were in every mouth.
From the glowing eloquence of the Parliament House,--the burning words
and heart-stirring sentences of Grattan and Ponsonby,--they issued forth
to mingle in all the exciting din of military display,--the tramp of
armed battalions, and the crash and glitter of mounted squadrons. To
these succeeded those festive meetings, resounding with all the zeal of
patriotic toasts,--brilliant displays of those convivial accomplishments
for which the Irish gentlemen of that day were so justly famed. There
was something peculiarly splendid and imposing in the spectacle of the
nation at that moment; but, like the grand groupings we witness upon the
stage, all the gorgeousness of the display was only to intimate that
the curtain was about to fall!

But to come back to personal matters. At the first election which
occurred after his accession to the property, my father was returned for
Wicklow, by a large majority, in opposition to the Government candidate;
and thus, at the age of twenty-two, entered upon life with all the
glowing ardor of a young patriot,--rich, well-looking, and sufficiently
gifted to be flattered into the self-confidence of actual ability.

Parliamentary conflicts have undergone a change just as great as those
of actual warfare. In the times I speak of, tactical skill and subtlety
would have availed but little, in comparison with their present success.
The House was then a species of tournament, where he who would break his
lance with the most valiant tilter was always sure of an antagonist. The
marshalling of party, the muster of adherents, was not, as it now is,
all-sufficient against the daring eloquence of a solitary opponent;
and if, as is very probable, men were less under the guidance of great
political theorems, they were assuredly not less earnest and devoted
than we now see them. The contests of the House were carried beyond its
walls, and political opponents became deadly enemies, ready to stake
life at any moment in defence of their opinions. It was the school of
the period; nor can it be better illustrated than by the dying farewell
of a great statesman, whose last legacy to his son was in the words: "Be
always ready with the pistol." This great maxim, and the maintenance of
a princely style of living, were the two golden rules of the time. My
father was a faithful disciple of the sect.

In the course of a two years' tour on the Continent, he signalized
himself by various adventures