“There could not be a place better suited to our purpose, nor a party better suited to each other; the worst of it is I feel such an old man in comparison to the other two. Still we get on uncommonly well.” And again:— “I am not reading hard, for we have all agreed that, as we have come so far, we will see the country well, and that I am too old and the others too young to fatigue ourselves with reading.” A vast gap of about two years separated the leader of this reading party from his juvenile companions, and though the outer world may not recognise much difference between young fellows of twenty and twenty-two, University men will recognise at once the historical accuracy of the feeling and its expression! It is very hard to put aside all the amusing letters written at this time, with their picturesque descriptions of the exquisite scenery, their accounts of duck-shooting and stag-hunts and expeditions of various sorts, and their droll description of novel experiences in his present surroundings. The following extract from a letter to one of his sisters must suffice as a specimen:— “I must tell you of our evening yesterday. I was reading away as hard as could be when I heard the bagpipe in the next room. I found it was Gandsey, the celebrated piper, and all the village crowded into the house to hear. However, the ladies who had him would shut the door, because, as our landlord said, ‘one of them was a dumpey,’ _i.e._ deformed, and did not wish to be seen, so that we were disappointed. When he had done with them we thought that we must give ourselves and all the listeners a treat, so we said he must play for us too; and as our room was not large enough for the party, we adjourned to the kitchen, which, though a large room, was soon as full as it could comfortably hold. We had several famous tunes, to the great delight of all parties. As I felt my own feet quite a-going with the music, I proposed that those who wished should have a dance. We soon had some volunteers, and a famous Irish jig was the consequence. The partners were to me so un-tempting, as by far the best was the cook-maid, that, though I longed to dance too, my pride would not come down, and I looked on. Upcher and Merivale, however, danced hard with two of the maids, but they could not learn the jig, so the latter gave up. Upcher, however, went on with more perseverance than skill. But I can assure you it was a grand scene—a fine old blind man, the best piper in Kerry, playing with all his might, and the more active dancing in the middle of the room to correspond, and, if any by chance had a pair of shoes, taking them off to be the more active; while all along the walls were the ragged Irish watching the dance and sucking in the music with the greatest animation. Now just think what a difference there is between our two