A LITTLE TOUR IN IRELAND

By S. Reynolds Hole

An Oxonian

(Dean Of Rochester)

With Illustrations By JOHN LEECH

"By suffering worn and weary,
But beautiful as some fair angel yet."

1892

TO THE MEMORY OF JOHN LEECH

A TRUE ARTIST
A TRUE FRIEND AND A TRUE GENTLEMAN
THIS BOOK
WHICH HE MADE A SUCCESS

IS DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR

S. REYNOLDS HOLE

PREFACE.

I have been so often and persuasively asked to republish A Little Tour in Ireland, which I wrote as "an Oxonian," many years ago, at the request of my beloved friend and companion, John Leech, and of which only one edition has been issued, and that long since exhausted; I have been so severely upbraided for "keeping his splendid illustrations locked up in a box, and raising the price of the few copies which come into the market, to thrice the original cost;" I have been so fully certified, not only by hearsay but by my own eyes, that there is little or no perceptible change in the scenes, which he drew and I described; and my apprehension, that the style in which the book is written might be denounced as unbecoming, has been so completely expelled by the amused remonstrance of my friends, who insist that gaiety becomes an undergraduate as much as gaiters a Dean;—that I can make no further resistance, and only ask that the failings of the author may be condoned by the talent of the artist.

S. Reynolds Hole.

The Deanery,

Rochester: 1892.

CONTENTS

PREFACE.

CHAPTER I. PREFATORY.

CHAPTER II. TO DUBLIN.

CHAPTER III. DUBLIN.

CHAPTER IV. FROM DUBLIN TO GALWAY.

CHAPTER V. THE FAMINE.

CHAPTER VI. FROM GALWAY TO OUGHTERARDE.

CHAPTER VII. CONNAMARA.

CHAPTER VIII. CLIFDEN.

CHAPTER IX. KYLEMORE.

CHAPTER X. FROM KYLEMORE TO GALWAY.

CHAPTER XI. FROM GALLWAY TO LIMERICK

CHAPTER XII. LIMERICK

CHAPTER XIII. KILLARNEY.

CHAPTER XIV. KILLARNEY

CHAPTER XV. KILLARNEY.

CHAPTER XVI. FROM KILLARNEY TO GLENGARRIFF

CHAPTER XVII. GLENGARRIFF.

CHAPTER XVIII. GLENGARRIFF TO CORK

CHAPTER XIX. CORK

CHAPTER XX. BLARNEY

CHAPTER XXI. FROM DUBLIN HOMEWARD

CHAPTER I. PREFATORY.

THERE are two species of Undergraduates, the Fast and the Slow. I am now of the former persuasion. Originally, having promised my relations that I would take a Double First-Class and most of the principal prizes, I was associated with the latter brotherhood, but was soon compelled to secede, and to sue for a separation, a mensâ et thoro, their tea-table and early rising, on the plea of incompatibility of temper. One young gentleman, who described himself as being very elect indeed, candidly told me that, unless my sentiments with reference to bitter beer and tobacco underwent a material change, he could give me no hope of final happiness; and another impeccable party, with a black satin stock and the handiest legs in Oxford, felt himself solemnly constrained to mention, that he could not regard horse-exercise as at all consistent with a saving faith. I spoke of St. George (though I dared not say that I had met him at Astley's), of St. Denis, and St. Louis, of the Crusaders, and the Red Cross Knight; but he only replied that I was far gone in idolatry, and he lent me the biography of the Reverend T. P. Snorker, which, after describing that gentleman's conversion at a cock-fight, with the sweet experiences of his immaculate life, and instituting a comparison between his preaching and that of St. Paul (a trifle in favour of Snorker), finally declared him to be an angel, and bade all mankind adore, and reverence, and buy his sermons at seven-and-six. When I returned the publication, and told him that, though I had been highly entertained, I liked the Life of George Herbert better, he called