that in future life, any person who had once heard a debate in the Irish House of Commons had no occasion to ask the names of the parties imitated.
Well received in the upper circles of London, he found an introduction to Charles Townshend, then a member of the Ministry. One of the occasions proved to be a convivial entertainment protracted till the dawn of morning. The chief provocative to this excess was an amusing display of the talents of Jephson. He exhibited with remarkable fidelity and humour representations of persons with whom the parties present were familiar—the Duke of Newcastle, Lord North, Lord Northington, Alderman Beckford, Glover (author of Leonidas), and others of note. So well was this done that Charles Townshend, in a fit of admiration, started from his chair, embraced him with rapture, and vowed to make him his secretary. This enthusiasm passed away with the moment; but he was not forgotten. When his brother, Lord Townshend, went to Ireland as viceroy, Jephson was put upon the list for an office in the household, and soon became Master of the Horse. A seat in Parliament followed. In the society of the “Castle” and its chief, amid the wit, talents, and hospitality which then shone pre-eminent in Dublin, he found the position fitted above all others for that species of enjoyment where the “flow of soul” was aided by liberal streams of claret and whisky punch.
But he possessed some higher merits. That taste for poetry and the drama already alluded to which had been early imbibed, became fostered by intimacy with the leading actors of London. In the Irish
