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which seems here extensive, and would make a noble tract of meadow. The way the road was made over it was simply to cut a drain on each side, and then lay on the gravel, which, as fast as it was laid and spread, bore the cars: along the edges is fine white clover.

In conversation upon the subject of a union with Great Britain, I was informed that nothing was so unpopular in Ireland as such an idea; and that the great objection to it was increasing the number of absentees. When it was in agitation, twenty peers and sixty commoners were talked of to sit in the British parliament, which would be the resident of eighty of the best estates in Ireland. Going every year to England would, by degrees, make them residents; they would educate their children there, and in time become mere absentees: becoming so they would be unpopular, others would be elected, who, treading in the same steps, would yield the place still to others; and thus, by dègrees, a vast portion of the kingdom now resident would be made absentees; which would, they think, be so great a drain to Ireland, that a free trade would not repay it.

I think the idea is erroneous, were it only for one circumstance, the kingdom would lose, according to this reasoning, an idle race of country gentlemen, and in exchange their ports would fill with ships and commerce, and all the consequences of commerce; an exchange that never yet proved disadvantageous to any country.

Viewed Mount Juliet, lord Carrick's seat, which is beautifully situated on a fine declivity on the banks of the Nore, commanding some extensive plantations that spread over the hills, which rise in a various manner on the other side of the river: a knole of lawn rises among them with artificial ruins upon it, but the situation is not in unison with the idea of a ruin, very rarely placed to effect, unless in retired and melancholy spots.

The river is a very fine one, and has a good accompaniment of well grown wood. From the cottage a more varied scene is viewed, cheering and pleasing; and from the tent in the farther plantation a yet gayer one, which looks down on several bends of the river.

July 11, left Kilfaine: Mr. Bushe accompanied me to Woodstock, the seat of Sir W. Fownes. From Thomastown hither is the finest ride I have yet had in Ireland. The road leaving Thomastown leads on the east side of the river, through some beautiful copse woods, which before they were cut must have had a most noble effect, with the river Nore winding at the bottom; the country then opens somewhat, and you pass most of the way for six or seven miles to Innisteague, on a declivity shelving down to the river, which takes a varied winding course, sometimes lively, breaking over a rocky bottom, at others still and deep under the gloom of some fine woods, which hang down the sides of steep hills. Narrow slips of meadow of a beautiful verdure in some places form the shore, and unite with cultivated fields that spread over the adjoining hills, reaching almost the mountain tops: these are large and bold, and give in general to the scenes features of great magnificence. Passed Sir John Hasler's on the opposite side of the river, finely situated, and Mr. Nicholson's farm on this side, who has very extensive copses which line the river. Coming in sight of Sir W. Fownes's, the scenery is striking, the road mounts the side of the hill, and commands the river at the bottom of the declivity, with groupes of trees prettily scattered about, and the little borough of Innesteague in a most picturesque situation, the whole bounded by mountains. Cross the bridge, and going through the town, take a path that leads to a small building in the woods, called Mount Sandford; it is at the top of a rocky declivity almost perpendicular, but with brush-wood growing from the rocks. At the bottom is the river, which comes from the right from behind a very bold hanging wood, that seems to unite with the hill on the opposite shore: at this pass the river fills the vale, but it widens by degrees, and presents various reaches, intermixed with little tufts of trees, the bridge we passed over is half hid. Innisteague is mixed with them, and its buildings backed by a larger wood, give variety to the scene. Opposite to the point of view there are some pretty inclosures, fringed with wood, and a line of cultivated mountain sides, with their bare tops limit the whole.

