te residence again in a very brief time. The
staircase is grand in proportion, and the steps and balustrades are of
polished mahogany, the last being richly carved.

Tyrone House is now the Education Office, and Mornington House, where
Wellington's father resided, and where or at Dangan--for it is a
doubtful point--the duke was born, is also used for government purposes.

The great squares of Dublin are St. Stephen's Green, Rutland, Mountjoy,
Merrion and Fitzwilliam Squares. The first of these dates from the
latter half of the seventeenth century, and is probably in a far more
prosperous condition now than it ever was before. If we are to judge by
Whitelaw's history, it presented in 1819 an aspect such as no public
square out of Dublin--the enclosure of Leicester Square, London,
excepted--could present. "Of that kind of architectural beauty," he
says, "which arises from symmetry and regularity, here are no traces."
Some houses were on a level with the streets, others were approached by
a grand _perron_. The proprietors were of all degrees: here was the
great house of a lord, there a miserable dramshop. The enclosure
consisted of no less than thirteen acres, making Stephen's Green the
largest public square in Europe. It was simply a great treeless field,
with an equestrian statue of George II. stuck in the middle of it. The
principal entrance to the ground is described as "decorated with four
piers of black stone crowned with globes of mountain granite, once
respectable, but exhibiting shameful symptoms of neglect and decay."
There had been a gravel walk called the "Beaux' Walk," from its having
been a fashionable resort, "but," says Whitelaw, "the ditch which bounds
it is now usually filled with stagnant water, which seems to be the
appropriate receptacle of animal bodies in a disgusting state of
putrefaction." At night this charming recreation-ground was illumined by
twenty-six lamps, at a distance of one hundred and seventy feet from
each other, stuck on wooden poles. Such an account of the grand square
of Dublin does not make one surprised to learn that the main approach to
it from the heart of the city was of a very miserable description.

In reading Whitelaw's history of Dublin it is impossible not to be
struck with the fact that it records a degree of neglect and
indifference on the part of the people and the local authorities to
beauty, decency and order such as could scarcely be found in another
country. In th