in the ancient ecclesiastical edifices may be attributed to the same cause; as it is highly probable, that the unsettled state of the times produced continual interruptions to the execution of any extensive works, and that they were performed at various periods and by different hands, the architects building according to their own plan, instead of falling into that of their predecessor; this appears to be the only mode of reconciling the wild and whimsical varieties of style that are to be found. Moorish and Grecian, Saxon and Gothic peculiarities are sometimes jumbled in the strangest combinations, and with the most singular effect. To a mind schooled in the knowledge of orders and the classification of relative ages, such associations are frequently very ludicrous, as much so as the appearance at the present day of a school-boy with

"A wisdom-giving wig-from barber bought
For judge❞—

or of a grave prelate in the cap and coat of a Christ's Hospital scholar.

CHAPTER XV.

THE RIVER LEE.

"The river side I choose

And all its mazes, from the secret spring
Along the grassy bank and shrubby bourne

By cliff and crag, to where the freighted barque
Rides fearless."

Millikin's River Side.

A PILGRIMAGE to the source of the River Lee is one frequently performed by two very different classes of persons, the superstitious and the curious; the first led by a traditional sanctity attached to the place, the latter by the reputed sublimity of its scenery, and a desire of witnessing the religious assemblies and ceremonies of the peasantry.

This river, the Luvius of Ptolemy, has its origin thirty-three miles west of Cork, in a lake called Gougaun Barra, in English, Barry's Hermitage; St. Fineen Bar, or Barry, having, it is said, lived a recluse here, before he founded the cathedral of Cork. A popular legend ascribes the foundation of that building to the following circumstance: St. Patrick, at his general banishment of all venemous creatures out of Ireland, forgot an enormous monster described as a

dragon or winged serpent, which wasted the surrounding country, and power was deputed to a holy man named Fineen Bar, to drown this monster in Gougaun Lake, on the condition of his erecting a church where its waters met the tide; and the saint, having destroyed the monster, fulfilled the agreement by founding the present cathedral of Cork.

The scenery of Gougaun Lake is bold and rugged, yet will scarcely afford the artist a suitable return for the labour of his journey. Surrounded by rocky and barren mountains, which rise with an air of desolate grandeur above the lake, in its centre is a small and solitary island, connected with the shore by a narrow artificial causeway, constructed to facilitate the rites of religious devotees, who annually flock thither on the 24th of June, (St. John's day,) to the celebration of a pious festival.

On this island, shaded by a few fine trees, some old walls may be seen, chiefly the work of an ascetic named O'Mahony, who retired from the world, and dwelt a recluse here for eight-and-twenty years, and who lies buried under a little arched recess on the shore of the lake.

Smith, in his History of Cork, mentions an inscription on this tomb, which I copy from that author, but could not discover the original.

"Hoc sibi et successoribus suis in eâdem vocatione monumentum imposuit dominus Doctor Dyonisius O'Mahony presbyter licet indignus, An. Dom. 1700."

The principal building on the island is a rudely formed circular wall of considerable solidity, in the thickness of which are nine arched recesses or cells, called chapels, severally dedicated to particular saints, with a plain flag stone set up in each as an altar.

In the centre of this enclosure, on a grassy elevation, that appears to have been formerly surrounded by stone steps, stands a wooden pole, the upright remains of a large cross, braced with many pieces

of iron, Hundreds of votive rags and bandages are nailed against it, and hung upon it, by those whose faith has made them whole, intended as acknowledgments of their cure. Also the spancels of cattle that have been driven through the lake, as a preventive against the murrain.

Without this circular wall are the ruins of Father O'Mahony's dwelling; the gable ends and tottering chimneys still remain, covered with stonecrop, a variety of rich lichens, and that hardy little plant the London pride, which is here indigenous, and seems to grow more luxuriantly in the crevices and upon the naked rocks about Gougaun Lake, than when cultivated in a garden. The digitalis also flourishes profusely on the neighbouring mountains.

My first visit to Gougaun Lake was on the 23d of June, 1815, the eve of St. John. Feeling a strong wish to be present at the celebration of an Irish patron, or religious meeting in remembrance of a particular saint-a mere boy at the time, I had toiled through a long and an arduous walk in company with one whose pen would more ably than mine have done justice to the scene.

For the last three miles, our road, or rather path, was up the side of steep acclivities, thence upon ranges of stone steps, over dreary mountainous swamps, and we were frequently obliged to quit the common track, in order to seek amongst the rushes for more secure footing. Large blocks of schistus rock lay scattered around, many of which at a little distance appeared like vast ruins; nor was there one tree or bush within view to destroy the appearance of entire neglect and desolation. After a walk of about seven Irish miles from the village of Inchegeela, we gained the brow of a mountain, and beheld the Lake of Gougaun with its little wooded island beneath us; one spot on its shore, swarming with people, appeared, from our elevated situation, to be a dark mass surrounded by moving specks, which continually merged into it. On our descent we caught the distant and indistinct murmur of the multitude; and as we approached and

forded the eastern extremity of the lake, where its waters discharge themselves through a narrow and precipitous channel, an unseemly uproar burst upon us, though at a distance of nearly half a mile from the assembly. It was not without difficulty that we forced our way through the crowd on the shore of the lake, to the wall of the chapels on the island, where we stood amid an immense concourse of people: the interior of the cells were filled with men and women in various acts of devotion, almost all of them on their knees; some, with hands uplifted, prayed in loud voices, using considerable gesticulation, and others, in a less noisy manner, rapidly counted the beads of their rosary, or, as it is called by the Irish peasant, their pathereen, with much apparent fervour; or, as a substitute for beads, threw from one hand into the other, small pebbles to mark the number of prayers they had repeated; whilst such of the men as were not furnished with other means kept their reckoning by cutting a notch on their cudgel, or on a piece of stick provided for the purpose.

To a piece of rusty iron, shaped thus, considerable importance seems to have been attached; it passed from one devotee to another with much ceremony. The form consisted in placing it three times, with a short prayer, across the head of the nearest person, to whom it was then handed, and who went through the same ceremony with the next to him, and thus it circulated from one to the other.

The crowd in the chapels every moment increasing, it became a matter of labour to force our way towards the shore, through the throng that covered the causeway. Adjoining the causeway, part of the water of the lake was inclosed and covered in as a well, by which name it was distinguished. On gaining the back of the well we observed a man, apparently of the mendicant order, describing, on a particular stone in its wall, the figure of a cross, with small pieces of