e loftiest prerogatives of
genius. If this be true, and I am not disposed to dispute it--what a
gifted people must be the worthy inhabitants of Dublin; for I scruple not
to affirm, that of all cities of which we have any record in history,
sacred or profane, there is not one so little likely to disturb the
tranquil current of such reminiscences. "As it was of old, so is it
now," enjoying a delightful permanency in all its habits and customs,
which no changes elsewhere disturb or affect; and in this respect I defy
O'Connell and all the tail to refuse it the epithet of "Conservative."

Had the excellent Rip Van Winkle, instead of seeking his repose upon the
cold and barren acclivities of the Kaatskills--as we are veritably
informed by Irving--but betaken himself to a comfortable bed at
Morrison's or the Bilton, not only would he have enjoyed a more agreeable
siesta, but, what the event showed of more consequence, the pleasing
satisfaction of not being disconcerted by novelty on his awakening. It
is possible that the waiter who brought him the water to shave, for Rip's
beard, we are told, had grown uncommonly long--might exhibit a little of
that wear and tear to which humanity is liable from time; but had he
questioned him as to the ruling topics--the proper amusements of the day
--he would have heard, as he might have done twenty years before, that
there was a meeting to convert Jews at the Rotunda; another to rob
parsons at the Corn Exchange; that the Viceroy was dining with the
Corporation, and congratulating them on the prosperity of Ireland, while
the inhabitants were regaled with a procession of the "broad ribbon
weavers," who had not weaved, heaven knows when! This, with an
occasional letter from Mr. O'Connell, and now and then a duel in the
"Phaynix," constituted the current pastimes of the city. Such, at least,
were they in my day; and though far from the dear locale, an odd flitting
glance at the newspapers induces me to believe that matters are not much
changed since.

I rambled through the streets for some hours, revolving such thoughts as
pressed upon me involuntarily by all I saw. The same little grey
homunculus that filled my "prince's mixture" years before, stood behind
the counter at Lundy Foot's, weighing out rappee and high toast, just as
I last saw him. The fat college porter, that I used to mistake in my
school-boy days for the Provost, God forgive me! was there as fat and as
ruddy as heretofor