His visage is
sullen, stern, and meditative--I can scarcely allow this conception to
be a work of fancy, for I have never been deceived in my readings of
that most expressive of all betrayers of the inner man. And on this day,
I could have predicted the preparation for some general and reckless
rising against government, on the first opportunity when it should be
found slumbering on its post: and my prediction would have been true.

The court was crowded, and it was with no small difficulty that I was
enabled to reach the seat beside the judge, which had been provided for
me. The arraignment and preparatory routine of the trial gave time for
the court to subside into order; and the address of the principal
law-officer for the prosecution, though exciting the deepest anxiety,
was listened to in the most respectful silence. The case was strong, and
was ably dealt with by the attorney-general. The evidence was clear and
complete, and the hope of an acquittal seemed to be gradually abandoned
in the expressive gloom of the spectators. The prisoner at the bar, too,
seemed more dejected than I had presumed from his former intrepidity;
and the few glances which I could suffer myself to give to a being in
his calamitous condition, showed me a frequent writhing of the lip, a
clenching of the teeth, and a nervous contraction of the features, which
looked like despair. At length the counsel for the defence rose. It was
the first instance of my seeing the memorable Curran engaged in his
profession. I had met him from time to time in general society, and felt
the delight which all experienced in his unfailing spirits and brilliant
pleasantry. I had hitherto enjoyed him as the wit. I was now to be
dazzled, delighted, and overwhelmed by him as the orator.

Curran was the last man to be judged of by appearances. Nature had been
singularly unkind to his exterior, as if the more to astonish us by the
powers of the man within. His figure was undersized, his visage brown,
hard, and peasantlike, his gesture was a gesticulation, and his voice
was alternately feeble and shrill. His whole effect was to be derived
from means, with which that little meagre frame and sharp treble had
nothing to do. But he had a singularly vivid eye. It was of the deepest
black, and such was the intensity of its expression in his more
impassioned moments, that it was scarcely an exaggeration to say that it
shot fire. Still, a stranger would have regarded him chief