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 picturesque 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 forcing 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 to the right and left: it exhibits on both, immense sheets of forest, which have a most that you command the glen both 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 declivities over 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 iil judged temples appear to enliven a scene that is gloomy rather than gay. Falling or moving water is a lively object; but this being

of the opposite,

SO

obscure the noise operates differently. Following the road a little further, there is another bold rocky projection from which also there is a double view to the right and left. In front so immense a sweep of hanging wood, that a nobler scene can hardly be imagined: the river as before, at the bottom of the precipice, which is so steep and the depth so great, as to be quite fearful to look down. This horrid precipice, the pointed bleak mountains in view, with the roar of the water, all conspire to raise one great emotion of the sublime. You advance scarcely twenty yards before a pretty scene opens to the left, a distant landscape of inclosures, with a river winding between the hills to the sea. Passing to the right, fresh scenes of wood appear; half way to the bottom, one different from the preceding is seen; you are almost inclosed in wood, and look to the right through some low oaks on the opposite bank of wood, with an edging of trees through which the sky is seen, which added to an uncommon elegance in the out-line of the hill, has a most pleasing effect. Winding down to a thatched bench on a rocky point, you look upon an uncommon scene. Immediately beneath is a vast chasm in the rock, which seems torn asunder, to let the torrent through that comes tumbling over a rocky bed far sunk into a channel embosomed in wood. Above is a range of gloomy obscure woods, which half over-shadow it, and rising to a vast height, exclude every object. To the left the water rolls away over broken rocks: a scene truly romantic. Followed the path: it led me to the water's edge, at the bottom of the glen, where is a new scene, in which not a single circumstance hurts the principal character. In a hollow formed of rock and wood (every object excluded but those and water) the torrent breaks forth from fragments of rock, and tumbles through the chasm, rocks bulging over it, as if ready to fall into the channel, and stop the impetuous water. The shade is so thick as to exclude the heavens, all is retired and gloomy, a brown horror breathing over the whole. It is a spot for melancholy to muse in.

Return to the carriage, and quit the Dargle, which upon the whole is a very singular place, different from all I have seen in England, and I think preferable to most. Cross a murmuring stream clear as chrystal, and rising a hill, look back on a pleasing landscape of inclosures, which waving over hills, end in mountains of a very noble character. Reach Dublin.

July 20. To Drogheda, a well built town, active in trade, the Boyne bringing ships to it. It was market day, and I found the quantity of corn, &c. and the number of people assembled very great; few country markets in England more thronged. The Rev. Mr. Nesbeit, to whom recommended, absent, which was a great loss to me, as I had several inquiries which remained unsatisfied.

To the field of battle on the Boyne. The view of the scene from a rising ground which looks down upon it is exceedingly beautiful, being one of the completest landscapes I have seen. It is a vale, loosing itself in front between bold declivities, above which are some thick woods, and distant country. Through the vale the river winds and forms an island, the point of which is tufted with trees in the prettiest manner imaginable; on the other side a rich scenery of wood, among which is Doctor Norris's house. To the right on a rising ground on the banks of the river is the obelisk, backed by a very bold declivity; pursued the road till near it, quitted my chaise, and walked to the foot of it. It is founded on a rock which rises boldly from the river. It is a noble pillar and admirably placed. I seated myself on the opposite rock, and indulged the emotions which with a melancholy not unpleasing filled my bosom, while I reflected on the consequences that had sprung from the victory here obtained. Liberty was then triumphant. May the virtues of our posterity secure that prize which the bravery of their ancestors won! Peace to the memory of the prince to whom, whatever might be his failings we owed that day memorable in the annals of Europe!

Returned part of the way, and took the road to Cullen, where the lord chief baron Forster received me in the most obliging manner, and gave me a variety of informa. tion uncommonly valuable. He has made the greatest improvements I have any where met with. The whole country twenty-two years ago was a waste sheep walk, covered chiefly with heath, with some dwarf furze and fern. The cabins and people as miserable as can be conceived; not a protestant in the country, nor a road passable for a carriage. In a word, perfectly resembling other mountainous tracts, and the whole yielding a rent of not more than from three shillings to four shillings an acre. Mr. Forster could not bear so barren, a property, and determined to attempt the improvement of an estate of five thousand acres till then deemed irreclaimable. He encouraged the tenants by every species of persuasion and expence, but they had so ill an opinion of the land that he was forced to begin with two or three thousand acres in his own hands; he did not, however, turn out the people, but kept them in to see the effects of his operations.

To Dundalk, the view down on this town also very beautiful, swelling hills of a fine verdure, with many rich inclosures backed by a bold outline of mountain that is remarkable. Laid at the Clanbrassil Arms, and found it a very good inn. The place, like most of the Irish towns I have been in, full of new buildings, with every mark of increasing wealth and prosperity. A cambrick manufacture was established here by parliament, but failed; it was, however, the origin of that more to the north.

