INCONSPICUOUSLY tucked away near the head of the Coombe, one of the poorer sections of poor Dublin, is a treasure of the Western world—a centuries‐old library that was once the haunt of Dean Swift and others of a bygone Anglo‐Irish literary set; a library that was the proud boast of two nations but that today knows only a few tourists and even fewer scholars. This is St. Sepulchre—known more popularly as Marsh's Library. Within its red brick walls, quietly collecting dust in surroundings unchanged from the days of good Queen Anne, are the priceless literary gems of another era; manuscripts that take on an added glory in the purest 18th century interior to be found in all Ireland. The oaken benches and stained reading desks; the wide‐planked flooring and arched ceiling; the carved and lettered gables, all topped by hand painted mitres—all these have been spared the hand of the restorer and modernizer. They stand as a challenge to time, and in a remarkable state of preservation.
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