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loftiest points, and then as the effect of his beams became felt, the mists seemed to sink into the gloomy hollow, a darker and heavier shadow settled on the valley, the mists steained upwards, just catching as they ascended a momentary glance of the sun, and then vanishing; the tops of the precipices became tenderly illuminated—and suddenly the glen was spanned by a rainbow that seemed melting into the tinted haze that clung about it. All the forms of the hills and cliffs and lakes were there, but all evanescent. It was one of the marvellous pictures of Turner changed into reality. The visitor may not see it thus, but he may see it under some equally grand effect of sun and shadow.

Lough Dan and Lough Tay, two of the largest of the Wicklow lakes, are usually visited from the Roundwood Inn at Togher, a house much frequented by tourists, on account of its serving as a convenient centre from which to visit, besides Luggala and the Loughs, the Devil's Glen and the Seven Churches. But we may proceed to the Loughs direct from Glendalough. The way thither is by the rough mountain road which at Laragh turns northward behind the barracks. As there is a meeting of roads at Laragh, the pedestrian must be careful not to take the wrong, which it is very easy to do, as the right one hardly looks like a road, and one or two of the others seem to lie nearly in the required direction. Laragh, we may remark in passing, is a rude, poor village, but not unpicturesque; and its cabins and their inhabitants would supply some good studies to a sketcher.

into an examination of them,—and indeed to attempt | sun began to touch with a straggling ray upon the to do so would involve an amount of antiquarian detail that would be quite out of place here. We may just notice in a few words the Round Tower, as that is a kind of structure always regarded with curiosity. This tower is fifteen feet in diameter at the base, and tapers very gradually to the summit; it is 110 feet high. Originally it was crowned by a conical roof, but that is gone. The entrance is by a narrow arched doorway, the bottom of which is eleven feet from the ground. The upper windows are very narrow. It is constructed of rubble stones of different sizes, but arranged in regular courses. The question, What could these towers have been intended for? has always been a hard problem for antiquaries. Many solutions have been proposed, but none is yet admitted as demonstrable. It has been suggested that they were beacons, dwelling-places for anchorites, sepulchres, and many other things even stranger than these, till some were ready to believe, as an Irishman hinted, that they were just built "to puzzle posterity." The opinion that seemed most to prevail among the learned was, that they were Fire-towers,' where the sacred fire was kept alive and it has been said that this opinion is countenanced by vague traditions still existing among the peasantry. But since the publication of Mr. Petrie's Essay on the Round Towers of Ireland, that hypothesis is less stoutly maintained, and there is a growing belief that they were erected by the Christian ecclesiastics who were settled in Ireland at a very early period. Mr. Petrie thinks they were intended to serve at once for keeps, or places of security from marauders, and for belfries. That they were meant to serve as strongholds we have very little doubt. Their position, too, always in connection with an ecclesiastical establishment, would seem to indicate that they were used as places of refuge by the ecclesiastics. The character and style of construction of the buildings prove, as we think, that they are of a later date than the worship of Baal. In a word, we believe that they were certainly the keeps of religious establishments; but of their other use or uses we are not so well satisfied. Mr. Petrie has laboriously and with great acumen investigated the matter, and he is convinced that they are belfries; and his opinion is entitled to the greatest respect.

If the visitor is disposed to stay here a day or two to examine these various objects at leisure, and to explore the neighbourhood (which is very grand), he will find decent accommodation at the little inn just by the church. It is well to spend a night here. The gloomy lake, grand as it appears in the day, becomes infinitely more so as the sun is sinking behind the hills, just glancing upon their summits, and leaving in deepest gloom the glen and the lakes. Having stayed at night in the glen as long as we could discern an object, we resolved to see it by the earliest dawn in the morning. Long before the sun we were there, and truly the spectacle that greeted us was a glorious one. The atmosphere was charged with a heavy mist, which settled low and thick in the glen; but by-and-by the 1015 of asrga belt to r

