posed, and the talent with which he natained them, until the next dissoition in 1797; but in the Parliament of 1800, which sanctioned the memorable union, we do not find the subject of the memoir to have been a member. It would seem, that during this interval, he had employed himself with peculiar diligence and great lucrative advantage, in the higher paths of his profession. The silk gown which he had pot on, gave him importance, and procured him a great accession of business, both in the King's Bench and at the Ceaccery Bar. The cases in which he was principally employed, were such as required the exertion of all his oratoricai qualifications, which he did not fail to display in all their peculiar characteristics of poignant irony and witty reErk. In the mean time, it may be said of him, that he had arrived at the full accomplishment of his hopes-the increase of his income kept pace with the progress of his fame. But it unfortu. alely happened that although the latter Was established, the former soon after became materially affected by the consequences of his former hostility to the Attorney-General.* whom both in the House and at the Bar, he had invariably opposed with all the force of his eloqueace and the acrimony of his wit. An hostility which produced a personal condict in the field of honour. When tins Gentleman ascended the woolsack, (ender the title of the Earl of Clare,) be retained all his asperity of feeling towards Mr. Curran, and the frowns of power effected what the opposition of threat could not succeed in producing a considerable diminution of his interest and emoluments in the Chancery Court. This enmity, however, although it was the cause of Mr. Curran's leaving that Court, did not prevent him from distinguishing himself in the other Courts, and in the ranks of opposition. Some of his speeches delivered in ParHament were recorded. That made in 1753, upon the question of right in the Commons of Ireland to originate all Money Bills; and two others in 1785, sae on the commercial intercourse between Great Britain and Ireland; and one apon the matter of Attachments. Two also, which he delivered in 1786, is support of a Bill for limiting Irish Pensions; and an address of consum ✦ Mr. Fitzgibbon. mate ability and great legal knowledge, in favour of " Emancipation," ten years after. Many of his forensic speeches upon different occasions, which were of great interest both to his individual clients and the public in general, have been published, but, we believe, in no authenticated form. These are ten in number: 1st. In behalf of Archibald Hamilton Rowan, Esq. for a libel. 2d.-In behalf of Mr. Patrick Finney, for high treason. 3d. In behalf of Mr. Peter Finnerty, for a libel. 4th.-In behalf of Oliver Bond, Esq. for high treason. 5th. In behalf of Lady Pamela Fitzgerald and children, against the Bill of Attainder of Lord Edward Fitzgerald. 6th. In the action for false imprisonment, by Mr. John Hevey against Major Sirr. 7th. In the trial of Owen Kirwan, for high treason. 8th. In the action brought by the Rev. Charles Massey, against the Marquis of Headfort, for adultery. 9th. In the cause of the King against the Hon. Mr. Justice Johnson. 10th. In the cause of Merry versus the Right Rev. Dr. John Power, Roman Catholic Bishop of Waterford. We have not room within that space of our miscellany usually allotted to the Memoir, to introduce, in this instance, any critical remarks upon these speeches, in a distinct form. But we are glad to avail ourselves of an opinion which has been given of these speeches by a Northern Review; and we quote it with the more pleasure, because it conveys a more liberal estimate of Irish oratory, than what that publication contained upon a subsequent occasion, when the speech of Charles Phillips, Esq. in the action of Guthrie versus Sterne, was the subject of their criticism:-"If (says the Review in question, of October, 1808,) it be the test of supreme genius to produce strong and permanent emotions, the passages which we have quoted must be in the very highest style of eloquence." In a previous passage, they have declared," this style to be of Irish origin, and to have attained to its highest honours only in its na tive soil." The eloquence which is thus justly characterized, and which Mr. Curran certainly possessed in an eminent de losing by his conscious superiority of talent one of those numerous friends which the good qualities of his heart, as well as the bright endowments of his mind had secured to him. The natural generosity of his disposition induced him to rejoice in every opportunity of encouraging rising genius, and he never refused his advice, or withheld his approbation, either in private or public, when he perceived the slightest probability of promoting the advantage and prosperous progress of any man of ability and desert. Some months before his decease, his friends perceived a manifest, though gradual decay of his mental and physical faculties; and at the house of Mr. Moore, the author of Lalla Hookh, he was