MUCKROSS ABBEY—LIMERICK—DUBLIN.

The time for visiting Muckross Abbey is most auspicious, the sun being still above the horizon; and the approaching tranquillity befits a trip of the kind. The ruins we have before inspected have been castles, or fort-like structures, designed as a home for some royal family, yet sufficiently strong and impregnable to ward off the attacks of a formidable enemy. What we are now to see is not a place designed for ease, comfort, and defence against ill conditions in this life, but rather to ensure pleasure and safety in the life to come.

The spot is about five miles from Killarney, and owned by Mr. Herbert, a gentleman held in the highest esteem by rich and poor. There is a neat gate-lodge, beyond which the visitor finds gratuitous admission at any hour before 6 p. m.; after that, and properly enough, a shilling is due to the gatekeeper. Our team left outside the gate, we pass through a grand avenue, and soon opens to view one of the finest and most enchanting mediÆval ruins to be found in Ireland,—exquisitely interesting in every part, and beyond the power of any one to adequately describe. The ruins are on a large knoll, surrounded by trees, conspicuous among which is the yew. These trees are formed much like large cedars, and resemble them in general outline; but the foliage is dark-green, so dark as at first sight to appear almost black. The branches are very large, and spread out into flat or fanlike masses, to near the ground.

The abbey was founded in 1140, and is now 742 years old. As we examine it, and more especially an ancient yew-tree, surrounded by the cloisters, known to have been there for more than 600 years, we are deeply impressed with the thought that we are communing with things relating to long past generations. It had its last repairs in 1602, was soon after abandoned, and is now without a roof, but is otherwise in good preservation. The ruins are very large and varied. They consist of both an abbey and a church. The cloisters belong to the former, and form a stone colonnade, some ten feet wide, connected by the arches with the open-to-the-sky area, some seventy-five feet square, in the centre of which stands the venerable yew already mentioned.

In the retirement and obscurity of these cloisters, walked and meditated and prayed hundreds,—and in the large aggregate of years it may be thousands,—to whom no other spot on the broad earth was, in their judgment, so good and befitting for their pious purpose. Here for centuries piety intensified, was transformed into superstition, germinated, blossomed, and fruited.

The different rooms of the abbey are still in good preservation, the entire structure being of masonry. The kitchen, with its immense fireplace, appears as it was centuries ago; and a little room about six feet square in one of the towers, and opening out of the kitchen, was occupied for eleven years as a sleeping-room by the hermit, John Drake, a hundred or more years ago. His patriarchal demeanor and solemn yet cheerful aspect obtained for him a people's veneration, and his piety and general seclusion excited general interest. To this day he is spoken of with scarcely less esteem than would be one of the early monks of the abbey itself. The floors of the rooms in the second story, the building being roofless, are well overgrown with the finest lawn grass. As one walks thoughtfully up the narrow, winding, stone stairs, into the dormitory, hospital, lavatory and other apartments,—in all but few in number,—the solid and venerable walls, the open sky above him, and the green grass (emblematic of human life in its best estate) beneath his feet,—under the influence of these, in spite of himself he becomes absorbed in meditation, and holds communion with those who lived and labored here centuries ago, and at length passed on to "the house appointed for all the living."

Reluctantly we left the abbey, and walked through the antique passage-ways and cramped stone stairway down into the church, where, in the midst of singular beauty, were the unwelcome evidences of inevitable decay. Here are the roofless walls of the nave, choir, and transept; here are windows elegant in design, with their stone traceries yet perfect. In places, the friendly, sombre ivy is spread, like a kind mantle of charity, covering defects of broken wall, and disguising the empty place of some fallen stone.

"How old all material is," we instinctively say; and yet how new the results of labor,—the vine, the shrub, the tree. How velvety and carpet-like is the grass on parts of this very floor, once pressed by the toil-worn, blistered feet of pious penance-doers, and even now a place of deposit for their mouldering bodies. Instead of desk or altar or font, of kingly stall or peasant's seat, are ancient mural stones. Here are monuments, the outward tokens of reverence and respect for the blue blood of royalty, or the saintship of those who hundreds of years ago—their work done, the checkered scenes of life over—went down to the "silent mansions of the dead."

In the piscina, in the lavatory, in the place for sacred vessels, the swallow unscared builds its nest; and along the altar-steps the lizard crawls, or basks in the sunshine unalarmed. Here sleep in their low, common—and yet uncommon—resting-places, they of the old dispensation, side by side with men of the new. O'Sullivan, O'Donohue, Mc'Carthy—nobles and kings of Munster, before whom the multitude trembled and reverentially bowed—mingle their dust with nineteenth-century leaders.

An incident, showing a notable instance of faithfulness in the performance of an agreement, may be related. At the time of the surrender of these ruins, it was stipulated that, in consideration of the fact of their being the repository of dust so peculiar and sacred, no Protestant should ever be buried within these walls; and while it would otherwise have been the choice of the late owner of the premises—Mr. Herbert the elder, Member of Parliament for Kerry and Chief Secretary of Ireland—to be here buried, this was not done. On elevated grounds outside the abbey precincts, a very large, ornamental, mediÆval, granite cross was erected by subscription of both Catholics and Protestants as a mark of love and esteem for him whom they call "One of the best of men."

