he was much in the habit of reading the writings of Bolingbroke, whom he admired as a reasoner and orator. The same letter affords a remarkable indication of that noble and disinterested tone of generous sentiment, which seems to have been the characteristic of his moral constitution, easily traced in all the acts of his life. It seems that his friend Broome, to whom the letter is addressed, was at the time looking for the means to obtain a commission in the army, and had expressed his anxiety on the subject to Mr Grattan. The following was the reply: "To lend the money is not the least inconvenient to me; on the contrary, your application to any one else for the sum I could supply, I should have esteemed an injury to me. You may depend on having it before the time you have limited."

Mr Grattan's time was earnestly devoted to the studies which were to fit him for the strenuous and splendid course he was destined to pursue. If in his correspondence great traces of languor, and the listless tone of idleness is often to be detected, it was but the effect of intense and ardent labour, displayed in the intervals of fatigue. His favourite amusements bespoke the mind strung to a high calling: the galleries of the house of commons, and the bar of the lords were his chosen haunts. He had the advantage of listening to the splendid orators of that day, when oratory had, in the persons of Chatham, Burke, and a few other eminent persons, reached the maximum of its power and splendour in modern times. As the reader may well conjecture, his favourite was Chatham, whose style is signalized by that specious power of representation and splendour of pointed phrase, which were afterwards the evident study and main weapons of Mr Grattan himself. From the same source he also drew ideas of the effect of manner and expressive delivery. The strong impression which he at this time received, is imbodied in the character which he afterwards drew of that great orator and statesman.

It was with regret that we have traced in some of his letters the evidences of the strong and fatal influence of that false philosophy which then was beginning to prevail, and which found no sufficient resistance in the relaxed state of religion. The powers of Mr Grattan's mind were those of strong sagacity, profound observation, a high moral sense, a brilliant fancy and its consequence, a ready and original taste for the combinations of language. But his mind was not endowed for philosophic investigation. There is not in his productions any indication either of the patient and self-directed scrutiny of contemplation, on which metaphysical research is grounded, or of the severe, scrupulous, and persevering logical deduction on which it must proceed. His powers, and the intellectual structure of his mind, were of an opposite and far more useful, as well as popular order. He was little likely to be imposed upon by the outward seemings of the world, or the professions of the men. But moral sophisms, and the plausibilities of the shallow but specious literature then called philosophy, maintained by popular names, by the manners of the age, and assimilated to a merely nominal condition of christianity, could hardly fail to warp the fancy of a youthful student of Bolingbroke. To these remarks it may be right to add, that in the brilliant circle of Irish society in which Mr Grattan's younger days were much spent, there prevailed the very

lowest tone of morals, and nearly a total absence of religion. In truth, the religion of the upper classes in that day of polished barbarism in Ireland was no other than the point of honour,—a rule which, while it nicely and strictly defines many of those moralities essential to private life, and for the maintenance of a low civilization, leaves untouched those vices to which it was addicted. Happily Mr Grattan was not one to be carried far by the cold frostwork fetters of the infidel philosophy; which is more shallow and flimsy than it is even specious, and must be quite incapable of casting a permanent hold over the clear vigorous faculties of such a mind.

His companion in the temple was Mr Day, who held rooms in partnership with him for three years. From a letter, long after addressed by this venerable person to Mr Grattan's son, some interesting details are to be obtained. "We lived," writes Mr Day, "in the same chambers in the middle temple, and took a house in Windsor forest, commanding a beautiful landscape; he delighted in romantic scenery. Between both, we lived together three or four years, the happiest period of my life." Another passage mentions, "When we resided in Windsor forest, he would spend whole moonlight nights rambling and losing himself in the thickest plantations; he would sometimes pause and address a tree in soliloquy, thus preparing himself early for that assembly which he was destined in latter life to adorn. One morning he amused us at breakfast, with an adventure of the night before, in the forest. In one of those midnight rambles, he stopped at a gibbet and commenced apostrophizing the chains in his usual animated strain, when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder, and on turning about was accosted by an unknown person-how the devil did you get down? To which the rambler calmly replied-Sir, I suppose you have an interest in that question!" Such incidents often occur to the invention, and without any purpose of deception are told as pleasant stories; this we believe to be the common origin of ninetenths of the adventures of the witty part of mankind. But in the present instance, the tale is highly characteristic of the teller. We are told that Mr Grattan's habits at this interval of his life were so eccentric, as to convey to his landlady some suspicions of his being deranged. "She complained to one of his friends, that the gentleman used to walk up and down in his garden most of the night, speaking to himself; and though alone, he was addressing some one on all occasions by the name of Mr Speaker, &c."

