Dean Kirwan, Sheridan, Curran and Grattan contrasted.

Chapter XXXIII.

Pulpit, Bar, and Parliamentary Eloquence

Biographical and characteristic sketch of Dean Kirwan - His extraordinary eloquence - The peculiar powers of Sheridan, Curran, and Grattan contrasted - Observations on pulpit, bar, and parliamentary oratory.

A comparative** **scale of the talents of the celebrated men of my day I have frequently attempted, but never with success. Though I knew most of them both in private and public, my mind could never settle itself to any permanent opinion on so complicated a subject. Nevertheless, I quite agree with the maxim of Pope, “that the noblest study of mankind is man!” and consequently the analysis of human character has ever formed one of my greatest amusements, though all endeavours to reduce my observations to a system have proved decidedly idle. Hence, I have at times grown out of humour with the science altogether, and made up my mind that there never was a more unprofitable occupation than that of determining a public character whilst the individual stilt lived. It is only after the grave has closed on men - when they can change no more, and their mortal acts are for ever terminated - that their respective natures become truly developed. This is a reflection that must surely force itself upon the mind and heart of every observant man.

The depressions of adversity generally leave the ostensible character pretty much as it appeared originally, save that it occasionally throws out either abjectness or fortitude, and that talent is sometimes elicited in a greater proportion than the sufferer was imagined to possess. But I have always seen high prosperity the true and almost infallible touchstone; and since I have had leisure to observe the world its effects upon my fellow-countrymen have proved more remarkable than upon the people of any other country, and indeed, in many instances, thoroughly ridiculous.

Eloquence, a first-rate quality in my scale, is that for which the Irish *were *eminently celebrated. But the exercise of this gift depends on so many accidental circumstances, and is withal so much regulated by fashion, that its decline is scarcely surprising. So few possess it, indeed, that it has become the interest of the only body in Ireland accustomed to extempore public speaking, the bar, to undervalue and throw it into the background, which they have effectually succeeded in doing. A dull fellow can cry, “Come to the point!” as well as the most eloquent declaimer.

Pulpit eloquence is in my opinion by far the most important of any; the interest in which it is enlisted is, or ought to be, tremendously absorbing, and in consequence, it is deserving of the highest and most persevering cultivation. Yet, what is the fact? Unless we resort to the temples of sectarianism, and run a risk of being annoyed by vulgarity and fanaticism, we have little or no chance of meeting with a preacher who seems in *earnest. *Polemical controversy may be carried on between hireling priests without the least tincture of hearty zeal, and bishops may think it quite sufficient to leave the social duties and cardinal virtues to work their way by force of their own intrinsic merits; yet these are the points whereon a really eloquent and zealous minister might rouse the attention of his hearers to effectual purpose, and succeed in detaching them from Methodistical cant and rant which at present, merely in consequence of apparent heartiness and a semblance of inspiration, draw away both old and young, both sensible and illiterate, from the tribe of cold metaphysical expositors who affect to illustrate the Christian tenets in our parochial congregations.

Nothing can better exemplify the latter observations than a circumstance connected with the island of Guernsey. There are seven Protestant churches in that island, where the usual service is gone through in the usual manner. A parcel of Methodists, however, professed themselves discontented with our Litany, established a different form of worship, and set up a meeting-house of their own, giving out that they could save two souls for every *one *that a common Protestant parson could manage; in due time they inveigled a set of fanatic persons to form a *singing choir, *which employed itself in chanting from morning till night, every girl who wanted to put her voice in tune being brought by her mother to sing psalms with the Methodists. This vocal bait, indeed, took admirably, and in a short time the congregations of the seven churches might have been well accommodated in one. On the other hand, although the meeting-house was enlarged, its portals even were thronged on every occasion, multitudes both inside and out all squalling away to the very stretch of their voices.

The dean and clergy perceiving clearly that singing had beaten praying out of the field, made a due representation to the Bishop of Winchester, and requested the instructions of that right reverend dignitary, how to bring back the wayward flock to their natural folds and shepherds. The bishop replied, that as the desertion appeared to be in consequence of the charms of melody, the remedy was plain - namely, to get *better singers *than the Methodists, and to sing better tunes - in which case the Protestant churches would,, no doubt, soon recover every one of their parishioners.

Not having for many years heard a sermon in Ireland, I am not aware of the precise state of its pulpit oratory at present. But of this I am quite sure, that politics and controversy are not the true attributes of Christian worship; and that whenever they are made the topic of spiritual discourse, the whole congregation would be justified in dozing.

I have heard many parsons *attempt *eloquence, but very few of them, in my idea, succeeded. The present Archbishop of Dublin worked hard for the prize, and a good number of the Fellows of Dublin College tried their tongues to little purpose-in truth, the preaching of one minister rendered me extremely fastidious respecting eloquence from the pulpit.

