the abrupt change from nationality to pure
provincialism.*

* Only last year died the last surviving member
of the Irish House, one of Nature's gentlemen—no
mere remnant of an old generation, but fresh, buoyant,
keeping pace with the younger world, the
delight and admiration of his friends.

The year before the Union, as "old
inhabitants" have told the writer, Sackville-
street, long and broad as it is, was literally
crowded with coaches and six, waiting, drawn
up to take down noble lords and noble gentlemen
to "the House." Only the year after the
Union, as an ancient and fossilised coach-
builder has also told us, the auction-marts and
carriage-yards were encumbered with coaches
and carriages and horses; noblemen and
gentlemen, now "out of work," with their
calling gone, literally flying from the unhappy
capital.

About the old Music Hall, now Fishamble-
street Theatre, where Handel sat at his
harpsichord, float the ghosts and clouds of
a hundred fairy scenes and glories. Here
it was that Lord Mornington—of "ye spotted
snakes" memory—founded this musical academy,
which, by the rules, was to be strictly
independent of all "mercenary professors."
A hundred years ago it was flourishing. The
president was the facetious Kane O'Hara, who
wrote "Midas;" the leader of the band was Lord
Mornington; first violins, Count M'Carthy,
Right Hon. Sackville Hamilton, Rev. Dean
Bayley, and others; bassoon, Colonel Lee;
violoncellos, Earl of Bellaunt, Sir John Dillon, two
Hon. and Rev. Deans; flutes, Lord Lucan,
Captain Reid, Rev. J. Johnson; harpischord,
Right Hon. W. Brownlow, Lady Freke, Miss
Cavendish; singers, Right Hon. Lady Caroline
Russell, Mrs. Monck, Miss O'Hara, and a host
of other notabilities. This place still stands;
and every night Malachy, enterprising manager
as he is, gives the illegitimate drama, where the
noble earl led the band, and my Lady Freke
sat at the harpischord. Masquerades, too. Mr.
Gardiner, of the Blessington family, flits by as
an old woman carrying her father in a basket;
considered the best and most ludicrous mask
in the place, and Mr. Hamilton as a French
gouvernante. There passes by Mr. Yelverton
as a Methodist preacher, Counshillor Doyle
as a friar; and, strangest spectacle of all, Lord
Glerawly as "a sideboard of plate." This was
certainly the most mysterious of all characters,
and did honour to his lordship's ingenuity.
Captain French as Diana Frapes. But the
character that we should have wished to see, and
which has an interest for us beyond the
gentleman who walked as Sterne's Slaukenbergias,
fresh from the promontory of Noses,
was "Mr. Boswell," who had by this time
emptied his head of Corsica, and who was
content with the character of Douglas.

The chapter of Irish beauties at the Irish
Court has always been a large one. Looking
back, we can catch glimpses, at every era, of a
train of belles of reputation. When all London
was running wild after the lovely Gunnings, and
when a Secretary of State actually sent a guard
of soldiers to walk after them in Hyde Park
to keep the mob off, and when these brilliant
but bold young ladies were rather courting
such admiration, it was surprising that no one
thought of hunting up the old stories of their
Irish triumphs; for they, too, had been at "the
Castle," yet under circumstances a little humiliating.
Their father, John Gunning, Esquire,
had ruined himself, like many a fine Irish
gentleman; but his daughters, like many fine
Irish ladies, must still go to the "shows" and
keep up appearances; yet both money and credit
were unhappily gone, in which difficulty their
mamma called in Mr. Thomas Sheridan, the
manager of the Theatre Royal, Smock Alley,
who kindly allowed the handsome girls to choose
from the rich wardrobes of his green-room, and
in this way they were enabled to go to "the
drawing-room." On another occasion, a charitable
actress, passing through Great Britain-
street, heard women crying in a second floor,
and going in, found the two beauties and their
mamma in the deepest distress, bailiffs having
put in an execution. John Gunning, Esquire,
was happily out of the way, as he always
contrived to be. She befriended and rescued
them. Long after, when the Irish girls made
their wonderful matches, and became Lady
Coventry and Duchess of Hamilton, it is
said that the Irish manager had humbly asked
to be invited to one of their parties, and was
refused; and Mrs. Bellamy, the actress who
had saved them from the bailiffs, is also said to
have met with the same neglect. Still, theirs
were awkward secrets to bring to your host's
party.

In later times, lively and not too straitlaced
saturnalia prevailed. Jovial vice-kings
enjoyed their reigns. The Dublin
caricaturists were never idle a moment. Looking
over their works, we find open allusions to
three very well-known ladies, who are always
put down as Lady C—r, Lady C—e, and Lady
Denny. The pranks of these dames amused
the whole city; their rivalries, their battles in
the box lobbies of the theatre, and their
doings at Court. All the world knew Lady
Cahir, Lady Denny, and Lady Clare, but they
did not heed what the world knew. One of
the caricatures gave each a motto, more witty
than complimentary. For Lady Clare, "I
declare for all men;" for Lady Cahir, "I care for
all men;" and for the last, "I deny no man."
But the greater scandal was occasioned when
it was known that one of these ladies had
introduced an extraordinary game, in high favour
at the Castle, and which went by the name of
"Cutchacutchoo."

Two recesses were fitted up at the end of the
grand saloons; and here, behind a curtain, the
ladies prepared their toilet for the exciting
sport. In a moment the floor was covered with
a crowd of belles, and dowagers, and beaux,
hopping about in the sitting attitude required by the
game. Great was the laughter when a gentle
dame of high degree was overthrown by the