Muckross Abbey Mansion, not far away, the seat of H. A. Herbert, Esq., the present owner of the grounds, is a fine stone building, of Elizabethan architecture. We knew of the Torc Cascade not far off; but as darkness had imperceptibly come upon us, and we were informed that little water was then passing over the fall, we did not go there, but listened to a description from our guide, who told us that the waters are precipitated in a sheet of splendid foam over a ledge of rocks, breaking into mist and spray; that the volume of water then resumes its hurried course through a deep ravine, narrow and irregular, through groups of fir and pine trees, and at last crosses the beautiful pleasure-grounds, till it falls into Muckross Lake.

At no time shall we probably have a more appropriate place to speak of the mountains of Ireland; and, at the risk of being charged with digression, we make the venture. Ireland is not a prairie-like country; yet, though for the most parts hilly and undulatory, it cannot be called mountainous. In this vicinity are the principal mountains of the Emerald Isle. It was for a long time thought that Mangerton, of the Macgillicuddy's Reeks, was the highest peak in Ireland, but a late survey makes Carrantual, of the same range, the highest. They are respectively 2,756 and 3,414 feet high. For the aid of those who may not be able to judge heights readily, yet are familiar with our New England mountains, we will say that the Grand Monadnock, at Jaffrey, N. H., is 3,186 feet high, and the Wachusett, at Princeton, Mass., 2,018 feet. The distance from Muckross to the summit of Carrantual is not far from five miles. The ascent is easy, and may be made with horses. Four miles from Muckross is what is called the Devil's Punch Bowl, a tarn or mountain lake, 2,206 feet above the level of the sea, and more than two thousand feet above the surface of the lakes, they being not far from two hundred feet above sea-level. It is an ovalish basin containing about twenty-eight acres, being two thirds the size of Boston Common, the latter having within its fence lines an area of a few feet over forty-three and three fourths acres. On all sides of the tarn are shelving cliffs. History has it that C. J. Fox swam entirely around it in 1772. Purple Mountain, opposite Macgillicuddy's Reeks, with the Gap of Dunloe between, is somewhat lower than these, but we have not the figures of its elevation. After our visit to the abbey, we returned to the hotel—in name only, Innisfallen—and remained over night. Having breakfasted, valise in hand we wended our way back through the village streets to the railroad station, and took passage to Limerick.

"And sure," says the reader, "that is another Irish city, and no mistake," and you are right. Our ride was exceedingly pleasant. The country was at its best, so far as vegetation was concerned,—especially its grass, for cattle-raising is the general farm occupation of the people. Here and there was a patch of potatoes, but no fruit-trees, and few good vegetable gardens. There were no stone walls or fences; if there were any land divisions they were hedges, and few at that.

The more one travels in foreign countries, the more he is convinced of the folly of so much fence-work as we have on New England farms. It is a waste of labor and material, an abuse of the ground itself, and a loss of the land, usually uncultivated, lying close against the partitions; and, in addition, the shade is objectionable. Of course some divisions are needed; but many of them exist, as a necessity, only in the farmer's imagination. There are but few New England farms where a large amount of labor and time are not worse than wasted in repairs of cross walls, set up by our fathers and grandfathers, which would be used to a much better purpose if employed in their demolition.

LIMERICK.

After a ride of five hours, having on the way passed back through Mallow, we arrived in Limerick, where we took rooms at the Royal George Hotel. Valises deposited, and the usual toilet operations gone through with, we walk out to see this place, so like Cork and Dublin. Limerick is the capital of the county of Limerick. It is on a narrow arm of the sea, or mouth of the River Shannon, with a population of 49,670. It consists of an English town, built on an island of the Shannon, and also an Irish one; and it has a suburb called Newton Perry, on the left bank of the river. These three portions are connected by five bridges, one of which, the Wellesley Bridge, cost $425,000.

We were pleasantly surprised with the appearance of the place, with the cleanness of the streets, and their good pavements, and the general order and substantial condition of all we saw. We speak now of the English portion, which is in fact the larger and principal division of the place. The surface is level, and the buildings are mostly of dark-colored brick. They are generally three or four stories high, without decoration, save simple brick cornices and arched doorways to the houses. There are solid and plainly finished fronts to the stores. The streets are of strikingly uniform appearance, presenting only here and there anything to attract notice. It has its slums like Cork; but of these we need not speak now.

We next begin our walk to the cathedral, for this was the first of the cathedrals we had reached. The greater part of the edifice, as it now stands, was built during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and so is six hundred years old. We readily found it, and came to one of the iron gates leading to the burial-ground in front of it. The dark and antiquated look of the old, massive structure impressed us favorably, and touched the right chord. We had seen castles and abbeys in fine ruin, but they belonged to a dead past. We were hungering for something ancient in which the living present was playing its part, and nothing feeds this hunger so well as a cathedral, especially those that, at the Reformation, passed over from Catholicism to Protestantism, as this has done.

