By Mary Gorges London Adam & Charles Black Soho Square W 1912 {THE UPPER LAKE.}...

Killarney —in Irish “the Church of the Sloes”—though but a small town, is, owing to its position, the centre from which the wondrously lovely scenery of the district may best be explored, a district which has been described as “the Mecca of every pilgrim in search of the sublime and beautiful in Nature—the mountain paradise of the West.” Yet if the magical softness of shimmering wave and wooded isle, the glory of their colouring, the ineffable peace which broods over hill and vale, tempt the sum

The principal lakes of Killarney are three in number—the Upper Lake is the smallest, but often adjudged the most beautiful; it is two miles and a half in length by half a mile in breadth, the Middle (Torc or Muckross) Lake is two miles long by one broad, while Lough Leane (“the Lake of Learning”) is five miles and a half long by two miles and a half in breadth. These lakes are connected by channels, narrow, though sufficiently wide to admit of the passing of a boat, so in a sense they may be con

No one has ever realized the enchantment of Killarney or fallen under its spell who has not been upon its waters. As the boat glides into the Upper Lake, all that has ever been said of its varied beauty seems poor compared to the reality. The mountains which surround it on every side give indescribable grandeur to its scenery—so much so that, added to the contrasted beauty of its wooded isles, it is on the whole conceded that it bears the golden apple from its sister lakes; certainly, as the boa

Nothing more beautiful than the scene viewed from Muckross (“the place of wild swine”) can be imagined. Its woods and lawns form a large promontory, shooting far into the lake, which the wooded isles beyond seem almost to join, the water breaking and glancing between like tiny bays. Muckross Abbey Mansion stands in lovely grounds, which, fringing the slope to the water’s edge, form a beautiful shore to the lake. The scene which this point commands is unrivalled—indeed, Torc lake (Torc, a wild bo

Ross is only separated from the mainland by a narrow cut through a morass, which gives it its claim to be an island. This division is probably artificial, and made in former days to strengthen the fortifications of the Castle. A carriage road from the town of Killarney crosses the small connecting bridge and brings the tourist under the walls of Ross Castle, where there is a landing-place for those who come by water. Ross Castle is still a splendid old fortress, far less injured by time or misch

The people who dwell on the shores of these lovely lakes are a handsome race, tall and finely formed, with clear-cut features and dark and most expressive eyes, often of the Irish grey or deep violet, with long black lashes. Pencilled eyebrows and abundance of dark-brown hair usually accompany these, and that clear complexion which the moist western breezes confer. They love music and dancing, the “boys and girls,” who, meeting on a roadside, only require a merry tune to “foot it away” and forge

The Raths, or “fairy forts,” of Killarney have hitherto seldom been explored. They are circular grassy mounds enclosing a field, generally small. Underneath are found stone chambers, their beehive roofs and walls made of unmortared stone. It is supposed that here the ancient Celts fortified themselves and their cattle, retreating in winter into the stone chambers. Be this as it may, for centuries the Irish have believed them to be tenanted by a fairy race, whose palaces are here, and who guard h