d been told it was almost impossible to breathe
without expense, might not also be seen by one of limited means.

The fore _cabin_ was merely a bare room, with a bench along one side,
which was occupied by half a dozen Irishmen in knee-breeches and heavy
brogans. As we passed out of the Clarence Dock at 10 P.M., I went below
and managed to get a seat on one end of the bench, where I spent the
night in sleepless misery. The Irish bestowed themselves about the floor
as they best could, for there was no light, and very soon the Morphean
deepness of their breathing gave token of blissful unconsciousness.

The next morning was misty and rainy, but I preferred walking the deck
and drying myself occasionally beside the chimney, to sitting in the
dismal room below. We passed the Isle of Man, and through the whole
forenoon were tossed about very disagreeably in the North Channel. In
the afternoon we stopped at Larne, a little antiquated village, not far
from Belfast, at the head of a crooked arm of the sea. There is an old
ivy-grown tower near, and high green mountains rise up around. After
leaving it, we had a beautiful panoramic view of the northern coast.
Many of the precipices are of the same formation as the Causeway;
Fairhead, a promontory of this kind, is grand in the extreme. The
perpendicular face of fluted rock is about three hundred feet in height,
and towering up sublimely from the water, seemed almost to overhang our
heads.

My companion compared it to Niagara Falls petrified; and I think the
simile very striking. It is like a cataract falling in huge waves, in
some places leaping out from a projecting rock, in others descending in
an unbroken sheet.

We passed the Giant's Causeway after dark, and about eleven o'clock
reached the harbor of Port Rush, where, after stumbling up a strange old
street, in the dark, we found a little inn, and soon forgot the Irish
Coast and everything else.

In the morning when we arose it was raining, with little prospect of
fair weather, but having expected nothing better, we set out on foot for
the Causeway. The rain, however, soon came down in torrents, and we were
obliged to take shelter in a cabin by the road-side. The whole house
consisted of one room, with bare walls and roof, and earthen floor,
while a window of three or four panes supplied the light. A fire of peat
was burning on the hearth, and their breakfast, of potatoes alone, stood
on the table. The occupants received