first seized with an attack of paralysis, which after two other successive strokes, deprived him of existence. He breathed his last in the bosom of his family, on the 15th day of October, 1817; dying with great composure, and almost without a struggle. gree, gave a weight to his influence, which attracted the notice of those of his friends who formed the Administration of 1806. He was offered and accepted the appointment of Master of the Rolls, worth 50007. a-year. This he resigned in 1814, to his successor, the Right Hon. Sir William M'Mahon, Bart. a relation of Sir John M Mahon, Bart. the late respected Secretary to His Royal Highness the Prince Regent. There is but one decision of Mr. Curran's, as Master of the Rolls, which has been printed, that of Merry v. the Right Rev. 1. Power, D D. the titular Bishop of Waterford. This decision is consi dered as intelligent and liberal two qualities which might naturally be expected to form the prominent features of a Judge who, by their constant application to all his professional acts, had attained all his popularity. His resig nation of this high office was accompa nied with a pension, on which, and the profits of his laborious exertions, he lived in affluent ease; until that period arrived which was to extinguish the last spark of an exalted genius, that had been for upwards of 40 years the ornament and boast of the Irish Bar, astonishing and delighting by its impassioned force of expression, its vivid power of imagery, and its classical allusions, thousands of enraptured auditors; vindicating the innocent, appalling the guilty, and confounding the corrupt, by a most impressive combination of talent. He had for some time previous to his death been in the habit of paying occa sional visits to his friends in England, and had at length fixed his residence at Brompton, where amid a select society of congenial minds he enjoyed the full possession of the otium cum dignitate. In those hours of festive association be was unequalled in the sound arguments of a vigorous understanding, in the bril liant sallies of a lively fancy, and in those superior powers of wit, which appeared to be habitual to him, and always at his To the Editor of the European Magazine. command. Yet with all his information and powers of reasoning, he was never known to assume the importance of dogmatical wisdom, nor did he ever allow the shafts of his wit to inflict a wanton wound; and such was the ur. banity of his manners, and the sweetness of his converse, that few of his political adversaries allowed themselves to become his personal enemies; while he never experienced the mortification of In his person Mr. Curran was short and thin, but his countenance bore the physiognomy of considerable acuteness, and his eyes possessed a remarkable dedegree of animation. He has left two daughters and three sons, and among them a large portion of hereditary genius. His eldest son is in the navy, and his third has been called to the bar, distinguished by all those amiable traits of private character which endeared his celebrated father to society, and possessed of much of that professional ability, for which his revered parent was deservedly valued and admired, by all who had judgment sufficient to estimate it aright, and enough of ingenuous feeling to acknowledge it without any ad verse bias of party prejudice or prepos session. SIR, H. G. W. F the following original letter of M. Colbert, (Minister of State under Louis XIV.) addressed by him to his soa M. de Seignelay, should meet your ap. probation, an early insertion of it will oblige, London, Feb. 1818. Your's, W. L. LETTER FROM M. COLBERT, MINISTER I AM sufficiently satisfied with your studies, but it is necessary to redouble your application, and to consider well what I have often said to you-that until you derive more gratification from study than from pleasure and amusement. I shall not be persuaded that you will ever have merit and virtue sufficient to follow my example. Again, in regard to your manners, I am not quite satisfied; and wish that you would pay attention to four essential points, concerning which you have often heard me speak: The first is, the obedience and respect which you owe to your masters, with a perpetual application to the tasks which they set you; this obedience and this respect ought to be accompanied with a great docility, and you ought more particularly to submit to it, because your nature is disposed to resist it. The second is, the friendship and good nature which you ought to show your brother, taking care never to treat him ill; on the contrary, when he commuts any fauit, never reprove him with ill-nature, nor in the presence of any one, but admonish him in private, with gentleness and good-nature. The third, that when engaged in any sport, and on all other occasions, you learn, when in fauit, to condemn.yourself on the spot, without employing yourself in disputes, which are always wrong when you know that you are in fault On the same subject I must add, that every time you doubt whether you have done wrong or not, it will says be better and more useful for Tothe Editor of the European Magazine. SIR, WISH to ask your mathematical readers, whether it has ever been observed, that, in the binomial theorem, the co-efficient of any term is always equal to the whole number of changes of order, that can be made in the letters denoting its quantities; and whether it is probable that any thing useful might result from the investigation of this truth. Thus, in (a) 3=as+5aax+10as% it will, of course, be shorter to take efficient of at3 is found = 35. the co7.6.5.. 