After demonstrations at the iron gate the verger soon appeared, coming from the cathedral tower some hundred or more feet away. This burial-ground is the principal way of access to the cathedral, and has good walks from the gates to the edifice. The entire ground, perhaps a half-acre in extent, is neat and well kept, and has many ancient-looking gravestones and low slab-monuments. Our verger was a portly man of some sixty years, a master of the situation. An adept at the business, he soon understood our case and our nationality, and we thought we understood him. Both parties being in good humor and knowing their business, we proceeded from point to point over the edifice, he all the time trying to earn his fee of a shilling each, and we aiding him as best we could, by seeming to pay respectful attention, yet doing as much thinking outside of his thoughts as we chose, and in our own way.

The cathedral is large and imposing to view from the outside, irregular in outline, and antique-looking in the extreme. It is built of a dark-dinged, brownish colored stone, and is of Gothic architecture. It has a tower one hundred and twenty feet high, but no spire above it. At the time of our visit the building was under process of extensive restorations of the interior.

There are many ancient monuments in the various parts of the building, some of them centuries old. It would be interesting to allude freely to them, but our limits will not permit. One illustration must suffice, and that is quoted for its simplicity and quaintness. It was read off by our guide with a promptness and precision, both of words and declamation, that suggested familiarity, and that we were by no means the first who had heard it.

Memento Mory

Here Lieth Littell Samvell
Barington that Great vnder
taker of famiovs cittis
Clock and chims maker
He made his one time goe
erly and latter Bvt now
he is retvrned to god his creator
The 19 of November then he
Scest and to his memory
This Here is pleast by his
Son Ben 1693.

After a good examination of the venerable edifice and its appendages below, we ascended the tower, our verger accompanying,—for which an extra shilling each must be paid. From here we had an admirable view of the city; but nothing seen from above, or inside the cathedral below, interested us more than the chime of bells in the tower. Wherever the English language is spoken, these bells receive honorable mention, for it is these to which reference is made in that plaintive but sweet poetry,—and who has not sympathized with its sentiment?—

"Those evening bells, those evening bells,
How many a tale their music tells."

There are eight of them, each hung with a wheel to aid its ringing. Four of them are old, and the others comparatively new. The largest weighs about three thousand pounds.

Having said something in regard to the business part of the city and cathedral, we next take a look at other parts of the former, and consider a few items of history. Newton Perry, the new section, contains wide streets and promenades, and on these are fine residences of wealthy inhabitants, many of whom are merchants doing business in the city proper, which we will now speak of. George Street, a grand thoroughfare, continues on one side through Richmond Place to the Military Walk, and on the other along Patrick Street, through Rutland Street, to Matthew Bridge—named in honor of Father Matthew, the apostle of Temperance. Henry and Catherine streets are also important. In Perry Square is a column surmounted by a statue to Lord Monteagle, and in Richmond Place there is a bronze statue of Daniel O'Connell. St. John's Cathedral, Roman Catholic, completed in 1860, is a Gothic edifice, erected at a cost of $85,000.

The principal industries of the place are the manufacture of flax, army-clothing, lace, and gloves. The city carries on an extensive traffic, and, having hundreds of well-stocked stores, it is the wholesale as well as retail market for towns of the vicinity. There is at the border of the city the remains of a castle built in the time of King John, a somewhat dilapidated, but still noble structure. It has seven massive towers, which are connected by a wall of great thickness, and affords an example of the best Norman strongholds of the country, if not of the world, and inside the castle walls are buildings used as barracks.

The castle is situated in the Irish part of the city. Here are narrow and unclean streets, and a low grade of population, many of whom live in destitution; though, so far as degradation is concerned, we found less than in Cork. What struck us forcibly in this section was the number of buildings—one or two, and even three stories high—dilapidated, abandoned, and without roofs. They were the rule and not the exception. There seemed to be a dislike on the part of owners to take down an old house; but when, in the last extremity, it became absolutely unfit for a day's more occupancy, they preferred to abandon it, and let it tumble down piecemeal. On the floors, in holes in the walls, about the chimneys, weeds were growing, and especially the not inappropriately named snapdragon. Fine specimens of these, of all the usual colors, were in full bloom and growing luxuriantly.

Having spoken of the Irish and English parts of Ireland, an explanation may be in order. Soon after the union of the two countries at the beginning of the present century, English people of wealth and influence established themselves in the principal cities of Ireland. They built stores and dwelling-houses, and it is safe to say that now two thirds of each large city are occupied by English people, the Irish inhabitants remaining in their old quarters. This large preponderance of English influence and life gives to Ireland's large cities an English look, and it is only when one enters the Irish part that he feels he is not in an English town. This is notably true of Cork, Limerick, Dublin, and other southern cities; while Belfast and Londonderry, at the north, have had so much commerce and exchange of thought with Scotland as well as England, as almost to transform their citizens into English people.

In Limerick may be seen Norman walls and remains in abundance, some of them a thousand years old. The harbor is sufficiently capacious to accommodate a large amount of shipping, and extends a mile along the river, which has a breadth of four hundred and fifty feet, with here and there a semi-basin or dock.

