young ladies, all of whom were delighted with the scenery and ruins. The thick walls, dark cells, secret passages, and deserted halls were new to us, and we were reminded by them that we were in a historic land. Among the curiosities, we were shown the world-renowned "Blarney Stone," which is placed on the top of one of the walls of the building, from whence it derives its name. Visitors usually touch it, and the wear it receives from the constant laying on of hands keeps it highly polished. The castle is said to be seven hundred and thirty years old, and was for a long period the residence of a distinguished Irish nobleman, or petty monarch, O'Something-I don't remember what-whose race and history have alike perished, leaving no other memorial than the walls of Blarney, and the legends connected with them. The estate contains about eighteen hundred acres, nearly all of which is under cultivation. Five hundred men are constantly employed upon it, at fair wages for Ireland; and they generally appear content with their lot. There are full as many cattle as men on the estate, and, from my own observations, they are better sheltered in stormy weather than the peasantry, and far better cared for. The stables in which they are kept are infinitely superior to the hedge cottages.

The attendants were exceedingly polite, and numerous. There was one to bow us through the delicious groves of Blarney, another to guide us through the castle, one to show us the stables, and one to accompany us back to the gate. A very attentive and obliging people they were, and their plan of subdividing labor was remarkable. But cannot one do all? thought I, and the answer came readily: "That won't do; each one of these has his post, and each expects, ay, demands, pay for thrusting himself into your service, and will get it. If there were but one, he would get a sixpence from each; but as there are four, each gets his fee, and you are the sufferer-they the gainers." And my reasoning was correct. "Be plased to remimber me, zur! I took ye till the castle," was the appeal of one, and the same came from the balance, with suitable modifications. We each paid eighteen-pence at the ruins, and thought we were released; but no, by no means. The coarse, vulgar slattern at the lodge had a claim "for standin' by the gate till yer honors returned;" but it was not allowed, and we received her pious benediction. Coaxing and flattery were tried at first, but they failed; and then she abused, as only the low and beastly can abuse. The word "Yankee" was frequent in the torrent of slime she bespattered us with, and the "likes o' ye jointlemen!" was the last expression of hers that reached our ears.

We rolled away towards Cork, over a splendid road, different from the one by which we left the city. The weather was warm, the atmosphere quivered with heat; but still the air was not very oppressive. The rapid motion of our car created a current, and kept us cool. The peasantry we met were a degraded race, and nearly all barefooted, and without energy, except to beg; and it surprised me that some of them mustered courage for that, when I considered their laziness. Two or three of the boys ran after our conveyances full five miles in expectation of securing a penny, and, poor wretches, they earned it..

The scenery by the return route was really beautiful. At one point of the turnpike, where there was a sudden turn, a splendid valley burst unexpectedly on our view, like a fairy scene. Around it arose an amphitheatre of hills, and through it meandered a gurgling stream, on whose banks waved the rich verdure of the Emerald Isle. An old castle, ivy-covered, crowned an eminence, and in the far distance peered up the spires of the city.

But few farm-houses, worthy of the name, met our sight. We saw one or two that had a neat appearance, as if they were the abodes of comfort; but they were all. The cottages, or huts, were numerous, and in some instances so small as to be scarcely seen, or distinguished from mud-banks. In the whole route, we saw but one solitary female with shoes on, among the peasantry, and she was a curiosity. The balance were barefooted and bareheaded; but, although the weather was quite warm, if either of them had an old cloak, no matter how ragged it was, she had it on. They looked worse than half-civilized Indians with us, by far, and were surely more degraded and brutalized. Their long, dark hair hung loosely over their shoulders, and their black eyes and brown complexions brought to my mind the gypsies of which we hear so much and see so little.

As we neared the city, we met throngs of poor on their way to witness a military review about to take place in honor of the Queen's birthday. It was probably a favorable time to observe the mendicant inhabitants of Cork, as on such occasions they generally turn out en masse. The number of beggars is beyond computation; but, as the population of the place is nearly one hundred and twenty thousand, it would not be far off the mark to set the alms-askers down at one-third that number, or forty thousand who are dependent mainly upon beggary for support in Cork only. To Americans who know nothing of the lower class of Irish in their native land, this may appear an exaggeration, but actual observation will confirm the statement. They are so numerous that it is impossible for a person to walk fifty yards in the city, during business hours, without meeting a score of them. The merchants and tradesmen are gentlemanly in their deportment, and take evident pleasure in showing kindness and hospitality to strangers; but when spoken to concerning the laboring poor and mendicants, exhibit but little sympathy for that class, and try to avoid allusion to them, and assert that the wretchedness and misery into which they have fallen are attributable to habits of indolence and crime. There appears to be a wall of adamant between the laborer and the respectable caste, and a hatred of each other as strong as ever existed between rival tribes of savages. The rich spurn and trample the poor, and the poor hate them in return for their pains.

