presented a view in the highest degree wild and picturesque. The principal summits in this range are Mangerton, Turk, Eagle's Nest, Tomies, and M'Gilly-Cuddy's Reeks. The last mentioned is the highest in Ireland, being about 3,500 feet above the level of the sea. As its location is near the Atlantic, and in a climate remarkably humid, its top is almost perpetually covered with mist. Among these hills the three lakes are embosomed, being near ten miles in length, connected by narrow straits, which are navigable with small boats. The largest and most beautiful of the islands is Inisfallen.

After gazing for a time at the outlines of the scene, we continued our ramble along the shore of the lower lake, towards Ross Castle, at the eastern end. It is in itself a fine ruin, but has been spoiled as an object of taste, by the addition of a large modern wing, occupied as a barrack, and resembling a hospital. The ancient part is beautifully mantled with ivy to the very top, which is about eighty feet from the ground, and to which we climbed through a dark winding stair-way, over crumbling arches. In the upper story is a large hall, in a tolerable state of preservation, called O'Donohoe's ball-room, through which the song of the minstrel, and the voice of merriment once rang. O'Donohoe was an ancient chieftain of Kerry, renowned for his prowess, his hospitality, and popularity among the Irish. You meet his name at every step on the shores of these lakes. One of the islands is called O'Donohoe's prison. He used there to confine his captives. Another is denominated O'Donohoe's Library; and a curious rock, of a grotesque form, is called O'Donohoe's-horse-drinking, from the striking similarity which it bears to such an object. There is a tradition here, that when the storm descends from the mountains and whitens the waves of the lake with foam, O'Donohoe is seen riding upon the water, still lingering about his favourite abode.

Ross Castle, like many other places in this vincinity, was distinguished in the wars of the Commonwealth. It was attacked by General Ludlow, and gallantly defended by Lord Muskery. A superstition prevailed, that it could not be taken until a man-of-war should ride upon the Lake of Killarney. A large boat in the shape of a frigate was accordingly brought across the mountains from the ocean, and soon after, the Castle was reduced, though not without a desperate conflict, attended with much bloodshed. We lingered about this ruin until 9 o'clock in the evening, and in the enthusiasm of the moment were not aware, that we had walked about eight Irish miles after dinner.

On the morning of the 6th inst. we set out, on ponies, for the head of the upper Lake, there to meet a boat which was to take us home.

The path leads by the ruin of Aghadoe, which is renowned in ecclesiastical history, and still gives title to a catholic bishop. We also passed the river Lanne, forming the outlet of the lake, over which is a handsome stone bridge with numerous arches. Near this are Beaufort and Dunloe Castle. In the course of the day we received some fine fruit from the garden belonging to the former-a present from our fellow-passengers in the coach from Cork. At a little distance from this point is the celebrated pass of Dunloe, being a narrow and rugged defile in the mountains, just wide enough for a road, which was so rough that we were compelled to dismount from our ponies and walk through. The hills rise almost perpendicularly on either hand, and immense masses of the rock have crumbled from the cliffs, blocking up the sides of the way with the fragments. A little stream with several expansions, in the form of ponds, passes through the gap. Goats and sheep were seen in some places among the rocks; and at one point, two of the latter had imprudently descended upon a cliff, from which they are unable to extricate themselves, and must soon perish. Around the summit of the highest mountain, we saw a brace of eagles, soaring and basking in the solar blaze. They build in the crags.

In the exaggerated descriptions of the scenery about these lakes, it is stated among other things, that persons have entered the gap of Dunloe, and were so terrified at the precipices overhanging them, as to retreat without venturing through. They must have had weak nerves, if there be the least foundation for the report. We experienced nothing like terror. The scene is grand, but cannot be considered awful. In sublimity, it is far inferior to the Notch in the White Hills of New-Hampshire. The Saco is a much finer river, than the streamlet hurrying down the rocky pass of Dunloe, and M'Gilly Cuddy's Reeks and Purple Mountain are mere mole hills, in comparison with Mount Washington.

From the height of ground in this celebrated gap, the sequestered vale of Comme Duff opens on the view towards the south-west, winding among the hills. It is a beautiful glen, watered by a small stream falling into the upper lake, near the mouth of which is a cottage and castle, belonging to Lord Brandon. Here we found our boat in waiting, and after a most fatiguing walk over a pathway impassable to our ponies, we embarked and commenced our descent through the lakes. Our first landing was upon Ronan's Island, situate in the midst of a group of four or five others, raising their verdant and wood-crowned summits to the height of fifteen or twenty feet above the tranquil surface of the water. We climbed to the top

of Ronan's, whence a fine panoramic view of the mountains and lake is obtained. On the border of the isle under a cliff, are the ruins of a cottage, the site of which is not inferior to that described by St. Pierre, and which a Paul and Virginia might not have disdained to inhabit.

The boat next landed us. near the base of one of the loftiest hills, denominated Derry-Cunnihy, on the south shore of the upper lake. Along a glen and brook of the same name, a walk winds among the trees for some distance. On emerging from the woods, and close by a beautiful cascade, the murmur of which is sent back in echoes from the mountain, the visitant finds a neat garden and cottage suddenly bursting upon his view. The sequestered dwelling is low-roofed and thatched, with alcoves in front, defended from the beams of the sun by trees and shrubbery. It is entirely surrounded by hedges of flowers. Roses and woodbines, in full bloom, actually peep in at the windows, and fill the air with fragrance. The grounds, garden, and cottage display more taste than I have elsewhere discovered in the vicinity of Killarney. They belong to the Rev. Mr. Hyde.

