acclamations. In vain he modestly consigned them to the lovely syren his companion. His name rang wildly through the theatre. I think I still hear the shouts when his person was recognised, and still behold his venerable figure bowing its awkward gratitude. No one knew better the true value of that bubble tribute. Another of his amusements, if indeed it was not something more, when he was at the Temple, seems to have been a frequent attendance in both Houses of Parliament. He sketched the debates and the speakers by whom he was most attracted. These sketches now possess an enduring interest. The future splendours of the painter reflect a fresher light upon his portraits. The sketch of Edmund Burke !—the sketch of Chatham-by young Henry Grattan-the first impressions. Here they are. 'I have heard Burke. He is ingenious, oratorical, undaunted. " "Burke is unquestionably the first orator of the Commons of England. Boundless in knowledge-instantaneous in his apprehensions-abundant in his language, he speaks with profound attention, and acknowledged superiority, notwithstanding the want of energy, the want of grace, (he could see this in another,) and the want of elegance in his manner." His account of Lord Chatham is still more curious. It will occasion to many a surprise such as appears to have been produced in the writer. "Speaking in a style of conversation" scarcely comes up to our idea of "the terrible Cornet of horse, whose scowl used to give Sir Robert Walpole a pain in his back." Yet Mr Grattan's representation has been confirmed by others-a confirmation little needed, considering how consummate a judge he was, and how likely to be accurate on such a subject. "Chatham was a man of great genius, great flight of mind. His imagination was astonishing. I heard him several times when I was at the Temple-on the American war, on the

King's speech in 1770, and on the privileges of Parliament. He was very great and very odd. He spoke in a style of conversation, not, however, what I expected: it was not a speech, for he never came with a prepared harangue. His style was not regular oratory, like Cicero or Demosthenes, but it was very fine and very elevated. He appeared more like a grave character advising than mingling in the debate. His gesture was always graceful; he was an incomparable actor. Had it not been so, it would have appeared ridiculous. His address to the tapestry and to Lord Effingham's memory required a fine actor, and he was that actor."* Even in those early days, Grattan was preparing sedulously for his future destination. He had taken a residence near Windsor Forest; and there it was his custom to rove about by moonlight, addressing the trees as if they were an audience. His landlady took such manifestations much to heart. "What a sad thing it was," she would say, "to see the poor young gentleman all day talking to somebody he calls Mr Speaker, when there's no speaker in the house except himself." Her mind was clearly made up upon the subject. Nor was the old lady singular in her opinions. In some few years afterwards, no less a man than Edmund Burke wrote over to Ireland, "Will no one stop that madman Grattan ?" It was not the first time that a holy enthusiasm, strong in its faith, and steadfast in its purpose, was so misunderstood. Assuredly, when Burke himself enacted the dagger-scene on the floor of the House of Commons, the epithet was more applicable. I wish we had a few such madmen now. When Burke wrote thus, the "madman Grattan" was contemplating the glorious future. His ardent mind beheld the vision of the country

* Grattan's Life and Times, by his Son. A work invaluable to all who desire to know accurately the period of which it treats.

he so loved rising erect from the servitude of centuries, "redeemed, regenerated, and disenthralled" by his exertions. Nor was that vision baseless: he made of it a proud and grand reality. Her chains fell off, as at the bidding of an enchanter. Her commerce free, and her independence recognised, Ireland took her place amongst the nations, unfettered, save by gratitude to him, her child-her more than champion, her deliverer-who with fire-touched lips and lion-heart achieved her liberty. Captive to him she was, and willingly. If it be a grand and noble spectacle to see the sovereign of a state rewarding service, whether rendered on flood or field, or in the more peaceful labours of the forum or the senate-as, assuredly, it is how much more grand, how much more touching, is it to see a nation on its knees, offering a heart-homage to the patriotism that had redeemed it!

There was a struggle then between Grattan and his country-a contention between gratitude and dignified disinterestedness. It was who should give the most, and who should accept the least. One hundred thousand pounds was the first grant proposed: he promptly and firmly refused it; and, be it recollected, he had sacrificed his profession-he had devoted his time and his talents exclusively to the public and, if not a poor man, he was very far from being a rich one. One half the sum he was afterwards with difficulty prevailed on to accept; and this, it has transpired since his death, he has bequeathed to the citizens of Dublin in case of failure of issue. But he submitted thus to be a debtor exclusively to Ireland. In subsequent political combinations—and his friends were afterwards in power-he resisted every temptation. It is revolting to reflect that a gift like this, so honourable to all parties, should have ever been made a reproach to him by political animosity. His reply was very fine. "I hold that grant,"

said he, "by the same title by which the house of Brunswick holds the throne—the PEOPLE gave it, and I received it."

He entered the Irish House of Commons, under the auspices of "the good and gracious Earl of Charlemont," in December 1772, and on the 15th of that month made his maiden speech. Here is the record of his gratitude to his early patron :-"I beg leave to say a few words of the good and gracious Earl of Charlemont. An attack, not only on his measures, but on his representative, makes his vindication necessary. Formed to unite aristocracy and the people-with the manners of a court and the principles of a patriot -with the flame of liberty and the love of order— unassailable to the approaches of power, of profit, or of titles he annexed to the love of freedom a veneration for order, and cast on the crowd that followed him the gracious light of his own accomplishments, so that the very rabble grew civilised as it approached his person. For years did he preside over a great army* without pay or reward, and he helped to accomplish a great revolution without a drop of blood.

"Let slaves utter their slander, and bark at glory which is conferred by the people; his name will stand; and, when their clay shall be gathered to the dirt to which they belong, his monument, whether in marble or in the hearts. of his countrymen, shall be resorted to as a subject for sorrow, and an excitation to virtue."+ A noble and wellmerited eulogium.

His success was instantaneous, and his consequent industry appears to have been indomitable. The affairs of Parliament were to be henceforward the business of his life, and he studied them minutely. The chief difficulty

* The Irish volunteers.

+ Letter to Lord Clare.

in this great speaker's way was the first five minutes. During his exordium laughter was imminent. He bent his body almost to the ground, swung his arms over his head, up and down and around him, and added to the grotesqueness of his manner a hesitating tone and drawling emphasis. Still there was an earnestness about him that at first besought, and, as he warmed, enforced-nay, commanded attention. The elevation of his mind, the grandeur of his diction, the majesty of his declamation, the splendour of his imagery, and the soundness of his logic, displayed in turn the ascendency of a genius whose sway was irresistible. He was fine and judicious in his panegyric; but his forte-that which seemed to conjure up and concentrate all his faculties- was the overwhelming, withering severity of his invective. It was like the torrent-lava, brilliant, inevitable, fatal. It required such qualifications to overcome the peculiarity of his appearance, and the disadvantages of his manner. Truly, indeed, might it be said of him as he said of Chatham, “he was very great, and very odd." For a time the eye dissented from the verdict of the mind; but at last, his genius carried all before it, and, as in the oracle of old, the contortions vanished as the inspiration became manifest. His debut in the Imperial Parliament was a bold and hazardous experiment. He had told Flood, and somewhat prophetically, that "an oak of the forest was too old to be transplanted at fifty;" and yet here he was himself!— whether he would take root was the question; and for some moments very questionable it was. When he rose, every voice in that crowded house was hushed-the great rivals, Pitt and Fox, riveted their eyes on him-he strode forth and gesticulated-the hush became ominous-not a cheer was heard-men looked in one another's faces, and then at the phenomenon before them, as if doubting his identity;