Limerick was the last place of Ireland which surrendered to English rule, and only submitted to the Parliamentarians, under Ireton in 1651, after a determined resistance and gallant defence. During a siege in 1691 a large gun was planted on the top of the cathedral tower, and rendered most effectual service. "Muscular Christianity" was then at a premium. The old city has experienced and withstood many sieges, the last of which were those under Cromwell and William III. After several repulses, William, in 1691, offered advantageous terms to the besieged which were accepted by the troops then under the command of Sarsfield, Earl of Lucen, and the surrender was made to General De Ginkle. Part of the treaty was signed here, on a stone now called the Treaty Stone which, for safety and as a monument of interest, is now kept on a pedestal at the end of Thomond Bridge. The treaty guaranteed to Roman Catholics certain religious privileges and rights, and promised amnesty to all who took the oath of allegiance; but it was afterwards, to the disgrace of the victors, recklessly broken, especially in regard to the points first named, and to this day the place is called "the city of the broken treaty."

Limerick has from time immemorial been a military seat, and is now the headquarters of the southwest military district. Anciently it was the royal residence of the Irish kings.

There are within the limits of the city over twenty places of worship. It has many charitable and educational institutions, and much enterprise and business activity. Save the old and slummish portion, which is not of very great extent, and is under comparatively good control, it has a thoroughly English look, or, perhaps we may say, an old American look. We greatly enjoyed our visit, and were happily disappointed; for our minds were disabused of opinions we before erroneously entertained, and supposed to be true, concerning this famous city.

DUBLIN.

At 1.30 p. m., on Friday, April 26, we left for Dublin, and after a ride of four hours reached that city. The landscape on the way was interesting, though not presenting anything very picturesque or romantic. We were, however, continually impressed with the fact that Ireland is well named the Emerald Isle; for not a bare acre is to be seen, and over hill and dale luxuriant vegetation is found.

We could but feel sorry that the laws of primogeniture and entailment of property yet prevail, and that England thus deprives herself and poor Ireland, her disconsolate child, of the rich blessings of an interested and land-loving, as well as soil-working people. The land is owned by a few lords. Estates must be kept entire, and so handed down through the male heirs from generation to generation. No absolute sale is possible, and a homestead can rarely be bought. The farm, be it little or great, cannot be owned by the tiller, but is held by the lord of the domain. An estate may not be divided among his descendants, but must pass to each successive heir in its entirety. It cannot be sold to those who would use it and improve its value. Without homesteads, with no prospect of anything but unsatisfying labor, with scarce the surety of earning a scanty subsistence,—there is, among the common people, a lack of interest in agricultural efforts. Thousands of laborers leave this land, the fairest on which God's impartial sun shines; few are left to care for the soil; and so, as the shortest cut across this field of deliberately created difficulty, nearly all the land is laid down to grass. In our ride of more than one hundred miles, hardly one fruit-tree was seen, or one nice garden. The country suffers for want of skilled yeomanry, to whom anticipation of ownership of the soil is "a cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night," to pilot them out of the bondage they are in. The laws of justice and divine compensation are, however, at work, and change for the better is at hand; amendment after amendment, even now foreshadowed, will come, for He who ruleth over all will "turn and overturn," "till he whose right it is shall reign."

But to return to the Queen City of Ireland,—its greatest place socially and commercially speaking.

Dublin is finely situated at the head of Dublin Bay. It is built solidly, on comparatively level land, on both sides of the River Liffey, running from west to east. The city has a population of 242,722; including the adjoining suburb, 295,841. The river is navigable to Carlisle Bridge at the centre of the city, and from the mouth of the river up to the bridge it has good docks and wharves. Its commerce is varied and extensive. Unfortunately there was at the entrance of the harbor a sand-bar, on which, at low water, the depth varied from nine to twenty-four feet. This is now no great source of annoyance, as a portion of it has been removed, and large ships, taking advantage of the tides, may come up to the wharves.

A great part of the city is regularly built, having wide and well-paved streets, and magnificent stores and public buildings. They are of splendid architecture, and of every style and kind, from the classic Greek and Roman, to the elegant Renaissance, and from the Gothic of antiquity to the most refined of our own day. The latter, however, in its best estate,—save perhaps in its new grouping and combination of the best of the old ideas, with a rejection of the questionable features—is not much in advance of its original sources.

Like all large places, there is a slum where the people are poor and low; but in these respects Dublin is not the equal of Cork and some other parts of Southern Ireland.

As we go north towards Belfast and Londonderry we find an advance in what constitutes a higher and better civilization. The influence of the people of the North of England, and more especially of Scotland, has modified it. It may be said that where inflexible Episcopacy, acting on Catholicism, has prevailed, different results have come. While the good but ignorant Catholic has no affinity for Presbyterianism, he has a great respect for the industrious, well-appearing, just-dealing Scotchman, and he entertains an active suspicion in regard to the more formal Episcopalian, who has ruthlessly, as he thinks, appropriated the grand old churches where rest the bones of revered saints, and where his fathers worshipped for many generations. Some especial influence certainly has modified Northern Ireland's action, nature, and life. There is a deal more implied in the phrase North of Ireland, and in its antithesis, Far-downer, than appears to the casual observer. There is no city of Ireland where wealth and poverty are more contiguous, and where aristocracy and democracy are nearer neighbors, than at Dublin.