From this rural retreat we hastened down the shore of the upper lake, and through the straits connecting it with Turk, or the middle section, debarking at several points to take parting views of the hills. Several bridges in ruins and covered with ivy, crossed our passage and added much to the picturesque beauty of the scenery. The boat landed us on Dinis Island, just at the entrance of Turk Lake, and our guide conducted us to a cottage overhung and concealed by a delightful grove, where we dined on provisions brought from the hotel. Near this point we passed close by the foot of Eagle's Nest, the most rugged and finest peak of these mountains. It takes its name from an aerie of that noble bird, lodged for many years in the same crag of the rock, which was distinctly seen by us, at the height of a thousand feet from the base.

The echo at this and several other places is remarkable for its distinctness and number of repetitions. A bugleman first tried the experiment; but as the wind was high, Eolus outblew our Irish trumpeter. A small cannon was next loaded and discharged twice. The paterara, as it is called, succeeded to admiration. Half a dozen reverberations from remote parts of the mountain, at intervals sufficient to enable a person to count them, were clearly distinguishable. It is said that sixteen have been counted in still weather.

There is nothing very peculiar in Turk Lake, which washes the base of the mountain of the same name, except that it is the largest

unbroken expanse of water. It is, however, in all respects inferior to the crystal sheet of Lake George; and the scenery about the latter is equally beautiful with that of Killarney, with the single exception, that the mountains do not present so great a variety. As night was now fast approaching, we hurried across its dark and ruffled surface, and landing at its outlet, walked four Irish miles through the grounds belonging to Mrs. Herbert, for the purpose of viewing the ruins of Murcruss Abbey, which is the most celebrated spot in this region. Its location is at the eastern extremity of the lower lake. The ruin is entirely concealed from view, by the thick foliage of aged trees which surround it. Even on a near approach, the eye does not readily discover it, as the dilapidated and desolate walls are mantled with ivy, scarcely distinguishable from the verdure of the ground and woods.

A feeling of awe is felt on entering the cloisters of this venerable pile. It was near sunset by the time we had reached it. The heron from the lake was rustling and croaking among the branches of the trees, where it builds its nest. At the right hand of the tottering arch, forming the principal entrance, is a mass of human bones, which at one time reached to the second story of the building; and the heap of rubbish is scarcely less at present. The skulls are by dozens, not to say by hundreds, so arranged as to stare the visitant full in the face. At every step, we stumbled over fragments of coffins, which strew the apartments of the ruin. Such a horrid scene appeared to us highly indecorous. The relics of the dead might at least be collected, and decently covered.

This abbey was a friary, founded in the sixth or seventh century, and has ever since been a cemetery, for which purpose it is still used. So strong is the attachment to the consecrated ground, as a place for depositing the dead, that the whole surrounding country flock to it; and persons are sometimes brought from Cork to be here interred. The O'Donohoe family have a tomb in a conspicuous part of the shattered building, around which are grouped the graves of the principal chieftains, renowned in war, or eminent for piety. We penetrated every cloister, climbed the dark flights of steps, and read many of the inscriptions, some of which are very ancient. In the centre of the ruin, is a yew tree, said to be three hundred years old. Its trunk is a foot and a half in diameter, and its branches fill one of the apartments, rising to the top of the building and hanging over the walls. Each of us plucked a twig, as a slight memorial of the scene. By the time our survey of the abbey was completed, the boat arrived, and took us across the lake and among

the islands to Ross Castle, where we landed and returned to the hotel at 10 o'clock in the evening, fatigued but highly gratified with the numerous adventures of the day.

It was our intention to climb some of the peaks, if the weather would permit, and there should be a probability of obtaining a favourable view. Mangerton is the easiest of ascent, and offers perhaps the most attractions. The prospect from the summit is said to be both wide and grand. On the top is an oval and unfathomable lake, a mile in circumference, called the "Devil's Punch Bowl," around which the celebrated Charles James Fox once swam-a feat which is here accounted scarcely less arduous than that of Lord Byron in swimming the Hellespont, as the water is very cold, and the shore in some places rugged. As the clouds still continued to hang round the brow of the mountains, though the sky below was clear and bright, the excursion to Mangerton was abandoned; and at 5 o'clock on the afternoon of the 7th, we took the post coach for Tralee, which we reached about sunset. The road is excellent; and the country on either side, for the greater part of the way, rich and well cultivated. From several turns and eminences, the hills of Killarney, and those still farther to the north-west, about Castlemain, were in full view, mingling their blue summits with the skies.

Among the passengers in the coach was an intelligent and literary lady, an enthusiastic admirer of Goldsmith and Cowper, and strongly prejudiced against Byron and Moore. Her animated flow of conversation and the local information she imparted, contributed in no small degree to the pleasures of the ride. She had resided many years in the village of Killarney, and was familiar with the scenery, the state of society, and the traditions about the lakes. Several interesting anecdotes of the family of O'Donohoe were related by her. The last of the line, whom she recollected, was a princely looking man, but so ignorant that he could barely write his name. By indulging too freely in the pleasures of the chase and the rites of hospitality, he ruined his fortune. His purse was replenished and his estate redeemed, by marrying with the daughter of a wealthy merchant, which was, however, regarded as a degradation of character, although his lady was an accomplished woman. As an instance of his humanity and gallantry, it was stated that one day in a stag-hunt, a doe was driven from the hills into the lake. On approaching the poor animal, the big tears were seen to roll from her eyes. O'Donohoe took his handkerchief from his pocket, bound it around her head, and treating the captive kindly, presented her to Lady Kenmare,