commonplace of dull existence, who would not while within this cavern and under this fortress, enter into the associations connected with the scene; who could not hold communings with the "Genius Loci."

Fancy I know called up for me the war-boats and the foeman, who either issued from, or took shelter in, this seacave. I imagined, as the tide was growling amidst the far recesses, that I heard the moanings of chained captives, and the huge rocks around must be bales of plunder, landed and lodged here, and I took an interest, and supposed myself a sharer in the triumphs of the fortunate, and the helplessness of the captive, while suffering under the misery that bold men inflicted in troubled times, when the M'Quillans of the Rout, and the M'Donnells of the Glyns, either gained or lost this debatable stronghold. Landing in this cavern, we passed up through its landside entrance toward the ruin; the day had become exceeding warm, and going forth from the coolness of the cave into the sultry atmosphere, we felt doubly the force of the sun's power-the sea-birds had retreated to their distant rocks the goats were panting under the shaded ledges of the cliffs the rooks and choughs, with open beaks and drooping wings, were scattered over the downs, from whose surface they arose with a quivering undulating motion; we were all glad for a time to retire to where, under the shade of the projecting cliff, a cold, clear spring offered its refreshing waters.

Reader, surely you cannot be at a loss for a drawing or print of Dunluce Castle; take it now I pray you in hand, and observe with me the narrow wall that connects the ruined fortress with the main land; see how this wall is perforated, and without any support from beneath, how it hangs there, bearing time and tempest, and still needing no power of arch, simply by the power of its own cemented material; the art of man could not make such another self-supporting thing; it is about eighteen inches broad, just the path of a man; do not fear to cross it, rest assured it won't tumble with you: it has borne many a better man, so come on, who 's afraid?" I really cannot bring myself to venture," was the reply of both my companions.

"Sit ye down then, ye giddy-headed cockneys, and bask your day in the sun, Alick and I will step across and visit

the Banshee." So, with the greatest ease, we tripped across; Carrick-a-Rede is seventy times more fearful.

"And now, Mr. M'Mullen, as you and I have this old place to ourselves, come show me everything, and tell me all about it."

"With the greatest pleasure in life, sir," says Alick, "for it gave me joy to see a gentleman like you, hopping like a jackdaw over that bit of wall; and indeed many a good one comes here like you, gentleman and lady, who I believe have their skulls full of what they call nerve, instead of sensible steady brains."

"Well, Alick, beyond a doubt this is a fine old place."

"Why then, sir, it's you that may say that, for many a battle and bloody head was about it in good old fighting times, when fighting and fun were all one in merry Ireland."

"Come then, Alick, tell me some of this fighting fun that the good old happy people you speak of enjoyed here in Dunluce."

"And does it become me to tell your honor of the wars of Dunluce? Why, I thought as how with your black coat and splatterdashes, you might be a scholar-besides, as you intend to see the Causeway, and the Cave, and Pleaskin, it may be your honor won't have time to hear all I have to tell you about the M'Quillans and M'Donnells, and Surly Boy and Captain Merriman,-but, at any rate, I'll tell you, in short, about the boat-race, whereby this castle was won and lost, when the M'Quillans and M'Donnells contended for it in the presence of the King of Scotland, and agreed to leave their right to the issue of a row from Isla to Dunluce-he who first touched the land was to have the castle as his prize; so he started on just such a day as this, wind and wave agreed to sit still and let the oarmen have fair play-and to be sure it was they who rowed for honor and glory as for life, and the M'Quillans prayed enough for St. Patrick, and the M'Donnells to Columkill of the Isles, and neither, you may be sure, spared the spirits for it's hard to say whether John Highlandman, or Pat of the green hills, is better at that work; but, at any rate, on they came, beautiful and abreast, like two swans cutting, with white bosoms, the green waters; and now it was pull Paddy, and now it was pull Sandy, and

none on the shore could tell for their lives which was foremost; but at any rate, the Irish boys shouted enough, and prayed enough for the M'Quillans; and now, sir, they were within stone's throw, and now almost within oar's length, when what do you think my Scotchman did?

"For never put it past canny Sawney, all the world over, for getting the better of others; and if he fails at fair beating, he'll not pass by cheating: so it was here. The two chiefs were each at their boat's bow, and M'Quillan had his long arm outstretched, and M'Donnell held his Lochabar axe in his hand, and all at once laying his left wrist on the gunwale before him, he slashed at it with his hatchet; severed it at a blow, and while it was spinning out blood, he flung it with all his force against the rock; and do you see where that sea-parrot is now perched, on that bird's-nest ledge, there the bleeding hand lay, and the red mark is said to be there, though I have never seen it, unto this very day.

'Huzza for McDonnell, Dunluce is our own,

For spite of McQuillan, the castle is won.'

