emigrant and other vessels which trade to America and the colonies; colliers and coasting craft. But there is also a sprinkling of foreign ships. On both sides of the river there are docks; those by the Custom-house and those of the Grand Canal, are extensive, but there are very few vessels in them. From nearly all the ships lying out, and loading and discharging their cargoes in the not very wide river, the quays are very crowded, and there appears to be much more commerce than there probably is: but the shipping trade has the appearance of activity. It is, by the way, a curious sight just now to see the eager swarms that surround the emigrant offices on Eden Quay.

On the north bank, a short distance below Carlisle Bridge, is the Custom-House,-an isolated building, of far higher architectural rank than its London namesake, and probably than any other of the kind in the world. It was commenced in 1781, and completed in 1791, at a cost of above half a million sterling. The architect was James Gandon. It is 375 feet in length, and 209 feet in depth. All the four fronts are highly enriched; but the chief front is, of course, that which faces the river. (Cut, No. 3.) The river front consists of a centre and wings, with an advanced tetrastyle portico of the Doric order. The tympanum contains a basrelief, representing the Union of England and Ireland. On the attic are statues of Neptune, Plenty, Industry,

and Mercury. A noble cupola rises to the height of 125 feet, and is surmounted by a colossal figure of Hope. The north front is scarcely inferior to the southern, though less ornamented on the attic above the portico are statues of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. The interior is also admirable: the great room, especially, is a very handsome apartment. But this magnificent building is on far too colossal a scale for the Customs of Dublin; indeed, of late, it has been found to afford ample room for the offices of the Commissioners of Excise, of Stamps, and of Records; of the Board of Works, the Poor-Law Commissioners, Army-Pay, and several other Government Boards; and then verge enough for Geological and, we believe, other museums in short, it is now something like what Somerset House would be, if one could fancy that edifice removed to Thames Street and incorporated with the CustomHouse.

Towards the other end of the quays, just above Richmond Bridge, is another of the buildings which add so much to the grandeur of the city-the Four Courts. Our engraving (Cut, No. 4,) will serve to show its general appearance and save the necessity of description, for which we are becoming somewhat straitened in space. The Four Courts were commenced in 1786, from a design by Cooley, the architect of the Royal Exchange; but he dying while the works were

in progress, the completion was entrusted to Gandon, who made some alterations in the design. Within these few years there have been considerable additions made to the original pile. The entire structure is very large -it having to afford accommodation for the courts of law, and offices connected with them. The grand front extends along King's Quay for nearly 500 feet. The central building, which contains the four courts of Chancery, Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, and Exchequer, has a very beautiful portico of six Corinthian columns, with statues of Moses on the apex, and Justice and Mercy on the extremities of the pediment; and above ascends the large and graceful dome. Altogether this is generally considered to be one of the very finest as well as most important buildings in Dublin.

The interior of it must not be overlooked, if the stranger be so fortunate as to spend a morning in Dublin in term time. As you enter the circular hall (a singularly beautiful one), instead of hearing the sort of quiet hum that greets you on entering Westminster or Guildhall, you are half-stunned by a confusion of voices worthy of Babel, and jostled to and fro in a crowd rivalling that of the Stock Exchange. In the passages men and women and boys are hawking tapes, and knives, and all kinds of small wares that lawyers need; and cakes, and pies, and fruit, and almost every variety

of refreshment that lawyers or suitors could manage to swallow amid such a tumult. Within, there is a perfect army of barristers, whether briefless or briefed, all as merry as grigs, cracking jokes on the right and left with learned brothers or unlearned clients, or assembled around some famous wag who is keeping them in a constant roar of laughter. The attorneys, and witnesses, and lookers-on, all appear bent on mirth, and laugh and talk with heart and voice heartily. Gravity seems by common consent banished from the outer court of Themis. In the inner temple, and in the presence of my lord,' there is of course something more of quiet and seriousness. If Counsellor Butt,' or some other favourite be addressing the bench and jury, there is silence deep enough; but if an unlucky witness is 'tabled,' you are almost sure of some amusement. An Irish barrister seems to adopt a much more 'free and easy' style in examining a witness than an English one, and poor Pat, falling into the same familiar vein, is certain to be led into some ludicrous mistake, or contradiction, or strange absurdity. It is quite curious to observe the eagerness with which the auditors-and the courts appear to be a favourite lounging-place with idlers, of whom there are never wanting plenty in Dublin-watch the progress of the questioning, and the delight with which they catch at a blunder or a bit of humour: there is a roar on the instant. Cer

