streets of the cities in that country. These women of the town commence their walks immediately after night-fall, and exhibit a most obtrusive and unblushing effrontery.

Early this morning sir Richard Musgrave called. He was out when I left a letter yesterday, but returned the call in the course of the day, and communicated also by note. At the present interview, his conversation was copious and entertaining. He descanted largely upon the growing power and wealth of my country, and spoke of its character in a strain of higher eulogium than I expected from one of the baronet's avowed political bias. Sir Richard is a zealous loyalist; and has uniformly and powerfully cooperated with ministers in repressing the spirit of disaffection in Ireland. During an eventful portion of that period of turbulence and terror which prevailed anterior to the union, he was a member of the Irish Parliament, and held also the office of high sheriff for the county of Waterford, in each of which situations he lent all his influence in strengthening the general government, in its endeavours to avert the evils which menaced the country. His memoirs of the rebellion of 1798' evince his own view of the causes and policy which preceded that terrible crisis, and the active interest which he took in the events which ensued. In the course of conversation this morning, he early entered upon a favourite subject, the discussion of the Roman Catholic question, which still greatly agitates the kingdom. He showed me the autograph of a written oath which he procured a day or two ago, taken by some catholics of the lower orders, binding them to use all means in their power to put down every thing like heresy, by which is meant a difference in profession and sentiment from the church of Rome. The tenour of the paper implied a readiness to resort to the sword or faggot for effecting their object so far as these sanguinary remedies should be found compatible with the safety of the individual who might employ them. The baronet adverted to an essay on the Roman catholic question, detailing some curious facts, which he recently published in the Hibernian Journal,' (with which paper he has long plied an active commerce,) and in a walk which I afterwards took with him, he procured for me a copy of it at the printing office. Glancing my eye over it this evening I find ample evidence that the mitred representatives of the papal power in Ireland have thought themselves the ministers of a church militant indeed. Not a few have fanned the flames of rebellion; and among them, no less than three actual or titular primates, seven bishops, and two vicars apostolic have, since the reign of Elizabeth, either fallen in open arms, or been executed for their treasons.

To day, among other objects, we have visited the parliament house, a magnificent building of great size, now converted into the bank, and a number of public offices, the custom house, which is no ways inferiour in size and splendour, and the finest which I have seen in any part of the empire: and the lying-in hospital

where poor women are attended in child birth, and have every relief which their situation may require, or which can be afforded. This last is a most charitable institution, and reflects the highest credit upon the good feelings of the people in Dublin. We visited most of the wards, and were struck with the number of comforts provided for the poor females who were fortunate enough to be made inmates of the institution. The building itself is rather a palace than a hospital, and opens behind into the beautiful walks and shrubberies of Rutland square. The chapel is highly finished; too much so indeed. Ornaments are profusely lavished upon it, and do not comport with that grave and solemn character which we desire to attach to a place of religious worship.

It is impossible to walk the streets of this city and repress a feeling of admiration on beholding the numerous costly structures which meet the eye in every direction. In the expense and elegance of its public works, Dublin excels, I should think, every city of equal size in Europe. Some of these are too fine, I mean, for Ireland. This is forcibly brought home by the many objects of a widely different description which are continually presented to view: objects which painfully attest the unnatural condition of things not simply in Dublin, but in the country of which it is the capital. Nor is the impression diminished by the location of these different buildings. The finest edifices of which Dublin boasts are scattered over the city with little seeming attention to regularity or fitness of place. The contrast produced is often very disagreeable. It is not uncommon to see a small comfortless hovel adjoining some large and stately pile, and acting as a silent commentary upon that mixture of opulence and want, of splendor and mean