"Such was the cry of the Scotchmen as they landed, and so it was that even the Irish gave it in favor of the foreigner, who, at the expense of his limb, won the prize, and long and many a day the Scotchmen held it, until he became a good Irishman, and to this hour you may see a bloody hand painted in the middle of Lord Antrim's coatof-arms."

THE STORY OF GRANA UAILE.

Grace O'Mealey, which has been corrupted into Grana Uaile, was the daughter of Breanhaun Crone O'Maille, tanist or chieftain of that district of Mayo surrounding Clew Bay, and comprising its multitudes of isles. This district is still called by the old people the Uiles of O'Mealey; and its lord, owning, as he did, a great extent of coast, and governing an adventurous sea-faring people, had good claim to this motto, "Terra Marique Potens."

Breanhaun Crone O'Maille, dying early, left a son and a daughter-the son but a child. The daughter, just ripen

ing into womanhood, seemed to have a character suited to seize the reins of government and rule over this rude and brave people. Setting aside, then, at once the laws of tanistry, that confined the rule to the nearest male of the family, she took upon her, not only the government, but the generalship of her sept, and far exceeded all her family in exploits as a sea-rover; and from her success, whether as smuggler or pirate, as the case might be, she won the name of Grace of the Heroes. Acting in this wild and able way, she soon gathered round her all the outlaws and adventurers that abounded in the islands, and from the daring strokes of policy she made, and the way in which she bent to her purpose the conflicting interests of the English government and the Irish races-she was called the Gambler. As a matter of policy, she took for her first husband O'Flaherty, Prince of Connemara; and there is reason to suppose that the gray mare proving the better horse, the castle in Lough Corrib, of whose traditional history notice has been already taken, was nearly lost to the Joyces, by O'Flaherty the Cock, but was saved and kept by Grana the Hen, hence it got the name which it still keeps of Krishlane na Kirca-the Hen's Castle. Be this as it may, Grana's husband, the Prince of Connemara, dying soon, she was free to make another connection, and in this also she seems to have consulted more her politics than her affections, and became the wife of Sir Richard Bourke, the M'William Eighter. Tradition hands down a singular item of the marriage contract. The marriage was to last for certain (what said the Pope to this?) but one year, and if at the end of that period, either said to the other "I dismiss you," the union was dissolved. It is said that during the year, Grana took good care to put her own creatures into garrison in all M’William's eastward castles that were valuable to her, and then, one fine day, as the Lord of Mayo was coming up to the castle of Corrig-a-Howly, near Newport, Grana spied him, and cried out the dissolving words "I dismiss you." We are not told now how M'William took the snapping of the matrimonial chain; it is likely that he was not sorry to have a safe riddance of such a virago. We shortly after this find Grana siding with Sir Richard Bingham against the Bourkes, and doing battle with the English. The O'Mealeys, on this occasion, turned

the fortune of the day in favor of the President of Connaught, and most of the M'William leaders being taken prisoners, six of them were hanged next day at Cloghan Lucas," in order to strengthen the English interest."

It is probable that it was in gratitude of the signal aid afforded to her lieutenant, that Queen Elizabeth invited Grana over to her English court; and it certainly confirms the Irish-woman's character for decision and firmness, that she accepted the invitation of the Saxon, of whose faithfulness the Irish nation had but a low opinion. Accordingly Grana sailed from Clare Island, and before she arrived at the port of Chester was delivered of a son, the issue of the marriage with M'William Eighter. He being born on shipboard was hence named Tohaduah-na-Lung, or Toby of the Ship, from whom sprang the viscounts Mayo. It must have been a curious scene, the interview at Hampton Court between the wild woman of the west, and the "awe-commanding, lion-ported" Elizabeth. Fancy Grana, in her loose attire, consisting of a chemise, containing thirty yards of yellow linen, wound round her body, with a mantle of frieze, colored madder-red, flung over one shoulder, with her wild hair twisted round a large golden pin as her only headgear, standing with her red legs unstockinged, and her broad feet unshod, before the stiff and stately Tudor, dressed out (as we see her represented in the portraits of that day) with stays, stomacher, and farthingale, cased like an impregnable armadillo-what a tableau vivant' this must have been! and then Grana, having made a bow, and held out her bony hand, horny as it was with many an oar she had handled, and many a helm she had held, to sister Elizabeth (as she called her), sat down with as much selfpossession and self-respect as an American Indian chief would now before the President of the United States.

Elizabeth, observing Grana's fondness for snuff, which, though a practice newly introduced, she had picked up in her smuggling enterprises, and perceiving her inconvenienced, as snuffers usually are when wanting a pockethandkerchief, presented her with one richly embroidered, which Grana took indifferently, used it loudly, and cast it away carelessly, and when asked by Sir Walter Raleigh, why she treated the gift of her Majesty in such a way, the answer of the wild Irish girl was of that coarseness that