The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1851-03-27

4
she would reply, John was fl for any,
thing; and had he but followed our advice
IL might hereafter be written upon my
tomb that | died The mother of bishop"
But no one as yet knew that he had ex-
traordinary talent for eloquenee. Indeed
he did not suspect ii himself. In his boy
hood he had confusion in his utterance,
from which he was called BY his school
fellows "stuttering Jack Curran."
1t was not until many years after, while
studying law al the Temple, that he found
out that he could speak. After has fame
was established, friend dining with him
one day, could not repress his admiration
| OF Curran S eloquence, and remarked thai
! ii must have been born with him. AIN
deed my dear sir,'' replied Curran. ait
was not, II was borne twenty-ihree years
and some months after me " But when
he had made the important discovery of
| This concealed power, he employed every
means 10 render his elocution perfect. He
accustomed himself TO speak very slowly
correct ms precipiIaie utierance. He
practiced before glass TO make his ges-
lures graceful. he spoke aloud the most
celebrated orauons. One piece he was
never weary of repeating, The speech of
Anthony over The body of Cesar. This
he recommended to his young friends at
the bar as model Of eloquence-
And while he thus used arr to smooth
channel for his thoughts 10 flow IN, no
mans eloguence ever issued more freshly
and spontaneously from The heart Ii was
always the heart of the man that spoke.
Ii was because his own emotions were SO
intense, that he possessed such power
over The feelings OF the others
HIS natural sympathies were strong.
Like every truly great man, he was as
sImple as child He had all those tastes
WHICH mark a genuine man. He loved
nature. He loved children. He sympa-
thIzed With the poor 1t was perhaps
from these popular sympsIhies thaz he
preferred Rousseau among the French
writer's, and that MS friendship was SO
strong with MIR. Goodwin.
HIS nature was all sensibility. He was
most keenly alive 10 gay, or mournful
scenes. lie had boyish love for fun
and frolic. He entered into sports with
Infinite glee. In these things he remained
child 10 The end of his days; while in
sensIbI.ity 10 tears he had The heart of
woman. Thus, 10 the last hour of life, he
kept his affections fresh and flowing.
he had the delicate organization OF ge-
MUS. His frame vibraied 10 music like an
Eollan harp. He had The most exquisite
relish Tor the beauties of poetry. He was
extravagautly fond of works of imagina-
ton. He devoured romances And when
IN his reading he met with passage which
grained his TASTE, he was never weary of
repeating II TO himself, or reading il TO the
friends who came 10 see hin.
In conversation, perhaps the most prom
inent faculty OF ms mind was fancy
sportIve, playful, tender, and pathetic.
his conversation was a stream which
never ceased 10 flow. His brilliant ina
glnatIon, and the warmth with which he
entered INTO everything, gave It a peculiar
fascination. Byron said that Curran had
spoken more poetry than any man had
ever written. LIP a circle of genial friends,
after dinner, his genius was IN lis first ac-
ton. HIS counienance lighted up, and his
conversation, beginning 10 flow, now SPAR
kled, now ran Ike wine. Flashes of vii
played around him. Mirih cleaned from
hls eyes and shot from his tongue He
had an endless store of anecdote, 10 which
his extraordinary dramatic talent enabled
ham TO give the hapPiess effect He told
stories, and hitting of the point OF Irish
character by The most exquisite mimicry;
he ''set the table on roar" following
perhaps with some touching tale which
instantly brought tears inlo every eve,
You wePt." says Phillips, land YOU
laughed, and you wondered; and the won
derful Creature, who made you do all at
will. never lei 1t appear that he was more
than your equal, and quite willing, If YOU
chose, TO become your auditor.
The wit OF Curran was spontaneous.
Ii was ihe creation of the moment. the
electric sparks shot from mind overchar-
ged with imagery and feeling. In this il
differed from the wit of another prea,
lrishman. Sheridan had more of the ac-
tor about him. His brilliant savings were
prepared beforehand. He aimed at dis
play IN the receptions al Holland House
as much as when writing comedy for
Drury Lane.
Perhaps no foreigner, who has visited
England, has had better opportunity of
seeing lis distinguished men than Madame
de Siael. She was constantly surrounded
by the most brilliant society of London
Yet even IN that blaze of genius, he was
most struck. as she often told her friends,
with the conversational powers of Curran.
This, too. was IN 1919 when his health
had sunk. and his srsr1.< were So dep-ees