ance.

cluding that perfect urbanity which flowed still more from the mildness of his nature, than from familiar intercourse with the most polished society of Europe. His conversation, when it was not repressed by modesty or indolence, was delightful. The pleasantry, perhaps, of no man of wit had so unlabored an appearIt seemed rather to escape from his mind than to be produced by it. He had lived on the most intimate terms with all his contemporaries distinguished by wit, politeness or philosophy, or learning, or the talents of public life. In the course of thirty years he had known almost every man in Europe, whose intercourse could strengthen, or enrich, or polish the mind. His own literature was various and elegant. In classical erudition, which by the custom of England, is more peculiarly called learning, he was inferior to few professed scholars. Like all men of genius, he delighted to take refuge in poetry, from the vulgarity and irritation of business. His own verses were easy and pleasing, and might have claimed no low place among those which the French call Vers de Societe. The poetical character of his mind was displayed in his extraordinary partiality for the poetry of the two most poetical nations, or at least languages, of the west, those of the Greeks and the Italians. He disliked political conversation, and never, willingly, took any part in it. To speak of him justly as an orator, would require a long essay. Every where natural, he carried into public something of that simple and negligent exterior which belonged to him in private. When he began to speak, a common observer might have thought him awkward; and even a consummate judge could only have been struck with the exquisite justness of his ideas, and the transparent simplicity of his manners. But no sooner had he spoken for some time, than he was changed into another being. He forgot himself and every thing around him. He thought only of his subject. His genius warmed and kindled as he went on. He darted fire into his audience. Torrents of impetuous and irresistible eloquence swept along their feelings and conviction. He certainly possessed, above

all moderns, that union of reason, simplicity, and vehemence, which formed the prince of orators. He was the most Demosthenean speaker since Demosthenes. "I knew him," says Mr. Burke, in a pamphlet written after their unhappy difference, "when he was nineteen-since which time he has risen by slow degrees, to be the most brilliant and accomplished debator that the world ever saw." The quiet dignity of a mind roused only by great objects, the absence of petty bus tle, contempt of show, the abhorrence of intrigue, the plainness and downrightness, and the thorough goodnature which distinguished Mr. Fox, seem to render him no very unfit representative of that old English. national character, which, if it ever changed, we should be sanguine indeed to expect to see succeeded by a bet-

ter.

The simplicity of his character inspired confi-- 4 dence, the ardor of his eloquence roused enthusiasm, and the gentleness of his manners invited friendship. "I admired," says Mr. Gibbon," the powers of a superior man as they are blended, in his attractive character, with all the softness and simplicity of a child; no human being was ever more free from any taint of malignity, vanity, or falsehood." From these quali-ties of his public and private character, it probably arose, that no English statesman ever preserved, during so long a period of adverse fortune, so many affectionate friends, and so many zealous adherents.The union of ardor in public sentiment, with mildness in social manners, was, in Mr. Fox, an hereditary quality. The same fascinating power over the attachment of all who came within his sphere, is said to have belonged to his father; and those who know the survivors of another generation, will feel that this delightful quality is not yet extinct in the race.

Perhaps nothing can more strongly prove the deep impression made by this part of Mr. Fox's character, than the words of Mr. Burke, who in January, 1797, six years after all intercourse between them had ceased, speaking to a person honored with some degree of Mr. Fox's friendship, said, "To be sure, he is a man made to be loved!" and these emphatical words were

uttered with a fervor of manner which left no doubt of their heart-felt sincerity.

These few, hasty, and honest sentences are sketched in a temper too sober and serious for intentional exaggeration, and with too pious an affection for the memory of Mr. Fox to profane it by intermixture with the factious brawls and wrangles of the dayHis political conduct belongs to history. The measures which he has supported or opposed may divide the opinion of posterity, as they have divided those of the present age. But he will most certainly command the unanimous reverence of future generations, by his pure sentiments towards the commonwealth, by his zeal for the civil and religious rights of all men, by his liberal principles, favorable to mild gov-ernment, to the unfettered exercise of the human faculties, and the progressive civilization of mankind ;by his ardent love for a country of which the well-being and greatness were indeed inseparable from hisown glory, and by his profound reverence for that free constitution, which he was universally admitted to understand better than any other man of his age, both in an exactly legal, and in a comprehensively philo-sophical sense.