tainly, although wit or humour is wanting, there is no want of appreciation of it among the lower classes of Irishmen; and though always ready to make a bull or a blunder himself, Pat is ever the first to note it in another.

But we shall never get through Dublin at this rate. There is another building connected with law, the King's Inns, which is worth visiting, though it is some distance off and rather out of the way. In going to it from the Courts you pass through a corner of a locality that rivals St. Kevins in poverty and squalor. Some of the dismal cellars in which the wretchedest of the population are here congregated-and which are let in nightly lodgings-are, if possible, worse than those in Liverpool, and like them they are the nursing-places of fever and of crime. It is terrible to look into some of these filthy dens, and startling to see the poor creatures who inhabit them. Those who visit Dublin for pleasure will not visit these places--it is not desirable or fitting that they should; but it is well that their existence should be known, that, if possible, something may be done for their eradication. Instead of turning westward through this district, we proceed northwards, and soon come to the Linen Hall, a building which deserves a moment's attention. It is an immense pile of six large courts, and contains 575 apartments. It was erected at a period when Dublin was the emporium of the Irish linen trade now that trade is almost wholly transferred to Belfast, and the Hall is comparatively deserted. The King's Inns are just beyond the Linen Hall. Though the only inns of law in Dublin, they occupy a situation almost out of town,' and wear a very secluded air. The building is a large and very pleasing one, and if not so striking as some others in the city, it exhibits much richness of effect, especially in the chief front. The hall is a very handsome room. Close by the Inns is the station of the Mullingar Railway; and not far distant is St. Mary's Church; both interesting buildings, and with those we have just described, amply sufficient to repay a walk to this end of the city. St. Anne's Church is a modern Gothic structure, rather meagre and incorrect in the details, but of very pleasing appearance at a little distance, owing to the picturesque way in which the many light pinnacles and the lofty slender spire group together.

The most striking recent additions to the architecture of Dublin are the railway stations—and they are quite worthy of the high character of the civic buildings. This Mullingar, or Midland Great Western Railway Station, is a very striking structure. The long Ionic arcade which has just been completed, is an exceedingly chaste design it is constructed of a choice kind of mountain granite, which adds much to the effect. From this station there is a good view of the city. The terminus of the Drogheda Railway, close by the Custom House, is in the Italian Palazzo style, with a lofty central tower: it is a graceful building, but hardly so appropriate or characteristic as the others. The principal front is of Wicklow granite. The terminus of the Dublin and Kingstown Railway has no architectural pretensions.

But the handsomest railway terminus that we have seen in any part of the kingdom is that of the Great Southern and Western Railway, near King's Bridge. This is the railway that we hope to conduct our readers along, on the way to Killarney, in our next Part. The station is a very large building, of the Italo-Corinthian order; the façade is highly-enriched, and the style is carried out in the tout-ensemble and in the details with excellent taste. It is constructed entirely of the beautiful Wicklow mountain granite, exquisitely wrought and dressed; a material which, now it is quite fresh and clean, has quite a brilliant effect when seen under a bright sun.