Nine bridges, two of which are iron, cross the river, and a magnificent avenue nine miles long, called the Circular Road, environs the city. The Bank of Ireland, near the college, is a low but very large building, and was once the House of Parliament. Trinity College opposite—and both are in the very centre of the most crowded business portion of the city—has fine stone buildings, with large and elegantly kept lawns, one opening into the other. The institution was founded by Pope John XXII., closed by Henry VIII., and reopened by Queen Elizabeth, who incorporated it in 1592.

Of the many public buildings, such as hospitals, museums, libraries, it is useless to speak. They are noble institutions, and worthy the capital of even England itself. It has a very large pleasure-ground called Phoenix Park, on the edge of the city. This park is well laid out, and is for Dublin what Central Park is for New York, or Fairmount for Philadelphia. There is in it one of the largest and most admirably kept zoÖlogical gardens of the world. Glasnevin Cemetery, their Mount Auburn or Greenwood, is an elegant city of the dead. Here repose the remains of Daniel O'Connell, under a high, round tower visible from all parts of the grounds. The profusion of sweet-scented lime-trees, and the taste and beauty of the scenery and artificial work, enable it to vie with any cemetery in Europe. In a city like Dublin, where there is so much that is good and great, one is tempted to enlarge the range of his thoughts, and is loth to leave the spot.

Before speaking of the Cathedral of St. Patrick, we will give a brief history of cathedral service itself. Till the time of Constantine, Christians were not allowed to erect temples. Early, churches meant only assemblies, not buildings; and by cathedrals were meant their consistories, or places of meeting. It was in 312 that this emperor first granted absolute toleration to Christians. In 325 the Council of Nice was convened, and made, under his sanction, an open declaration that Christianity be thereafter the recognized official religion of the land. The earliest record we have of a distinctive cathedral service is near the end of the fourth century; although there are traces of it at an earlier date, too indistinct to be reliable. St. Basil, at the close of the fourth century says:—

The people flocked to the churches before daylight, first to pray on bended knees, then rising to sing psalms, either in alternate chorus, or one chanting, others following in an under-voice; and this was done in all Egypt, Libya, Thebes, Palestine, Arabia, and Syria.

In seventy years the Christians had many church edifices, or ecclesia cathedralis (church meeting-places), and a pretty well developed and organized prayer and singing service; but cathedral or church service did not come to great perfection till the days of Gregory the Great, who was born a. d. 540, and died in 604. Chanting had its origin in the church of Antioch during the episcopate of Lontius, a. d. 347-356. Theodoret informs us that Flavianus and Diodorus divided the choir into two parts, and made them sing the Psalms of David alternately, and that this method began first at Antioch. At the Council of Laodicea, held between 360 and 370, it was determined that there should be canonical singers, who should sing out of written books. We may imagine something of the state of affairs before the order passed; for Balsamon says that, prior to the convening of this council, the laity would many times, and at their pleasure, begin to sing such hymns and songs in the church as were crude and unusual. To obviate this the canon was made, ordering that none should begin to sing but those whose office it was to do so, the laity having permission, however, to sing with them in the entire service; and so was inaugurated our modern congregational singing, to be led, however, by an appointed choir. Choir-singing was carried into Rome in 380, under Pope Damasus; and in the time of Gregory the Great, about 620, it was brought to great perfection. Gregory sent Austin to introduce it into England. He found the clergy there unwilling to receive it, and it is said that he caused twelve hundred of them to be slaughtered at once. In 670 Theodore was sent by Vitalian to fill the See of Canterbury, and he succeeded in introducing the cathedral service; and he also has the credit of introducing organs into divine worship. The year 679 is the earliest certain date of cathedral worship in Great Britain.

In France Gregorian chant-work began about the year 787, and was patronized by Charles the Great. In the reigns of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. thirty-two commissioners were appointed to examine all canons, constitutions, and ordinances, provincial and synodal, and they declared against a cathedral service. The judicious and pious Hooker, ceremony-loving, and jealous of the interests of the church, yet under the ban and interdicted, could not suppress his thought, and he says:—

Cathedrals are as glasses, wherein the face and very countenance of apostolical antiquity remaineth, even as yet to be seen, notwithstanding the alterations which the hand of time and the course of the world hath brought.

So the work continued till a final establishment of present customs, and Seymour says of cathedrals and their service as at present carried on:—

They serve as parish churches, only on a more elaborate scale; and there can be no valid objection raised to their maintenance, except by those who condemn an intoned service, and the introduction of a highly cultivated musical choir. The canons preach in turn, and, provided the preaching is orthodox and purely evangelical [a hit this, undoubtedly, at Dean Stanley, Canon Farrar, and others of like sentiment], and the old story of Christ's blood and righteousness and substitution is set forth as enough for all the spiritual necessities of mankind, there can be no just grounds of complaint against the peculiar mode of our present cathedral worship.

