40 A YEAR OF LIBERTY ; OR, 



Thanks to tlie rail, we are in Limerick. The new town has 

 nothing remarkably new about it, and the old town on King's Island 

 looks as dismal and dilapidated as if, since the days of Ptolemy, 

 Dane and Norman, Edward Bruce and Ireton, William and Ginkel, 

 had been battering at it all day long. Perhaps severe recent study 

 had soured my temper, for I had just finished a huge tome touching 

 the Shannon. The subject had there been considered in all its 

 branches ^historically, poetically, botanically, mythologically, tra- 

 ditionally, agriculturally, prophetically. It had been regarded as a 

 means of traffic and a means of salmon. Start not, reader ! If I 

 gained nothing else from the perusal, my own sufferings have at least 

 taught me tenderness and compassion towards others. This morning, 

 however, we feel so much better so much less bilious, in fact that 

 we are able to invite our friends to a walking party to see a hook 

 made, and if possible a 501b. salmon killed, at Doonass. 



Amongst all the innocent enjoyments this beautiful world affords, 

 I know none comparable to the delight of a new place. The sun 

 seems more bright, the air more charming, than elsewhere ; and even 

 common things are invested with new sensations emphatically new, 

 for there is nothing old or effete about them. Travelling, as a boy, 

 was my passion ; it is a passion still. It has never become flat, stale, 

 or unprofitable ; and all it ever was, it is now. 



In this city there is much to see, much to please. The lace manu- 

 factory is well worth a visit. I am sure it was beautiful. I know 

 it was dear. The quays, too, are full of life and novelty. The river 

 had been most magnanimously forgiven, and we did all justice to its 

 grandeur and beauty. Full of history (the guide-book was in our 

 pocket) we strolled over King's Island, fully appreciating the present 

 as compared with the past. Of course we went to the top of the 

 Cathedral tower. Below lay the city, every street, lane, and court 

 spread out like a map. Eastward the river came broad and shining 

 to the sea ; westward it still rolled on, widening as it went. The 

 rich lowlands fell off on either side, leaving a broader channel, till 

 the half -transparent mist so mingled land and water, that the eye 

 strove in vain to decide where the meadows ended and the ocean 



