of his father and uncle, where much of the genius and wit of Dublin were to be found. Their politics and tastes were then similar; and substantial private qualities ripened into sincere regard. The topics of the moment, as being too exciting, were often forgotten in their correspondence. Literature, criticism, and rare books, frequently superseded politics, poetry, and law. In fact, the former three in quiet times formed the natural tastes of both; sought by one as relief from private disquiet, by the other in order to forget for a time those ferments in which commercial injustice and parliamentary control from the sister island had embroiled his country.
Possessed of sound common sense, his lordship had likewise that moderation of tone in which Irishmen are sometimes deficient. He would go as far as prudent men may fairly go, but no farther. He was the drag-chain that kept that mighty engine, the volunteers of 1782, from running over their leaders. Altogether he was, perhaps, the most popular man ever seen in Ireland—but he wanted one faculty to become the greatest—that was the gift of public speaking. The want of it threw him back upon his books and pen. He wrote, it is said, pretty largely; but from timidity and reserve shrunk from the honours of the press. His letters, however, make us fully acquainted with the man. An epistolary intercourse with Malone commenced soon after the removal of the latter to London, which continued nearly to the close of life. These furnish evidence of scholar-like propensities, pursued in those useful and innocent hours which thought and intelligence can win in its library when