1. 2. 3. W. GREEN. Hans Town, 3d Feb. 1818. To the Editor of the European Magazine. SIR, inserting the following answer your Correspondent H. you will con- less 1 X 4 2 Your's, &c. E. M. 1280 rods, or 4 miles 80 distance to and from the house. you to condemn yourself, than to lose Xx=1200 -x=600 x2-x+1= 600 + x − 1 = √ 600+ £ = 244 2, or number of trees = 25 Answer. 1 N 1 For the EUROPEAN MAGAZINE. DANGER of complying too much with CUSTOM, exemplified in the CHARACTER of DISSIMULUS. S in all political bodies it is the for which he has no relish, and to acquiesce in, if not to support, opinions and practices which are equally repug nant to his feelings and his judgment; in short, to counterfeit a character A duty of every member to sacrifice which is any thing but his own, and to a certain portion of his individual liberty, in order to secure that of the community at large; so, in private life, it is equally incumbent upon every member of society to suffer his own opinions to give way, in a measure, to the general laws of established custom. But this maxim holds good only to a certain extent, to exceed which, is to verify the observation of a judicious writer on ethics, "that custom is like the fatal blast that destroys the bud of hope and expectation; and therefore we ought not to yield to any thing but what carries its evidence with it, or implicitly submit to custom, where the judgment does not wholly approve." It is difficult to decide whether the man is most deserving of our pity or contempt, who, gifted with the powers of ratiocination, and enlightened by a liberal education, voluntraily sacrifices his principles and opinions at the shrine of ignorance or stupidity, and from a subservient acquiescence with custom, is induced to lend his suffrage to the voice of folly, and to drown his senses in the maudlin delirium of intoxication Yet, that such instances of imbecility are to be met with in characters not .otherwise deficient of understanding, a very cursory insight into life and manners will demonstrate. . Dissimulus is a man whose turn of mind is naturally serious, and even saturaine, for whom society has few charms, and to whom the ordinary -commerce of mankind is oppressive and disgusting. His ruling passion is the Jove of ease, and he has no real enjoy ment beyond the verge of contemplative life: he loves to look behind the scenes, but is averse to taking a part on the great theatre of the world.. Unfortunately, however, or perhaps fortunately for Dissimulus, his station in life is such as to allow him but few opportunities of gratifying his appetite for seclusion, and indulging in that home contemplation which is his supreme delight. Engaged in an active profession, for which he is by nature every way unqualified, and obliged to associate with men of the world, whose dispositions are entirely opposite to his own, he is compelled to participate of pleasures appear to be every thing but what he really is. This pliability of temper leads him into a thousand ridiculous distresses. Dissimulus is invited to spend an evening with a set of good fellows; he readily accepts the invitation from a dread of giving offence by a refusal; though were he to consult his own inclination, he would as soon think of spending his evening in one of the cells at Beclam. The accustomed forms of introduction, accompanied by the usual number of nothings expressed on those occasions, having been gone through, Dissimulus takes his seat amongst his jolly companions, the bottle is briskly circulated, and Dissimulus swallows off his bumper with an air of great seeming satisfaction, smacks his lips, and joins in the general commendation of the quality and flavor of the wine, though, in reality, a dose of ipecacuanha would be equally grateful to his palate. As the wine circulates, my friend's natural taciturnity wears off, he becomes more and more exhilirated, None laughs louder, or clubs a smuttier tale;" none sings a merrier catch, or lends a hand more willing to his cup; 'till at length, from the narcotic effects of the potent liquor, he falls into a kind of apoplexy, and finally sinks under the table, whilst his companions pronounce his eulogium, in drunken vociferations of A dd good fellow!" To have established his claim to this meritorious and respectable appellation, is all that Dissimulus has gained, or is likely to gain, by living at continual variance with himself: his life is made up of