achievement, and feeling all the stronger from the exhilaration it diffused.

One of the last letters written by the late Mr. Justice Keogh was addressed to us in relation to the present task.

"Poor Charles Lever. He was my friend. I regarded him much as the most kindly, generous, and genial of men. His conversation never flagged, and his recollection of friendship and early friends was always bright. He passed two days with me at Elgin Road, when last in Dublin, and was the delight of all. The last time before, that I had seen him, was at Villa Morelli near Florence. The Derby Government had just come in. I said to him 'Lever, now is your time.' 'No,' he said, 'my dear fellow, they will do nothing for me. If I go to London, Derby and Dizzy, and all the rest of them will say, Lever, come and dine, Lever, tell us one of your good stories, but no thought of doing anything for me.'

"I thought otherwise, and was gratified at hearing from him at Rome that he was promoted to a consulate at Trieste. He lost his wife there, and that loss cost him his life."*

His Alma Mater, the scene of early freaks and follies, attracted him during several successive days. Here, too, the best whist-players were to be found. He won £2 in Mr. Palmer's rooms, and dropping into Mr. Williamson's that night on his way home, when some of * Letter of the late Right Hon. Mr. Justice Keogh, September 16, 1876.

the best hands had assembled to meet him, lost £20. But his bright thoughts and silver tongue flew all the while, no matter what turn the luck had taken. One anecdote he told on this occasion has been preserved. "Lever," writes one of the party, "was playing whist at Florence with two foreigners and an Englishman named Harvey. They played in the continental system, according to which, the players play with each other in turn, and do not cut for partners. On it being announced to one of the players, a Frenchman, that it was his turn to have Mr. Harvey for a partner, he exclaimed, 'Mais j'ai déjà fait mon Harvey!' He had already played once with him, and it may be inferred that he was not a brilliant whister."*

His tact and geniality in impressing all with whom he had formed first acquaintance that he was their friend for life, greatly struck Mr. Tyrrell, F.T.C.D. The days of swagger and of "the cavalcade" had passed, and Lever had already found that the secret of social success was to seem to think nothing of himself. "I met him at the Fellows' table at dinner," writes the Bishop of Limerick, “and afterwards in the room of Dr. Wright, Professor of Botany, who entertained him at supper. "If he were alive, he would say that he spent a pleasant evening. At the table in our common room. to which we adjourned to take our wine, he was well placed, sitting next to the Bishop of Killaloe, and later in the evening he found himself amongst some of our

* Letter of Arthur Palmer, Esq., F. T. C. D., Feb. 7, 1879.

ablest young men, Williamson, Leslie, &c. Walking home with C. Lever, I had much pleasant talk with him about politics and literature. His ripeness of mind, and geniality of character, struck me very much. had not expected to find in him such breadth of view and depth of insight."*

I

"I never met him but on that one occasion," writes the Bishop of Killaloe. "He was in high spirits, very amusing, and told most laughable stories. Mr. Thackeray, I think, dined with us on the same day."†

It was no exceptional occasion that Dr. Wright entertained Lever at supper. On every evening that he had no special engagement elsewhere, he came down either to Dr. Wright's rooms, or to Mr. Williamson's. Dr. Wright had boated with Lever in the bay of Spezzia when in his prime; but he describes him, during this last visit to Dublin, as immensely exceeding in vivacity and wit all that he had previously known of him. Lord Spencer, Sir B. Burke, Judge Keogh, Mr. Courtnay Boyle depose to the same effect.

But it struck Dr. Shaw, F.T.C.D., a most acute and thoughtful observer, who met him daily at the Fellows' table, that, beneath this glittering surface, tinges of care transparently peeped; that something weighed upon his mind, buoyant and effervescent as it seemed to assert itself. A man who largely shared his confidence at this time

* Letter of the Bishop of Limerick, August 9, 1872.

The Bishop's impression as to Thackeray's presence, applies to a distinct evening.

MR. DICEY'S RECOLLECTIONS.

295

can throw light on the cause. Mr. Edward Dicey had been his guest at Florence, and was often closeted with him in London. "He had known bitter sorrow," he writes, "and long trouble; he had had many a hard contest to sustain in the battle of life, and even to the last he was compelled to carry on the weary combat. He was oppressed by the conviction that much as he had done, it had been in him to have done yet more. He saw men of not one tittle of his genius arrive at higher fame, and at a far greater proportion of the material rewards than he ever obtained. He was troubled with failing health, and the loss of those he loved best; and yet, to the last, he had more of the boy's nature, more true enjoyment of the things that make this world pleasant than nine-tenths of the men who in years might have been his sons and grandsons. It is difficult to speak of the man that he was without carrying a false impression to those who knew him not. But to live not for the day, but every day to take mankind as you find them, trying, indeed, to better them, but yet not believing very firmly in the possibility of their amelioration, to look out upon the world, and, on the whole, to find it good: such was the creed to which Charles Lever was prone by instinct, and in which the circumstances of his life had confirmed his allegiance."

The keen eye of a great physician penetrated still deeper than the suspicion of Dr. Shaw. Sometimes at dinner, while a sparkling anecdote glittered on his lips, it was observed by Dr. Stokes that his knife or fork would drop from his hands-a symptom of the subtle

approach of paralysis; and it is remarkable that the same incident occurred to Curran when dining with Moore in 1817. Lever, beyond the consciousness of a slight awkwardness having occurred, attached no importance to the act; but the vigilant physician viewed it not without emotion. Lever liked Stokes, and breakfasted with him on the day of his final departure from Ireland.*

The doctor, however, whom he consulted was Wilde. He complained that his once bright eyes had lost their lustre and strength; also of insidious attacks of somnolency, which, if not battled against, made frequent and successful efforts to seize him. Sir William Wilde examined him with all his instruments and tests, but found nothing optically wrong. He ascribed the affection of his eyes to stomachic derangement, consequent on indulgence in suppers.†

The bright chain of friends who erst had encircled him had indeed lost many links: and a sigh would escape as one by one he missed them. This was observed on an occasion during his last visit, when he accepted an invitation to dine at the University Club. Standing to receive cordial salutations, his back leaning against a

*Letter of Wm. Stokes, Esq., Regius Professor of Physic, T. C. D., April 20, 1873. To Stokes-a man of gloom to patients, but a real Rabelais of humour when freed from the restraints of professional pomp and mysteryLever owed not a few good stories. One of them was the scene in the canal boat, where Father Loftus eats all the salmon at dinner, and makes the apology that it was a fast day in his church. "Do you think nobody has a soul to save but yourself?" exclaimed Standish O'Grady, coming behind his chair and helping himself freely to a liberal share of the rich fish. + Letter of the late Sir W. Wilde, M.D., March 10, 1876.