LISMORE CASTLE.

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hundred men, defended themselves with remarkable bravery, and killed of the assailants above five times their own number,-was reduced to an honourable capitulation.

After this period, Lismore Castle was suffered to fall a victim to the destroying hand of the great spoiler, Time; the domestic offices only being kept in repair. By the present noble proprietor, however, this venerable castle has been restored to its original splendour; and is now one of the most imposing of the many ancient and noble buildings which attract the attention of the tourist in Ireland.

The principal entrance to the grounds of Lismore Castle, is peculiarly grand and venerable. Above the gate are the arms of the great Earl of Cork, whose remarkable motto, "God's providence is my inheritance," is inscribed beneath the shield. Opposite to this gate, is an ornamental building, which was designed by the renowned architect, Inigo Jones. This building commands a view of a noble avenue, which, overhung by the spreading branches of a double row of stately trees, lies in long perspective before the eye of the spectator.

It is said of King James I., that being on one occasion entertained at dinner in the great room of Lismore Castle, and having approached, with the purpose of more fully enjoying the noble prospect, the bower-window which overhangs the river Blackwater, he started back in terror at the vast and unexpected depth which presented itself to his view. If it were so, the momentary start might have been pardoned even in a man of firmer nerves than fell to the lot of the son of the hapless Queen Mary; for the north front of the Castle of Lismore overhangs a deep abyss, resembling that which is commanded by Chepstow Castle, on the river Wye. In picturesque beauty, however, the scenery of Chepstow, exquisite as it is, must yield to that which is spread before the spectator who looks forth from the banqueting-room of Lismore Castle.

The Castle itself, viewed from the neighbouring bridge, presents an aspect which cannot fail to gratify the most romantic imagination. The broad and limpid Blackwater laves the base of a perpendicular cliff, whose front is clad with luxuriant foliage; and from whose summit the drooping branches of forest-trees are reflected in the still water; while here and there, jutting shelves of rock break the uniformity of colour which would otherwise be produced by the spreading foliage. On the summit of the rock, and rising above the noble trees which crown it, stands the Castle; its oriel window, and its embattled parapet towering above the verdant grove to a height which is calculated to suggest to the mind of the admiring spectator, a feeling akin

to terror.

The beautiful bridge which crosses the Blackwater, consists mainly of one arch, one hundred and nine feet in width; the smaller arches exhibited in the accompanying engraving, being merely supporters of a viaduct, and auxiliaries to the greater arch when the river is flooded. This bridge, which is a beautiful piece of architecture, was erected by the Duke of Devonshire, and is a noble monument of his taste and munificence.

Two names, both celebrated, though in very different ways, are indissolubly connected with the ancient castle of Lismore. Within its walls the great natural philo

sopher, Robert Boyle, and Congreve, the dramatic poet, first breathed the breath of life. The memory of Boyle, a man of genius, and a Christian philosopher, must always be associated with the woods and streams of Lismore. The river Blackwater

"Rolls mingling with his fame for ever."

"Still earth exults in that bright soul sublime,
Whose light hath pass'd not all with life away,
But shines unchanging o'er the mists of time,
And guides young Genius with benignant ray,
Through all the blighting storms that mar life's opening day.

"Immortal Spirits who have walk'd the world!
Bards, Sages, Patriots, born to bless mankind;
Still sweep ye o'er the world with wings unfurl'd,
To fan congenial bosoms, left behind,
Pouring the sunbeams of the Eternal mind

O'er breathing man rejoicing in your lore;

Till springs the soul, imprison'd, unconfined,

Through fields of light o'er earth's wide bounds to soar,

Where the vast universe unfolds her mighty store.

"Oh! let me oft, in evening's quiet hour,
A moment feel the fire such spirits shed!
Monarchs of nature, who alone have power
To send their deep-toned voices from the dead.
Still let me mingle with the great, the free,
Who teach my ardent soul to feel, to hear, to see!

"To feel the bliss that fair creation yields,

When light and beauty clothe the earth and sky;
To roam in joy through glens, and groves, and fields,
Or climb the mountain where the night-winds sigh;
Whate'er delights the heart, or charms the eye
Throughout the volume vast by God unroll'd,-
These are thy birthright, Genius; these thy high
Prerogatives. Count then thy boasted gold,

Son of the clay. Our stars are boundless and untold!"

"To lead the mind

Through nature up to nature's God,"

is a quotation rendered familiar by frequent repetition. It conveys, however, a just idea of the true and proper vocation and mission of the Christian philosopher. Genius is then, surely, applied to its highest purposes, when it is employed as the handmaid of Religion. It was thus employed by the eminent philosopher, the memory of whose learning and piety sheds a lustre on his noble house.

It were no violent stretch of fancy to imagine that the above beautiful lines from the pen of an Irish poet, were suggested by the remembrance of Robert Boyle in connection with the picturesque CASTLE of Lismore.