way. Some eight miles farther north towards Ballycastle, there is a stupendous high cliff against which the ocean beats, and some hundred feet distant in the sea, is an island cliff of equal height, called "Carrick-a-ride." Between these two cliffs extends a ladder of ropes, with a plank two feet wide upon them; and across this narrow bridge the fishermen run with their baskets of salmon on their backs, which are caught in abundance on this little sea-girt isle. It made the head dizzy to gaze into the depth below, and beneath we heard the breaker's sullen roar, holding by each other's hands through involuntary fear. And if you could have seen our escort to this bridge, your sides would have ached with laughter. As we passed through the village in our car all the ragamuffians of the place turned out, and began calling, "a scramble for half-pence, bonny gen. tlemen"-and when we threw them one after another, there was a scramble indeed. Such tatterdemalions, I am sure,

As they ran

can no where be seen except in Ireland. along, their rags fluttered in the wind, each seemed bidding good day to the other, as if not sure which part would take its leave first. One old man who headed the escort, (twentythree in number,) wore a coat that would have been a curiosity in any of our museums-it was literally, as I told you, this letter should be, a thing of "shreds and patches," a hundred at the least. It was curious to see them run by the side of the cars for a six-pence. One girl, about twelve years old, ran some five miles, and kept even with us up hill and down, though the horse was at his full trotting speed, and she had coursed the same ground with another party that day. I don't know where you would find man, woman, or child, in our country, to do the same for a six-pence. The dirt and filth of their low thatched huts exceed all belief. Pigs, chickens, and children mix promiscuously inside and

FACE OF THE COUNTRY.

37

out-a child with a clean face would have been a curiosity -a marvel in the neighborhood. But enough of this.

For miles after leaving the Causeway, all the stone for fences and building are of the balsatic rock, and as far south as Belfast, one hundred miles distant, there is a high cliff by the road side, with perpendicular columns of rock some sixty feet high. The road from the Causeway to Belfast is most excellent, and the ride one of exceeding beauty and interest. It leads the whole distance, following the indentations of the land, close upon the margin of the ocean. For fifty miles or more, travelling from the Causeway towards Belfast, there is not a tree nor a bush that a snake could hide in, save the hawthorn hedges which divide the fields; and yet in the peat bogs in this country, you may distinctly see decayed trunks of trees, and stumps, with fibres of the roots. The peat seems expressly calculated by Providence to supply the deficiency of other fuel here, where they have neither wood nor coal. Though ordinarily we had seen the peat to smoke and smoulder away, rather than burn on the cottage fire-place, on arriving at Ballycastle, after a long cold ride, we found a blazing fire of it in the the parlor quite delightful. I will now conclude.

ROUTE-MENAI BRIDGE-COAL MINES-OXFORD-LONDONGRAND REVIEW - PARKS - OPERA-TOWER - DOCKSTHAMES TUNNEL-WINDSOR PALACE-WESTMINSTER ABBEY-MADAME TUSSAUD'S EXHIBITION-FOUNDLING HOS

PITAL.

London, July.

My dear J———————, I am now in this great mart of the world, London-this modern Babylon of which Whittington says, "where all the streets are paved with gold, and all the maidens pretty," which lastI believe is generally acknowledged to be true, and as we are willing to accede to the truth that "all is not gold that glitters," so I think will those who go through the streets of this vast metropolis truly exclaim, there is a great deal of gold that makes no shine. But before I go on to describe to you the wonders that I see on every side, and as this ends our tour through Great Britain, and will be our starting point for the continent, I propose now to give you a list of the principal places through which we have passed, and the principal objects visited. This is the more necessary, as in writing my letters to you and to B. alternately, I have given you no account of things described in my letters to friends there, and it will also enable you to follow us more closely and correctly as far as we have now travelled. We landed at Liverpool, Tuesday, June 20th. We passed one day in visiting Chester and Eaton Hall, which I have described to you. We left Liverpool, Thursday, at seven, P. M., and reached Manchester about ten in the evening. We

visited the Cathedral, and all the public buildings of note; left there by railroad, for York. At York we visited the Cathedral, Museum, Castle, the ruins of St. Mary's' Abbey, and walked round the city walls. From York to Durham by railroad. This I have described to you. We left the next day about six, and rode fourteen miles to Newcastle, where we remained the night and day attending the races; from there we started by coach, visiting Jedburgh, Dryburgh, Melrose Abbey and Abbotsford, remaining here one night, and the next day arrived at Edinburgh, where we remained a week. I gave you some account of this, too. We left Edinburgh, sailing up the Forth to Stirling. Left this about one, A. M., after visiting the Castle, and walking about the town, and reached the inn at the Trossacks about seven, P. M. The next we sailed across Loch Katrine, and down Loch Lomond to Balloch, thence to Dumbarton, and up the Clyde to Glasgow, there remaining three days; left in a steamer at nine, P. M., and landed at Porte Rush, on the north coast of Ireland, eleven, A. M. Here we breakfasted, and then took a jaunting-car to the Giant's Causeway, where we rambled about, and then journeyed on to Ballycastle, stopping to see the Bridge at Carrick-a-ride.

Thence in a jaunting-car, passing through Cushingdale, Glenden, Glenarm, Larme, and some other places, to Belfast; left here by coach, passed through the old town of Swords and Drogheda, and found ourselves at Dublin.

And thence across the Channel to Holyhead, took dinner and proceeded on to Bangor, reaching this in time to visit the celebrated suspension bridge over the Menai Straits, connecting the Isle of Anglesea with North Wales.

Thence through a most beautiful country, diversified by mountains and valleys, passing the beautiful "Vale of Llangolyn" and by Snowden, the highest mountain in Wales, near four thousand feet high, and after a ride of one hundred and

thirty-five miles, to Birmingham. For many miles before reaching Birmingham, you pass over immense mines of iron and coal, and the pipes of the iron-works are pouring forth volumes of flame and smoke, lighting up all the country around, and turning darkness into day. In some places they are mining under the road, and as the coach passed over the ground there was a noise like distant thunder, and in the town we saw some of the houses bound round with iron chains to keep them from tumbling down, as they were mining underneath even here. We left Birmingham, and rode twenty miles to Warwick.

We visited Leamington, one of the fashionable wateringplaces of England, two miles distant, then to Warwick Castle, in the town of Warwick, where, beside the magnificent remains of feudal and baronial times, we saw the celebrated Warwick vase and the porridge pot, armour and other relics of "Guy of Warwick." Then to the ruins of Kenilworth Castle, five miles distant, and on our return visited "Guy's Cliff," the seat of the Hon. Bertie Percy, and where we were shown the well or spring of Guy of Warwick, and the cell in which he died, and where he lived as a hermit for many years. Over the spring is a stone, placed there by order of Henry II. Leaving Warwick, we rode twentyeight miles to Stratford-upon-Avon, in time to visit the room in which Shakspeare was born. The house in which he died has been pulled down. Next morning we visited the church in which himself and wife are buried, and then went to take another look at his birth-place. On our way to Stratford we passed the park and mansion of Sir Thomas Lucy, where the poet was tried for deer-shooting. We left Stratford and were at Oxford at three, P. M.; visited three of the colleges, of which there are no less than twenty-four immensely large ones, each covering as much or more ground than Yale at New-Haven. We visited the Bodleian