to St. Colman, the patron
Saint of Cloyne, occupies a commanding position over the harbour. It is
in the later florid Gothic architecture, and within one of its
transepts is buried the celebrated Dr. Coppinger, a learned writer and
member of the most famous and enduring of the Danish families to whom
Ireland became a native land. In an old graveyard on the island, Charles
Wolfe, the writer of the elegy on Sir John Moore, and Tobin, the
dramatist, are buried. The panorama from Spy Hill embraces the
enchanting river and the wide harbour, which is capable of holding all
the ships in the British Navy within the line drawn from the two forts,
Camden and Carlisle, which guard the entrance. Of Queenstown, the
_Dublin Health Record_ says:--"The climate is remarkably mild and
equable, and, at the same time, fairly dry and tonic, and is especially
suitable as a winter and spring residence for persons with delicate
chests, to sufferers from chronic catarrhal throat affections, and to
convalescents from acute diseases. It is particularly appropriate as a
seaside resort to persons requiring a soothing and sedative atmosphere.
From the position of Queenstown, winds from the colder points are very
little felt, and it is completely protected from the north, north-east,
and north-west winds. The mean temperatures of the seasons are exactly
similar to those at Torquay, the noted winter health resort in the south
of England, and higher than those of Bournemouth, Hastings, and Ventnor.
As a winter health resort, Queenstown possesses all the best natural and
climatic advantages."

The beach presents the most varied and motley sights to be seen anywhere
in northern Europe. Merchant seamen from every port of the world
congregate here; military and man-of-war sailors are ever present,
pleasure-seeking yachtsmen, pilots and fishers mix with the melancholy
groups of emigrants, or the irrepressible vendors of impossible wares.
Beyond in the blue waters, His Majesty's flagship rides at anchor, one
or more of the "ocean greyhounds," with dead slow engines, are steaming
out between the forts; tenders, whale-boats, small steamers, tugs, and
every craft that sails the sea, down to the familiar Munster "hooker,"
are hurrying to ports far and near, or lying "idle as painted ships upon
a painted ocean." Most of the Atlantic liners have offices here. Tenders
convey the mails from the deep-water quays at the Great Southern and
Western terminus out to the