Not far from this station is one of those excellent institutions which are so numerous in Dublin. This one is the Royal Hospital, which stands on the site of an ancient priory of the Knights Templars. The Hospital is a noble building, erected from a design by Sir Christopher Wren. Another edifice in this neighbourhood, though of no great elegance, will be regarded with interest when its name is mentioned-it is St. Patrick's, or, as it is more commonly called, Swift's Hospital, the institution which Swift, apparently with a painful foreboding of his own fearful malady, founded and endowed for the reception of lunatics and idiots :-he gave, as he said, with a levity that appears to have been put on to conceal the keenness of his feelings on the subject: "He gave the little wealth he had To build a house for fools or mad, And showed, by one satiric touch, No nation wanted it so much." Considerable additions have been made to the foundation; and there is now provision for 170 patients, about a third of whom are admitted and maintained gratuitously. The condition and management of the Institution are said to be admirable. If we had space, we might mention other charitable institutions; as it is, we can only say that they are very numerous, and of almost every kind, in Dublin, and many of them are on a large and liberal scale. The charity of the inhabitants of Dublin has always been munificent; and it is exercised as well privately as through public institutions.

It would be a great oversight to omit to mention the squares of Dublin; but we can only mention them. The chief is St. Stephen's Green-the largest square in Europe. It is an English mile in circuit. The central area is laid out and planted. The houses around are large and lofty: many of them are noble mansions. Among the most noteworthy are the resi dences of the Archbishop of Dublin and of the Lord Chancellor; the United Service Club; and the College of Surgeons. Next in size to St. Stephen's is Merrion Square; which is, however, only about half as large. The houses here are uniform in appearance, spacious, and lofty. On the south side may be observed one of the largest houses in the square, now closed, dirty, and forsaken; an escutcheon is fixed against the first floor; a notice that this house is to let appears in the window. This neglected mansion was the town residence of Daniel O'Connell: its appear

ance typifies the neglect into which the memory of its old master has fallen. It reminds us of the lath-andplaster building on Burgh Quay, near Carlisle Bridge, noticeable for a somewhat tawdry-looking front, Conciliation Hall: which, like the mansion of the Liberator, is shut up and unheeded. St. Stephen's Green and Merrion Square are close to each other, and only a short distance from College Green. There are four or five more squares of considerable size, but not near so large as these, and not requiring any further notice from us.

Indeed, we have no time now to notice anything else in the city. The bridges, the barracks, and other necessary as well as ornamental structures, must all pass undescribed; so must the Theatres, the Music Halls, the Rotunda, the Gardens, and other places devoted to pleasure. It will be enough to remark, in concluding this hasty glance over Dublin, that we have merely mentioned a few of the objects to be seen in it, and indicated a few of its peculiarities. Hardly another city could be found where three or four days might be more profitably or pleasantly employed. There is, as even our rough notice will have shown, sufficient to repay the researches of any one, whatever may be his particular tastes, at least for a day or two; and he will be hard to please if he does not find sufficient amusement or occupation for his evenings. We have supposed the visitor to be a stranger, and his abode an hotel it cannot be necessary to add, that if he have friends there, or any introductions, any time he can spend in the city will pass right cheerfully ;-for Dublin hospitality is proverbial.*

THE ENVIRONS OF DUBLIN.

The environs of Dublin are, in parts, very beautiful: by means of the different railways the more celebrated spots within a few miles of the city may be easily reached. Our first stroll shall be westward-we can return by the train. Phoenix Park adjoins the city; and is at once an ornament to it and a most important benefit to the inhabitants. It occupies an area of some eighteen hundred acres, and is nearly seven miles in circumference,-being one of the largest and finest public parks in the kingdom. The surface is in places undulated; but there are no hills. It is pretty well planted: though an open space is left sufficiently extensive for reviews on the grandest scale. In this park is the Lord Lieutenant's Lodge-a large and handsome mansion, with a considerable domain attached. Opposite to it is the Chief Secretary's Lodge. The The Wellington Testimonial, which is so noticeable an object from the city and suburbs, stands in this park, at no great distance from the entrance. It is a plain • The stranger in Dublin will find the hand-book pub

lished by M'Glashan, entitled 'Dublin and its Environs,' a convenient and sufficient guide. We compared many of its notices on the spot, and found them to be very faithful: and we have been a good deal indebted to it in drawing up this

sketch.

