rself in a foul alley of crowded tenements, in the midst of a misery and squalor that wring the heart. You will wonder to see women laughing together and children playing on the damp paveme

, at least, deaden those niceties of smell and taste and feeling which play so large a part in the lives of the well-to-do. And it is fortunate that this is so. But one threads one's way along these squalid streets,

guarding one end of it, and the curving street beyond, sweeping past the tall portico of the old Parliament House, past the time-stained buildings of Trinity College, and so on along busy Grafton Street to St. Stephen's Green. This is the most beautiful and characteristic of Dubli

d & Underw

IN C

IAS SACKVILLE

ntric attitudes of Dublin statues. There are few finer bodies of men in the world than the Royal Irish Constabulary. They are as spruce and erect as grenadiers; throughout the length and breadth of Ireland, I never saw a fat one. They a

onal attitude of haughty defiance; opposite him, Henry Grattan stands with hand outstretched midway of an eloquent period; and, as you explore the streets, you will see other patriots in bronze or marble doing everything but what they should be doing: standing quietly and making

one evening, to a Dublin woman of

perhaps they will quiet down once the governmen

reet?" I asked, for I

nt names it after a viceroy whom nobod

to the inertia of a government always suspicious of change, rather than to any desire to honour a forgotten viceroy, or hesitation to add another leaf to O'Connell's crown of laurel. O'Connell himself, in some critical quarters, is not quite the idol he once was; but Irishmen agree that t

passing years, and this memorial, so simple, so dignified, and yet so full of meaning, is one which no American can contemplate without a thrill of pri

ally honoured in the Irish capital, for there was nothing Irish about him, either in birth or temperament. Perhaps that is the reason. Stranger things have happened in Ireland. And indeed it is no stranger

monument faces by his name. A very handsome bridge it is, and there is a beautiful view from it, both up and down the river. Dublin is like Paris, in that it is built on both sides of a river, and th

s the Bank of Ireland. Time was when it housed the Irish Parliament, and that time may come again; meanwhile it stands as a monument to the classical taste of the eighteenth century an

all her fine spacious dwelling-houses. After the Union, nobody built wide spacious dwellings, but only narrow mean ones, to suit the new spirit; and the new spirit was so incapable of living in the lovely old house

, just across the street-a great pile of time-worn buildings, also in the classic style, and rather dull

sidences as remain are mostly given over to public purposes, and the square itself is redolently British; for there is a statue of George II in the centre, and one of Lord Eglinton not far away, and a triumphal arch commemorating the war in South Africa. But, if you look closely, you may find the inconspicuous bust of James Clarence Mangan, who coughed

ws, ove

ly for y

delicate

dle me wi

your emer

ng's dawn

or me, my flo

rk Ro

n Ros

f me through d

wer, my flowe

rk Ro

, but now occupied by the Royal Dublin Society. The wing at the right is the Science and Art Museum, that to the left the National Librar

Consort. We contemplated it for a while, and then went on to the great building which closes in the park on the north, and which houses the National Gallery of Ireland. We found the collection surprisingly good. It is especially rich in Dutch art, and possesses three Rembrandts, one of an old and ano

presentments of mediocre personalities, but with a high light here and there worth searching for. Sir Godfrey Kneller's portrait of Dick Steele is there

ious eighteenth century days, where that famous judge and duellist, Lord Clonmell, lived. The house itself would be worth seeing, even if there were no pictures in it, for it is a splendid exa

o, after lunch, we took a tram for the Hill of Howth. Most of the tram lines of the city

nes having left the mark of their presence in the names of places all over Ireland, even in the names of three of its four provinces. Only far Connaught escaped th

he said, making it rhyme with "you

ted; and then the conductor came around with tickets, and asked where we were going-in

f Hooth," I an

ith "both," and he picked out the correct tickets from th

ly, after that, and I never learned which

blin, and the tram thither runs through the north-eastern part of the town, and then emerges on the Strand, with Dublin Bay on one side and many handsome residences on the other. Away across the bay are the beautiful green masse

north and west; bands of raiders marched to and fro over the country, plundering shrines, despoiling monasteries, levying tribute, until all Ireland, with the exception of the extreme west, crouched under the Danish power. The Danes, it should b

all Ireland into one alliance, and at last the Danes met a resistance which made them pause. For twenty years, Brian waged desperate war against them, defeating them sometimes, sometimes d

cuit of Erin, without fear of molestation, though decked with gold and jewels. Brian did more than that-and this is the measure of his greatness: he built roads, erected churches and monasteri

could. With Brian were his own Munster men, and the forces of O'Rourke and Hy Many from Connaught, and Malachy with his Meath legions, and Desmond with

inavia and Iceland the levies hastened, led by "Thornstein, Hall of the Side's son, and Halldor, son of Gudmund the Powerful, and many other northern champions of lesser note." It is character

n, alternately prayed and watched the battle. The Danes had the better of it, at first, hewing down their adversaries with their gleaming axes; but the Munster men stood firm and fought so savagely that at last the Danes broke and fled. O

was laid by his men. The tradition may be true or not, but the wonderful tree, the most venerable in Ireland, is worth turnin

at O'Connell's Home Rule movement, to which thousands of men had pledged fealty, dropped suddenly to pieces because

it. Since then, the entrance has silted up, and now nothing rides at anchor there but small yachts and fishing-boats. On that clear and sunny day the view was very beautiful. A mile to the north was the rugged little island known as Ireland's Eye, and far away beyond the

ot there, but his wife was, as well as a large collection of ragged children, and one of these, a girl of ten or thereabouts, was sent by her mother to do the honours. She was very shy at first, but her tongue finally loosened, and we were enraptured with her soft voice and be

nave and one aisle, separated by three pointed arches. They are still there, very low and rude, marking the length of the Archbishop's church. Two centuries later, this was found too small, and so the church was lengthened by the addition of three more arches. They also are still standing, and are both higher and wider than the first three. The tracery in the east window is still intact, and is v

T. MARY'S

tomb, bearing the recumbent figures of the knight and his lady, the former's feet resting, after the usual fashion, on his dog. C

to the west of the town. The castle, a long, battlemented building flanked with towers, is said to contain many objects of interest, but we did not get in, for the gardener informed us that it was open to the public only on Tuesday

ck to the hotel, it was as light as midday. We were starting for our room, when a many-buttoned bell-boy, with a face like a cherub

ume, and had learned that there was to be a great labour celebration somewhere, with music and much oratory. We had not thought it worth while to r

America, sir, I'm t

," I

have see

y, yes, I've

e cried, his eyes sh

't help

go on the war-path any mor

face

seen cowboys?"

admitted. "That's where I h

ren't they?" and his e

en them?" I quest

oving-pictures," he explained. "It mus

they were always wildly applauded, and I think most Irishmen believe that the life of the average American is largely employed in fighting Indians and rescuing damsels in distress. I trie

he pounds with both of them, and sometimes he twirls one over his head and pounds with the other, and sometimes he crosses his arms over the top of the drum and pounds that way. I suppose there is an etiquette about it, for they all conduct t

nd women alike were the pale, patient faces of those who look often in the eyes of want. It melted the heart to see them-to see their rough and toil-worn clothing, their gnarled and twisted hands, their heavy hob-nailed shoes-and to think of their treadmill lives, without h

arade with the amused toleran

in Dublin," he remarked cheer