IRISH INSECT-HUNTER. 157 



as a promenade and pleasure-ground to the inhabitants and 

 visitors of Westport. The gates of the park terminate the 

 principal street ; you ring and enter. There are, perhaps, 

 finer domains in England, — one or two; but " The Domain" 

 is every thing to the inhabitants of Westport, and they seem 

 most fully to appreciate it. A long winding drive conducts 

 you over a bridge before the house, which is a plain structure 

 without pretensions, at this time under repair, in consequence 

 of the shortly-expected return home of the noble owner. You 

 can diverge at various points into more private walks. The 

 timber in the park is some of the finest to be met with any 

 where in Ireland. At the western extremity you come upon 

 water, defended by a low wall. The water is partly out: 

 there is a tide-mark ; there is sea-weed ; there is shipping at 

 a little distance ; you can no longer doubt, — it is the shore of 

 the Atlantic on which you are standing, an estuary of which 

 comes up here, and forms the boundary of his Lordship's do- 

 main. Turn a little, cross that bridge, and the blue expanse 

 of an ornamental fresh-water lake meets the eye. There are 

 long drives and fine avenues at every point. After exploring 

 some of these we took a more private walk along the bank of 

 the stream that feeds the lake. It was one of those pellucid 

 streams that reveal their unequal depth, in which every pebble 

 may be counted ; and the poor frighted fish, unused to the 

 sight of a stranger, try in vain to conceal themselves. At a 

 little distance it is drawn into silver sheen by a gentle ledge of 

 rock, which just allows -the water to slide down with a soft 

 murmur, without disturbing its translucency. But what is 

 that object peering over-head from behind the mass of foliage, 

 and looking down upon you like a giant? It is the pointed 

 summit of the Reek, so near and so lofty that it seems as it 

 were to take the arch of the sky, and almost bend over you. 

 Its base is hidden, and its real bulk disguised, by the depth 

 and breadth of the impenetrable mass of foliage from the midst 

 of which it appears to spring, like an enormous ornamental 

 pyramid, scarcely out of keeping with the height and vastness 

 of the intercepting forest. Clear of intervening objects, and it 

 occupies one-third of the horizon. On a little elevation, in a 

 sequestered part of the grounds, stands the Protestant churchy 

 quiet and unpretending. We met several parties, and many 

 well-dressed promenaders of both sexes, in the park. Others 