but massive granite obelisk, mounted on a pedestal, which is raised on an elevated platform: the height of the obelisk is 205 feet. On the sides of the obelisk, from base to summit, are inscribed the victories of the duke: the sides of the pedestal are intended to have bassi-relievi of the chief battles. A lofty insulated pedestal in front is intended to bear an equestrian statue. The Duke of Wellington, it will be remembered, was born in Dublin; and the citizens, proud of their fellow-townsman, erected this testimonial, in honour of him, at a cost of £20,000, which sum was raised by a public subscription. From the mound on which the Testimonial stands a remarkably good view of the city is obtained. Nearly all the principal buildings are visible, and the open country is seen beyond. A similar, but rather more extensive, view is that from the eminence just beyond, on which stands the military Magazine known as Wharton's Folly, and which Swift made the subject of one of his latest epigrams: "Behold a proof of Irish sense!

Here Irish wit is seen:

When nothing's left that's worth defence,
We build a magazine."

It is the kind of wit of which there has been too much in Ireland. While speaking of the general view of Ireland we may mention that the most extensive prospect (though more distant than this) is to be seen from Dunsink Hill, about three miles north-west of Dublin: it embraces not merely the city, but the noble bay of Dublin and the heights of Killiney. There is a road across the park, which leads by Observatory Gate to Dunsink Hill: the Observatory is on the hill. We must just mention, before leaving, that the gardens and menagerie of the Zoological Society are in Phoenix Park.

Quitting the Park by Knockmaroon Gate you come upon the Liffey, where flowing along a narrow but rich valley it is quite a picturesque stream. On either hand the banks form lofty uplands; those on the south are clothed with luxuriant foliage. Forwards are seen the heights of Woodland, the beautiful demesne of Colonel White. The northern slopes are for above a couple of miles entirely covered with plantations of strawberries; from them the city is supplied, but all the fruit is not sent into the city. The Strawberry Beds, as the whole tract is called, are one of the notable places of the vicinity of Dublin. During the season this is a favourite resort of holiday-makers, for whose accommodation there is a number of permanent spirit and refreshment huts built along the road-side. But Sunday is the day on which the Strawberry Beds are chiefly visited; and in fact there is a strawberry fair' held here every Sunday afternoon during the whole of the strawberry season, and for some time after the fruit has disappeared-indeed it is continued till Donnybrook fair, (August 26), which famous festival terminates the summer holidays in Dublin county. It is worth while for one observant of popular habits to come here for once, in order to obtain a notion of Pat's style of enjoyment. Besides the permanent houses, there are erected for the

occasion numerous booths, with painted signs, such as 'the King of the Brook,' 'the Old Harp,' &c.; flags are suspended from some, and the entrances are decorated with evergreens. From three in the afternoon-when the business of the day, confession, and perhaps a burying' or two, have been duly attended to-the 'boys' begin to flock hither, and continue to do so more and more till the close of day. The fun does not fairly commence till about six or seven o'clock. Then every booth is crowded; and the road is thronged with a noisy multitude. The day's supply of strawberries is by this time exhausted, but potheen and porter make amends, and are in sufficient demand. At the further end of each booth boards are laid down for dancing on, and fiddlers or pipers are provided. Dancing begins early, and is prosecuted vigorously. On the boards Pat is in all his glory-especially if he have a pretty partner; and it is quite surprising to see what neatlooking lasses attend these places: many of them are pretty, quiet, modest girls, and neat and trim in their dresses, yet they will be dancing along with sottish dirty fellows, who have not a sound garment upon them ;-but generally the Irish girls are much superior to the men of the same rank. The Irish dance is something national. An Irishman seems by dancing to work himself into a state of excitement much as an Indian does. As he warms the dance quickens, till Pat grows half delirious—of course, that is, if he has had a due allowance of whiskey. The fiddlers ply their elbows as quick as grasshoppers, but are quite unable to keep time with the wishes of the dancers, who seek to quicken them by some sufficiently odd expressions. "Arrah then move faster wid you, darling,"-" Go it, my boy, go it, more power to you: Och then get along if you love me: Och now go it, Dan-go it like blazes, and may the Almighty favour you!"-were some of the exclamations we noted.

