ey-piece in the library where Sir John's aged mother received us
most kindly and hospitably is a marvel of Elizabethan woodwork. The
shelves are filled with a quaint and miscellaneous collection of old and
rare books. I opened at random one fine old quarto, and found it to
contain, among other curious tracts, models of typography, a Latin
critical disquisition by Raphael Regini on the first edition of
Plutarch's Life of Cicero, "_nuper inventa diu desideraia _"--a
disquisition quite aglow with the cinquecento delight in discovery and
adventure. In the grounds of this charming house stand four very fine
Irish yews forming a little hollow square, within which, according to a
local legend, Sir Walter sat enjoying the first pipe of tobacco ever
lighted in Ireland, when his terrified serving-maid espying the smoke
that curled about her master's head hastily ran up and emptied a pail of
water over him. In the garden here, too, we are told, was first planted
the esculent which better deserves to be called the Curse of Ireland
than does the Nine of Diamonds to be known as the Curse of Scotland. The
Irish yew must have been indigenous here, for the name of Youghal,
Father Keller tells me, in Irish signifies "the wood of yew-trees." A
subterranean passage is said to lead from Sir Walter's dining-room into
the church, but we preferred the light of day.

The precincts of the church adjoin the grounds and garden, and with
these make up a most fascinating poem in architecture. The churches of
St. Mary of Youghal and St. Nicholas of Galway have always been cited to
me as the two most interesting churches in Ireland. Certainly this
church of St. Mary, as now restored, is worth a journey to see. Its
massive tower, with walls eight feet thick, its battlemented chancel,
the pointed arches of its nave and aisles, a curious and, so far as I
know, unique arch in the north transept, drawn at an obtuse angle and
demarcating a quaint little side-chapel, and the interesting monuments
it contains, all were pointed out to me with as much zest and
intelligent delight by Father Keller as if the edifice were still
dedicated to the faith which originally called it into existence. It
contains a fine Jacobean tomb of Richard, the "great Earl of Cork," who
died here in September 1643. On this monument, which is in admirable
condition, the effigy of the earl appears between those of his two
wives, while below them kneel his five sons and seven daughters, t