looking population; full half that I meet in the streets, very shabbily dressed; many in rags; the boys would collect in America, and the very dogs would bark, at spectacles that pass me every moment; men and women on every side begging; women with children in their arms, imploring charity for God's sake; yes, innocent childhood is here involved in the common mass of misery, and that is the hardest of it to the spectator. Indeed, I have seldom seen anything more striking or touching, than a child sleeping in its mother's arms amid all this surrounding turmoil and distress. It is actually picturesque, if one may say so the image of repose amid noise and turbulence; innocence amid vice and wretchedness; unconscious ease on the bosom of suffering; helplessness imploring even more pathetically than the wan and haggard features of maternal solicitude. No doubt there is a good deal of acting in this system of beggary. For instance, I saw a little girl, last evening, seated on the curbstone of the sidewalk, and holding in her arms a sleeping infant-but holding a candle at the same time so as to exhibit the infaut to the best advantage. This is going on the stage pretty early. What the receipts were I do not know, but they doubtless expected to be repaid the outlay of lights and wardrobe, and something more.

It is a comfortable reflection which I have often had occasion to make, that Providence does, after all, dispense many blessings, which neither the pride nor improvidence of man can destroy. The children of the poor sleep as sound and are as merry, probably, as the children of the rich. And perhaps, after all, these splendid equipages that are passing on every side, bear as many heavy and aching hearts, as lean against the steps and balustrades by the wayside.

Everything is done here to get money. For instance, the scene in the street before the windows of my hotel, last evening, presented the two following specimens. First, a man with a hand-organ struck up, and a woman and child (his wife and daughter probably), after carefully laying down their bonnets and shawls, commenced dancing in the street, and after a variety of evolutions, they went round to the spectators to collect as many pence as they could. Next came a man with a flute, and a child apparently four or five years old was set to dancing upon stilts five feet high.

SUNDAY, P.M.-This afternoon I have heard the finest church-music by far that I have ever listened to; and the only performers were a man and two boys. It was at St. Patrick's Cathedral. The organ is the richest I ever heard. As to the ages of the children, the one of them might be ten, and the other twelve or thirteen years old. Their voices were so completely formed, that I supposed, for some time, that women were singing, and at the same time peculiarly soft, with none of that shrillness which is apt to be the fault in a woman's voice. The man's voice was a perfect organ. Amid the deepest notes of the organ, I heard it as distinctly as the diapason itself. The greatest ease characterized the whole performance, as it always does the highest music. The sermon was very well-the reading execrably bad. The prayers were sung forth in a kind of recitative tone peculiar to the cathedral worship of the church of England; for it falls short in the tone of song of that which is used in the Jewish and Romish rituals. The service, held as it was in this ancient building, beneath high Gothic arches, surrounded by ancient marble tombs and statues, by galleries of every

fashion, and carved work, curious and antique, with banners overhead, and helmets and swords hung on the walls-the service, I say, in such circumstances, seemed as if it ought to be held by no common people— but by the high-born and the high-bred-by renowned knights, or heroes going forth to battle for their country.

66

Such

After attending upon the service at the cathedral, I passed the evening with Mrs. Hemans. The conversation naturally turned upon the scene I had just left, and her part in it was sustained with the utmost poetical enthusiasm. She spoke of the various accompaniments of the service, and when she came to the banners, she said, they seemed to wave as the music of the anthem rose to the lofty arches." I ventured here to throw in a little dash of prose-saying that I was afraid that they did not wave; that I wished they might, and looked up to see if they did, but could not see it. "No," she replied with vivacity, wave is not the word-but they thrilled-I am sure of that." And that, it is very likely, something short of "the vision divine" might see. vision, however, this lady undoubtedly possesses. She has the genuine afflatus, and those who think its breathings too measured and monotonous do not consider or read her poetry in the right way. There is nothing dramatic or epic in her best poetry; it is essentially lyrical; and those who attempt to read it by the volume, as much mistake as if they should undertake to read a book of hymns, or the Psalms of David in that way. In her own chosen walk, Mrs. Hemans has few competitors in Britain, and no equal; and so long as solemn cathedrals, and ancestral halls, and lowly homes remain in England, her song will not die away.

July 8.-I have experienced to-day my first traveller's vexation. I had fallen in with a couple of travellers in Wales, and we had agreed to go in company to the Giant's Causeway. We had taken our passage to Belfast, for this morning, and when the coach drove up to the door of our hotel, it was so overloaded that we could not go in it. It was amusing to see the national characteristics of my companions on this occasion. The Englishman was all pride, and wrath, and decision. "I will not go in this coach!" was his reply to the apologetic coachman-" and I will be sent on! or I will apply to a magistrate and see if there is any law in Ireland." The Frenchman appeared not a little like a subject under a galvanic battery; he shook his fist, and his elbows twitched, and he stammered and stuttered-saying I know not what— for I was too much amused with the muscular contractions, to take notice of anything else. The American-videlicet myself-was very calm on the occasion, and this calmness is said to be our national trait of manner. I understand this last observation, however, to apply only to the case of an affray or dispute.