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At Oldbridge, just at the foot of Lough Dan, will be seen a small farm-house with an uncommon cheerful English well-to-do' aspect; here a boat may be hired to carry you over the Lough: it is only by means of a boat that Lough Dan can be properly seen. Lough Dan is not very large, being only a mile and three quarters long, and nowhere half-a-mile across: but it is set within a frame of rugged mountains, which impart to it a sufficiently wild character. Slieve Bukh is its boundary on the eastern side, the Scar Mountain on the west, while directly in front rises the broken peak of the lofty Knocknacloghole. From the comparative narrowness of the Lough and its winding course, it has somewhat the character of a broad, still river. The sides of the mountains, except at the Oldbridge end, are bare, rugged, and steep. Masses of blue crag project boldly from among the furze-clad wastes and the broken and scattered grassy slopes, where a few sheep find scanty pasturage. As you sail in the morning over the black water, while the mists are slowly breaking away from the mountain sides, all seems to wear an air of desolate majesty.

In order to visit Luggala you land where the Avonmore enters the Lough; but you should not land without first rowing to the head of the lake, as that is perhaps, the very finest part of it. Let us add, for the sake of Waltonian tourists, that although the trout are not large, there are plenty of them in Lough Dan, and some good fishing may be had there A narrow wind!

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ing valley, about two miles long, with the Avonmore flowing through it, lies between Lough Dan and Lough Tay. We will not stay to describe this pleasant vale, but we must, in passing, call attention to the spirited to the improvements that are being effected by the owner of this tract of country. The whole valley is being drained, the river turned into a more direct course, and an excellent road has been formed along the pass. We r joice to say that improvements of this nature are now very generally carried on in Ireland.

Lough Tay (Engraving) is much smaller than Lough Dan, being less than a mile long, and nowhere half a mile across, but it is more compact and lake-like, and it is generally regarded as the more beautiful. We confess to not sharing in this opinion. But Lough Tay is certainly very beautiful. It is encircled by lofty mountains, which in places rise almost precipitously from the water. The extensive plantations however take off much of the natural grandeur it would otherwise possess; and the prevalence of spiry firs not only destroys the beauty which foliage might impart, but very materially injures the picturesqueness of the scene. Lough Tay lies wholly within the extensive and beautiful demesne of Luggala, of which it is of course the chief feature.

From Luggala, the Military Road will lead, by way of Sally Gap, to a couple more of the Loughs that are among the notabilities of Wicklow: they are well worth visiting. The road will afford some noble mountain views. From some of the heights on either hand, which may easily be ascended, will be seen a long range of

mountain summits, their peaks rising in grard per spective behind each other, and displaying as they recede the richest aerial effects. These mountains are entirely desolate. In the maps they are marked as the utning." So wild, desolate, and little "uninhabited mountains." So known were they, that after the rebellion in 1798 a number of the rebels were able to maintain themselves among them for some years, under the leadership of one Dwyer. It was not till the Military Road was constructed through the district, after the outbreak in 1803, that there could be said to be any road over these mountains. This wild pass of Sally Gap, where we now are, Wicklow Gap, and Glenmalure, were the only practicable entrances.

The Lough Brays (or Breagh) lie both of them high up among the mountains, the one being 1,423 and the other 1,225 feet above the sea. Both lie in deep glens, and both are very fine. Upper Lough Bray is the lonelier, and perhaps the grander; the Lower Lough is the more cheerful. The scenery around both is exccedingly beautiful. After visiting the Loughs, the pretty village of Enniskerry will be the object to be attained; and Glencree might be seen on the way. Then from Enniskerry, by the Scalp, to Dublin.

There is another route through which we intended to lead the tourist. That, namely, from Laragh or Glendalough up Glendassan, by Wicklow Gap, and along the desolate mountain roads to Polaphuca Waterfall, and thence to Blessington, returning in another direction. But we do not recommend it unless our wayfarer have a superabundance of time on hand.

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1

THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY.

SOME time has past since we saw Killarney; but every succeeding day and night brings it more distinctly to our vision. We looked upon those lakes and mountains with slight book-knowledge of them; we lost no enjoyment in the dreary labour of note-taking; we made no passing thoughts (sweet or bitter) prosaic, by attempting their registry. But Killarney, in its graceful and solemn aspects, in sunshine or in mist, will be to us "a joy for ever."