*The writer of these sketches has since visited some of the best cities of the continent; no one of which, in his opinion, may disdain a comparison with Dublin. Making a proper allowance for the disparity of members and wealth, it yields not, he thinks, to the French metropolis. Similar objects, also to those which serve as foils to the better structures of Dublin, are every where seen in Paris. The dwellings of the poorer classes in the latter city exhibit little enough of the appearance of comfort. Of its streets too, excepting the Boulevards, there is not one which can compare with Dame, Westmoreland or Sackville streets, not to mention several others little inferior. Two of the best streets in Paris are the Rue du Richelieu, and the Rue St. Honore, and a visitor might be safely challenged to find in all Dublin one which offers the foot passenger such miserable accommodations as either of these. In the opinion also of the writer that native politeness which has been said to distinguish the lowest of the Parisian populace has either been greatly exaggerated or was nearly expunged during the tragic scenes of the Revolution. If what the panegyrists of France asserted upon this point during the past century, and what lady Morgan has recently repeated, be true, the citizens of its boasted metropolis have at least evinced how soon they could forget the rules of a petit maitre politesse, and be schooled in the syntax of a barbarous and blood-thirsty philosophy. From what actually fell under the traveller's observation, he is persuaded that the canaille of Paris have now the properties, as they have uniformly had the elements, of a character more foul and savage than ever disgraced the mobs of London or of Dublin.

ness, of parade and wretchedness, which is too conspicuous in various other objects of daily observation.

We dined to day with Mr. D, the gentleman whom I have mentioned as having accompanied us from Dundalk to Dublin. The attentions of this gentleman to us, considering the circumstances under which our acquaintance was formed, are characteristic of the frank and confiding hospitality peculiar to the Irish. It struck me as a good rule when I commenced my travels not to mention, unless some desirable opportunity should present, the country from which I came, especially in any of the public vehicles. A foreigner is saved thereby no little extortion at the inns where he chances to stop, (a matter of some moment in such a country as this:) and he has an opportunity of gaining more satisfactory information in regard to the opinions entertained of his own nation than he could by openly declaring the land of his origin. Such information is seldom expected or desired. An American is not catechised concerning the place of his birth, nor need he fear that it will be detected, unless he so wishes. He will pass without question as an Englishman, or perhaps more properly as a Briton; and should he mention his country, the first impression produced will be that of surprise. The principle adverted to, is to be understood, however, as applicable merely to the traveller; that is, to one actually moving from place to place; at which time too, he is supposed to be daily and even hourly changing his associates, provided that he adopts the stage coach conveyance which on the greater routes, is always most eligible. In the instance of first meeting with the gentleman at whose house we this day dined, this practice unexpectedly led to a slight embarrassment. Learning that we were just from Scotland, he took it for granted that we were natives of Edinburgh or its vicinity, and his conversation proceeded on that supposition. No distinct inquiry being made, no explanation was of course given, as a few hours, we supposed would terminate forever our intercourse with this gentleman. But in this we had mistaken his feelings and wishes. Finding that we were travelling solely for observation, and perhaps gathering from some inquiries which we made, that though strangers personally to Dublin we had some friends in expectancy, he evinced in our behalf an interest which we did not anticipate, and seemed desirous of aiding our views by all the information he could impart. On leaving us, he gave his card with an invitation that we would take dinner with him to-day, naming a fashionable hour. His departure was unexpectedly abrupt, just as the coach stopped amidst a crowd at the post office, and left no time for explanation, or even a return of cards. On the following day however we called upon him, when he seemed amused with the mistake under which he had laboured in regard to our true country; and evinced an higher interest in us from our being foreigners and Americans. We have been indebted to him for other civili

ties since, besides the pleasure we this day received at his festive board. We find this gentleman sustaining a distinguished character as a merchant, regarded for his general worth and intelligence, surrounded with a very pleasing family circle, and in the enjoy ment of the elegances as well as comforts of life. He was well acquainted with E. the Irish-American barrister, and retains an unimpaired regard for that popular exile. At his table to-day we met a very pleasant company of gentlemen, and on adjourning to the drawing room, found a small circle of ladies who had been invited to tea. It is unnecessary to say that the remainder of the evening passed greatly to our satisfaction: and that the various courtesies which we experienced were the more welcome from being thus unexpected as well as unsolicited.*

