others of a more soothing and philosophic cast. The catastrophe, at the prospect of which I shuddered, it was still in my own power to avert. The sufferings that I endured were, after all, the factitious growth of an unwise ambition. I was still young and independent, and might, by one manly effort, sever myself for ever from the spell that bound me; I might transport myself to some distant scene, and find in tranquillity and letters an asylum from the feverish cares that now bore me down. The thought was full of comfort, and I loved to return to it. I reviewed the different countries in which such a resting-place might best be found, and was not long in making a selection. Switzerland, with her lakes and hills, and moral and poetic associations, rose before me: there inhabiting a delightful cottage on the margin of one of her lakes, and emancipated from the conventional inquietudes that now oppressed me, I should find my health and my healthy sympathies revive. In my present frame of mind, the charms of such a philosophic retreat were irresistible. I determined to bid an eternal adieu to demurrers and special contracts, and had already fixed upon the time for executing my project, when an unexpected obstacle interposed. My sole means of support was the profit-rent, of which I have already spoken. The land, out of which it arose, lay in one of the insurrectionary districts; and a letter from my agent in the country announced that not a shilling of it could be collected. In the state of nervous exhaustion to which the "blue books" and the blue devils had reduced me, I had no strength to meet this unexpected blow. To the pangs of disappointed ambition were now added the horrors of sudden and hopeless poverty. I sank almost without a struggle, and becoming seriously indisposed, was confined to my bed for a week, and for more than a mouth to the house. When I was able to crawl out, I moved mechanically toward the Courts. On entering the Hall, I met my friend, the king's counsel, who had formerly advised the Bethesda he was struck by my altered appearance, inquired with much concern into the particulars of my recent illness, of which he had not VOL. II.-8 heard before, and, urging the importance of change of air, insisted that I should accompany him to pass a short vacation then at hand at his country-house in the vicinity of Dublin. The day after my arrival there, I received a second letter from my agent, containing a remittance, aud holding out more encouraging prospects for the future. After this I recovered wonderfully, both in health and in spirits. My mind, so agitated of late, was now, all at once, in a state of the most perfect tranquillity: from which I learned, for the first time, that there is nothing like the excitement of a good practical blow (provided you recover from it) for putting to flight a host of imaginary cares. I could moralize at some length on this subject, but I must hasten to a conclusion. The day before our return to town, my friend had a party of Dublin acquaintances at his house: among the guests was the late Mr. D, an old attorney in considerable business, and his daughter. In the evening, though it was summertime, we had a dance. I led out Miss D: I did so, I seriously declare, without the slightest view to the important consequences that ensued. After the dance, which (I remember it well) was to the favorite and far-famed "Leg-of-Mutton jig," I took my partner aside, in the usual way, to entertain her. I began by asking if "she was not fond of poetry?" She demanded "why I asked the question?" I said, “Because I thought I could perceive it in the expression of her eyes." She blushed, "protested I must be flattering her, but admitted that she was.' I then asked "if she did not think the Corsair a charming poem ?" She answered, "Oh, yes!""And would not she like to be living in one of the Grecian islands?"-"Oh, indeed she would.". Looking upon the blue waters of the Archipelago and the setting sun, associated as they were with the rest.". "How delightful it would be!" exclaimed she. "And so refreshing!" said I. I thus continued till we were summoned to another set. She separated from me with reluctance, for I could see that she considered iny conversation to be the sublimest thing that could be. The effect of the impression I had made soon appeared. Two days after, I received a brief in rather an important case from her father's office. I acquitted myself so much to his satisfaction, that he sent me another, and another, and finally installed me as one of his standing counsel for the junior business of his office. The opportunities thus afforded me brought me by degrees into notice. In the course of time, general business began to drop in upon me, and has latterly been increasing into such a steady stream, that I am now inclined to look upon my final success as secure. I have only to add, that the twelve years I have passed at the Irish Bar have worked a remarkable change in some of my early tastes and opinions. I no longer, for instance, trouble my head about immortal fame; and, such is the force of habit, have brought myself to look upon a neatly-folded brief, with a few crisp Bank-of-Ireland notes on the back of it, as, beyond all controversy, the most picturesque object upon which the human eye can alight. LORD MANNERS. On the 31st day of July, in the year of our Lord 1827, Lord Manners, the late Keeper of his Majesty's Irish Conscience, bade the Irish bar farewell.* The scene which took place upon that melancholy occasion deserves to be recorded. It being understood that an address of professional condolence on behalf of the more loyal portion of the bar was to be pronounced by that tender enunciator of pathetic sentiment, the Attorney-General, the Court of Chancery was crowded at an early hour. The members of the Beef-Steak Club, with countenances in which it was difficult to determine whether their grief at the anticipated "export" from Ireland, or the traces * Lord Manners, was son of Lord George Manners, of the Ducal house of Rutland. He was born in 1756, was educated at Cambridge, where he obtained the honor of being fifth wrangler, and, having been called to the bar, in due time became Solicitor-General to the Prince of Wales, and one of his parliamentary adherents. In 1802, when made Solicitor-General to the king, he was knighted. In 1803 he was one of the official prosecutors of Colonel Despard, tried and executed for high treason. He was made one of the Barons of the Exchequer in 1805, and in 1807 was raised to the peerage, on being appointed Lord-Chancellor of Ireland, as successor to Mr. Ponsonby. On demanding the Seals, with all wonted formality, he discovered that he had accidentally left behind him the authority for assuming the new dignity! Lord Manners held the Irish Chancellorship for twenty years—until July, 1827, when he was recalled, and succeeded by Sir Anthony Hart. As an equity judge, he wanted capacity, and was further deficient, by being a decided political partisan. Many of his judgments were reversed by the House of Lords, and nothing but the fact that he was ultra-Protestant in his principles could have retained him, so long, in a position where the general opinion of the profession as to his con duct and qualifications was contemptuous in the extreme. He died in May, 1842, aged eighty-six.-M. HIS FRIENDSHIP FOR MR. SAURIN. 173 of their multitudinous convivialities, enjoyed a predominance, But the person most deserving of attention was Mr. Saurin. |