Corporation of Limerick against the Fishermen, he made a speech of surprising power. The fishermen sacrificed burnt-offerings, in the shape of tar-barrels, to their eloquent deliverer.

In a review of the Irish bar, there would be good reason for neglecting Mr. Whiteside, if he resembled his cold cotemporaries, who speak from their briefs without eloquence or imagination-without any of those felicities of thought or of language, which are now as rare as the blooming of the aloe-if his speeches had been aggregations of dull matters of fact-of insipid commonplaces blown out to the last degree of tenuity-scarcely tolerable in any form, but thoroughly insupportable when prolonged into wearisome addresses. Though his speeches are not without a portion of the usual professional prolixity and redundancy, yet there is about him a vigour and originality, a facility and fertility of diction, which, considering the impossibility of preparation in most instances, stamp him as a man of no ordinary mould. His mind is a healthy natural fountain, not a dull forcingpump. Whatever flows, flows from him freely and spontaneously. The waters may not be always pure, but yet they gush forth without mechanical assistance. We therefore listen even to his greatest extravagancies with pleasure, with very different feelings from those with which we listen to the dreary frigidity of many of his cotemporaries. He is not a very sound lawyer, or, with the knowledge he possessess, a very safe one. He is too bold and adventurous, striking away right and left, more with the abandon of a heated gladiator, than the cautious self-possession of an experienced master of fence. He throws out multitudinous points over the field of argument-disperses at random a cloud of skirmishers in the shape of cases-all formidable enough when no other enemy appears on the wide champaign, but soon driven in under the pressure of heavier metal. His principle appears to be, that the greater the number of cases, the greater the chances that some will stick: and, besides, attorneys place little faith in one who is not dropsical with reports, and can tap in every emergency. Still Mr. Whiteside is a clever man. As an advocate, he is a favourite with the most fastidious. Few can more ably stimulate attention. At the Irish bar, at present, he is the only representative of the old eloquence. Rapid, earnest, and enthusiastic, he launches forth, though not without compass and rudder, and all the echoes of the court are called into resonant requisition. He is a tall, thin man, with a face indicative of strong emotion, and expressing even in its most tranquil mood the fire with which he is animated. His voice resembles the fierce puffing of a steam-engine, rushing out in quick and violent blasts, as though they would burst asunder his unsubstantial frame. While arguing on the side of the accused with all his wonted fervour, we once observed Mr. Shiel's glittering eye fastened on him, and expanding with delight as Mr. Whiteside lifted up his energetic voice and discharged a flood of Greek fire. With all his impetuosity and irritability, he is good-hearted kind, and joyous— himself a dispenser of mirth, and relishing it in others. Neither is there a man who less suffers his principles to interfere with his duties. In the trial of Hughes, for the murder of Mr. Powel, he was counsel for the prisoner. The present Master of the Rolls, then Attorney-General, went down to

conduct the prosecution. He was the fountain of honours, and Mr. Whiteside had claims on a silk-gown. Not subdued by the official reverence which confounds the less resolute of spirit-intent on his duty and determined to do it, he fearlessly impeached the conduct of the crown in the construction of the jury panel. The falcon eye of the Attorney-General flashed speaking reproach, but he only rayed out the more in accusation, and vindicated his claim to the high character of independence and eloquence. On the trial he will bait the law of ficers to the very verge of the unendurable, and particularly Mr. Smith, who is as hot as an Indian curry. Resistance is the element in which he moves. He is never at home but in the swell of the battle. Like the sea-bird, he glories in a storm-the louder it rages the more intense his delight. A word brings him up, but a word will not easily set him down. If the court interfere with the old and useful apothegm,-one at a time,—he will be the one for the time. His interruption is often unseasonable and often in excess, but it is his constitution, and any attempt to suppress only tends to excite it. When he does get a set down from Judge Crampton, he drops rapidly into his seat, muttering something between the fence of his teeth, and thrusts his hands into his trouser-pockets; but the next moment sees him up again as nimble-tongued and elastic as ever. We have heard some say that he will crack the heartstrings of the Attorney-General, but we have more faith in the honourable gentleman's self-possession. Mr. Whiteside will labour under one great disadvantagethe separation from his callaborateur, Mr. Napier. Like emulous alchemists, though working by different processes, they find equal pleasure and profit in throwing their material into each other's crucible. They are now asunder, working on opposite sides, and thus each loses half his strength.