Outside the booths there is a noisy crowd, composed of every variety of the finest pisantry.' Irish joking abounds, and the visitor must put up with his share of it. At every turn in the road may be seen an eager group clustered round a keen-looking rascal, who is sitting on the ground with a board on his knees, upon which a leather thong is coiled, while he is challenging one and another to try his luck. It is the old English game of pricking the girdle,' but it holds the place at Irish fairs and races of the English pea-andthimble game it is just as deceptive and as fraudulent, but the stakes are commonly pence instead of halfcrowns. The game seems always to find plenty of players. But not the least curious part of the spectacle is the vast number of beggars who are assembled. As very few respectable' people go to these strawberry fairs, it is evident that the ordinary frolicers must give alms plentifully to attract so many mendicants: and a close look at the peasantry in any part of Ireland will evince that this is one of the causes of the overwhelming amount of mendicancy. The poorest will give if he have anything to give-and receive if he have not. Mendicancy is not looked on as degrading: even those

who would themselves rather suffer than beg, are quite ready to bestow on the beggar while they possibly can.

Of course Pat cannot jig and tipple potheen without exhibiting as the result a little superfluous liveliness; but on the whole there does not seem to be very much quarrelling at these strawberry fairs, though there is a good deal of noise. Of shillelagh-work we saw little, and were told that there is seldom much now. Once these fairs were somewhat riotous assemblages;' but that section of Young Ireland which attends them has grown pacific-is tired, it may be, of physical-force doctrines-or overawed perchance by the number of policemen about. Be the cause what it may, the strawberry fairs are now pretty orderly; the police, too, clear out all the booths at half-past nine. But they cannot be visited without it being seen that they are a great evil: and it is impossible to loiter about at one for a few hours, without the feeling being deeply impressed on the mind that the reckless improvident habits of the lower classes of Irishmen are in truth almost more than a second nature,' and that the task of elevating their moral as well as physical condition is a most difficult one-a feeling, by the way, which everything that is seen of them in country as well as in town, at home or abroad, only serves to intensify. Yet this is the task that every Irishman seems emphatically called on now to address himself to with heart and soul. An entire social regeneration is the thing needed;—a mighty labour, and not to be accomplished by talking or fighting!

Continuing along the river-side by Woodlands, Lucan is soon reached. The whole of this part is extremely pleasant, and will afford much to interest those who have time sufficient to wander awhile about. The beautiful grounds of Woodlands, and those of Lucan House, in which are some ruins of a castle, are open to the stranger. Leixlip, a couple of miles further, is a decayed town, slovenly-looking, but picturesque: around it there is much fine scenery, and in the neighbourhood are many objects of interest. The chief attraction is the waterfall, or rather rapid, known as the Salmon Leap. In a fine ravine, the Liffey rushes over a ledge of bold black rocks, and then forces its way among massive detached fragments, that lie scattered along its bed. Leixlip Castle, which stands on the southern bank of the Liffey, is an ancient edifice, and forms with the foaming river a fine picture. About four miles from Leixlip is a place familiar by name to every one— Maynooth College. We have not seen it, and believe that in itself there is not much to be seen, as the buildings are quite unornamental. But on the way there is some very fine scenery: Carton, the extensive demesne of the Duke of Leinster, is especially celebrated. If the stranger visit Maynooth, he can return to Dublin by the Mullingar Railway: if he direct his steps southwards, he can return by the Great Southern and Western line. The nearest station from Leixlip on this line is at Celbridge, not far from which is Marley Abbey-or, as it is now called, Celbridge Abbey-where resided the unhappy Miss Vanhomrigh, Swift's Vanessa. In the grounds are still pointed out some of the laurels which