in comfort. The next morning at Castle Blaney, he took a seat on the outside of the coach for Dublin. On passing out of Ulster into the province of Leinster, the miserable mud cabins along the road indicated a state of wretchedness and depth of poverty among the peasantry, so great as to be utterly indescribable, and of which an eye-witness can alone conceive. As they proceeded southwardly, they were accosted by beggars, and at Drogheda they gathered around them in swarms, annoying them by their importunities, and amusing them by their quick, witty replies. The same evening they reached Dublin.

Dublin, the capital of Ireland, is situated on the margin of a beautiful bay on the river Liffey, which is crossed by eight bridges, and contains a population of 250,000. It is much better built than London, and has an unusual number of splendid streets and public edifices, displaying great architectural taste. Trinity college, which has 1600 students, and 150,000 volumes in its library, one of the first institutions of the kind in Europe, is located here. The public squares of the city are celebrated, and Phoenix Park, "the pride of the city," is the finest pleasure ground in Europe, containing over 1700 acres, or nearly three square miles. The ground is of an undulating character, and is covered with groups of forest trees, ravines in their native wildness, green grass-plots, with walks and blooming flowers; herds of cattle and deer, roam in it at pleasure. It contains a zoological garden, the mansions of the Lord Lieutenant and his secretary, and a tall obelisk in honor of the victories of Wellington.

But to all the beauty and magnificence of the city, there is a sad drawback in the throngs of beggars in rags and filth that one meets at every step, compared to which, the wretchedness of other lands is comfort. Miserable women, carrying still more miserable children, and men of strong frames, but gaunt with hunger, in plaintive tones beg charity of you for the love of God. The inhabitants, hardened to sight of distress, seldom bestow anything upon the sufferers, and it is only the stranger, unaccustomed to such scenes, whose heart melts in compassion.

From Dublin on the east, Dr. Durbin crossed the center of the island, to Limerick, the chief city of the west of Ireland. With the exception of a few good houses in the center of the towns through which he passed, all the dwellings were wretched, thatched, and floorless hovels, having but a single window, and usually a dung-heap before the door. Out of the large towns, Dr. Durbin did not recollect meeting with a single individual whose clothes were not old, patched, and ragged, and apparently not made for him.

The interior of the cabins of the Irish peasants is most miserable. Their only furniture consists of a broken table, an old chair, a few pieces of broken crockery, and straw for beds. And wherever a pig is seen stretched upon the same earth floor with the family, it is an indication of superior prosperity; for the pig is not eaten by the family, but is the only means of paying the "rent." The poor laborer destitute of a pig, has to support his family, and meet his rent into the bargain, from his paltry wages of ten pence per day Limerick, a place of flourishing trade, has a population of 60,000. In wandering through the part called the Old Town, our traveler was "sick at

stomach and at heart," at the scenes of wretchedness that met his view. Immense numbers of the poor and miserable were packed together in dismal narrow lanes, nauseating with filth, in little hovels, destitute of windows, in many cases, of beds and tables, and with no other furniture than a broken chair or two, and a rude box or barrel; even straw was a rare luxury.

The Shannon, upon which Limerick is situated, is the finest river in the British isles, and to those who have never been out of the United Kingdom, truly a noble stream, being navigable for small steamers, by means of occasional artificial canals, for about 240 miles. Compared, however, to our majestic rivers, it is but a mere rivulet. Our traveler having expressed the belief in the presence of a company of intelligent English gentlemen, that if ́ all the running streams in Great Britain and Ireland were, at the season of the spring floods, at once poured into the Mississippi fifty miles above New Orleans, the good people of that city would not be aware that anything unusual had happened, was met with an incredulous expression, which showed that they thought this but a fair specimen of Yankee exaggeration. In this connection he remarks, that the English are unwilling to believe that any country exceeds the standard of things in their own; and in relation to our geography, statistics, and social condition, the most intense ignorance prevails among all classes, Mrs. Trollope being quite an oracle among them.