April, 24.-As Mr. * * * * and myself were walking yesterday morning towards the castle, we met a friend, who politely took us round, and pointed our attention to the remarkable buildings and offices connected with it; and conducted us to the Record apartments in Harcourt tower, where we were made acquainted with one of the keepers, and shown some very curious documents and relics. One collection was denominated, I think, the' Down's Book,' and exhibited a survey and delineation of all the counties, parishes and large demesnes in Ireland, as taken at the time and by order of Cromwell. It had been executed with great care, and is a singular work. The old Record office stood in a different part of the city, and was burnt in the reign of queen Anne; many valuable manuscripts were entirely destroyed by the conflagration:-and of others which remained, not a few were so extremely mutilated and defaced, as to be hardly worth preserving. Some which we saw were hardly legible. After the fire the Record office was removed to the tower in the castle, where it is still kept; the walls of which at the basement and first stories are from seven to ten feet in thickness. The tower itself was formerly used for the confinement of state criminals: and in it the famous Arthur O'Connor was imprisoned. The castle, however, is no longer a place of defence, nor is it intended as such. The buildings erected within its precincts are chiefly modern, and are occupied by public officers in the pay of the crown.

From the castle we were conducted to the exchange, a building well worthy of attention, having a noble rotunda apartment in the centre, where the business of exchange, (bills entirely, I believe,) is transacted. This rotunda is thrown open only three times a week, and then between the hours of 3 and 1-2 past 3, P. M. On other days and hours, the business of mercantile transfer and negociation, is transacted in a quadrangular area, back of the buildings in which we lodge, thence called the Commer

The attentions of this gentleman continued without abatement to the last, in ways too various, and with a kindness too delicate to admit of mention.

cial.' Our hotel fronts on Dame Street, which is distinguished for the incessant bustle and parade of business and fashion. The street is finely built, and answers to Broadway in New York, although it is not disfigured by so many mean shops and tenements, which are still seen along the latter. Dame street exhibits almost any hour of the day all the varieties of human condition, from the ermined peer to the tattered beggar, and on the other hand, all the denoting appendages of passing rank from the jaunting car to the Ducal chariot.

After admiring the Royal Exchange, as the day was uncommonly fine, we extended our walk across the Liffey to Phenix Park, a beautiful range of pleasure grounds, several miles in circuit, which are open to the public. They bear some resemblance to, or rather remind the visitor of Kensington gardens, and Hyde Park near London, and are about the same distance from the heart of the city. They are not laid out with any peculiar display of taste, nor are they remarkable for embellishments, whether natural or artificial. They exhibit a pleasing variety of gentle risings and slopes, covered with furze or clumps of hawthorn, and in some parts are well planted with forest trees. The viceregal palace occupies a very fine position. Some of the thorn shrubs we noticed, appeared of great age, and have attained the height of large trees. Besides the seat of the lord lieutenant, there are one or two forts erected on commanding eminences within the park; and near them some barracks which make a good appearance. In one part of the park, several buglers were practising upon their instruments under a tuft of hawthorn, and produced a pleasing effect by their music.

The astonishment of an American is naturally great on beholding the number of barracks which are built in Dublin and its immediate vicinity. He may see them almost at every turn in a street. They are said to be the most extensive and complete of any in Europe, which are connected with a single city, and to accommodate easily 30,000 men. Government find it necessary to keep a large standing force in Ireland, and especially in the capital, to overawe the factious and secure the wavering.

The permanent military force of the crown has been very much reduced, but the numbers which are retained in service are far from seeming small. Wherever I go, in whatever town, I had almost said, village, in which I have been in any part of the united kingdom, I find bodies of soldiers, standing listlessly in groups, or sauntering lazily about the streets.

Returning from the park, our walk led us through an obscure part of the city, where we traversed a street of considerable length, occupied entirely by shops of undertakers, and presenting the grim emblems of their trade. Funeral escutheons and mortuary devices were seen on either side; and coffins of all sizes and stages of completeness were thrust through the opened windows in utter defiance of the passenger who might otherwise pre