St. Patrick's being the first cathedral in which we attend services, the foregoing statement is made, preparatory to a consideration of this and other cathedrals we are to visit. It should be remembered that in all of them the service is intoned or sung, with the exception of the sermon itself, that being a part of the service only on Sundays or other important days. So strong is the force of habit, that the sermon also is generally delivered in a drawling, monotonous tone. This was a marked feature of the style of Dean Stanley in sermons delivered during his visit to America. Very strange did his elocution sound to American ears, and it was only tolerated because it came from a man so really great and truly honored.

St. Patrick's Cathedral is one of the most interesting churches in Ireland, and hours can be spent with pleasure and advantage in the grand old structure. It is said that St. Patrick here erected a place of worship, and baptized his converts with water taken from a well in the floor of the present cathedral, which is still shown to the visitor. As evidence of its antiquity as a place of worship, and of the importance and character of the original building, we have it as a well attested fact that in 890—almost a thousand years ago, and four and a half centuries after the establishment of worship here by St. Patrick, and the building of his church—Gregory of Scotland, with his adherents, attended worship here.

The present edifice, the seat of the Bishop of Dublin, was begun by Archbishop Comyn in 1190. It was doubled in its capacity by Archbishop Minot, who held the See in 1370, repairs on the old cathedral, and the extension, being necessitated by a fire which destroyed a large portion of the building in 1362. The edifice is of dark or blackish stone. It is irregular in outline, being cruciform in plan, with nave, choir, transepts, lady-chapel and porch.

A number of monuments are scattered about the interior, among them a tablet to the memory of the Duke of Schomberg, with an inscription by Jonathan Swift, at one time Dean of the cathedral. In another part are mural tablets, high up from the floor, to the memory of the Dean, who died Oct. 19, 1745, and was here buried. Near by is the monument to Mrs. Hester Johnson, the Stella of his poetry. A monument of note near the door commemorates Boyle, Earl of Cork, who died 1629. It is of a peculiar design, and attractive by its quaint oddity. It is of black marble, ornamented in parts by wood mouldings and carving, which were painted in positive colors, but are now dull and somewhat obscured. It represents the earl and his wife in recumbent positions, surrounded by their sixteen children. These figures are of wood, and carved in a grotesque style, barbaric enough to be pleasing examples of sculpture to a "Heathen Chinee."

The exterior of the cathedral presents a very aged appearance, and the two parts of the structure, erected by the two bishops in 1190 and 1370, are distinctly marked. The tower has plain buttresses at the corners, each ending in embattled turrets. A low, stone spire above this is attached to the section built by Bishop Comyn, and was erected some time after the other parts of the cathedral. Each part is of Gothic architecture, and is of the style prevailing at the period of its erection. Elaborate decoration does not appear in any part, and as the edifice fronts on a cramped, narrow street, and is near the surrounding buildings, no extended view of it can be obtained.

In 1860 the late Sir B. L. Guinness,—the noted brewer of Dublin, whose celebrated ales and porter are known the civilized world over,—at his own expense, undertook a complete restoration of the cathedral; and after years of continued labor, by a large body of workmen, the whole was finished at a cost of $720,000. Changes were made in the interior by the removal of modernish screens, and the exterior, while it has the same antiquated look, is in perfect repair. The interior with its lofty groined ceiling and arches, its stately columns, its rich oaken stalls, its beautiful stained glass windows, the great organ at the left of the communion table, the rich pulpit,—especially dedicated by Mr. Guinness to the late Dean Peckham as a memorial,—these combine to make the venerable structure rank well with many of the cathedrals of England. We hardly need to say that it is under the administration of the Church of England.

This was our first Sunday on land, April 28, and we decided that we would attend worship here in the forenoon. The Bishop of Dublin, and his canons, curates, and robed adult choir, were in attendance, and the cathedral was about one third filled. The service, as we afterwards found to be the universal custom in England, was intoned instead of read. It was disturbed, too, by the constant echoes; and, being unfamiliar with an intoned service, we were but poorly interested, and hoped for better things in the sermon, which was by one of the canons. It proved to be a weak statement of common things, a labored effort to prove what all admitted at the start. We would, however, speak lightly of no religious work, and were thankful for the treat we had enjoyed of seeing this time-honored sanctuary in use, and that we had listened to its grand music, and also to even a poor rendition of its beautiful service.

At 2 p. m. we are out again for a ramble, this time to visit the fine grounds and buildings of the Royal Hospital, built by the celebrated architect of St. Paul's Cathedral at London, Sir Christopher Wren, in 1669. The building is large, though but two stories in height, and has ample grounds, and two-hundred-year-old avenues, well shaded by large trees. The institution is now used as a military station. We were freely admitted to the principal parts, were delighted with the old and good portraits in the ancient dining-hall,—and inexpressibly so with the chapel, for here are to be seen transcripts of the mind of Wren. He appears to best advantage as a designer, when he undertook to make pulpits and altar-pieces; and here, about the large circular-headed altar-window, he has almost excelled himself. This, like all the stall work, is finished in oak, and is as elaborate and as perfect as though of modern construction, though it is more than two hundred years old.