"Ah! that such beauty, varying in the light Of living nature, cannot be pourtray'd By words, nor by the pencil's silent skill; But is the property of him alone Who hath beheld it, noted it with care, And in his mind recorded it with love." We have not alluded to "bitter" thoughts unadvisedly. An eloquent and philospohical French writer has described the physical contrasts which the neighbourhood of Killarney presents :-"On approaching the Lakes of Killarney, and halting near the Abbey of Mucruss, we look upon two scenes essentially different. On one side, uncultivated fields, sterile bogs, monotonous plains, where feeble rushes and consumptive pines gloomily vegetate, wide stretches of heath, intersected here and there by low rocks,-this unvarying aspect, destitute of all beauty in its wildness, proclaims only the poverty of Nature. It is impossible to imagine a more barren and desolate tract. But on the other side, a totally different prospect bursts on the view. At the foot of a chain of mountains, of gracefully varied outline, separated from each other by a succession of charming lakes, are spread rich and fertile plains, green and smiling meadows, forests, gay with ferns and verdant undergrowth; here, cool shades, secret grottos, mysterious caverns,—there, wide vistas, bold summits, an unbounded horizon; the margin of the silver streams covered with luxuriant shrubs,-everywhere, abundance, richness, grace,-everywhere the extraordinary accident of Nature at once most beauteous and most fruitful. Thus, at one and the same time, two aspects present themselves to the eye which are absolutely opposed-here the perfection of abundance, there the extremity of barrenness."

But the "bitter" thoughts have their source in feelings kindred to the analogy which M. Gustave de Beaumont sees in this his picture of Killarney. He says, "Ir IS THE IMAGE OF IRELAND." The physical contrasts are here somewhat overcharged; but the contrast that forces itself upon our mind, between the exquisite loveliness of the inanimate creation and the debased condition of a portion of the noblest of God's works that we trace here and all around, mixes up the people mournfully in all remembrances of the scenery. The great question of the condition of Ireland is not to be under

| stood in a rapid transit through a small portion of the country; but he that has looked upon any of the more afflicted districts of that land with his own eyes, however imperfectly, is in a better position than before to weigh the mass of evidence, embarrassing and contradictory as it is, as to the extent, and causes, and possible remedies, of Ireland's great social disease. Happily for Ireland, something has been done, since the period to which we allude, for her amelioration. From the misery in which the visitation of Heaven had prostrated her she is at length arising. The chastisement, if severe, has been wholesome. A new spirit of energy and of industry has been infused into her, and already this beautiful region, as well as many another locality, is giving evidence of regeneration that fills us with hope for the future.

The journey from Dublin to Killarney is accomplished now in less than nine hours. The Great Southern and Western Railway carries you a hundred and fortyfive miles, from Dublin to Mallow, in six hours and a half, and thence by the new railway to Killarney in about two hours more. There are many objects of interest to be seen along the line; yet what can we see worth recording in the rapid and monotonous transit by the iron road? We first roll on through a tolerably fertile country, not badly cultivated, but presenting few remarkable objects. The Wicklow mountains linger in our view, with no rivals to break the monotony of the level. We pass through the Curragh of Kildare, and then gaze upon the ruined Cathedral and the mysterious Round Tower by its side. Now and then we descry a mansion on a hill slope, with fair plantations and smiling meadows, and a hamlet at its feet that we might fancy the abode of peace, did we not know what Irish hamlets for the most part are. In the distance is the famous Rock of Dunamase, crowned with the ruins of the castle of Strongbow, the great English earl, who won the fortress, not by the strength of his arm, but by marriage with the daughter of Mac Murrough, king of Leinster. It is strange that, with these marriages and intermarriages, in the early times of the conquest, there should have been six centuries of hatred between the Celt and the Saxon. Saxons and Normans became one race in a century or two. But the Rock of Dunamase may solve the mystery. The wars of conquest were succeeded by the wars of religion; the castle of Strongbow was battered into ruin by the cannon of Cromwell. We ride on, through large tracts of peat moss; but the distance is varied by the bold outlines of the Slievebloom and the Devil's-Bit mountains. It is a bleak country, with occasional patches of fertility. There are towns about the line,-most with small trade, some dilapidated, all somnolent. They have to be awakened by the inevitable course of agricultural improvement,

T-VOL. III.

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