The review was not on an extensive scale, about four thousand troops only being out. Among them we noticed a regiment of pensioners, or soldiers who by long service had become entitled to a discharge from the army, with a small annual allowance. Their number was about eight hundred; the most of them were Irish, and all appeared to be as fond of military display and showy uniforms as young recruits. A park of artillery bellowed forth its thunder furiously, and the rattle of small-arms, at one time, was continuous, giving the uninitiated a faint idea of the roar and turmoil of battle. Every regiment was attended by an excellent band, and the music was to us the most attractive feature of the display. What surprised us most was the variety of uniforms, each regiment having a different dress, and only one of all wore the famous "red coats" so much despised by our patriotic forefathers.

While viewing the parade, we entered into conversation with several of the assembled spectators, who knew where we were from. They spoke of the condition of Ireland, particularly of the South, and, pointing to the troops as they filed off, their showy uniforms and glittering arms gleaming in the sun, said that "thousands of poor were starving around, and no aid furnished them by the government, while an army was sustained in their midst, at an enormous expense, to keep them in subjection. We have nearly eight thousand soldiers among us, in time of peace, whose sole duty is to keep us quiet, and hold us in awe." I thought the spectacle one worth a few remarks. Here was a standing army among an ignorant, brutalized, idle, and starving peasantry, maintained at an enormous expense to keep the race in submission, and not one penny expended to better its condition. The general appearance of the throng was similar to that of the laboring men we had seen in our morning's ride. Their clothing was rags, their conduct debased.

One of the first objects that attracted my attention in Cork was a small donkey, harnessed to a cart about the size of a wheelbarrow, followed by a barefooted woman, who was busily engaged in gathering up the filth and offal that she found in the street. Afterwards I observed the same thing frequently, and noticed girls and men gathering the dung of animals, with their hands, from the highways. Some of the females were among the ugliest creatures alive, and with dirty faces, mopped hair, and ragged garments, looked like so many "weird sisters." No one who has not seen the laboring poor and mendicant population of Ireland, on their own soil, can form a correct estimate of their wretchedness, or the degradation into which they are sunk. Suffering is the badge of their tribe, and idleness and crime results of their condition.

We remained in the city until Saturday afternoon, when our passengers returned to the ship. Every arrangement having been completed, the anchor was hove up, and by sunset the Lafayette was once more laying her course for the port of her destination. Forts Caroline and Camden were passed, and before the long summer twilight had faded out, we were again upon the ocean, and out of sight of miserable, sunken, and forlorn Ireland.

In the previous pages I have described what I saw in Ireland, and that in language suited to the subject. Some readers may condemn the tone, and deem it harsh; but the case warranted it, and I have no apology to make. Human misery never delighted me. My sympathies are with the poor and the downtrodden of the human race, no matter where they dwell, or what their country or complexion. A mere description of the wretchedness and misery of the poverty-stricken and crushed, as given by an observer, is not an evidence of ill feeling towards them on his part; nor must it be so considered. My sketch of the lower class of Irish, as I saw them, is correct, and I appeal to those who were with me for proof of the assertion. It is written to convey to American readers, as near as a pen and ink picture can, an idea of the actual condition of the Irish poor. We see much misery in the United States among the immigrants from the Emerald Isle; but we do not see Irish wretchedness in its worst form, and Heaven forbid we ever should! That people have been the subject of remark for years; their condition has been commented upon by friends and foes, each of whom assigns a reason for their degradation; but it must be confessed that few have sought to better their circumstances. Philanthropists have made attempts to alleviate their distress, but never succeeded to any great extent, for several reasons: one of which is that they have never yet laid the axe at the root of the evil. They merely apply the remedy to the surface, and fail to touch the seat of disease. Each set of philanthropists acts according to its views of the case, and as each views the Irish with a sectarian's eye, each effects nothing. I do not pretend to say that Catholicism either degrades or elevates the people of Ireland; but I do say that no reforms will ever be