Were I ever constrained to be a monk and celibate, I should wish my monastery to be at _lnnisfallen_, and I admire the taste of St. Finian (an ancestor, I presume, of Mr. Finn, our estimable host at the Victoria Hotel), who, some thirteen hundred years ago, selected this island for his retreat. The picturesque ruins of an ancient abbey still attest, that long after his time, men sought, in this sylvan solitude, that peace which they found not in the world.
Sweet _Innisfallen!_ “thy praise is hymned by loftier harps than mine,” so lofty indeed, that my obtuse understanding is unable to read some of their music, as, for instance, where Moore sings,
“The steadiest light the sun e'er threw Is lifeless to one gleam of thine.”
And, therefore, in plain prose, but with a full heart, Good night!
A car and guide, as per order, were waiting for us, when we had breakfasted next morning, and we set forth for the _Gap of Dunloe_. Entering upon the main road, we seemed to be in a drying-ground of immense proportions, with its perpetual posts and endless clothes-lines, extending along the wayside for miles. But it proved to be a continuation of that faithless messenger, the Atlantic telegraph, on its way between _Valencia_ and the rail. Passing the ruins of _Aghadoe_, church, castle, and tower, and shortly afterwards those of _Killaloe_, we cross the river _Latme_, over a charming old bridge, and get views of the great _Tomies Mountain_, and also of _Macgillicuddy's Reeks_. Miles, our guide, a most intelligent and civil one, here told us the story, or rather one of the stories, concerning the latter mountains.
It seems that Mr. Macgillicuddy, a gentleman of extensive estates in this neighbourhood, went to visit some friends in England, and took with him an Irish servant, more prone to patriotism than truth. Whatever he saw among the Saxons was just nothing at all, at all, to what might be seen in Ireland. In short, he would have been a most appropriate attendant upon that Hibernian, who, being asked why he wept at sight of Greenwich Hospital, replied with sorrowful emotion, “Ah, sure, the buildings there remind me of mee dear father's stables!”
Now it befel that the English gentleman, possessing a large extent of rich meadow land, took especial delight in his hay-stacks, and his valet, sympathising with his master's vanity (as all good valets should), soon led the Irishman to look at the stack-yard, expecting to see him mightily astonished; but Paddy, having gazed around with the most sublime indifference, coolly said, “It's a nice bit o' grass you've brought home here for present use; now let us have a peep at the ricks.”