From Limerick our traveler again turned southward to Killarney, in the south of Ireland, passing through a rich but poorly-cultivated country, with splendid gentlemen's seats, dirty villages, old abbeys, Catholic churches, and miserable peasants. At Killarney he took a jaunting car to the Lower lake, a few miles distant.

The lakes of Killarney lie in a semicircle around the base of Macgillicuddy's Reeks, the loftiest mountains in Ireland: their moss-covered sides and towering peaks greatly enhance the charms of this beautiful spot. The lakes are three in number, and of unequal size. Lough Lane, the lower lake, by far the largest of the three, contains a number of wooded islands, on one of which are the remains of a castle, and on another the ruins of an abbey. On the shore toward the east, is the beautiful ruin of Muckruss Abbey, a Gothic edifice, covered with a thick mantle of ivy which throws a richness and a softness over the whole. "The ruins, especially of ecclesiastical edifices in Ireland," says our traveler, "lie generally amid scenes of great natural beauty. The old unworldly fathers, certainly, had an open eye for the loveliness of the earth."

Having visited the Abbey, Dr. Durbin resumed the jaunting car, when a little girl about twelve years of age ran up and offered pears for sale, keeping up with the car although it was in rapid motion. Having no small. change, he told her so, when, with native wit, she instantly replied, "May your honor's word niver be doubted." Upon this he took her fruit, promising to leave the money with the driver: her ready acquiescence evinced faith in his honor's word."

Divided from the lower lake by the fine wooded promontory of Muckruss, but accessible by two channels of level water, is the middle, or Turk lake. The beauty of these two sheets of water is owing to the green isles which

repose on their bosom, the irregular promontories and slopes, generally wooded, forming their shores, and the mountains which tower in sterile grandeur above them. In many nooks of the scenery elegant mansions look out upon the lakes; in others, the mountain streams are seen descending in glittering cascades. The upper lake, the third of the series, is three miles apart from the center one, on a higher level, totally imbosomed among the hills, and presenting a landscape of enchanting loveliness. A stream connecting with the other is passed in a boat; and at a particular place on the passage, the bugle is often played, to call forth oft-repeating echoes from the neighboring hills. In connection with the lake, the narrow rugged vale of Dunloe is generally visited by the tourist.

Our traveler was delighted with the scenery of the lakes. He spent but one day among them, but could have enjoyed weeks. He was struck with the wonderful richness of the foliage, and the bloom of the wild-flowers. The charms of the lower lake seemed to him to eclipse those of the others, the greatest attractions being the islands of Ross and Innisfallen. The scenery, on approaching the former by water, seemed more exquisite than on any on the lakes of Switzerland, while Innisfallen, with its noble trees, shrubbery, wilderness of flowers, sunny lawns, shaded dells, and the crumbling ruins of its old abbey, appeared a perfect paradise. He could hardly tear himself away from the spot, and in the words of Moore could not but exclaim :

"Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well!

May calm and sunshine leng be thine;

How fair thou art let others tell,

While but to feel how fair, is mine.

Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well!

And long may light around thee smile,

As soft as on that evening fell

When first I saw thy fairy isle."

The boat on which Dr. Durbin passed through the lakes was manned by a fine, full-chested, noble crew, with "bright eyes and ready tongues." He says, his heart bled for them, toiling so willingly for tenpence a-day. "Yet," continues he," they are full of the sense of wrong: God forbid that it should be ever ground out of them!" We lead a dog's life here, so we do, and it'll never be better,' said one of them, sadly, as with his fellows, he was rowing us over their own beautiful lake. He spoke truth. At all events it will never be better until the soil of Ireland shall be restored to Irishmen."

From the lakes of Killarney, our traveler proceeded to Cork, and during the journey saw that relic of barbarity, a tread-mill, in active operation. The name Cork, is derived from the Irish word corcah, signifying a marsh. This ancient city is second only to Dublin in commerce and population, and contains about 100,000 inhabitants. It is handsomely situated upon the river Lee, and has a more thriving population than any town our traveler saw in the south of Ireland. This appearance of thrift was doubtless owing in a great measure to the temperance reformation, Cork being then, the residence of its great apostle, Father Mathew, a sketch of whose exertions in this cause, is subjoined from an English publication.