At the temple he first became acquainted with Dr Duigenan. And in the course of their conversation, they fell into a warm disputation, in which the politics and characters of either were strongly displayed. The incidents are mentioned by Judge Day who was present and tells the story; the end is curious enough. Having been violently excited, "they parted, and in the evening Grattan came to the Grecian, where we used to meet, with a long sword by his side. Duigenan did not make his appearance, but he wrote a poem criticising Grattan's figure with his long sword. It was comical; I showed it to your father, who was amused by the humorous turn, and so the affair ended." To this incident the subsequent animosity of Dr Duigenan against Mr Grattan, is traced by the narrator.

In the same year, Mr Grattan had the misfortune to lose a sister whom he affectionately loved; by the tenor of his correspondence, the loss can be inferred to have made the most painful impressions on his deep and somewhat morbid affections.

From the same letters, we are enabled to trace the formation of his peculiar style of oratory, with a distinctness seldom to be attained in such criticism. His ear was caught by the love of that antithetic balance of diction, and that epigrammatic cast of expression, which was the prominent character of his style. It may be, and we believe has been said, that in him this was simply the result of his peculiar character of intellect, as being the aptest vehicle for his condensed remark and epigrammatic vein. And, in a manner this is highly probable: the taste must have some determining motive, and none is so likely as that of strong adaptation. But it is curious to remark the deliberate adoption of such a method before the tone and spirit of his thoughts appear to demand such a vehicle. In every page of these letters, we find the curiously elaborate music of antithesis and point, without any very decided approach to an appropriate relation in the sense; as if he had already conceived the idea of a style, of which he as yet but succeeded generally in the structure-while at the same time, there is in most of those instances, some greater or less indication to mark the intent and conception of a style. We can afford but one example. "Lord North, the chancellor of the exchequer, a man busied in state mystery, and learned in finances, spoke in defence of the court, in a manner impetuous, not rapid; full of cant not melody; and deserved the eulogium of a fervent speaker, not a great one. Grenville, on the part of the opposition, was peevish and wrangling, and provoked those whom he could not defeat." His opinions of books which he expresses with much precision, mostly display much tact and a judgment which was rapidly attaining its maturity.

In 1768, he was deprived of his mother, for whom he entertained the deepest affection. Her death was too sudden to allow of the disposition of a reversion of property which she possessed, and had intended to make in his favour. In consequence of which, it passed to a distant relation.

A more happy event in his family occurred in the same year, when his eldest sister married Mr Gervase Parker Bushe of Kilfane, in the county of Kilkenny. This incident had in some respects a favourable influence on the tenor of his early years, as it placed him at once in a circle which was then, has been ever since, and is indeed still, the most refined and agreeable in Ireland, both on account of the wit, talent, and cultivated taste, which perhaps by fortunate coincidence was concentrated within it, and for the high social polish which generally prevailed. Mr Flood, Mr Langrishe, with Mr Bushe, formed the nucleus of this circle; of which Mr Grattan himself was thenceforward to be a conspicuous ornament. We shall have a further occasion to offer more copious details of this interesting locality, and its inhabitants.*

*It is with every sentiment of deep regret and sorrow we have to announce to our readers, that another truly honourable and illustrious name, dear to every friend

In the society to which he was thus introduced, Mr Grattan's genius received fresh incentives. His acquaintance with Mr Flood, productive of lively satisfaction to both, contributed much to his improvement, and gave perhaps a determinate impulse to the taste for political life, which he had already contracted. With Mr Flood, he now pursued his favourite studies with fresh ardour,—as we are told by his son, "they wrote-they argued they debated together."

Of the private theatricals, we have already taken some notice, and promised more. Their history belongs to a further division of this work. In these Mr Grattan took a considerable part. He was an admirer and a habitual frequenter of the stage-from which he may be presumed to have drawn much of his peculiar love of action and effect. On one occasion, when Milton's Comus was acted at Marley, the seat of Mr Latouche, the epilogue was from Mr Grattan's pen, and does high credit to his poetic talents: from this specimen, we should be inclined to assign him the foremost place as a poet among the eminent members of the eminent public men of his day, among whom it was a favourite amusement to write occasional verses. These lines are happily preserved, and will repay the trouble of looking for them in the memoirs published by his son.* The reader will be struck by the nervous idiomatic simplicity of the language-the easy, unlaboured, and unencumbered music of the metre-the delicately edged vein of irony which runs through it—and, perhaps, also, the just critical tact of his allusions to the piece.

