f the grenadier, who marched backwards
and forwards beside the flagstaff in the centre of the open space. No
cavalcade of joyous riders, no prancing horses led about by grooms, no
showy and splendid equipages; all was still, sad, and neglected-looking.
The dust whirled about in circling eddies, as the cold wind of an
autumnal day moaned through the arched passages and gloomy corridors of
the old building. A care-worn official, or some slatternly inferior of
the household, would perhaps pass from time to time; but except such as
these, nothing stirred. The closed shutters and drawn-down blinds showed
that the viceroy was absent and I found myself the only occupant of the
building.

It requires the critical eye of the observant resident of great cities
to mark the changes which season and fashion effect in their appearance.
To one unaccustomed to their phases it seems strange to hear, 'How empty
the town is! how very few people are in London!'--while the heavy tide
of population pours incessantly around him, and his ear is deafened
with the ceaseless roll of equipage. But in such a city as Dublin the
alteration is manifest to the least observant. But little frequented by
the country gentry, and never except for the few months when the court
is there; still less visited by foreigners; deserted by the professional
classes, at least such of them as are independent enough to absent
themselves--the streets are actually empty. The occupations of trade,
the bustle of commerce, that through every season continue their
onward course in the great trading cities such as Liverpool, Hamburg,
Frankfort, and Bourdeaux, scarce exist here; and save that the tattered
garments of mendicancy, and the craving cries of hunger are ever before
you, you might fall into a drowsy reverie as you walked, and dream
yourself in Palmyra.

I had strolled about for above an hour, in the moody frame of mind my
own reflections and the surrounding objects were well calculated to
suggest, when, meeting by accident a subaltern with whom I was slightly
acquainted, I heard that the court had that morning left the Lodge in
the Park for Kilkenny, where the theatricals of that pleasant city were
going forward--a few members of the household alone remaining, who were
to follow in a day or two.

For some days previous I had made up my mind not to remain in Ireland.
Every tie that bound me to the country was broken. I had no heart to set
about forming new friendshi