Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1875-08-13
DUBLIN AS 1T is.
The Irish Capital as Seen by AmerI
cnn Eyes.

We are now in Sackville street, in
what the Irish delight to call the finest
street in the world. Well, it is as far
behind the Strand in London as the
Strand is behind Broadway, New York
It's none the less fine street. too wide
and not long enough; but you can't
help being impressed. Some Of the
shops are very fine, towit that Of Mr..
McSwiney, the present Lord Mayor
This building, am told, was erected in
1852, in which year the Dublin Exhibi-
ton was opened. Mr.. McSwiney wished
to have his place open when visitors
came for the Exhibition, and he there
fore employed two sets Of hands, one
for the dsy and one for the night. This
sort Of thing in Dublin is so rare that it
is remembered three and twenty years
after date and quoted as a marvel OF
enterprise and ingenuity. Opposite this
house is the general postoffice, one of
the most beautiful aud at the same time
magnificent structures | have ever seen.
| must say there is nothing like tin Lon
don, neither have | seen its superior in
| New York. lt is granite, and stands 225
feet high and more than 300 deep. A
series otsuperb columns supportt the front
portico, and on the summit are figures
of Hibernis, Mercury and Fidelity. The
, entire telegraphic business of the city is
! transacted ia this building, and from it
run to the four principal districts under
ground passages, through which are for
wsrded by pneumatic pressure the mes
sages as they are to be delivered.
Strange to say, on inquiry from more
than one of the more intelligent classes
all knowledge OF these tubes was denied.
Incuriosty would appear to be charac-
teristic. Nelson's column is a very noble
monument, and would adorn any city.
On massive pedestal we see Copenha.
gen, St. Vincent, the Nile, Trafalgar;
then we have a Doric column, delcately
futed, and on the top colossal statue
of the great English sailor. The town
above this portion Of Sackville street is
neither handsome nor busy, and there.
fore is uninvitng.
THE CATHEDRAL
Naturally anxious to see St. Patrick's
Cathedral, hackneyed carmau is char
tered, and for sixpense and the privilege
of crossing and grumbling, and for
shilling and q shower OF blessings, we
are set down in presence Of the venera-
BILE pile. 1t is indeed worthy its world.
wide fame. 1t is a mass of startling
beauty. 1t stands upon several acres of
ground, and rises, including the steeple,
to hight of 250feet. From the summit
Of the tower one gets a wondrously odd
view of Dublin, a view which shows more
bad states than any city in the world,
and more church steeples than you might
count in mouth. Around the pile
itself you see the most squalid pow
erty. A fog of filth seems to hover
over the whole district the air is heavy
with foulness; the lanes are scarcely
passable; the streets are dirty and dis
heartening to the last degree; the clothes
Of the people swing from poles thrust out
of the windows Sorry specimens of
fruit and vegetables pollute the street at
one side fish is screamed over at the
other. This cannot be called mere blot
on the city of Dublin; it is disgrace to
civilization When one thinks of the
glorious history OF the cathedral, when
at q glance one can see the very house
in which Swift lived the best and worst
Of his life, when you are told that pri-
vate citizen spent el50000 sterling in
renovating and rebuilding this pile, one
is ashamed to look at the intolerable
gutter which passes up to the very
threshold. A fine peal of bells which
play various tunes reminds the poor
wretches who dwell in these dens of
music and the fight of time, but soul is
not proved by one nor courage by the
other. Descending from this unhappy
eminence, we come into the nave Of the
church. 1t is marvel Of ancient beauty.
Fine monuments stand beneath the
groined arches, and mural memorials
here and there tell Of minor men and
their deeds. Before one of these the sex.
ton is certSn to linger Beneath your
feet now lies the dust of Jonathan
Swift, the wonder Of his time
and ours. You think of Thackerays
acknowledgment of his genius, 20
vast genius magnificent genius,
genius wonderfully bright and
dazzling and strong-to seize to know,
to see, to fash it upon falsebood and
seortch it into perdition, to penetrate
into hidden motives and expose the
black thoughts of men-an awful, an
evil spirit" From these words you turn
to the dirty black stone-for it is dirty
the only memorial of Swift in these
Kingdoms; you read his own epitaph,
written by his own hand, his birth, his
age, his fate, his sleep where savage
wrath can lacerate his heart no more"
From this you turn to other objects Of
interest in the aisle. Above your head
are the banners of the knights of St.
Patrick their swords aud helmets, and
crests and notices. Banner aud sword
and helmet and crest and motto are one
aud all as venerable as dirt can make
them. You cannot get near enough to
see them all, for you are shut off by an
iron gate. On inquiry you learn that this
gate is the dividing line between certain
persons and certain other persons who
come to worship here on Sundays. Even
in church there is spobbery. The pews
are locked up and bolted in manner
quite sufficient to account for the con-
gregation which l saw, and which is, |
understand, the congregation every day
1t numbered exactly three persons.
DAME sTREET-THE BANK.