CHARACTER OF JOHN P. CURRAN.

If it were worth while to combat the notion, that de-scent, that nobility, should alone be a passport to honor: and virtue, the history of this man, would furnish the refutation. From no worm eaten statues, from no -musty records of nobility, does he derive his title to honor, or his claim to reputation. He searched no Herald's office for the purpose of ascertaining the age of his tribe; he bribed no court favorite to revive some title which was extinct, in his favor. The star and: garter with all those other gewgaws which amuse so. many children in the shape of men, held out no temptation to him. Overlooking all such puerile and anile distinctions, he threw himself on the resources of his mind, resting his claim on the judgment of his cotemporaries and posterity.

To the unaccommodating spirit of the Spartan is joined, in him, the polish, the delicacy of Athenian manners. Now he reaches the point in debate by a few bold and nervous sentences, expressed with la conic vigor and epigrammatic spirit now his words. appear to move only to the melodious and measured cadentes of Attic harmony. The Spartan economy is forgotten, and an imagination, luxuriant beyond all account, is permitted to range as it were in despite of control and in derision of method, in the sportiveness of mirth, and all the poignancy of satire.

The voice of this man happily corresponds with his genius; easily, by its compass and flexibility, accommodating itself to the several passions which he wishes to convey. It is a clear medium by which he is enabled to transfuse his spirit into his hearers, and kindle in their hearts an enthusiasm in defence of liberty, which like the Greek fire, is never afterwards to be extinguished.

When his soul is inflamed with the frantic excesses, of tyranny, the darkness on his brow gives notice of the tempest that is gathering: while the lightning in his eye, an unerring precurser, announces the thun der that is to follow His invective is keen, is terrible, is desolating. The great lords of the court tremble on their benches, surrounded by guards and clad in purple and ermine; whilst, like a minister of divine wrath, he denounces against them the vengeance of Heaven, and the curses of posterity. The spies of the Government have been known to faint under his examination, alleging that they were unable to bear the fire of his eloquence, and the torture of his interrogatories.

You

He is small of stature, and of a visage sallow and wan: but when he opens his lips, his personal defects vanish; his stature reaches the clouds and he appears to be, alone, graceful and lovely in the creation. are under a species of enchantment, similar to what Horace alludes to in his Art of Poetry, when the skil ful dramatist transports you sometimes to Thebes and sometimes to Athens. Curran is indeed a magician who enchains the imaginations of his hearers, and the

spell is of such potency, that neither wisdom nor ignorance have any charm to resist it.

When he harangues in defence of the rights of mankind, the most bigotted are in love with liberty and virtue; whilst with a master-hand he portrays the miseries of Ireland, not a dry eye is to be seen ;— the court is drowned in tears; corrupt juries, packed and empannelled for the special purpose of condemnation, softened and touched by his eloquence, resign to him their victim; the prison doors fly open at his approach; the chains fall from the hands of the victims. He is the Angel of Mercy, whose lips, touched with fire, by the Almighty, whisper hope in the dungeon of despair, and speak deliverance to the captive.

But to form a correct estimate of this wonderful man, you must consider him, not merely as an orator, as a man distinguished only in a single walk or department of literature. Men in general have their fort or strong ground in which lies their peculiar excellence and strength. But this is not the case with him; in every thing he is great, in every thing equal. He is, as it were, a centre in the circle of sciences, an attractive and luminous focus, on which rays are incessantly falling from all parts of the orb ; a profound mathematician; a logician, acute, subtle, and persuasive; a philosopher, elegantly speculative, and profoundly erudite; a wit, sometimes lashing vice with the wrath and indignation of Juvenal, sometimes tittering at folly with the elegant and courtly irony of Flaccus; a politician, clear-sighted, steady and incorruptible; an orator, realizing and transcending the definition of Cicero.

CHARACTER OF LORD CLIVE.

Ah! the tale is told! The scene is ended, and the eurtain falls! As an emblem of the vanity of all earthly pomp, let his monument be a globe; but be that globe a bubble; let his effigy be a man walking round it in his sleep; and let Fame, in the character of shadow, inscribe his honors on the air.