From this noble edifice, we bent our steps to another part of the city, and soon found ourselves in the vicinity of St. Patrick’s, where we had a heart-sickening view of the poorest of the poor.  All the recollections of poverty which I had ever beheld, seemed to disappear in comparison with what was then before me.  We passed a filthy and noisy market, where fruit and vegetable women were screaming and begging those passing by to purchase their commodities; while in and about the market-place were throngs of beggars fighting for rotten fruit, cabbage stocks, and even the very trimmings of vegetables.  On the side walks, were great numbers hovering about the doors of the more wealthy, and following strangers, importuning them for “pence to buy bread.”  Sickly and emaciated-looking creatures, half naked, were at our heels at every turn.  After passing through a half dozen, or more, of narrow and dirty streets, we returned to our lodgings, impressed with the idea that we had seen enough of the poor for one day.

In our return home, we passed through a respectable looking street, in which stands a small three storey brick building, which was pointed out to us as the birth-place of Thomas Moore, the poet.  The following verse from one of Moore’s poems was continually in my mind while viewing this house:—­

    “Where is the slave, so lowly,
    Condemn’d to chains unholy,
    Who, could he burst
    His bonds at first,
    Would pine beneath them slowly?”

* * * * *

Yesterday was the Sabbath, but it had more the appearance of a holiday than a day of rest.  It had been announced the day before, that the Royal fleet was expected, and at an early hour on Sunday, the entire town seemed to be on the move towards Kingstown, and as the family with whom I was staying followed the multitude, I was not inclined to remain behind, and so went with them.  On reaching the station we found it utterly impossible to get standing room in any of the trains, much less a seat, and therefore determined to reach Kingstown under the plea of a morning’s walk; and in this we were not alone, for during the walk of five miles the road was filled with thousands of pedestrians and a countless number of carriages, phaetons, and vehicles of a more humble order.

We reached the lower town in time to get a good dinner, and rest ourselves before going to make further searches for Her Majesty’s fleet.  At a little past four o’clock, we observed the multitude going towards the pier, a number of whom were yelling at the top of their voices, “It’s coming, it’s coming;” but on going to the quay, we found that a false alarm had been given.  However, we had been on the look-out but a short time, when a column of smoke rising as it were out of the sea, announced that the Royal fleet was near at hand.  The concourse in the vicinity of the pier was variously estimated at from eighty to one hundred thousand.