The ablest tactician on the side of the traversers is Mr. M'Donagh. To this opinion exceptions may be made-but we aver our belief that he is the most prompt, sharp, and nimble of all the able host. He is a fellow of infinite sagacity-like Ducrow's celebrated Beda-" one in a thousand." Who like him to butter up or slidder down-to wind his approaches to the favour of the court by the most graceful condescension, backed with the most finished subtlety, and a proportionate dash of gay effrontery? Nothing can disconcert-nothing can overreach him. He is a thorough master of his business, and none can do it with more effect. His manner is good, though adulatory—his learning ever ready-his temper imperturbable. Let no man depreciate the abilities of Mr. M'Donagh. He has talents of a very high order, without which he could not have risen to his present position. There is a class of men at the bar-always moving about on stilts-vain, conceited, pompous, artificial,-very learned in the law in their own high esteem, but labouring under the misfortune of being unable to turn their profundity to profitable account. This frivolous set are envious of Mr. M'Donagh, and run him down within their own narrow circle: but he laughs at them all. He has the cream, let them enjoy the sour whey. A short tale will illustrate the auspicious commencement of his career, which he has improved to a very lucrative maturity. The auctor fabulæ is now a high dignitary-we give it in nearly his own

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words:"One day, as I was conversing with Mr. H, M‘Donagh, then young at the bar but intelligent in his profession, was making a motion in the King's Bench. A clever fellow that,' said Mr. HI answered approvingly. Did you ever hear,' said he, what Lord Eldon said of O'Connell? The first time he appeared to argue in the House of Lords, there was great anxiety among the English lawyers to hear him, and even old Eldon shared in the excitement. He sat near one of the bishops. When O'Connell opened the case, he was all cold attention, neither approving nor disapproving. When, however, Dan got fast in the argument, his lordship grew fidgetty-drumming on the bench with delight at O'Connell's masterly argument-and in the height of his enthusiasm stooping down to the right reverend father, Do you know what, my lord?—That is a damned clever rascal.' The application was on the surface. Mr. M'Donagh is exactly hit off in Lord Eldon's illustration of a far greater man, omitting the last suspicious compliment. He is, in truth, a gay, bold, dashing thief, who steals away judgments or verdicts by ready knowledge or polished artifice. He is subdolous as the serpent,-sly, soft, and silkenskinned, from whose bewitching tongue nothing is safe. His mellifluous tones would charm the hooded snake. What a tale of woe does he construct out of the indubitable rogueries of that Scapin of a client of his ! If addressed in his behalf to the Lord Mayor of London, "Friends to humanity" would make the knave's fortune in a single week. Mr. M'Donagh is the motion-lawyer: therein lies his business and his skill. He distances all competitors in the easy and off-hand style with which he unfolds the most complicated statement of facts, and the facile familiarity with which he serves up the law. He is never unprepared. No matter how the argument may shift from the original position, his quickness of perception and versatility are so great, and his knowledge so thoroughly under his command, that surprise is impossible. He may be defeated, but he goes down with colours flying. He is the most finished artist at the bar, though he sullies qualities otherwise brilliant and incomparable, by the unmasculine form in which they are presented. He was among the first engaged, and took part in all the smart skirmishes which preceded the close of the first act. In the blasts of ill-temper which the Attorney-General discharged in the commencement of the management, the first volume fell on Mr. M'Donagh. After making a cursory observation, it was tartly observed by Mr. Smith, that he was only an amicus curiæ, and demanded his license! The Attorney-General is a gentleman, and, of his own will, would never have so insulted a brother. He yielded to the suggestions of vulgar vindictiveness, and stained himself by the ungracious act. Mr. M'Donagh did not resent the attack. There is a dignity in silence, and perhaps he properly yielded to that sovereign influence; but there would have been more dignity, or, at least, more effect, in a display of manly resistance. The rebuke was unprecedented in rashness, and uncovered the conduct of the crown to an indignant reply; but Mr. M'Donagh kept his temper cool, and his tongue quiet. Had Mr. Whiteside been so questioned-had his license been demanded in open court, what an impetuous torrent would have drowned the daring interrogator! The privileges of the bar as well

as personal honour would have been maintained with that lofty energy for which he is conspicuous. Perish silk gowns !-perish honours ! perish all before "that dignity which doth become a man!" The suddenness of the attack must have caused Mr. M'Donagh's silence, for he rallied on the next argument, and hit the Attorney-General with some sharpness.

In a former paper we gave the distinguishing attributes of Mr. Moore's character, and as we may be tempted hereafter to venture on a more prolix analysis, we shall be brief in our present observations. He is counsel for Mr. O'Connell. In the structure of his intellect he bears a strong resemblance to Mr. Henn, being like him a lawyer of principles, as contradistinguished from the case and point-hunters. In argument he is somewhat more energetic, and his hard though not untuned voice is an admirable vehicle for strong, substantial reasoning. We are not quite so certain that he will prove as efficient a leader as Mr. Henn, but he will prove an able auxiliary in discussing the important questions of evidence which will be raised on both sides. He has been hitherto very active in the motion warfare, and on one occasion, when the Attorney-General declared that the practice of the court should yield to the privileges of the crown, Mr. Moore, lifting up his spectacles and looking fiercely at the propounder of departed prerogative rights, expressed his astonishment that such doctrines should find a living voice in those days. Whether jealousy of the crown touched the spirit of the bench, or the common rules of the court are inflexible in their application, be the suitor a sovereign or a subject-whichever of the courses be correct, Mr. Moore succeeded in obtaining four golden days, though he declared, with the solemnity of Solomon, that the "law's delay" was not of his solicitudes!

