result was that he accompanied me to
Ireland, on the express understanding that he was to send home a letter
daily by post assuring his friends of his safety. We went together
accordingly to Galway, up Lough Corrib to Cong and Lough Mask; by the
romantic lakes and mountains of Connemara to Clifden and Letterfrack,
and through the lovely pass of Kylemoor to Leenane; along the fiord of
Killury; then on, by Westport and Ballina to Sligo. Letters were
posted daily by my young friend; and every day we went forwards in
safety.

But how lonely was the country! We did not meet a single American
tourist during the whole course of our visit, and the Americans are the
most travelling people in the world. Although the railway companies
have given every facility for visiting Connemara and the scenery of the
West of Ireland, we only met one single English tourist, accompanied by
his daughter. The Bianconi long car between Clifden and Westport had
been taken off for want of support. The only persons who seemed to
have no fear of Irish agrarianism were the English anglers, who are
ready to brave all dangers, imaginary or supposed, provided they can
only kill a big salmon! And all the rivers flowing westward into the
Atlantic are full of fine fish. While at Galway, we looked down into
the river Corrib from the Upper Bridge, and beheld it literally black
with the backs of salmon! They were waiting for a flood to enable them
to ascend the ladder into Lough Corrib. While there, 1900 salmon were
taken in one day by nets in the bay.

Galway is a declining town. It has docks, but no shipping; bonded
warehouses, but no commerce. It has a community of fishermen at
Claddagh, but the fisheries of the bay are neglected. As one of the
poor men of the place exclaimed, "Poverty is the curse of Ireland." On
looking at Galway from the Claddagh side, it seems as if to have
suffered from a bombardment. Where a roof has fallen in, nothing has
been done to repair it. It was of no use. The ruin has been left to
go on. The mills, which used to grind home-grown corn, are now
unemployed. The corn comes ready ground from America. Nothing is
thought of but emigration, and the best people are going, leaving the
old, the weak, and the inefficient at home. "The labourer," said the
late President Garfield, "has but one commodity to sell--his day's
work, it is his sole reliance. He must sell it to-day, or it is lost
for-ever." And as the poo