To BELFAST, July 9.-The most remarkable town on this route is Drogheda, with a population of 25,000, and yet looking like a population of mendicants; scarcely a well-dressed man or woman in the thronged streets; but decrepitude and disease, beggary, rags, presenting themselves everywhere in frightful masses. It is almost entirely a city of mud-walled cottages, and thatched roofs; and altogether a spectacle so entirely unlike anything I ever witnessed before, or shall probably ever witness again, that I would not have failed to come and see it. Drogheda is a walled town, standing on the river Boyne, and known in

history as surrendering to William III. after the battle of Boyne. The battle was fought near this town; an obelisk, which we saw at a distance, marks the spot. William's conquest is celebrated on the twelfth of this month, by processions of the Protestants, which, being held in dislike by the Catholics, often occasion quarrels-on which account, troops are at this time ordered into the north, and we passed a regiment of them to-day. Indeed, these "grievances red-dressed" of Ireland appear everywhere in all the cities and villages.

We have passed hundreds of Irish cottages to-day; but what pen shall describe them, that does not literally bespatter the page with mire and dirt! Mud and thatch, with little light-nasty as pigstyes-ragged women and children about the door, and often the men lying down by their hovels, in laziness, filth, and rags-a horribly vile puddle always before the door, for the accommodation of the most horribly filthy animals -said animals, in the mean time, equally and worthily occupying the domicile with the human beings who inhabit it. And to complete the picture of general misery, women beggars surrounded us every time we stopped, with children in their arms, imploring charity. From the numbers of children, indeed, it would seem as if this were the most prolific country under heaven. But it may be, because none of them go to school, and all live out of doors.

The latter part of the ride, through Newry, Hillsborough, and Lisburn, has been through a beautiful and rich country, and has been, indeed, such a redeeming scene for my general impressions of Ireland, that I am most glad to have passed through it.

We have passed a number of large peat bogs. They are evidently the beds of decayed forests; for trees are constantly dug out of them. Do I remember to have read, or have I heard, that some king of England, perhaps Richard II. finding that the forests of Ireland rendered it difficult of conquest, gave to his English subjects, who would come over and settle in Ireland, as much land as they would fell the wood upon? If so, an act of destruction and tyranny laid up a treasure for the future wants of Ireland, and one almost indispensable to the existence of the people-and a treasure too, not only of materials for warming their houses, but for building them. For the trunks of those ancient forests are found in these peat bogs in such a state of preservation that they are actually valuable timber-particularly the spruce; the oak too, though not so sound.

CUSHENDALL, July 10.-The ride to-day, in the county of Antrim, of which indeed Belfast is the shire town, and through the villages of Carrickfergus, Larne, and Glenarm, has been delightful. The vicinity of Belfast, on this side, is rich in scenery; and the little village of Glenarm, directly under your eye and almost under your feet, as you descend the lofty hill which you pass over to reach it, with its embowering groves of trees, and the fine seat and grounds of some lord of the manor here, is a perfect charm. The road has been mostly by the sea-shore, winding around bold bluffs, and promontories, and rocky crags, and has presented many delightful views of intermingled ocean and hill or mountain scenery. Latterly, the rocky barriers of the ocean, by which I have been passing, have begun to assume something of that appearance of regular formation which I expect to see perfected at the Giant's Causeway.

This north-eastern part of Ireland was originally settled by the Scotch, and it bears a very different aspect from the southern portions of the route on which I have been passing. There is everywhere an appearance of thrift and comfort; and beggars have almost disappeared. The countenances of the people show a different origin-are more agreeable, more intelligent, more alive with expression-nay, and shorter and broader. I saw two or three schoolhouses, also, which I have scarcely met with before, on my way.

July 11. BUSHMILLS, two miles from the Giant's Causeway.-The road is through Ballycastle to this place.

Nothing, it would seem, can resist abject, deep, desperate poverty, for we have passed through two or three small villages to-day, of Scottish origin, which are, if possible, more insufferably dirty than any I have seen before, albeit Irish.

