with passengers; the town and villages, and villas on both banks, and the noble quays clustered with shipping,—all give indications of a trading city of the first importance. And yet its population has not of late years much increased.

being only six and three-tenths per cent. in ten

years.

We dined, on our return, at Sir Thomas Deane`s of Dundanion castle, where I had the pleasure of meeting my friend Mr. Maclise, to whom I am indebted for the few characteristic etchings which embellish my little volume; and in the evening returned to Cork. Being desirous of making a trip to Blarney castle, to see the groves of Blarney, “that look so charming"

“Down by the purlings of sweet silent brooks,”

I made up my mind to start at an early hour the following morning: when the morning arrived, it is almost superfluous to say, that it rained—and it continued to do so the whole day long. I felt, however, that it was impossible to submit to be hereafter taunted with having been at Cork and not having seen Blarney; so, making a bargain with a jingleman, off I started to this fine old ruin.

I ascended to the summit of the tower, on a cor

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ner of which is placed the famous Blarney-stone, which I was very gravely assured possessed the power of making those who kiss it ever after agreeable in their conversation to the ladies-" A consummation devoutly to be wished," thought I. Och, your honour must kneel down and kiss it three times," quoth the guide; and shure you'll be able to coax the ladies-fait, there's niver the gintleman that misses!" Now, my friend, tell me truly if you don't mean by 'talking blarney,' the impudence of telling 'mighty big lies' without blushing?" "Fait, and I believe your honour has just hit it; and shurely don't the gintlemen talk blarney to the ladies, and do it all the better for kissing the stone?" I found there was no resisting the virtues of the blarney-stone, so down I popped, and the stone having been well washed by the rain, I bestowed upon it three kisses, which, however strong their virtues may be in warming the hearts of the ladies, struck icy cold to my lips.

I next walked down to the groves, and found the ' gravel-walks' in anything but a fit state for

"recreation

And meditation in sweet solitude."

There is a remarkably fine laurel which attracted my notice, the spreading branches of which have again taken root in the rocks, like another baniantree. The arbutus and other evergreens are here all in a most flourishing state; and the whole drive to Blarney, by the side of a small river which

joins the Lee, is through a rich and beautiful country. I do not know whether it was a marketday at Cork, but we met a great quantity of cattle going towards the city. The men who accompanied them were well wrapped up in large cloth cloaks.

Having secured my seat in one of Bianconi's cars for Fermoy, intending to proceed to Mitchellstown (where is to be seen Lord Kingston's fine estate, and some interesting caves, recently discovered), and thence to Clonmell, I was up at five o'clock in the morning, the hour appointed for departure; but, alas! the clouds were pouring down water, which fell perpendicularly, as if discharged from buckets. I knew that no clothing could possibly resist it above a quarter of an hour, and at once made up my mind to forfeit my fare, as senior Bianconi's cars have no other canopy than the overhanging firmament.

I now determined, if the weather held up a little (which it did towards mid-day), to proceed en route for Castle Martyr, and sleep at Youghal. Thus ended the month of September, 1835; a month never to be forgotten by those who were unlucky enough to be travelling for pleasure in Ireland. It required the patience of Job to resist growling; but upon a friend of mine remarking that the weather was not worse for me than for the young Prince de Joinville, who had gone to enjoy the scenery at Killarney for a day or two, I derived a negative

sort of consolation from the idea, that a wet jacket would harm me no more than it would the prince. He started from the "Imperial" at the same hour that I did. He is a fine young man, with a mild, and somewhat melancholy' expression of countenance, not having much the look of a " jolly tar."

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LETTER XVII.

CORK TO YOUGHAL, WATERFORD, AND WEXFORD.

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A Pretty Beggar-Girl — Middleton - Castle-Martyr - Political Coaches-Youghal — Walter Raleigh-Lismore-Cappoquin and Trappists - Dungarvon-Election Anecdote CopperMines-Funeral Procession-Keeners Punch and Porter Houses-Gows and Polheens-Quarrelling and Fighting constitutional-Patron Day- Waterford-Curroughmore-The young Marquess-Absentees-Wexford-The Bloody-Bridge -Catholic College-Population.

Werford, 3rd October, 1835.

On the afternoon of the 30th of September I left Cork for Castle-Martyr. The starting of the coach being somewhat less punctual than myself, I was beset by a shoal of beggars, while quietly seated on the roof of the coach, muffled up in my cloak. One of these caught hold of the corner of it, and gave it a pull to beget attention. It was a female, and the prettiest beggar-girl I had yet seen in any of the numerous groups: finding this would not do, she very quietly laid hold of my foot, exclaiming, "Come, you beauty, won't you now give a poor crathur sixpence-only one little sixpence?" with a smiling and captivating look, which was quite irresistible, and which drew from me also an involuntary smile: this was all she seemed to think requi