Mr. Fitzgibbon is a shrewd, clear-headed, hard-cheeked lawyertough as yew and unbending as oak. Without the address of Mr. M'Donagh, he is his match in all things else. He is good at a crossbold and yet circumspect in a speech-lucid and wiry in argument. His style is modelled on that of Chief Justice Pennefather when at the bar. He enunciates his propositions separately and in order, not suffering them to trip up the heels of each other; and the result is, a well-arranged system of disciplined reasoning. Of all the combatants whom Mr. M'Donagh has to encounter, the toughest and most inflexible is Mr. Fitzgibbon. He knows all the varied arts of his antagonist, and seeks to refute or ridicule them with a severity which makes Mr. M'Donagh laugh outright, though his feelings run in a less joyous current. If Mr. Whiteside is a mastiff, Mr. Fitzgibbon is the Irish wolf-dog-staid and sober until roused, and then he attacks with bitter pertinacity. We have much faith in the firmness of Mr. Fitzgibbon. Some say he is too dogmatical, never retreating from a position until he has defended it to the last breath, daring even to incur the manifestations of impatience exhibited by the jaded court, sooner than abandon the post which he still hopes to make good. This is not dogmatism-it is earnestness, and no man ever deserved a fee, ungifted with that sterling and sincere quality. Others assert that he has a wicked tongue. It is doubtless cutting and caustic betimes, but

where it wags offensively, be assured the victim deserves his flaying. Passages at arms have occurred between him and the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, with all courtesy, however, on both sides; but in the one gentle encounter we witnessed, we must say that the reason and the triumph lay with his lordship. When on the finding of the indictment, the traversers resisted the entry of the rule to plead until furnished with a copy, Mr. F. stood at the side-bar among a " multitude of counsellors," with no room to sit, and very little to stand on. From this uncomfortable situation he addressed the court in a short but most expressive argument. He is retained by Mr. Barrett, of the Pilot newspaper, whose paper-shots in former times were lavished on Mr. Fitzgibbon with slashing prodigality. All these things are now forgotten, and Mr. Fitzgibbon will do his duty.

The remaining leaders are Messrs. Shiel, Pigott, Hatchell, and Monahan. The first is associated with Fitzgibbon, and will speak, we believe, on behalf of Mr. Barrett. He reserves himself for the grand display, and a splendid piece of declamation will he contribute to the next volume of Howell. On him, more than any other, with the exception of Mr. O'Connell, is the eagerness of the bar concentrated. There is quite a furor among the rising generation of barristers to hear the "shrill, ear-piercing fife" of the eloquent member for Dungarvan. Visions of delight float before each eye. To hear Mr. Shiel nature will be sacrificed. Already devices are being contrived to secure early places. Some will take an early breakfast on sandwiches some bribe the doorkeeper-some walk the hall through the night—some will sleep in the judges' chairs—and all to hear the member for Dungarvan! What a magnificent variety of fireworks! purple, green, and golden !-what serpents, stars, and revolving-wheels of dazzling light, will he scatter about in profusion! The liberty of the press the theme - most fascinating incentive to ample liberty of tongue! Mr. Hatchell must be dispatched briefly. His tact in crossexamination is most masterly. That little smart grey eye of his is the window of his soul. If there be any well-prepared fabricator on the side of the crown, the parts of his story must cohere with wonderful exactness, or Mr. Hatchell will slip in through some of the open joints. He is the most dexterous unraveller of the accomplishments of low roguery. Step by step, he unconsciously leads him forth, until he stands confessed, what he struggles in vain to avoid,-a villain. Mr. Monahan is a very sound and able man-rapid of utterance and ripe in learning. Under the Whigs he was fast rising to distinction, and, in the event of a change, had a passing fair chance of the solicitorgeneralship; but his scale, like that of many others, ascended, and all await the restoration. Having limited our notice to the senior bar on both sides, we cannot, without injustice, pass over the powerful aid found by the traversers in the junior bar-Sir Colman Loughlin, the worthy representative of an illustrious lawyer, the late Master of the Rolls, Mr. O'Hagan, and Mr. Close. As is the duty of all juniors, they were the secret streams that fed the open fountain-theirs was the thunder, though others hurled it, or, in less metaphorical language, they supplied the staple of the arguments. The first argued the demurrer learnedly and logically; and the second, the traversers'