phical, and moral-a power of animating, arousing and controlling emotion, and of fixing and firing the intellect and soul-all such elements are marshalled by the imagination, which, while it impresses, gives the impetuous movement to his eloquence by which it is par excellence distinguished. The language which he uses, always admirable in choice and force of diction, and not unfrequently wonderful in its dithyrambic melody, is the furthest possible remove from the ordinary medium of parliamentary speakers; it bears the stamp of imagination. Though highly figurative, its ornament, always distributed with chastity of taste, rises naturally from the subject it illustrates; its metaphors and images, too, are singularly bright, striking, and original. Such, as among many others, the passage in his speech on the downfall of Buonaparte, in which, warning England against deserting her allies at that crisis, he says: "In vain have you stopped in your own person the flying fortunes of Europe-in vain have you taken the eagle of Napoleon, and snatched invincibility from his stand ard, if now, when confederated Europe is ready to march, you take the lead in desertion, and preach the penitence of Buonaparte and the poverty of England.' As an instance of his concrete imaginative phraseology, speaking of Ireland, in his oration on the Triumph of Independence: "She is no longer a wretched colony, returning thanks to her governor for his rapine, and to her king for his oppression; nor is she now a squabbling, fretful sectary, perplexing her little wits, and firing her furious statutes with bigotry, sophistry, disabilities, and death, to transmit to posterity insignificance and war." In his speech on Tithes there are many fine instances of his rapid style and splendid imagery; as in the appeal to the Irish Parliament, with which it concludes-"Were I to raise you to a great act, I would not recur to the history of other nations; I would recite your own, and set you in emulation with yourselves. Do you remember the night when you gave your country a free trade, and with your own hands opened all her harbours? That night when you gave her a free constitution, and broke In the chains of a century, when England, eclipsed at your glory and your island, rose, as it were, from its bed, and got nearer to the sun. power of invective the lowest, as of pathos the highest, element of oratory, Grattan displays an equal mastery: vide his philippics against Flood, Corry, and Duigenan, for the first; and for illustration of the latter, the words in which he expresses his relation to the extinct Irish senate, "Of the Parliament of Ireland I entertain a parental recollection. I sate by her cradle; I followed her hearse." Grattan's speeches on the Catholic question are the most laborious instances of his powers; but perhaps his oration on the declaration of Irish Right conveys the best idea of his genius as an orator. The following appears to us a more eloquent peroration than can be found in the oratory of any other nation or age : adequate to Ireland, so is it dangerous to "And as anything less than liberty is in ish nation, we are too conversant with her history, we are too much fired by her example, to be anything less than her equal; anything less, we should be her bitterest enemies-an enemy to that power which smote us with her mace, and to that constitution from whose blessings we were excluded; to be ground as we have been by the British nation, bound by her parlia ment, plundered by her crown, threatened while we returned thanks for her condeby her enemies, insulted with her protection, scension, is a system of meanness and misery which has expired in our determination, as I hope it has in her magnanimity. Great Britain. We are too near the Brit "Do not tolerate that power which blasted you for a century, that power which shattered your loom, banished your manufactures, dishonoured your peerage, and stopped the growth of your people; do not, I say, be bribed by an export of woollen, or which has thus withered the land to remain an import of sugar, and permit that power in your country and have existence in your pusillanimity. "Do not suffer the arrogance of England to imagine a surviving hope in the fears of Ireland; do not send the people to their own resolves for liberty, passing by the triliament; neither imagine that, by any forbunals of justice and the high court of par commission to your hearts, still less to your mation of apology, you can palliate such a children, who will sting you with their curses in your grave for having interposed between them and their Maker, robbing them of an immense occasion, and losing an opportunity which you did not create, and can never restore. "Hereafter, when these things shall be history, your age of thraldom and poverty, your sudden resurrection, commercial redress, and miraculous armament, shall the historian stop at liberty, and observe-that here the principal men among us fell into mimic trances of gratitude-they were awed by a weak ministry, and bribed by an empty treasury-and when liberty was within their grasp, and the temple opened her folding doors, and the arms of the people clanged, and the zeal of the nation urged and encouraged them on, that they fell down, and were prostituted at the threshold. "I might, as a constituent, come to your bar, and demand my liberty. I do call upon you, by the laws of the land and their violation, by the instruction of eighteen counties, by the arms, inspiration, and providence of the present moment, tell us the rule by which we shall go,-assert the law of Ireland,-declare the liberty of the land. "I put it to your oaths: Do you think that a blessing of that kind, that a victory obtained over bigotry and oppression should have a stigma cast upon it, by an ignominious sentence upon men bold and honest enough to propose that measure? to propose the redeeming of religion from the abuses of the church; the reclaiming of three millions of men from bondage; and giving liberty to all who had a right to demand it? Giving, I say, in the so much censured words of the paper, giving UNIVERSAL EMANCIPATION? I speak in the spirit of the British law, which