Scarcely any thing in the world can be grander or more beautiful than the coast road all the way from Glenarm to the Giant's Causeway. It is altogether too fine to be described—it should be painted, not written about.
One of the grandest points in the scenery is the great promontory of Benmore, or Fairhead. From the sea it rises an immense precipice, formed of a multitude of enormous basaltic columns, at the highest point more than five hundred feet above the water.
We reached the Causeway late in the evening—so hungry and tired that we were very glad to get our supper and go to bed, without putting our heads out of doors. In the morning early we engaged a guide, and set out on our tour of sight-seeing.
The Causeway is formed by a vast collection of rocky columns—mostly as regular in shape as though cut by masonry—five-sided, six-sided, seven or eight-sided—piled and packed together, varying much in height, but little in size. Some form a floor almost as even as a city pavement—some form gradual steps leading down to the sea—and some tower upward, like spires and turrets.
There is a very singular collection of these columns on the side of the highest cliff, a hundred and twenty feet in height, called "the Giant's Organ," from their resemblance to the pipes of that instrument.
According to tradition, the mighty Giant, Fin Mac Cual, was musical in his taste, and used to give himself "a little innocent divarsion" here, after his hard labors in building the Causeway. Even now, when the sea roars, and the deep thunder rolls along the rocky coast, they say—"the giant is playing on his big stone organ under the cliff."
Sometimes they say,—"Listen to Fin, now!—he's at his avening devotions—Heaven help us, an' him, poor cratur!" and then they cross themselves, for Fin was but a miserable heathen, and can have no part now, they think, in the true church.
By the way, I was told while here, a ludicrous little anecdote of the great Fin, from which it seems that he was not, after all, quite as brave as a giant should be. It is said that when he had finished the Causeway, he went up on a high point and shouted across the channel to the Scotch Giant, Benandonner, to come over and fight him, if he dared. Bold Benandonner accepted the challenge, and began to wade across—threatening and bullying his Irish enemy. As he drew near, he seemed to grow so much bigger, that Fin got frightened, and turned and ran into his house, which stood near the cliff.
"What's the matter, Fin?" said his wife, who saw what a tremble he was in, and how pale he looked.
"Ah, my darling," said he, "there's big Benandonner coming over to have a fight—and as I'm not very well to-day, I don't like to meet him."