Taking my leave of Mr. Bushe, I followed the road to Ross. Passed Woodstock, of which there is a very fine view from the top of one of the hills, the house in the centre of a sloping wood of five hundred English acres, and hanging in one noble shade to the river, which flows at the bottom of a winding glen. From the same hill in front it is seen in a winding course for many miles through a great extent of inclosures, bounded by mountains. As I advanced the views of the river Nore were very fine, till I came to Ross, where from the hill before you go down to the ferry is a noble scene of the Barrow, a vast river flowing through bold shores, in some places trees on the bank half obscure it, in others it opens in large reaches, the effect equally grand and beautiful. Ships sailing up to the town, which is built on the side of a hill to the water's edge, enliven the scene not a little. The water is very deep and the navigation secure, so that ships of seven hundred tons may come up to the town; but these noble harbours on the coast of Ireland are only melancholy capabilities of commerce: it is languid and triffing. There are only four or five brigs and sloops that belong to the place.

Having now passed through a considerable extent of country, in which the white boys were common, and committed many outrages, I shall here review the intelligence I received concerning them throughout the county of Kilkenny. I made many inquiries into the origin of those disturbances, and found that no such thing as a leveller or white boy was heard of till 1760, which was long after the landing of Thurot, or the intended expedition of M. Conflans. That no foreign coin was ever seen among them, though reports to the contrary were circulated; and in all the evidence that was taken during ten or or twelve years, in which time there appeared a variety of informers, none was ever taken, whose testimony could be relied on, that ever proved any foreign interposition. Those very few who attempted to favour it, were of the most infamous and perjured characters. All the rest whose interest it was to make the discovery, if they had known it, and who concealed nothing else, pretended to no such knowledge. No foreign money appeared, no arms of foreign construction, no presumptive proof whatever of such a connection. They began in Tipperary, and were owing to some inclosures of commons, which they threw down, levelling the ditches, and were first known by the name of levellers. After that, they begun with the tytheproctors (who are men that hire tythes of the rectors) and these proctors either screwed the cottars up to the utmost shilling, or re-let the tythes to such as did it. It was a common practice with them to go in parties about the country, swearing many to be true to them, and forcing them to join by menaces, which they very often carried into execution. At last, they set up to be general redressers of grievances, punished all obnoxious persons who advanced the value of lands, or hired farms over their heads; and, having taken the administration of justice into their hands, were not very exact in the distribution of it. Forced masters to release their apprentices, carried off the daughters of rich farmers, ravished them into marriages, of which four instances happened in a fortnight. They levied sums of money on the middling and lower farmers in order to support their cause, by paying attornies, &c. in defending prosecutions against them; and many of them subsisted for some years without work, supported by these contributions. Sometimes they committed several considerable robberies, breaking into houses and taking the money, under pretence of redressing grievances. In the course of these outrages they burnt several houses, and destroyed the whole substance of men obnoxious to them. The barbarities they committed were shocking. One of their usual punishments (and by no means the most severe) was taking people out of their beds, carrying them naked in winter on horse-back for some distance, and burying them up to their chin in a hole filled with briars, not forgetting to cut off their ears. In this manner the evil existed for eight or ten years, during which time the gentlemen of the country took some measures to quell them. Many of the magistrates were active in apprehending them; but the want of evidence prevented punishments for many of those who even suffered by them had no spirit to prosecute. The gentlemen of the country had frequent expeditions to discover them in arms; but their intelligence was so uncommonly good by their influence over the common people, that not one party that ever went out in quest of them was successful. Government offered large rewards for informations, which brought a few every year to the gallows, without any radical cure for the evil. The reason why it was not more effective was the necessity of any person that gave evidence against them quitting their houses and country, or remaining exposed to their resentment. At last their violence arose to a height which brought on their suppression. The popish inhabitants of Ballyragget, six miles from Kilkenny, were the first of the lower people who dared openly to associate against them; they threatened destruction to the town, gave notice that they would attack it, were as good as their word, came two hundred strong, drew up before a house in which were fifteen armed men, and fired in at the windows; the fifteen men handled their arms so well, that in a few rounds they killed forty or fifty. They fled immediately, and ever after left Ballyragget in peace; indeed they have never been resisted at all without shewing a great want of both spirit and discipline. It should however be observed, that they had but very few arms, those in bad order, and no cartridges. Soon after this they attacked the house of Mr. Power in Tipperary, the history of which is well known. His murder spirited up the gentlemen to exert themselves in suppressing the evil, especially in raising subscriptions to give private rewards to whoever would give evidence or information concerning them. The private distribution had much more effect than larger sums which required a public declaration; and government giving rewards to those who resisted them, without having previously promised it, had likewise some effect. Laws were passed for punishing all who assembled, and (what may have a great effect) for recompensing, at the expence of the county or barony, all persons who suffered by their outrages. In consequence of this general exertion, above twenty were capitally convicted, and most of them executed; and the jails of this and the three neighbouring counties, Carlow, Tipperary, and Queen's-county, have many in them whose trials are put off till next assizes, and against whom sufficient evidence for conviction, it is supposed, will appear. Since this all has been quiet, and no outrages have been committed: but before I quit the subject, it is proper to remark that what coincided very much to abate the evil, was the fall in the price of lands, which has taken place lately. This is considerable, and has much lessened the evil of hiring farms over the heads of one another; perhaps also the tythe-proctors have not been quite so severe in their extortions: but this observation is by no means general; for in many places tythes yet continue to be levied, with all those circumstances which originally raised the evil.