makes liberty commensurate with, and inseparable from British soil; which proclaims even to the stranger and sojourner, the moment he sets foot upon British earth, that the ground on which he treads is holy, and consecrated by the genius of Universal Emancipation. No matter in what language his doom may have been pronounced; no matter what complexion incompatible with freedom an Indian or an African sun may have burned upon him; no matter in what "I will not be answered by a public lie, in disastrous battle his liberty may have been the shape of an amendment; neither, speak- cloven down; no matter with what solemniing for the subjects' freedom, am I to hear ties he may have been devoted upon the altar of slavery-the first moment he touches of faction. I wish for nothing but to breathe, in this our island, in common with the sacred soil of Britain, the altar and the my fellow-subjects, the air of liberty. I god sink together in the dust; his soul walks abroad in her own majesty; his body have no ambition, unless it be the ambition to break your chain, and contemplate your swells beyond the measure of the chains that burst from around him, and he stands glory. I never will be satisfied so long as the meanest cottager in Ireland has a link redeemed, regenerated, and disenthralled by of the British chain clanking to his rags; the irresistible genius of Universal Emancihe may be naked, he shall not be in iron; pation." and I do see the time is at hand, the spirit is gone forth, the declaration is planted; and though great men should apostatize, yet the cause will live; and though the public speaker should die, yet the immortal fire shall outlast the organ which conveyed it, and the breath of liberty, like the word of the holy man, will not die with the prophet, but survive him. "I shall move you, "That the King's most excellent Majesty, and the Lords and Commons of Ireland, are the only power competent to make laws to bind Ireland." The eloquence of Curran, who possessed exhaustless wit and humour, and the natural adjunct of the latter, pathos, is chiefly forensic; but though far inferior to that of Plunket in logic, as to that of Grattan in splendour and fire, his speech in defence of Hamilton Rowan (which is modelled on the Pro Milo of Cicero) contains, perhaps, the most finished oratorical passage in modern eloquence. It is equal to the finest of Cicero, both in the elevation of its tone and the rhetorical perfection of its harmony : The question how far a speaker is to trust to improvisation, is one, of course, involved in the self-knowledge of the orator himself. Judging from the examples of eloquence which have been conserved, and traditional accounts of effects produced, it is evident, that while the greatest speeches have been studiously prepared the greatest bursts have been improvised; a fact obvious indeed, and illustrated by the long line of orators from Demosthenes to Burke, from Chatham to Mirabeau. The following eloquent passage, from Dupin's Inaugural Address, delivered before the French Academy in 1834, is worth inserting, as it sets forth the merits and demerits of improvisation, which, however, as we have said, must be a matter for individual consideration : "Invoquons de grands souvenirs et de grands exemples! Nos orateurs politiques les plus renommés, Mirabeau, Barnave, de Serre, le général Foy, n'ont-ils pas prouvé que celui qui s'abandonne au milieu de ces circonstances ardentes à tous les hasards de l'improvisation, trouve quelquefois, dans l'embarras même de sa situation, des secours inespérés ? "Quoique non préparé sur les mots, s'il connaît bien les choses, s'il sent vivement, s'il est soutenu par la conscience du bien, au milieu même de tant d'isolement-dans ce trouble incessamment apporté au développement de sa pensée par les interruptions les plus vives et les clameurs parfois les plus insenées-dans ces tourment de toutes ses facultés, il lui arrivera de rencon trer des tours, des expressions, des hardiesses qui ne viendraient pas trouver une homme moins fortement excité. "Ce que perdront le style et la belle ordonnance, l'orateur le regagnera du côté de l'action, de cette action oratoire à laquelle les anciens accordaient les trois premiers rangs. Sa main ne tiendra pas un cahier; son œil ne sera pas fixé sur son scriture, il retrouvera l'arme du regard; son esprit ne sera pas livré aux incertitudes de la mémoire; libre dans son allure comne ces cavaliers Numides qui montaient a crù et sans frein, il luttera corps à corps avec son auditoire; maître de retenir ou de laisser aller son discours, de glisser sur ce qui commencerait à déplaire comme d'insister sur ce qui aura fait sensation; et, s'il est bien inspiré, son succès dépassera l'effet des discours les plus étudiés! Alors éclateront ces vives sympathies, ces retours électriques de l'assemblée sur l'orateur, qui l'avertiront qu'il a conquis les votes, et que la majorité vient a lui!" There is, perhaps, no finer manifestation of the power of the human mind than that of an orator, launched unexpectedly on the ocean of improvisation, struggling onwards toward his object; extemporizing thought after thought; now apparently overwhelmed in a storm of interruption, yet rising stronger from opposition; now suddenly collecting his ideas in an interval of applause, battling with and conquering both himself and his audience, and mounting triumphantly billow after billow, until at last he reaches his desired goal together with his auditory. To inform, to please, to excite the feelings, such, according to Cicero, are the three objects of the orator. But from this category he omits its ultimate end, persuasion-the power of convincing. The art of the highest eloquence may be said chiefly to consist in satisfying the understanding and reason, and exciting the imagination and passions, to persuade and exalt, and impel. These essentials. also, he requires :- Knowledge of human nature, of himself, of his subject, and his audiences. He must be clear and attractive in his statements; lucid in the arrangement and sequence of his arguments; impassioned in his address to the passions, all whose springs and effects he has studied. An