gentlemanhood would owe the protection of
everything they held to that loyal army whose cause he
had so often avouched"

Jacobin principles "had become a hotbed of
sedition, manured by the speeches," &c.
Jacobins themselves are "the scum of the earth,
suffered to boil over until it overflowed the law
and the constitution."

Sir Boyle's description of necessity is blunt
yet forcible: "a law justified by arguments
stronger than all the speeching and bothering
used about abstruse doctrine."

A particular bill against election bribery he
held to be "a scout sent out by General
Reform to reconnoitre, but I hope it will be
treated as a spy deserves to be" — an ingenious
figure which he was partial to, and repeated on
other occasions. Finally, making a sort of
heraldic profession of faith, he proclaims loftily,
"I am descended from a noble family, and I their
remainder now," &c.

On a motion for receiving a certain petition
from the Catholics, which he proposed should
be dealt with in a fashion for which probably
there was no precedent in the journals, "Now
the question is," said the famous baronet,
"whether we will receive this insidious petition
of a turbulent disorderly set of people whom no
king can govern or no God please; or whether
we shall treat it with its merited contempt. For
my part, I call upon you to dispose of it as it
deserves, by tossing it over the bar and kicking
it into the lobby; and I am determined to
divide the House upon it, even if I should stand
alone in the lobby."

Thus far the public life of Sir Boyle Roche.
There is now another view of him to be
considered — the pleasant little obiter dicta which
have been put down to his score, and which
there is no reason to doubt he really gave
utterance to. After all, it is natural to suppose
that the constraint of public speaking must have
fettered the bovine fancy, and checked the more
frequent introduction of these conversational
bulls, in the rearing of which he is supposed to
have had great skill.

Many of these are happily preserved. "Sir,
I would give up half — nay, the whole of the
constitution, to preserve the remainder." This,
however, was parliamentary. Hearing that
Admiral Howe was in quest of the French, he
remarked somewhat pleasantly that the admiral
would "sweep the French fleet off the face of
the earth."

By-and-by came dangerous times of disaffection,
and honest men's lives were insecure. Sir
Boyle writes from the country to a friend in the
capital this discouraging view of his position;
"You may judge," he says, "of our state, when
I tell you that I write this with a sword in one
hand and a pistol in the other."

On another occasion, when the famous letters
to the Public Advertiser were attracting
universal attention, Sir Boyle was heard to
complain bitterly of the attacks "of a certain
anonymous writer, called Junius." He it was
who recounted that marvellous performance
in gymnastics, when, in a tumult of loyalty, he
"stood prostrate at the feet of his sovereign."
He it was who denounced in withering language
the apostate politician, who "turned his back
upon himself." He it was who introduced to
public notice the ingenious yet partially
confused metaphor of the rat : "Sir," he said,
addressing the Speaker of the Irish House, " I
smell a rat. I see him floating in the air — but
mark me, I shall yet nip him in the bud."

It was Sir Boyle who spoke in feeling terms
of the gentleman with whose family he was
connected by marriage: "He gave me his eldest
daughter, sir," he said to one of the professional
wits of the Irish bar; "his eldest daughter,
sir." To him the wit: "If he had had an older
one he would have given her to you."

Mr. Curran used humorously to insist that
these strange bits of confusion were all the
result of careful preparation; perhaps scarcely
crediting that there could be found a mind with
such an inveterate constituted twist in it. In
the Irish House these sayings were welcomed
with uproarious hilarity. There was the famous
speech which confounded generations. "I
don't see, Mr. Speaker, why we should put
ourselves out of the way to serve posterity. What
has ever posterity done for us?" He was a little
disconcerted by the burst of laughter that
followed, and proceeded to explain his meaning.
"By posterity, sir, I do not mean our ancestors,
but those who are to come immediately after
them."

His invitation to the gentleman on his travels
was hospitable and well meant—but equivocal.
"I hope, my lord, if ever you come within a
mile of my house, you'll stay there all night."
He it was who stood for the proper dimensions
of the wine-bottle, and proposed to parliament
that it should be made compulsory that " every
quart bottle should contain a quart." Very
pleasant, and yet perfectly intelligible, was his
meaning — though it unhappily took the fatal
bovine shape — was his rebuke to the shoemaker
when getting shoes for his gouty limbs: " I told
you to make one longer than the other, and
instead of that, you have made one smaller than
the other; the very opposite."

Still he could hit hard, and for once avoided
his natural blundering turn. Mr. Curran stated he
was quite capable of being the guardian of his
own honour. Sir Boyle retorted, "I wish the
hon. gentleman joy of his sinecure."

The truth is, he rises out of these little
pleasantries with yet more credit than a mere vulgar
observer would suppose. Under these oratorical
perversions and colloquial humours lurks a
graver thought. Out of these merry conceits,
which may, for aught we know, have been born
of a deep philanthropy, and a yet deeper purpose,
the world may furnish itself with one of those
exemplars, infinitely precious, more useful than
hours of sermonising. He is eminently the
consistent man. When he blunders, if blunder
it must be, he is steadily uniform. His oratory
squares with his conversation. He is not
unjustly correct in the one and partially faulty in