It is unnecessary to trace minutely his progress at this period. Among the numerous letters published by his son, we find the following characteristic notice of Tinnehinch, the spot where his residence was afterwards fixed :-" I have not forgotten the romantic valley. I look on it with an eye of forecast. It may be the recreation of an active life, or the shelter of an obscure one, &c." We may generally observe, that the rapid progress of his taste and understanding is very

of elegant literature, or exalted worth, has fallen within the province of our work. The right honourable Charles Kendal Bushe, so long the pride and ornament of the most fastidious and courtly circle in this country, the model of a good landlord, of a finished gentleman, of a kind parent, relation and friend, is now among the brighter recollections of the past as a judge excelled by none, and equalled by few as an orator high among the highest of that rare standard class to whom none of the existing public speakers can be compared; as a wit approached by none. His conversation was remarkable for the unsought and unaffected play of a brilliant and rich fancy, which dazzled without wounding-too affluent and too polished to require or to admit of any aid from satire or the flippancy of witticism, and which, without effort, obtrusiveness or pedantry, lent a chaste, refined, and classic glow to the circle enriched by his presence. The same fastidious and cultivated taste that polished his manner and conversation, prevailed in his conduct. The praise of our Irish poet may be applied to his character, with a rare felicity; "for even his failings leaned to virtue's side." Into his discharge of public duty he carried a sense of honour verging to the limits of infirmity, the true "infirmity of noble minds;" and guarded the stern purity of justice with a spirit more proud and high than the jealousy of Cæsar. He is departed, the state of society, productive of much good and evil, in which his brilliant character was formed, has long passed away, and it is with a solemn sincerity which disclaims the common cant of rhetoric that we may say with his own favourite classic: "He was a man,-take him for all in all, we ne'er shall look upon his like again." * Vol. I., p. 146.

observable in these letters; and that in every respect. His taste becomes correct, and his opinions more free from false taste and moral fallacy, which appear to have been at earlier periods the result of a morbid tendency, and the seduction of brilliant but vicious thinkers. In the year 1770, when he was in his twenty-fourth year, he was leading a life of infinite hurry and variety between London, Dublin, and the county of Kilkenny. In the latter place he divided his time between Kilfane and Farmley: in Dublin, he met with too much hospitality and claret for his taste; in London, he says, "My chambers are comfortable and cheerful; they entice me to be domestic and studious." Windsor, too, had, as of old, his visits; and, as of old, he seems there to have found the genius of melancholy, his first love, faithful to the tryst. From hence he writes, "I write this letter from the dullest solitude which ever I have experienced. You know my mind has ever had a hankering after misery; I have cultivated that defect with astonishing success, and have now refined my mind into the most aching sensibility imaginable." A little further there occurs the following singularly accurate description of this state of temper:"the fact is, I have no resolution, and in solitude feel the most frivolous incidents as great calamities."

It was some time in the year 1771, that he wrote his celebrated character of Chatham; this was inserted in the Baratinana. It has been made very generally known, by having afterwards obtained a place in a selection of standard specimens of style for the use of education: in which, if we rightly recollect, it is attributed to lord Chesterfield. The author of the Baratinana gave it as an extract from a forthcoming work of Robertson. It displays the most consummate finish of that highly rhetorical style of which Mr Grattan has been, after lord Chatham, the greatest master.

In the autumn of the same year, he had completed his term at the middle temple; and was become more in earnest in his legal studies. One consequence of this new diligence in the study of law was just what the intelligent reader cannot fail to have anticipated-a disgust at that dry factitious science of constructions and pleadings, statutes and precedents. In him, taste, fancy, and enthusiasm, were principles far too active and predominant to be controlled and subdued, as they often are, by graver studies; and thus, while he looked with a fond regret on hours consumed over Pope and Milton; and indulged a highwrought sensibility by weeping over the works of Gray, who had recently died in the same year, it was not unnatural that he should speak of his detestation of the profession he was about to enter.*

In September he visited France, and spent some time in Paris, from which he visited Vernon and the banks of the Loire.

In the following year he was called to the bar. For a time he entered seriously on his hard avocation; went circuit, and was engaged in an important suit. His client having been unsuccessful, his romantic generosity of temper prompted him to return half the amount of his fifty guinea fee: with such a disposition, a strong attachment to politics sedulously cherished; with social connexions among the brilp. 247.

*See Life by his Son, Vol. I.,