This individual was Dean Kirwan, now no more, who pronounced the most impressive orations I ever heard from the members of any profession at any era. It is true, he spoke for *effect, *and therefore directed his flow of eloquence according to its apparent influence. I have listened to this man actually with astonishment! He was a gentleman by birth, had been educated as a Roman Catholic priest, and officiated some time in Ireland in that capacity, but afterwards conformed to the Protestant Church, and was received *ad eundem. *His extraordinary powers soon brought him into notice, and he was promoted by Lord Westmoreland to a living, afterwards became a dean, and would most probably have been a bishop; but he had an intractable turn of mind, entirely repugnant to the usual means or acquiring high preferment. It was much to be lamented that the independence of principle and action which he certainly possessed was not accompanied by any reputation for philanthropic qualities. His justly high opinion of himself seemed unjustly to overwhelm every other consideration.

Dr. Kirwan’s figure, and particularly his countenance, were not prepossessing; there was an air of discontent in his looks, and a sharpness in his features, which, in the aggregate, amounted to something not distant from repulsion. His manner of preaching was of the French school; he was vehement for a while, and then becoming, or affecting to become exhausted, he held his handkerchief to his face; a dead silence ensued-he had skill to perceive the precise moment to recommence-another blaze of declamation burst upon the congregation, and another fit of exhaustion was succeeded by another pause. The men began to wonder at his eloquence, the women grew nervous at his denunciations. His tact rivalled his talent; and at the conclusion of one of his finest sentences, a “celestial exhaustion,” as I heard a lady call it, not unfrequently terminated his discourse, in general abruptly. If the subject was charity every purse was laid largely under contribution. In the Church of St Peter’s, where he preached an annual charity sermon, the usual collection, which had been under £200, was raised by the dean to £1,100 I knew a gentleman myself who threw both his purse and watch into the plate!

Yet the oratory of this celebrated preacher would have answered in no other profession than his own, and served to complete my idea of the true distinction between pulpit, bar, and parliamentary eloquence. Kirwan in the pulpit, Curran at the bar, and Sheridan in the senate, were the three most effective orators I ever recollect in their respective departments.

Kirwan’s talents seemed to me to be limited entirely to elocution. I had much intercourse with him at the house of Mr. Hely of Tooke’s Court. Whilst residing in Dublin I met him at a variety of places; and my overwrought expectations, in fact, were a good deal disappointed. His style of address had nothing engaging in it, nothing either dignified or graceful. In his conversation there was neither sameness nor variety - ignorance nor information; and yet, somehow or other, he avoided insipidity. His *amour propre *was the most prominent of his superficial qualities; and a bold, manly independence of mind and feeling the most obvious of his deeper ones. I believe he was a good man, if he could not be termed a very amiable one, and learned, although niggardly in communicating what he knew.

I have remarked thus at large upon Dean Kirwan, because he was by far the most eloquent and effective pulpit orator I ever heard, and because I never met any man whose character I felt more at a loss accurately to pronounce upon. It has been said that his sermons were adroitly extracted from passages in the celebrated discourses of Saurin the Huguenot, who preached at the Hague, grand-father to the late attorney-general of Ireland. It may be so, and in that case all I can say is, that Kirwan was a most judicious selector, and that I doubt if the eloquent writer made a hundredth part of the impression of his eloquent plagiarist.

I should myself be the plagiarist of a hundred writers, if I attempted to descant upon the parliamentary eloquence of Sheridan. It only seems necessary to refer to his speech on Mr. Hasting’s trial; [I had an opportunity of knowing that Mr. Sheridan was offered £1,000 for that speech by a bookseller the day after it was spoken, provided he would write it out correctly from the notes taken before the interest had subsided; and yet, although he certainly had occasion for money at the time, and assented to the proposal, be did not take the trouble of writing a line of it! The publisher was of course displeased, and insisted on his performing his promise upon which Sheridan laughingly replied in the vein of Falstaff:- “No, Hal! were I at the strappado, I would do nothing *by compulsion!” *He did it at length - but too late! and, as I heard, was, reasonably enough, not paid] at least, that is sufficient to decide me as to his immense superiority over all his rivals in splendid declamation. Most great men have their individual points of superiority, and I am sure that Sheridan could not have preached, nor Kirwan have pleaded; Curran could have done both, Grattan neither: but in language calculated to rouse a nation, Grattan, whilst young, far exceeded either of them.

I have often met Sheridan, but never knew him intimately. He was my senior and my superior. Whilst he was in high repute, I was at laborious dunes; whilst he was eclipsing everybody in fame in one country, I was labouring hard to gain any in another. He professed Whiggism; I did not understand it, and I have met very few patriots who appear to have acted even on their own definition thereof.

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