Carrick-a-Rede is about six miles on the road to the Causeway-a place of tremendous precipices by the sea; with a hanging bridge suspended on ropes over a chasm eighty feet deep, leading to a small island, where is a salmon fishery. The ropes looked very small, and very old. I inquired of the guide how old they were, and he said, many years. I advised him in conscience to inform all travellers of that fact, and promised him his task of conducting them over would be excused, as it was of performing that service for me; for I have no chances of life to throw away, when no good is to result either to myself or others. The colour of the sea-green water here, with dark masses of sea-weed interspersed, is more beautiful than I ever saw elsewhere.

GIANT'S CAUSEWAY.-No one should come here, without taking a boat, if the state of the water will permit, and going to see the great cavern and the Pleaskin; which are the sublime things about this wonderful work of nature. The cavern is six hundred feet long, and the arch over it, ninety feet high. The Pleaskin is the loftiest and most regular part of the gigantic ledge of basaltic rocks. One bold head or promontory advances forward perhaps a hundred and fifty feet in front of the general line of the precipice, and on each side the columns retreat in the form of an amphitheatre. There are several

others indeed, but this is the most striking. There is one that sustains a rock, which is called "the Crown," but the Pleaskin cliff appears as if it were the throne of the place, supported by ranges of peers on each side; and thus it has stood out and met, unshaken, the storms of thousands of years

After examining these spots, I went to the lower ranges of columns which rise just above the water, and landed from the boat to inspect them. They are wonderfully curious; of all sizes and shapes-from six to eighteen inches in diameter, from the triangle to the nine-sided -figure-though the hexagonal form is the most common; and so exactly fitted together, that in some places the water stands on them without finding any passage down. Each column consists of many parts, as is usually seen in columns of human construction. The length of the parts varies, from six to twelve and eighteen inches, and one has been found about five feet long. To give strength to the whole mass, the articulations or joints of the columns are never in the same line, but vary— some of the blocks rise a little above others, presenting not a level but an uneven surface on the top. And furthermore, the surfaces at the

ends of the separate blocks are never plain, but convex and concave, the two kinds of surfaces always and exactly fitting into each other.

The height of the precipices upon the shore here is from three hundred and fifty to four hundred feet. The upper half only is columnar. The steamboat in which I took passage-from Portrush, three miles from the Causeway-carried us along the north coast of Ireland. The waves of the wild North Sea scem everywhere to have washed it to precipices. That of Fair Head is the most imposing cliff I have ever seen.

I must not forget to mention the ruins of the Castle of Dunluce, on this coast, a little above the Causeway. It stands upon, and completely covers, a small island which is about twenty feet from the shore, and is now permanently joined to it by a stone bridge for foot passengers. This island is itself a craggy precipice rising three hundred feet from the water, and on the very verge of the precipice stand the castle walls. How impregnable it must have been may be easily judged. And yet it was once taken by a ladder of ropes; not, however, without treachery in the garrison. It has been the scene of much romantic story in the Antrim family-this name having been conferred, with an earldom, upon the family of Dunluce. An earl of Antrim married the wife of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. The castle is in ruins of course, but the forms of the rooms, the chimney flues, &c. are preserved.

I found a usage prevailing on board the steamer which conveyed us to Glasgow, which marks the difference between English institutions and ours. Every steamboat, stage coach, and hotel, has its aristocratic place de reserve. Those who occupied the quarter deck of this boat, paid, I think, four times as much for their passage, as those who stood two feet below them on the main deck. Were such an arrangement to be made in one of our boats, the end of it, I suppose, would be, that everybody would go on the quarter deck.

CHAPTER III.

SCOTLAND—A STAGE COACH CONVERSATION-EDINBURGH; ITS UNRIVALLED BEAUTY — ARTHUR'S SEAT AND SALISBURY CRAG-DIFFERENCE BETWEEN OBJECTS OF ROMANCE AND OF REAL LIFE-HOLYROOD-ST. LEONARD'S CRAG -EXCURSION TO THE HIGHLANDS STIRLING— THE TROSSACKS-LOCH KATRINE-LOCH LOMOND-HIGHLAND COTTAGE AT INVERSNAID-HAMILTON-BOTHWELL BRIG-LANARK-TWEEDDALE-ABBOTSFORD-MELROSE AND DRYBURGH ABBEYS-COMPARISON BETWEEN THE PEOPLE OF SCOTLAND AND OF NEW ENGLAND.

As I took my place on the top of the coach at Glasgow for Edinburgh, I found a handsome young man seated opposite to me, a boy of twelve years, and a modest-looking Scotch girl, with eyes sparkling like diamonds, and a freckled cheek, which coloured and changed at every turn; and to whom the young gallant was evidently attempting to make himself agreeable. On the fore part of the coach sat a young fellow,

*I am told, however, that such an usage does prevail in the boats on the Mississipi.