July 15th, leaving Courtown, took the Arklow road; passed a finely wooded park of Mr. Rams, and a various country with some good corn in it. Flat lands by the coast let very high, and mountain at six shillings or seven shillings an acre, and some at eight shillings, or ten shillings. Passed to Wicklow, prettily situated on the sea, and

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from Newrybridge walked to see Mr. Tye's, which is a neat farm well wooded, with a river running through the fields.

Reached in the evening Mount Kennedy, the seat of general Cunninghame, who fortunately proved to me an instructor as assiduous as he is able. He is in the midst of a country almost his own, for he has 10,000 Irish acres here. His domain, and the grounds about it, are very beautiful, not a level can be seen; every spot is tossed about in a variety of hill and dale. In the middle of the lawn is one of the greatest natural curiosities in the kingdom; an immense arbutus tree unfortunately blown down, but yet vegetating, one branch, which parts from the body near the ground, and afterwards into many large branches, is six feet two inches in circumference. The general buried part of the stem as it laid, and it is from several branches throwing out fine young shoots: it is a most venerable remnant. Killarney, the region of the arbutus, boasts of no such tree as this.

July 16th, rode in the morning to Drum; a large extent of mountains and wood, on the general's estate. It is a very noble scenery; a vast rocky glen; one side bare rocks to an immense height, hanging in a thousand whimsical, yet frightful forms, with vast fragments tumbled from them, and lying in romantic confusion; the other a fine mountain side covered with shrubby wood. This wild pass leads to the bottom of an amphitheatre of mountain, which exhibits a very noble scenery. To the right is an immense sweep of mountain completely wooded; taken as a single object it is a most magnificent one, but its forms are picturesque in the highest degree; great projections of hill, with glens behind all wooded, have a noble effect. Every feature of the whole view is great, and unites to form a scene of natural magnificence. From hence a riding is cut through the hanging wood, which rises to a central spot, where the general has cleared away the rubbish from under the wood, and made a beautiful waving lawn with many oaks and hollies scattered about it; here he has built a cottage, a pretty whimsical oval room, from the windows of which are three views, one of distant rich lands opening to the sea, one upon a great mountain, and a third upon a part of the lawn. It is well placed, and forms upon the whole a most agreeable retreat.

