single file over the sharp ridge. On the land side an escarpment, not indeed vertical, but steep enough to seem so from above, descends more than a thousand feet to the brink of a small tarn ; while, on the side facing the sea, the precipices descend to from 1300 to 1800 feet, literally straight as a wall, to the ocean. A narrow footway, high in the air, with both these awful abysses yawning on either side, is the One Man's Path, which, in the language and imagination of the people of the district, is the special characteristic of Slieve League, a distinction that it surely merits. The writer, while he agrees with the observation in Murray's Handbook as to the absence of any real danger of destruction from this path, would be sorry to press any visitor of weak nerve to venture on a dizzy ledge which abounds in awful incident of the kind that had nearly proved fatal to Lady Staunton, who, says the story-teller of the Heart of Mid-Lothian, "was an admirer of the beauties of nature, a taste which compensates many evils to those who happen to enjoy it, appeared to feel an interest and energy while in the open air, and traversing the mountain landscapes with the two boys, whose ears she delighted with stories of what she had seen in other countries, and what she had to show them at Willingham Manor." One day "she walked five

long miles, and over rough ground," to see a fine cascade in the hills; and "the scene, when she reached it, amply rewarded the labour of the walk." The view of the shoot, however, was broken by a jutting rock. "Those who love nature always desire to penetrate into its utmost recesses, and Lady Staunton asked David whether there was not some mode of gaining a view of the abyss at the foot of the fall. He said that he knew a station, on a shelf on the further side of the intercepting rock, from which the whole waterfall was visible, but that the road to it was steep, slippery, and dangerous. Bent, however, on gratifying her curiosity, she desired him to lead the way; and accordingly he did so, over crag and stone, anxiously pointing out to her the restingplaces where she ought to step; for their mode of advancing soon ceased to be walking, and became scrambling. In this manner, clinging like sea-birds to the face of the rock, they were enabled, at length, to turn round it, and came full in front of the fall, which here had a tremendous aspect, boiling, roaring, and thundering with unceasing din into a black caldron, a hundred feet at least below them, which resembled the crater of a volcano. The noise, the dashing of the waters, which gave an unsteady appearance to all around them, the trembling, even, of the huge crag on which they stood, the precari

G

ousness of their footing-for there was scarce room for them to stand on the shelf of rock which they had thus attained-had so powerful an effect on the senses and imagination of Lady Staunton, that she called out to David she was falling, and would, in fact, have dropped from the crag had he not caught hold of her. The boy was bold and stout of his age, still he was but fourteen years old; and as his assistance gave no confidence to Lady Staunton, she felt her situation become really perilous. The chance was, that in the appalling novelty of the circumstances, he might have caught the infection of her panic, in which case it is likely that both must have perished. She now screamed with terror, though without hope of calling any one to her assistance. To her amazement, the scream was answered by a whistle from above, of a tone so clear and shrill, that it was heard even amid the noise of the waterfall."* Of course this whistle was the harbinger

of sure relief.

The visitor who is afraid to trust himself on the One Man's Path may make a detour by Teelin, and gain the heights beyond by a gravelled path, on which one may ride to the top of the mountain. On the summit, within a short distance from the precipices, are the remains of an oratory and cell,

* The Heart of Mid-Lothian-Scott.

the hermitage, according to tradition, of a holy recluse, named Hugh MacBracken. Here again

is another One Man's Path, not indeed so awful as that which leads up from Bunglass, but still sufficiently tremendous to appal the unaccustomed visitor; and yet it was, up till the making of the broad road to Malinmore and Malinbeg, the great thoroughfare between those coasts and the interior of the country. As there is no danger, unless in the case of a very strong wind blowing from the land, the tourist ought to cross it to the other side, where this mountain cliff attains its highest elevation, 1974 feet. The view is worthy of this great maritime alp. Southwards, you take in a noble horizon of mountains ranging from Leitrim to the Stags of Broadhaven, and in the dim distance are seen Nephin above Ballina, and, when the atmosphere is peculiarly clear, CroaghPatrick above Westport. Looking inland you behold a sea of mountain tops receding in tumultuous waves as far as the rounded head of Slieve Snaght, and the sharp cone of Errigal. But, wondrous as is this view, it is in the majesty of the cliff that the scene is unrivalled. As one descends from the summit, on the farther side near the top, facing the sea, are one or two groups of slender quadrilateral pillars standing in singular isolation straight up from the steeply escarped side, called chimneys by the country

people. Strange fancy! and they are beautifully tapering chimneys to an edifice two thousand feet high, and many miles round about. The tourist, cautiously guarding his steps in the steep descent, should follow his guide down to one of the "chimneys," not so much with a view to inspect the example itself, as to gain a new stand-point from which to see the precipices. A quarry lately opened here shows this part of the mountain to be formed of piles of thin small flags of a beautiful white colour, thus proving what the geologist would have seen at the first glance, that the chimneys are portions of the formation of the precipice which have not yet wholly yielded to the atmospheric action that has worn the rest into a slope. And here observe how much there is in a name; for Slieve League (or Liaga) means the Mountain of Flags. Let the visitor now from this spot survey the wondrous architecture of the great cliff. The immense field of precipice down which he looks is the result of a combination of projections, and cavities, and ledges. Here a line of rock presenting a sharp edge cut into a series of indentations; there a recess running down the abyss like the hollow in an enormous fluted column; there, again, is a forest of projecting rocks assuming every form of crest, and all marvellously checkered with seams of stunted heath, dwarf shrubs, and peculiar grasses.