The same afternoon we went by sailing to Killarney, in the South of Ireland.

We had now reached the northern coast of the island and were in sight of the far-famed Giant’s Causeway. A few miles of jaunting oar brought us to the spot. But we paused mid-way to bury the grand old ruins of Dunluce Castle, perched on the edge of a cliff hundreds of feet above the sea. It is impossible to give an adequate description of the Giant’s Causeway, familiar from childhood pictures which utterly fail to delineate it. It is a magnificent affair, however, wonderfully bold and unique in its configurations, embracing deep caves, bridge like abutments, high bluffs and perpendicular columns of basalt and trap.
In our journey through Ireland we noticed not only ruined castles, but magnificent Round Towers, some of them a hundred and fifty – feet high, and in a good state of preservation. They commonly stand alone, and their origin and object appear to be wrapped in mystery.
There is a marked distinction between Ireland and Scotland. They are different in their scenery, different in the characteristics of the people. Indeed one is struck with the perceptible change in various respects, as he travels from the centre to the North of Ireland. The cabins of the people grow better, their language is more Scottish, the accent broader, and they look better and thriftier in every way. This change is owing to the more general prevalence of Protestantism in the North.
We had a fine trip by steamer from Postwich to Oban on the