of the Four Courts accommodated hundreds of ladies, and we may mention that within the building were two pieces of artillery, a plentiful supply of rockets, and a number of policemen.  It was arranged that the rockets should be fired from the roof in case military assistance was required.  Contrary to the general expectation, the head of the procession appeared at Essex-bridge shortly before twelve o’clock.  As it was expected to leave Beresford-place about that time, and as such gigantic arrangements are seldom carried out punctually, the thousands of people who congregated in this locality were pleasantly disappointed when a society band turned the corner of Mary-street and came towards the quays, with the processionists marching in slow and regular time.  The order that prevailed was almost marvellous—­not a sound was heard but the mournful strains of the music, and the prevalent feeling was expressed, no doubt, by one or two of the processionists, who said in answer to an inquiry, “We will be our own police to-day.”  They certainly were their own police, for those who carried white wands did not spare themselves in their endeavours to maintain order in the ranks.  As we have mentioned already, the first part of the procession reached Capel-street shortly before twelve o’clock, and some idea of the extent of the demonstration may be formed from the fact that the hearses did not come in view until a quarter-past one o’clock.  They appeared at intervals of a quarter of an hour, and were received by a general cry of “hush.”  The number of fine, well-dressed young women in the procession here was the subject of general remark, whilst the assemblage of boys astonished all who witnessed it on account of its extent.  The variety of the tokens of mourning, too, was remarkable.  Numbers of the women carried laurel branches in addition to green ribbons and veils, and many of the men wore shamrocks in their hats.  The procession passed along the quays as far as King’s-bridge, and it there crossed and passed up Stevens’-lane.  The windows of all the houses en route were crowded chiefly with women, and the railings at the Esplanade and at King’s-bridge, were crowded with spectators.

About one o’clock the head of the procession, which had been compressed into a dense mass in Stevens’-lane, burst like confined water when relieved of restraint, on entering James’s-street, where every window and doorstep was crowded.  Along the lines of footway extending at either side from the old fountain up to James’s-gate, were literally tented over with umbrellas of every hue and shade, held up as protection against the cold rain that fell in drizzling showers and made the streetway on which the vast numbers stood ankle deep in the slushy mud.  The music of the “Dead March in Saul,” heard in the distance, caused the people to break from the lines in which they had partially stood awaiting the arrival of the procession, which now, for the first time, began to assume its