OF A TOUR IN IRELAND. 122 
excited a wish to stay for a few days, as I had at one time in- 
tended. ‘There are no tunnels, and no deep cuttings. At Mal- 
low the ground becomes somewhat more varied, but from Mallow 
to Killarney it resumes much of the same level character. The 
hills indeed, at a little distance from the road, are higher and 
bolder than those between Dublin and Mallow; and at Mill 
Street, or perhaps better at Shinnagh, the station between Mill 
Street and Killarney, a botanist might be tempted to delay a 
little, if he hadenot the greater attractions of Killarney imme- 
diately before him. 
I was at Killarney in 1809, and had not been there since. Of 
course great changes had taken place, of which the railway itself 
was not the least. There was then one inn at Killarney, and that 
not a very large one, and none in the neighbourhood. Now there 
are three in the town: one about a mile north of it (the Victo- 
ria); another about as much to the south (the Lake Hotel) ; 
both large establishments, accessible from the Lake, and having 
views over it from which the old inn, and indeed the whole town 
of Killarney, is quite shut out. There is also an immense rail- 
way hotel, two hotels at Mucruss, and another at some distance 
from the Lake, called the Turk (or Tore) view. I went to the 
Lake Hotel, which stands close to the Lake, with a view of ex- 
quisite beauty from the windows and very pleasant grounds. No 
position can be better for boating, and for cars it does not matter 
if the first two or three miles are not very pleasant ; but it must 
be understood that at Killarney, where you are not im a privi- 
leged place, you are between two high stone walls, the trees hang- 
ing over the road being all the view beyond them. You see no- 
thing at Killarney without paying for it, not even the Lake. Mr. 
Herbert puts up a notice at Mucruss that his servants are not per- 
mitted to ask for any money, and in fact I was not asked for any, 
either there or at Lord Kenmare’s park, but the gatekeepers evi- 
dently expect it, and are so officious in proffering services which 
are of no use to you, that you are ashamed not to give them 
something for that which is really useful, viz. opening the gate. 
The Irish passion seems to be to lock up everything. I thought 
at first that this was carried to a ridiculous excess, when I found 
that the entrance to the hotel was always locked ; but I was after- 
wards induced to think more favourably of this example, since 
without it the stranger would not be able to walk about the 
