and umbrella spire, as I have seen in a Swiss picture; and I collected me a congregation of God-fearing people. I built my lowly little school-house just sheltered under the southern side of yonder bold precipice, and I fancied the urchins breaking loose from restraint, bounding like kids and lambs over the rocks. I was thus sitting in the midst of my creation, when a naked-footed sturdy looking countryman passed beside me—the fellow looked at me with rather an untoward sort of aspect, and the intrusion of the man broke down all my edifice; I recollected myself to be but a stranger and a wanderer, and having asked the man a question concerning the name of the valley, he answering me gruffly in Irish; the spell was broken, I was reminded to retrace my steps, and make the best of my way to where I had left my servant and horse.

I proceeded no farther in an eastern direction than the village of Inchigeela,* which is

* Inchigeela was the centre of the Insurrection in 1822. The Curate of this parish, merely because he was a Minister, A

approached by a road leading along a very pretty chain of lakes, that is to say, it would be considered pretty in a country where lakes are not numerous; I returned to the vicinity of Bantry, having retraced my steps through the pass of Cooleagh, and passed the Castle and fortified enclosure of Carriganass on the river Ouvane, which was one of the last holds of the O'Sullivans, in the wars of Elizabeth. It was into this fortress that Donnel, son of Sullivan More, after he had made his peace

was obliged, in the middle of the night, to fly for his life, and leave his house, half naked, and escape across a bog.

As a specimen of the superstition of the people, I must relate what I heard from a person worthy of credit, resident in the vicinity. He was walking some time ago along the road, not very far from the Chapel; as he went forward, he observed some strange animals coming towards him, which, on nearer approach, he found to be seven or eight men going on all-fours along; and each person, as he thus painfully crept along, carried a bone in his mouth-and he observed that his own servant man formed one of the creepers. It was

a strange uncouth sight; but for the present, asking no questions, he passed on in the morning he asked his servant to explain, and the man told him that he and his companions were in the act of performing penance, according to the appointment of the Priest; and for having eaten meat in Lent, they were thus forced before all the people to imitate dogs.

with the President, and accepted the Queen's protection, enticed a detachment of Sir Charles Wilmot's-He offered the Englishmen hospitality, and on the faith of treaty, the detachment entered his Castle; in the night they were most cruelly butchered by "this inhuman perjured rebel," as the old historian rightly calls him.

And now I request my reader, to suppose me on the road from Bantry to Glengariff, passing Dunnemark, and along the shore of the bay for four miles, and here I was better off for society than in my passage through the Glen of Cooleagh-now I kept company with intellectual men, susceptible of the beauties of nature, and capable of reflecting, from their polished and accordant minds, the pleasurable feeling communicated to themI desire not for the rest of my pilgrimage through this present world, to hold converse and sweet fellowship with men more gifted and graced, with all that can make society endearing. As we passed in our jauntingcar along, (a most companionable vehicle by

the way, for three or four to travel in together) a personage passed us on horseback, of singular aspect and bearing, he was not what you would call well dressed, and yet he was not common or vulgar; he was strikingly tall, and yet did not sit straight on his saddle; he had a sort of uncouth stoop, and his knees from the shortness of his stirrups, formed with his chin, the extreme points of the curvature of his body. He was the very reverse of the picture I have seen of an old wigged warrior accoutred in Ramilies costume, astride on a great horse, as in the days of good Queen Anne. His bridle-bit and stirrups were silver. He was mounted, not on a Rozinante, but on a fine, fat, switch-tailed mare, whose protuberant sides promised very shortly to give birth to a fine foal. His countenance had all the lengthy solemnity of his Spanish ancestry; his complexion adust and dark, together with the aqueline nose and deep-seated eyes and mouth, gave a specialty and uncouthness to the whole man, that made you instantly ask, "Who is that?"

"That's O'Sullivan Dismal." "Dismal enough, without question; but is he thus so appropriately named from his aspect ?” “No, truly, he is a good-humoured, harmless, honest gentleman; but he is so named from his place there yonder; don't you see that house which stands out on that promontory: has it not a most lack-comfort aspect? that's Mount-Dismal. And there are so many of the O'Sullivans in this quarter, that we are obliged to give them soubriquets or nicknames, in order to mark the men."

This I found, as I passed through the district, was quite necessary, for almost every man is an O'Sullivan. The M'Gillicuddys are O'Sullivans, for M'Gillicuddy only signifies the son of White Gilbert O'Sullivan ; M'Fineen Duff signifies the son of Black Phelim O'Sullivan. In the course of my passage over the mountains dividing Cork from Kerry, I met a poor man, and entered into conversation with him concerning the land he held and the landlord he paid his rent to. "Who is your landlord ?"