July 17th. Took my leave of general Cunninghame, and went through the glen of the downs in my way to Powerscourt. The glen is a pass between two vast ridges of mountains covered with wood, which have a very noble effect, the vale is no wider than to admit the road, a small gurgling river almost by its side, and narrow slips of rocky and shrubby ground which parts them: in the front all escape seems denied by an immense conical mountain which rises out of the glen, and seems to fill it up. The scenery is of a most magnificent character. On the top of the ridge to the right Mr. La Touche has a banqueting room. Passing from this sublime scene, the road leads through cheerful grounds all under corn, rising and falling to the eye, and then to a vale of charming verdure broken into inclosures, and bounded by two rocky mountains, distant darker mountains filling up the scene in front: this whole ride is interesting, for within a mile and a half of Tinnyhinch (the inn to which I was directed) you come to a delicious view on the right, a small vale opening to the sea, bounded by mountains, whose dark shade forms a perfect contrast to the extreme beauty and lively verdure of the lower scene, consisting of gently swelling lawns rising from each other with groups of trees between, and the whole so prettily scattered with white farms, as to add every idea of cheerfulness. Kept on towards Powerscourt, which presently came in view from the edge of a declivity. You look full upon the house, which appears to be in the most beautiful situation in the world, on the side of a mountain, half way between its bare top, and an irriguous vale at its foot. In front and spreading among woods on either side, is a lawn whose surface is beautifully varied in gentle declivities, hanging to a winding river.

Lowering the hill the scenery is yet more agreeable, the near inclosures are margined with trees, through whose open branches are seen whole fields of the most lively verdure. The trees gather into groups, and the lawn swells into gentle inequalities, while the river winding beneath renders the whole truly pleasing.

Breakfasted at the inn at Tinnyhinch, and then drove to the park to see the water-fall. The park itself is fine; you enter it between two vast masses of mountain, covered with wood, forming a vale scattered with trees, through which flows a river on a broken rocky channel: you follow this vale till it is lost in a most uncommon manner, the ridges of mountain closing, form one great amphitheatre of wood, from the top of which, at the height of many hundred feet, bursts the water from a rock, and tumbling down the side of a very large one, forms a scene singularly beautiful. At the bottom is a spot of velvet turf, from which rises a clump of oaks, and through their stems, branches and leaves, the falling water is seen as a back ground, with an effect more pic. turesque than can be well imagined; these few trees, and this little lawn, give the finish. ing to the scene. The water falls behind some large fragments of rock, and turns to the left, down a stony channel, under the shade of a wood.

Returning to Tinnyhinch, I went to Inniskerry, and gained by this detour in my return to go to the Dargle, a beautiful view which I should otherwise have lost; the road runs on the edge of a declivity, from whence there is a most pleasing prospect of the river's course through the vale, and the wood of Powerscourt, which here appear in large masses of dark shade, the whole bounded by mountains. Turn to the left into the private road that leads to the Dargle, and presently gives a specimen of what is to be expected by a romantic glen of wood, where the high lands almost lock into each other, and leave scarce a passage for the river at bottom, which rages, as if with difficulty forc. ing its way. It is topped by a high mountain, and in front you catch a beautiful plat of inclosures bounded by the sea. Enter the Dargle, which is the name of a glen near a mile long. Come presently to one of the finest ranges of wood I have any where seen : it is a narrow glen or vale formed by the sides of two opposite mountains; the whole thickly spread with oak wood, at the bottom (and the depth is immense) it is narrowed to the mere channel of the river, which rather tumbles from rock to rock than runs. The extent of wood that hangs to the eye in every direction is great, the depth of the precipice on which you stand immense, which with the roar of the water at bottom forms a scene truly interesting. In less than a quarter of a mile, the road passing through the wood leads to another point of view to the right. It is the crown of a vast projecting rock, from which you look down a precipice absolutely perpendicular, and many hundred feet deep upon the torrent at the bottom, which finds its noisy way over large fragments of rock. The point of view is a great projection of the mountain on this side, answered by a concave of the opposite, so that you command the glen both to the right and left : it exhibits on both, immense sheets of forest, which have a most magnificent appearance. Beyond the wood, to the right, are some inclosures hanging on the side of a hill, crowned by a mountain. I knew not how to leave so interesting a spot, the impressions raised by it are strong. The solemnity of such an extent of wood unbroken by any intervening objects, and the whole hanging over declivities is alone great; but to this the addition of a constant roar of falling water, either quite hid, or so far below as to be seen but obscurely united to make those impressions stronger. No contradictory emotions are raised; no ill judged temples appear to enliven a scene that is gloomy rather than gay. Falling or moving water is a lively object; but this being

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