follies committed at night, and repented of in the morning; of resolutions formed in the morning, only to be broken through at night; and thus, through a culpable and pusillanimous surrender of his own better judgment, to comply with the customs, the vices, and the caprices of others, is Dissimulus doomed to pass through life, without acquiring the esteem of the virtuous and sensible part of mankind, and (what is at lenst of equal importance) without being able to secure the approbation of his own conscience. R. A. D. PORTFOLIO. EXTRACTS FROM A LAWYER'S whence we looked down into the arena of a vast kitchen, where only a few white cows were now feeding. The gallery where we stood afforded another cheerless prospect over the neglected (Continued from page 12.) Tan early period of my life, I was A requested by a respectable attor circumstances. ney to accompany him on his professional visit to a fady in very peculiar Our journey brought us at the close of day to a ruined farm yard and forsaken church, which formed, to my great surprise, the entrance of an extessive park. A grove of limes and evergrown hawthorns brushed the sides of my postchaise, till a broad pond fed by a leaden Hercules compelled our postillion to make a detour over unshorn grass, which brought us circuitously to the wide and rudelysculptured front of the mansion. Instead of ascending an enormous flight of steps to the hall, we passed underneath them to what might be called the sub-house or basement, where a grey porter received us sitting in his antique chair with two lean mastiffs chained near him, and a prim dame busied in polishing the vast brass dogs and bra zen bearth, where a pile of yule-logs was hoarded. She led us through a saloon decorated with immense mir Tors, tables infaid with ivory, and gilded window-shutters, while the plaister hung crumbling from the walls, and a few bats and swallows fluttered in the corners, where rich Indian jars and cabinets stood uncovered. Among six or seven needless doors, she found one which opened into a long suite of rooms, whose pannels were of ebony carved in superb compartments, which the barbarous taste of former owners bad punted white. Through the vista formed by these dreary chambers, we saw the baked arches and broken win dess of a gothic ball-room, which, as our guide informed us, would be non converted into a garden. A few strus and creeping flowers were al ready clustered among the pillars with picturerque and touching effect. At the farther end of this ruin we discerned the remains of a deserted chapei, contrasting the light architecture of the ball-room as mournfully as the dim desolation of the other apartments opposed their relics of splendor. But our wais did not end here;-an unexpected staircase led us to a gallery in which several doors opened, not into other chambers, but among the groined arches which sustained a vaulted roof, from Europ. Mag. Fol. LXXIII. Feb. 1818, park, from noncony filled with lichens and coarse wall-flowers, creeping among a few roses, now almost as wild. Only some mildewed volumes of Froissart's Chronicle, and an ancient folio of heraldry, occupied the libraryshelves; but a long series of family portraits, from the date of Magna Charta, remained in decayed frames on the walls. Some traces of gaudy splendor and aristocratic pomp still appeared in these portraits, which rendered the next scene more touching. Our attendant, making us a sign of silence, opened a pair of folding-doors, and discovered a room profoundly dark, except where a single candle in a massy silver candelabra stood on a table before the mistress of the mansion. She was wrapped in black velvet, with a mouraing hood drawn over a face of singular length and ghastliness, rendered more fearful by the dim glare of eyes whose glassy fixture indicated their unconsciousness. Almost wholly deprived of sight, she was capable of no enjoyment, except the feeble light of one candle, and of feeling continually the splendid candlestick which supported it. At this sad spectacle of helpless misery, clinging to the relics of unavailing grandeur, it was impossible to remain unmoved. A sigh or a sudden motion reached her ear, which blindness made peculiarly watchful; and her tremulous shriek, her faint effort to grasp the silver candlestick, and the palsied motion of her shrivelled lips, expressed the agony of impotent avarice and suspicion too piteously to be borne. I was turning to leave the room, when the lean old man we had noticed in the ball emerged from a dark corner near his mistress, and uttering some sounds which she appeared to understand, beckoned the attorney and myself to advance. My friend addressed the miserable woman in a tone of courtesy; and perceiving that she listened without seeming displeased, reminded her of the purport of his coming. "To make my will!" she replied, in a tone which resembled the echo in a vault-" O yes! I rememberbut there is nothing now to give but this !" Aud drawing the candlestick closer, with a laugh more melancholy |