oration must have its lights and shades, its levels and heights, its harmonious intermixture of the clear and commonplace, the animated, the striking, and emotive-all tending to the special object in view, all effectively intermingled. Its ornaments (chiefly adapted to the level portions) must be introduced with chaste and consistent severity of taste, and have the appearance of following the subject with involuntary illustrative naturalness, rather than assuming an attractive prominence over it--such illuminations must illustrate, not divert. Speaking throughout with preconsidered prospective directness te the point, the orator must rise fron the foundation of reason to sentiment, imagination, and passion, and must unite thought with emotion, and, so to speak, creating a storm with the passions of his own soul, hurry those of his audience along with him. THE COLLEGE GATE. [Foley's fine statue of Goldsmith stands now in front of Trinity College, in this city, where it commands the admiration of everybody. It is only placed there in a temporary way, but when the pedestal is completed the statue will be erected upon it and inaugurated with due ceremony.] "He took his degree of Bachelor of Arts on the 27th February, 1749. He was lowest in the list."-Forster's Life of Oliver Goldsmith. A LAD slunk out of the College gate, He stole to a lodging, up three pair of stairs, "Just passed through!--and so many a lad "An awkward, ungainly, diminutive dolt, He whispered some melodies into his flute, "The coif, or the mitre,-it is not for me: I shall ne'er be addressed as 'my lord'; "Well! jests, at least, at the gate again None shall fling at 'the Graduate's' head; Now, as ye enter that College gate, Yes! the strains from that wretched flute Though "Noll" was a drudge so long as he lived, And what is this world?-the College gate, And the statue is posthumous fame. ADVENA. THE GRAND TOUR. IN days when these islands were ruled by the early Georges, the education of no young gentleman was considered complete till he had achieved the feat indicated by the title of this paper, i.e., paid a visit to the courts and capitals of the European Powers. Taking the ranks and the dispositions of the tourists into account, there was a great variety in the mode of adding the finishingtouch to the work of our schools and universities. The son of the influential nobleman had his introduction to the Court of this or that Grand Duke or King, and was present on grand ceremonial occasions, at great dinners, and huge drinking-bouts, and at boar and stag hunts. If he was disposed to acquire advanced notions in the art of governing people with the least trouble to, and the greatest advantage of, the governing party, he had the finest facilities afforded him by the Metterniches and the Pombals of the age. If born with a foible for self-indulgence, he would probably discover some varieties of vice, as yet uncultivated, at the Court of St. James's. Tourists with less pretension would find greater or less welcome into the good () society of country or city, and according as wisdom or folly ruled, would turn their opportunities to account by visits to galleries, libraries, public institutions, and learned men, or abuse their privileges by frequenting gambling-houses, and cultivating the society of men and women of evil lives. A bad feature in the custom was the doing of the Grand Tour, in many instances, before Lord Altamont or the Honourable John Smith had thoroughly completed their college course. If the travelling tutor did his duty as a man of conscience, he insisted on his idly-disposed pupil devoting some hours per diem to study, and wrote to his honoured patron in England an unvarnished narrative of his unsatisfactory progress, and how he spent many more hours at the Spielhaus, the Gasthaus, and a worse Haus still, than at prayer and study. In this state of things the inter-relations of pupil and tutor would be far from agreeable; but even that would be preferable to connivance or participation on the part of the philosopher and friend. On the whole, it would require study and experience to settle the balance of good and evil resulting from the institution of the Grand Tour. That youngsters were sent abroad in this fashion may be gathered from many contemporary authorities; but we will send our readers no farther than to the Spectator of 28th April, 1712, where Mr. Philip Homebred enlarges on the custom, and protests against it : "I cannot but believe that this humour of carrying a boy to travel, upon pretence of learning men and things, carries on it a particular stamp of folly. Nothing is more frequent than to take a lad from grammar and taw, and under the tuition of some poor scholar, who is willing to be banished for £30 a-year and a little victuals, send him crying and snivelling into foreign countries. He spends his time in staring and gaping at an infinite number of strange things, quite unprepared to comprehend the reasons and meaning of them, whilst he should be laying the solid foundations of knowledge in his mind, and furnishing it with just rules to direct his future progress in life, under some skilful master. . I wish, sir, you would make people understand, that travel is really the last step to be taken in the institution of youth, and to set out with it is to begin where they should end. "The true end of visiting foreign parts is to look into their customs and policies, and observe in what particulars they excel, or come short of our own,-to unlearn some odd peculiarities in our manners, and wear off such awkward stiffnesses and affectations in our behaviour, as may have been contracted from constantly associating with one nation of men, by a more free, general, and mixed conversation. But how can any one of these advantages be attained by one who is a stranger to the customs and policies of his native country, and has not fixed in his mind the first principles of manners and behaviour? To endeavour it is to build a gaudy structure without any foundation; or, if I may be allowed the expression, to work a rich embroidery upon a cobweb. "Another end of travelling, which deserves to be considered, is the improving |