that part of Ireland, our traveller visited the most remarkable scenery in its neighbourhood, not omitting the beautiful bay of Glengariff, nearly encircled by mountains, the recesses of which are inhabited by a patriarchal race of people. So mild and equable is the climate here, that the author observed, suspended to the branch of a blackberry bush, a large honeycomb, which the bees made in the open air. The weight of the honey bowed the branch to the earth, and they were still busily adding to their store.' On the banks of a clear spring, that ran near them, the Egyptian lotus thrived admirably. He next bent his way to Cork and Cashel, where he was entertained by the liberal club, and the clergy of all denominations, in the most hospitable manner. He entered with much zeal into the politics of the country, and with true-hearted indignation lifts up his hands, as all honest men must do, in wonder at the crying injustice, which compels the great majority of its population to support a church which they detest, at an enormous and intolerable expense. The following remarks, founded upon information which cannot be contradicted, come with irresistible force from a foreigner, who cannot be supposed to have been actuated by any party or local feelings.

'The most scandalous thing, however, is, that the Catholics are forced to pay enormous sums to the Protestant clergy, while they have entirely to maintain their own, of whom the state takes no notice. This is manifestly one great cause of the incredible poverty of the people. How intolerable must it appear in a country like Ireland, where more than twothirds of the whole population are most zealously devoted to the Catholic religion! In the south, the proportion is much larger. In the county of Tipperary, there are about 400,000 Catholics, and only 10,000 Protestants: nevertheless, the Protestant clergy costs the inhabitants the following sums yearly :

The Archbishop

The Dean

For about 50 parishes, on an average, each

£25,000,

4,000,

1,500,

which charge, of course, falls mainly on the Catholics. Most of the parsons do not even live in Ireland, but put some poor devil, with a salary of 501. or 601. a-year, to perform their duties; these are the far-famed curates the duties are, indeed, soon performed, as there are parishes which do not contain more than ten Protestants; and, indeed, there is one in this neighbourhood, in which not one is to be found, and not even a churchonly an old ruin, in which the "farce" of divine worship is, once a year, acted to empty walls, during which a Catholic, hired for the occasion, per