new palace; the arms of the family to whom it belongs are carved on the chimney-pieces, and on the ceilings. On going down to the quay I found it was high tide; several small vessels were there. The walls of Conway, and the castle, and the suspension bridge, look well from this point. Next to the gateway is a large house, the property of the Erskines: the library is in the tower of the gateway; it is now deserted, and falling to decay, but must have been a pleasant residence.
Quitted Conway on my road to Ireland. Aber Conway, as I passed it, appeared to me very beautiful; the bridge with its single arch, the mountains in front, the church to the left, the stream and the trees, would form a lovely subject for a sketch.
The high road is fine—excellent, it is cut through, and winds round a high rock close to the sea-shore, towards which a good stone wall forms a rampart, and prevents any one feeling nervous. The views in North Wales pleased me very much; the mountains are low, but the heaviness of the atmosphere causes clouds to hang upon their summits, to which their height appears scarcely to entitle them. Penrith Castle is handsome, and the stone quarries appear large and valuable. I passed over and admired the Menai Bridge, and crossed Anglesea in darkness. They tell me the pretty and small black cattle, so common in Wales, come from Anglesea,—the breed of the island. There are no wild goats in Wales, and I only saw two or three tame ones.
6th.—Arrived in Dublin, and proceeded to Knapton. The country around Dublin is hilly, pretty, and has some trees; further inland it is flat, very flat and uninteresting. The towns swarm with beggars, who look very cold, and of an unhealthy white, as if much illness were added to their poverty: the Irish cabins appear abodes of wretchedness, some of them being without a chimney, the smoke making its exit through the door; the pigs and the naked-legged children rolling together; and the roof looking as if its original thatching of straw was turned into mud, so covered is it with green moss, and the black hue of dampness. The potatoes are piled in ridges in the fields, covered over with a few inches of earth neatly beaten down,—*