Reluctantly we left these hallowed premises for a walk in the great Phoenix Park near by, and in the ZoÖlogical Garden. On our walk home to the hotel, we made it in our way to pass the companion church of St. Patrick, the other cathedral; for, incredible as it may seem, Dublin has another Protestant Episcopal cathedral-church, one scarcely inferior to St. Patrick's in renown. It is the venerable Church of the Holy Trinity, more commonly known by the name of Christ Church Cathedral. As is well known, a cathedral is so called because it is the seat of a bishop. Of course Dublin has but one bishop, and he is at St. Patrick's. The edifice we are to describe has, in turn with St. Patrick's, been the bishop's church, and from that circumstance the name has obtained its present use.

This edifice is of great interest and antiquity. According to the "Black Book of Christ's Church," a very ancient record, its vaults, or what is now the crypt, were built by the Danes before the first visit of St. Patrick to Dublin in the fifth century, but who is erroneously reported to have celebrated mass in them. The present edifice, in comparison with these vaults, is quite modern, for it was not built till five hundred years after; but enough of antiquity remains to excite our admiration, for this building was begun in the year 1038,—845 years ago, 152 years before the building of St. Patrick's, and about half-way between the date of the birth of Christ and our own day.

The statement that St. Patrick said mass in the crypt of this cathedral is simply a legend, for he had ended his ministry early in the fifth century. A sort of tavern was kept for centuries in this crypt; while services were being performed above, the votaries of Bacchus were adoring their god beneath. It was no uncommon thing in that age for churches to provide accommodation for the tramps and bummers of the time. As late as the close of the sixteenth century, the benches at the door of Old St. Paul's, London, were used by beggars and drunkards to sleep on, and the place was surrendered to idlers of all descriptions.

Christ Church Cathedral was greatly enlarged by Lawrence O'Tool, who, in 1163, changed the canons, originally secular, into the regular canons of Arras, as they were termed. Next, Strongbow, the Earl of Pembroke, and Fitzstephen, both Norman adventurers, made repairs and additions about the year 1170; and again Raymond le Gros, at a yet later day, added the steeple, choir, and two small chapels. In 1190, but twenty years after, it was practically rebuilt by John Comyn, who at the same time was building St. Patrick's; and about the year 1360 John de St. Paul erected the chancel. With occasional repairs the edifice remained as it was, 523 years ago, till a few years since, when great dilapidation had taken place, and extensive restorations were needed. Not to be outdone by Mr. Guinness at St. Patrick's, Henry Roe, Esq., the well-known distiller of Dublin, emulating the example of his friend, ordered, at his own expense, complete repairs on both the exterior and interior, costing a full million of dollars. The work was done under the architectural supervision of G. A. Street, and paid for by Mr. Roe as the work proceeded. At the time of our second visit, May 2, although not entirely finished, the building had been reopened, and an assemblage of the most distinguished prelates of the Episcopalian order held a four days' service, largely musical, at the grand opening, of which we speak hereafter.

The building, though very massive and suggestive of strength, is not beautiful in proportions or decoration. It has a clumsy look, but is consistent in design throughout. The interior has the same appearance. While it is finished in the highest style of workmanship, and in the best possible imitation of the original plan, it is mainly pleasing in variety of design, its thoroughness of work, and in the faithful representation it probably gives of the cathedral as it was centuries ago. When one looks at the nicely cut stone and fine finish, he can but believe that it is a vast improvement in workmanship on its original self. It has many ancient monuments of the quaintest sort, often with rude and grotesque designs.

Conspicuous among these is one of the Earl of Pembroke, or, as he is more commonly called, Strongbow, the Norman invader, who died in 1166. It represents the renowned warrior in a recumbent posture, clothed in mail armor, with his wife Eva by his side. Reasonable doubts exist of the authenticity of the monument. Its honors are divided between him and the Earl of Desmond, the Lord Chief Justice, who was looked upon with suspicion and jealousy on account of his kindness to the Irish people, and in consequence of this jealousy was beheaded at Drogheda in 1497. This monument was removed from its original location, by order of Sir Henry Sidney, in 1569.

This cathedral is a place of resort for those who are interested in the elaborate service performed every Sunday forenoon. It has a lawn on one side of it, somewhat larger than any at St. Patrick's. This is well fenced in from the side street, and parallel with the side of the cathedral; but the rear end and side are in close contiguity to common buildings, and the neighborhood is entirely made up of ordinary houses of brick or stone, which are filled with tenants, often having families on each floor. The streets are narrow, and while not remarkably dirty, they are anything but tidy in appearance. This portion of the city, and St. Patrick's neighborhood—which is not more than a five minutes' walk away—are probably the oldest settled parts of the city; a low population having taken possession still retain their foothold, as they do about the great churches at Cork and Limerick.

There are many interesting facts shown on the ancient records of this cathedral. In 1434 the mayor and some distinguished citizens of Dublin did penance, by walking barefoot through the streets to the cathedral, for having committed manslaughter; for taking the Earl of Ormonde prisoner "in a hostile manner;" for breaking open the doors of St. Mary's Abbey, dragging out the abbot, "and carrying him forth like a corpse, some bearing him by the feet, and others by the arms and shoulders."

