Morning journal and courier., 1891-01-31
MIR. wAKEMAN'S JOURNEYINGS. At NottinSham, England-A silent Ramblc About old Noughal-The Rock of Cashel-R R uins of Iona.
NOTTINGHAM, England, Jan.

NOTTINGHAM, England, Jan. II.
 To the Editor of the JOURNAL AND COURIER:
 The longer one wanders in England, Scotland and Ireland the more encompass ing and impressive becomes that charm growing out of what may be termed lite rary identification.
 Over there in Ireland what can be more fascinating than a silent ramble about slumberous old Youghal and up drowsy Kilcolman way. There Raleigh and Spen- ser lived, loved and wrought. Tramping from Killarney to Cahersiveen, one fingers lovingly at Carhan bridge; for beside it the great O'Connell was born. Who but a
 bigot can climb the Rock of Cashel with out subdued and reverential feeling from | the historic and sacred surroundings: or who, but an insensate, shudders not at Boyne and Aughrim, where the life of a | nation broke in it's last wild throb upon | river and morass? Then, at Slane, who
 can fail of awe in the presence of prehis-
 toric monuments rivaling the pyramids themselves. To stand upon Tara's hill, in Meath, and in fancy see St. Patrick, un-
 mindful of the treachery planning his
 death, with his eight devoted followers,
 coming up the royal hill, chanting his
 prayer, "May the word of God render me
 eloquent!" to forever dim the fires of Bell
 taine with the sacred flame of Christianity
 through the conversion of King Laeg-
 haire, and the overthrow of organism in
 Ireland, is to come with startling tender
 ness close to an inspired career of one
 who lived but to bless nearly fifteen hun
 dred years ago. Vague and far it was to
 you before. But you feel and know the
 story now.
 So. too, how illimitable seem human cy
 cles, yet how compact and little, when you
 are tumbling among the remains of that
 tremendous pagan stronghold, Dun En
 gus, on the remotest precipice of Aran
 more, the most desolate of all Ireland's is lands The great archeologist, Dr. Petrie termed it ''the most magnificent barbari'
 monument in Europe" The legend il that Dun Engus and the five other grea forts, or duns, of the Arsn Islands wer , built from one thousand to fifteen hun dred years before the Christian era, by tn } flying and fated Firbolgs. No matte [ about the legend. There they stand to 3 day, more weird, suggestive and awe-in : spiring in their dread secrets of the peo pie that were than ever could lie in the si 3 fence of the Lybian Sphinx. And then r away in the north, over beyond old Derry g what thrill flashes through one whel l, standing alone upon the walls of the migh F ty Grianan of Aileach, whose eIistenc l can be definitely traced to the period 105 + before Christi Grianan, the mighty dun : of which we read in the Dinnsenchss: AileachF Erin, plat of the king-ra royal of th o world;
 n Dun, to which led horseroads, through fy
 mighty ramparts
 l.. So they did. You can trace them to thi # day as clearly as the paths in your ow n garden. On the crests of those circlin n mo lntains burned the signal-ires in tt s dim days, a tiara of flame to wake the h. # lots and their herds. Thither to the Gri ,s nan they streamed, those skin-clad horde
 Within those very ramparts huddled u # affrighted women and the focks. Withi 1t those very walls kings watched over ba st ties. There were the feasts of victor, st the wailings and lamentations; the weir d wild rites; all a thousand years before bs y barous man looked beyond the god of ds ,f to the one infinite God. But you did n, m sense this until your own feet had presst of the same earth theirs had trod. and vol 's eyes had looked upon lone Errigal, like 1, cone of steel in the west, and, through u n grim, dark passes, to the purple mis er above Armagh and Tyrone.
 ,e In all that can be read of the "Land pr Cakes" how the true feeling is lacking, u
 til one weds presence and actuality wi IS the toneless tales of words. To know u m weird straths and glens of the north, h breathe their air, drink in their wild al er gorgeous colorings, to listen to the roar 3" their glorious waterfalls, to sail over the ts silent lochs, to tremble in their migh 10 storms, is to come very close in thoug