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The “SAISON” IN DUBLIN. . Dublin is the capital of Ireland, situated on the river Liffey, bounded on all sides by the Phoenix Park, the hill of Howth, and the Circular road. Dublin possesses a University, a Theatre, a Museum, a Lyingin-Hospital, and a Tread-mill; a University where big boys write Latin verses and blow French horns, -a Theatre where the wit of the upper gallery eclipses the humour of the stage,-a Museum which is a useful receptacle for all kinds of lumber, and leaves no excuse for those who heap up dunghills on the King's bighway,--a Lying-in-Hospital where a bounty is placed on the propagation of the species, and nurse-tenders and men-midwives laugh Professor Malthus to scorn,-a Tread-mill where culprits are taught the dignity of virtue by capering in quick time through the indignities of vice, and the force of steam is superseded by the force of iniquity in the manufacture of pins and the spinning of cotton. Dublin is a great city. Dublin, as the late Lord L--th used to say, is “one of the tay-drinkenest, say-bathinest, car-drivinest places in the world; it flogs for divarsion." Dublin is--did you never see Dublin? Did you never hear of Nelson's Pillar and the Wellington Testimonial, and Home's Arcade, and the Royal Exchange? You didn't? Why, then you have all the world before you yet. And you never spent a saison in the metropolis of all Ireland ?. O, then I must initiate you. Shall I give you a sketch of the last, which was consummated under the auspices of the “ golden Duke and Duchess," and which, therefore, may not be inaptly termed the golden age of Irish fashion? Yes, I will : here goes; but as everything should be done systematically, we shall begin with the beginning, that is, with the entrance of the above-mentioned noble personages into the city of Dublin. Oh! but it was a glorious sight to see, and might have been cheerfully purchased with the subsequent surrender of one eye, if "' to look and die,” as feminine gender once said to masculine, would not have been too Quixotish ; it was a grand and an imposing spectacle, and an awful one withal-yea, it was-0, for some superlative or hyperbole to adequately convey my feelings,-it was a very uncommonly handsome sight. If you have not now obtained an adequate conception of it, blame the poverty of the English language if you will, but not that of my descriptive powers, or of the Dublin aristocracy; or if you distrust my graphic skill, go your ways to Lady Morgan's “ Irish Lords Lieutepant," in the February Number of the “ New Monthly,” and if you do not get from thence a proper notion of the thing, why we must only get up a panorama of it, I suppose.
July 1829.-VOL. XXVI: NO. CIII.
Well, now you may conceive the Duke and Duchess safely lodged in the “ Castle." I dare say you never saw the “ Castle" either. I am afraid you are a decided ignoramus, and that I shall have much trouble with you. Why, the “ Castle" is one of the biggest, and the finest, and grandest, and most-most-convenient houses in all Castle-street; not a single mud wall in the whole concern, all brick and mortar, and a most beautiful flag flying from it on court-holidays, and a band every morning playing “God save the King,” every body who is loyal and musical being permitted to listen, gratis free, for nothing. Imagine the delight of the Duke and Duchess, first, in getting into the “ Castle" without having their throats cut by O'Connell's freebooters; then finding that the said “ Castle” was a big brick house; again, that it was · distinguished from the Irish woollen-warehouse opposite, by having a flag floating in viceregal splendour over its chimneys (or its battlements, I should say); and finally ascertaining that they should have a daily concert of drummers and trumpeters, and a levee en masse, of all the loyal and musical, and musical and loyal, in Dublin. Imagine the bliss of the viceregal party-only consave it. But whilst sympathising with their joys, I am digressing from my sketch. What is the first consequence of the arrival of the new and illustrious Court? All the quality flock into the great city. Shall I attempt to give a history of them? It would fill a book. Some, however, cannot be passed over without manifest disrespect. Amongst others, there was my Lady Fineclod from the South, with her host of myrmidons, her tall sons and her lovely daughter; her tall sons all forming one joint-stock company on a consolidated fund of ten ideas, one a-piece; and her fair daughter being endowed with vocal powers calculated to break glass by vibration, if not hearts through the medium of sensibility. And can I forget thee, O inhabitant of Erin's sweetest vales, thou who art destined by nature to fill so considerable a space in the material world! thou who gracefully suspendest the pendant trinket from the summit of love's vantageground, who deckest thy girdle with the light-winged butterfly, and clothest thy dilating form in the ensanguined damask. I think I see thy panting, foaming steeds, drawing thy carriage-wheels towards the metropolis, proud of their majestic burthen, but weary withal; their noble emulation in the cause of progression being only to be equalled by their solicitude for the manger. Long could I carry in such a train of reflection,' long could I dwell on the subject that inspires it, did I not recollect that there are others also who claim a niche in the Temple of Fame. And who more than thee, the worshipper at the two altars of literature and fashion, who with Roman liberality settest up both gods in thy pantheon, and holdest out the tolerant right-hand of fellowship to the opposite creeds of philosophy and dress-making? Do you doubt that books and blond lace, mind and muslin, genius and “gigots,” can go together? I point to Mrs. Prim-Prosody, and your scepticism vanishes. At first sight you will be, perhaps, absorbed in the contemplation of the externals, the head-dress, the brilliants, and the exquisite “ tournure," and you will think that the economy of nature could vouchsafe no farther gift, after having already been so lavish ; but you are awoke from your reverie, and shaken in your hypothesis, by the voice that issues from that shrine, in whose classic and measured tones the poetical world is eloquently descanted on, or the