July 22. Left Dundalk, took the road through Ravensdale to Mr. Fortesque, to whom I had a letter, but unfortunately he was in the South of Ireland. Here I saw many good stone and slate houses, and some bleach greens; and I was much pleased to see the inclosures creeping high up the sides of the mountains stony as they are. Mr. Fortescue's situation is very romantic on the side of a mountain, with fine wood hanging on every side, with the lawn beautifully scattered with trees spreading into them, and a pretty river winding through the vale, beautiful in itself, but trebly so on information, that before he fixed there, it was all a wild waste. Rents in Ravensdale ten shillings, mountain land two shillings and six pence to five shillings. Also large tracts rented by villages, the cottars dividing it among themselves, and making the

mountain common for their cattle.

Breakfasted at Newry, the Globe, another good inn. This town appears exceedingly flourishing, and is very well built; yet forty years ago, I was told that there were nothing but mud cabins in it: this great rise has been much owing to the canal to LochNeagh. I crossed it twice, it is indeed a noble work. I was amazed to see ships of one hundred and fifty tons and more lying in it, like barges in an English canal. Here is

a considerable trade.

Reached Ardmagh in the evening, and waited on the primate. July 23. His grace rode out with me to Ardmagh, and shewed me some of the noble and spirited works by which he has perfectly changed the face of the neighbourhood. The buildings he has erected in seven years, one would suppose without previous information, to be the work of an active life. A list of them will justify this

observation.

He has erected a very elegant palace, ninety feet by sixty, and forty high, in which an unadorned simplicity reigns. It is light and pleasing, without the addition of wings or lesser parts, which too frequently wanting a sufficient uniformity with the body of the edifice, are unconnected with it in effect, and divide the attention. Large and ample offices are conveniently placed behind a plantation at a small distance: around the

palace is a large lawn, which spreads on every side over the hills, and skirted by young plantations, in one of which is a terrace, which commands a most beautiful view of cultivated hill and dale. The view from the palace is much improved by the barracks, the school, and a new church at a distance, all which are so placed as to be exceedingly ornamental to the whole country.

The barracks were erected under his grace's directions, and form a large and handsome edifice. The school is a building of considerable extent, and admirably adapted for the purpose: a more convenient or a better contrived one, is no where to be seen. There are apartments for a master, a school-room fifty-six feet by twenty-eight, a large dining room, and spacious airy dormitories, with every other necessary, and a spacious play-ground walled in; the whole forming a handsome front; and attention being paid to the residence of the master (the salary is four hundred pounds a year) the school flourishes, and must prove one of the greatest advantages to the country of any thing that could have been established. This edifice entirely at the primate's expence. The church is erected of white stone, and having a tall spire makes a very agreeable object, in a country where churches and spires do not abound, at least such as are worth looking at. Three other churches the primate has also built, and done considerable reparations to the cathedral.

He has been the means also of erecting a public infirmary, which was built by subscription, contributing amply to it himself.

A public library he has erected at his own expence, given a large collection of books, and endowed it. The room is excellently adapted, forty-five feet by twenty-five, and twenty high, with a gallery, and apartments for a librarian.

He has further ornamented the city with a market-house and shambles, and been the direct means, by giving leases upon that condition, of almost new building the whole place. He found it a nest of mud cabins, and he will leave it a well built city of stone and slate. I heard it asserted in common conversation, that his grace, in these noble undertakings, had not expended less than thirty thousand pounds besides what he had been the means of doing, though not directly at his own expence.

In the evening reached Mr. Brownlow's at Lurgan, to whom I am indebted for some valuable information. This gentleman has made very great improvements in his domain: he has a lake at the bottom of a slight vale, and around are three walks, at a distance from each other; the center one is the principal, and extends two miles. It is well conducted for leading to the most agreeable parts of the grounds, and for commanding views of Loch-Neagh, and the distant country; there are several buildings, a temple, green-house, &c. The most beautiful scene is from a bench on a gently swelling hill, which rises almost on every side from the water. The wood, the water, and the green slopes; here unite to form a very pleasing landscape. Let me observe one thing much to his honour; he advances his tenants money for all the lime they choose, and takes payment in eight years with rent.

Upon inquiring concerning the emigrations, I found that in 1772 and 1773, they were at the height; that some went from this neighbourhood with property, but not many. They were in general poor and unemployed. They find here, that when provisions are very cheap, the poor spend much of their time in whisky-houses. All the drapers wish that oatmeal was never under one penny a pound. Though farms are exceedingly divided, yet few of the people raise oatmeal enough to feed themselves; all go to market for some. The weavers earn by coarse linen one shilling a day, by fine one shilling and four pence, and it is the same with the spinners, the finer the yarn the more they earn; but in common a woman earns about three-pence. For coarse linens