In 1450 a parliament was held in the cathedral by Henry VI.; another was held in 1493. In 1497 liberty from arrests, and all other molestations, was granted, by the city of Dublin, to those who should come to visit any shrine or relic of this edifice. In 1528 the prior of this cathedral, with the priors of St. John of Jerusalem and of All Saints, caused two plays to be acted, on a stage erected by Hoggin Green, representing the Passion of the Saviour, and the several deaths the apostles suffered. This was a sort of Irish Oberammergau play.

Seven years later, in 1535, a great change in public sentiment had come; for in this year George Brown, an Augustin friar who had been consecrated bishop, removed all images and relics from this and the other churches of the diocese, and in their stead placed the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments in gilded frames. In 1538 the Baculus Jesu, or holy staff, said to have belonged to St. Patrick, and deposited here in 1180, was publicly burned. In 1554 Bishop Brown, who was the first Protestant prelate of Dublin, was deprived of his office by Queen Mary. Four years later another reaction had taken place. In 1559 Parliament was held in the cathedral; the Act of Uniformity was passed; the Litany was sung in English, for the first time in Ireland, before the Earl of Sussex, the Lord Lieutenant; and a large English Bible was chained in the middle of the choir, free for the people to read. By order of Queen Elizabeth, Thomas Lockwood, the dean, removed all Popish relics and images, that had been restored in the days of Queen Mary in 1570. Penance was performed here by Richard Dixon, Bishop of Cork, who was also deprived of his See for gross immoralities. In 1633 the Lord-deputy sent an urgent letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, asking him to prevent a longer use of the vaults under the cathedral as ale and tobacco shops.

In 1738 a peal of bells was cast by Abel Rudhall of Gloucester, England, and placed in the tower. He had cast the Sweet Bells of Shandon at St. Ann's, Cork. He was also the maker of the bells at Christ Church, Boston, which were cast but six years later, in 1744. There were at the cathedral originally but eight bells. Five have recently been added. In 1821 George IV., and in 1868 the Prince and Princess of Wales, attended service in the cathedral.

All cathedrals have a similar history. A cathedral's history is but a record of humanity's march through the centuries, through superstition, blood, and contest, onward and upward to advanced and yet advancing conditions, till finally—if there be truth in divine writ or the aspirations of humanity—"the kingdoms of this world shall become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ."

Sackville Street is a splendid business avenue leading from Carlisle Bridge. It is full one hundred feet wide, and filled with a hurrying, Broadway or Washington Street-like population. On the left stands the classical portico of the post-office, composed of six large Ionic columns, and their entablature and pediment. It is surmounted by figures of Hibernia, Mercury, and Fidelity. In front, at the centre of the street, is Nelson's monument, a splendid column 112 feet high,—exclusive of the crowning statue of the hero of Trafalgar, which is in itself 13 feet in height. This is a fine piece of sculpture, and is from the studio of a native sculptor, Thomas Kirk. The monument was erected by public subscription and cost over $34,000. In consequence of the general levelness of the city of Dublin, from the top of this column, though not of very great height, may be seen almost the entire surrounding country, from the Mourne Mountains in the county of Down on the north, around to the Wicklow Mountains on the south. Spread out before the observer are the plains of Meath and Kildare, extending far westward, and parted by the hills of Dublin and its bay; and to the eastward appears the Irish Sea.

The Custom House and the Four Courts of Dublin are immense structures, of classical architecture, and well decorated with statuary. On the former are statues representing Navigation, Wealth, Commerce, Industry, Europe, Asia, America, and Africa. Other parts have the arms of Ireland. There is a fine allegorical representation of Britannia and Hibernia in a great marine shell, with a group of merchantmen approaching, and Neptune driving away Famine and Despair.

The Court House has on the upper angle of its great portico pediment a statue of Moses, and at the lower ends statues of Mercy and Justice. On other parts are Wisdom and Authority. The great entrance hall is 64 feet in diameter; at the centre stands a colossal statue of Truth, bearing in her upraised hand a torch, from which issue gas jets for illuminating the rotunda.

We attended a court session. The rooms were cramped in size, and dark from the few smoked and unwashed windows. A peculiar impression was made, reminding us of a by-gone custom and age, when we saw the lawyers,—or barristers as they are called,—old and young, arrayed in loose black alpaca robes, open in front and flying as they walk, and wearing gray wigs of scrupulously curled hair. These are for sale in especial stores, and their use is imperative when one addresses the judge of any save the lowest common police court.

Previous anticipations of what was to be seen in Ireland's great metropolis were in the main realized. We expected, however, to see more Irish and less English elements. The city is quite American in appearance. Except for a more durable and classical look to its buildings, and the cut-stone embankments on both sides of the river; excepting also its heavier horse-cars and their roads,—tramways, as they are called,—little is seen that may not recall our large cities, especially Buffalo and Cincinnati. In fact, we were strongly reminded of these by the stores, houses, and streets, the quantity of business doing, and the average appearance of the people. Sunday was observed, much as it is in Boston or New York, by a general suspension of business, the streets being filled with well-dressed, orderly people. Bells often saluted the ear, horse-cars and omnibuses were well patronized, and the parks were visited by thousands, all in a state of sobriety that we are not sure of seeing in a large American city. We now for a time leave the city, but in another chapter shall speak of it again.