The letters I have as yet written, like a guide book, have been mostly filled with landmarks, finger-posts, and the statistics of the country. I will endeavor to have this upon a different plan, with desultory remarks upon the people of these parts their manners and customs—a thing of "shreds and patches." In my last from Newcastle-upon-the-Tyne, I asked you, (if I did not, I will,) to look at us seated in a small parlor of our inn, about as large as M's. bedroom, with a blazing coal fire, (for though the 25th of June, however warm with you, it was cold there, and I have had all my winter clothes in requisition ever since I left New York,) by which Mr. C. was seated in an arm-chair, reading a calender of the Newcastle races, that were to take place on the morrow; myself writing on the other side by the window, scribbling as fast as pen could go. And I invited you to make yourself at home, and take a seat at the tea-table with us; in which is comprised a good part of the comfort of an English inn. The tea and breakfast are about alike. You have always a server with the necessary china, a teacaddy, out of which a lady of the party makes the tea, with the aid of a copper tea-kettle on the hob of the grate, singing most merrily-a plate of muffins, hot and buttered-a plate of thin bread and butter—a stand of dry toast-as far north as this, a dish of orange marmalade, and at the end of

the table, one of cold roast beef. All these being placed on the table a right, the waiter retires, and you are left to enjoy your tea and your own society. If you want any thing more, a bell near, soon brings back the waiter. There, seated at the table, distributing the fragrant tea, I feel quite at home. I might now add to these comforts the splendor with which in the first part of our tour, our table was always graced. The china used here, is generally, very beautiful. The cups and saucers, plates, dishes, and egg-cups, are of the old fashioned parti-colored ware, in imitation of the Dresden. The urn, tea and coffee-pot, sugar dish, milk-pot, spoons and forks, castors and salt-cellars, are all of silver, generally beautifully chased.

In our bedroom we have always handsome curtains to bed and windows--the window drapery of moreen, and the falling curtain each side of white tamboured muslin. The bed upon which Mr. C. is now reading, is garnished with moreen curtains, sky-blue and white; the valence of the same, with a drapery at the top trimmed with handsome bullion fringe of blue, and a border of handsome curtain lace, of blue silk round the whole. The bedstead is a square high post, of beautiful mahogany, and the foot-board has a cushion nearly as thick as the board is high, covered with the same blue moreen. In the morning when the bed is made, the curtains. are drawn to the head of the bed, to display the white counterpane and pillows, the ends being placed in neat folds across them; at night when you retire, the clothes are turned down on either side, and curtains closely drawn, so that your slumbers may not be disturbed by the long twilight or the early dawn. Indeed, at this season of the year, they have scarce three hours' darkness.

The butter here is brought to market in rolls about the diameter of a Bologna suasage--a foot long—and then cut into little pats, and stamped in divers shapes, and placed in

a deep glass dish filled with water, and a cover placed over it. It looks very nice, and is always fresh, in one sense— it is never salted. The chambermaids in the inns, no matter how young, all wear caps, with such wide frill borders, that their faces are almost concealed. The ladies universally have their bonnets filled with flowers, at least a box of them on each side of the face.

Crossing the Cheviots, from Newcastle, the hills and mountains were covered with sheep, clothed with thick soft wool, looking beautifully white, except the tips of the legs, head and tail, which were jet black, giving them quite a grotesque appearance. Fifty thousand in a flock, we were told, was not an unusual thing. We saw many shepherds with their plaid scarfs and caps, crooks and dogs; and peat fields in great extent, with the turf cut up in squares, like brick, and piled in stacks to dry.

Ballycastle, North of Ireland, July.

It is now late, but before retiring, I must give you an account of what we have seen to-day, which, I think, will interest you. We left Glasgow in the evening at ten. You will remember that it is no darker here at ten than with you at half-past seven. We sat round the table in the cabin of the steamer Londonderry, and finished a quart of fine strawberries, and then betook ourselves to the berths, and were soon asleep, passing down the Clyde, and up the Irish Channel. We awoke early in the morning, finding ourselves in the Atlantic, on the north coast of Ireland, with a heavy swell, and very sea-sick. We landed, however, at ten, at Porte Rush, passing on the way the Giant's Causeway-the object of our visit here. The Giant's Causeway is some nine miles from Porte Rush.

For ten or twelve miles before our landing-place, the sea beats against a very high perpendicu

34

THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY.

lar cliff, formed of the same basaltic rocks as the Causeway, though the columns are not so distinctly marked; resembling much our palisades. There seemed to be a succession of little bays or recesses, like horse-shoes, with huge white chalk cliffs projecting out into the sea, standing almost by themselves, and forming a strong contrast to the black rocks in the rear. As we progressed, these projections seemed to take all manner of shapes-temples and thrones-sea-gods and all sorts of beings; and at short distances the yawning mouths of huge caverns presented themselves to view. At Porte Rush we took breakfast, and a jaunting car for the Causeway. These cars are very little larger than our hand-carts, and yet they are contrived to carry six-I can't say very comfortably. The seats run lengthwise of the car, over each wheel, and the passengers sit back to back, with their feet within a foot of the ground. A seat in front accommodates the driver, and this is the only means of conveyance, in rain or shine, for the North of Ireland. grand Causeway extends seven hundred feet in length along the shore, and three hundred in breadth. The parts of the columns visible, above ground, being from four to nine feet in height. There is one of which you see the whole length, with thirty-eight distinct joints or parts, fitting into each other, the one concave, the other convex. These columns vary in shape from triangular to nonagon or nine-sided, and yet are as regular, and fit each other more closely than if made by the square and rule of the mason. They show themselves in columns from one to nine feet, rising one above another; and there is a vast space, where you walk over the tops of them like a pavement, the surface being comparatively smooth, with the exception that the tops are either convex or concave. There is a tradition among the Irish, that a giant who dwelt in the cave of Staffa, formerly walked on this species of pavement, from Staffa in Scotland across

The

VISIT TO THE CAVE.

35 to Ireland, and back as he found occasion, and hence its name. And present appearances do indicate that once a line of similar formation of column, a rock did indeed extend across from Ireland to Scotland. You perceive the same identical pointed columns, we were told, on the opposite sides of a small island, midway between Staffa and the Causeway, extending into the sea, on one side in the direction of Staffa, and on the other towards the Causeway. And then again at Staffa, are found the same columns, extending into the sea in the direction of this little island. To our astonishment, a spring of very delightful water, which we drank from, called the Giant's well, was pointed out to us amid these columns, within a few paces of, and almost washed by the ocean.

There is also a number of caves extending far under the rocks near by, where the ocean washes in, and the breakers dash about most awfully. I think I never in my life felt so much awed as when inside of one of these immense ocean caves. The mouth is a perfect archway; the height of the arch being ninety feet, and the length, or rather depth of the cave, being six hundred and sixty-six feet. The entrance is extremely dangerous-the waves run very high, and dashing against the sides of the cave, created a white sea of foam within. Mr. R., of Philadelphia, observed, there was not one lady in a hundred would dare venture in that cave, and I assure you, I gave heartfelt thanks when I found myself safe out and on terra firma. We entered upon a billow, watching a favorable one, that in an instant swept us a hundred feet within the cave, and made our exit with the aid of a tremendous receding wave. The skill of the four Irish oarsmen fully equalled that of the gondoliers of Venice, and it was nothing but their tact and extraordinary presence of mind that brought us out safe from our perils.

We visited one other curiosity after leaving the Cause