} tracts from Gerald Griffin's "Letters," Willis's "Pencillings by the Way," Leigh Hunt's "Memoirs," and Wilson's "Recreations of Christopher North." These extracts are all from publications easily obtained, but which it is convenient to have brought together, and which the editor of this work found done to his hand in a contemporary periodical. We have, in an appendix to the preface, a comparison between Tasso's and Milton's Devils. We suppose that Moore's "Loves of the Angels" brought them to Lord John's mind. In Tasso's demon, we are told the features are "those of as foul and noisome a fiend as can well be described-not so Satan.' In Milton, "All is great, and nothing is disgusting." The criticism is just enough, but out of place- strangely out of place "The thing we know is neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil it came there." Speaking of "Lalla Rookh," we are told that "It is difficult to give a preference to one of the poems which compose the volume over the rest. Crabbe preferred the 'Veiled Prophet;' Byron the 'Fire-Worshippers.' Of these the Veiled Prophet' displays the greater power; the 'Fire-Worshippers' the more natural and genuine passion. The story of the 'Veiled Prophet' is somewhat revolting, and requires the most musical and refined poetry to make it even bearable. The Ghebers were no doubt associated in the mind of Moore with the religion and the country most dear to his heart."-Vol. i. p. xxv. Moore was born at No. 12, Aungierstreet, corner of Little Longford-street, on the 28th of May, 1779. Of his father's family, Moore is able to tell us nothing, except that they were from Kerry; and that, when his name beand second cousins of the paternal line, came known, he was haunted with applications for his patronage from first which he appears to have disregarded or repelled. Of his mother's people he knew more. Her maiden name was Codd: "My old gouty grandfather, Tom Codd, who lived in the Cornmarket, Wexford, is connected with some of my earliest remembrances. Besides being engaged in the provision trade, he must also, I think (from my recollection of the machinery), have had something to do with weaving. But though thus humble in his calling, he brought up a large family reputably, and was always, as I have heard, much respected by his fellowtownsmen. "It was some time in the year 1778 that Anastasia, the eldest daughter of this Thomas Codd, became the wife of my father, John Moore, and in the following year I came into the world. My mother could not have been much more than eighteen (if so old) at the time of her marriage, and my father was considerably her senior. Indeed, I have frequently heard her say to him in her laughing moods, 'You know, Jack, you were an old bachelor when I married you.' At this period, as I always understood, my father kept a small wine-store in Johnson'scourt, Grafton-street, Dublin; the same court, by the way, where I afterwards went to school. On his marriage, however, having received, I rather think, some little money with my mother, he set up business in Aungier-street."-Vol. i. pp. 1, 2. "At a very early age I was sent to a school kept by a man of the name of Malone, in the same street where we lived. This wild, odd fellow, of whose cocked hat I have still a very clear remembrance, used to pass the greater part of his nights in drinking at public-houses, and was hardly ever able to make his appearance in the school before noon. He would then generally whip the boys all round for disturbing his slumbers. I was myself, however, a special favourite with him, partly, perhaps, from being the youngest boy in the school, but chiefly, I think, from the plan which then, and ever after, my anxious mother adopted, of heaping with all sorts of kindnesses and attention, those who were in any way, whether as masters, ushers, or schoolfellows, likely to assist me in my learning. "From my natural quickness, and the fond pride with which I was regarded at home, it was my lot, unluckily perhaps though from such a source I can consider nothing unlucky-to be made, at a very early age, a sort of show child; and a talent for reciting was one of the first which my mother's own tastes led her to encourage and cultivate in me. The zealous interest, too, which, to the last moment of her life, she continued to take in the popular politics of the day, was shown by her teaching me, when I was not quite four years old, to recite some verses which had just then appeared against Grattan, reflecting severely upon his conduct on the question of simple Repeal. This short eclipse of our great patriot's popularity followed closely upon the splendid grant bestowed on him by the House of Commons; and the following description of an apostate patriot, in allusion to this circumstance, I used to repeat, as my mother has often told me, with peculiar energy : "Pay down his price, he'll wheel about, And laugh, like Grattan, at the nation.' "I sometimes wonder that it never occurred to me, during the many happy hours I have since passed with this great and good man, to tell him that the first words of rhyme I ever lisped in my life, were taken from this factious piece of doggerel, aimed at himself during one of those fits of popular injustice, to which all fame derived from the populace is but too likely to be exposed. "One of the persons of those early days to whom I look back with most pleasure, was an elderly maiden lady, possessed of some property, whose name was Dodd, and who lived in a small neat house in Camdenstreet. The class of society she moved in was somewhat of a higher level than ours; and she was the only person to whom, during my childhood, my mother could ever trust me for any time away from herself. It was, indeed, from the first, my poor mother's ambition, though with no undue aspirings for herself, to secure for her children an early footing in the better walks of society; and to her constant attention to this object I owe both my taste for good company, and the facility I afterwards found in adapting myself to that sphere. Well, indeed, do I remember my Christmas visits to Miss Dodd, when I used to pass with her generally three whole days, and be made so much of by herself and her guests: most especially do I recall the delight of one evening when she had a large tea-party, and when, with her alone in the secret, I remained for hours concealed under the table, having a small barrelorgan in my lap, and watching anxiously the moment when I was to burst upon their ears with music from - they knew not where! If the pleasure, indeed, of the poet lies in anticipating his own power over the imagination of others, I had as much of the poetical feeling about me while lying hid under that table as ever I could boast since."-Vol. i. pp. 3-5. Moore's parents took great care of his education. He was sent to Whyte's school, then in high reputation. Whyte was proud of his own verses, and was fond of declamation, and all manner of theatrical display. Moore, for the first time, saw his name in print in the play-bill for some private theatricals, which promised, as an epilogue to Jane Shore" A Squeeze to St. Paul's, by MASTER Moore." Moore's own first remembered rhymes were an epilogue of a few years later date. His first published verses were in the Anthologia Hibernica, a wellconducted magazine of 1793 or 1794. Moore's mother was very attentive to every person engaged in the instruction of her children; and through this disposition of hers, and also through generous kindnesses to all who stood in need of her kindness, Moore was early acquainted with Frenchmen and Italians, who, in one capacity or another, were seeking bread in Dublin, and thus he became early acquainted with modern languages. At Whyte's school was a teacher of Latin, named Donovan, who, in addition to whatever classical learning he might communicate, indoctrinated Moore in those political views which some men call patriotism, and others rebellion. Moore describes himself as "being, if I may say so, born a rebel." Still to his school hours with Donovan, and their conversations, he attributes much of the hold which such subjects took of his imagination and his feelings. In 1793, some of the disabilities affecting Roman Catholics were removed. The advantages of an education at the University of Trinity College, Dublin, were opened to them, though they were not rendered admissible to any share in the property of that institution, or to any of the honours or advantages of fellowships or scholarships. This created a debate among the Moores, when it was determined that their son should enter College, whether he ought not to be entered as a Protestant : "But such an idea could hold but a brief place in honest minds, and its transit, even for a moment, through the thoughts of my worthy parents, only shows how demoralising must be the tendency of laws which hold forth to their victims such temptations to duplicity. My mother was a sincere and warm Catholic, and even gave in to some of the old superstitions connected with that faith, in a manner remarkable for a person of her natural strength of mind. The less sanguine nature and quiet humour of my father, led him to view such matters with rather less reverent eyes; and though my mother could seldom help laughing at his sly sallies against the priests, she made a point of always reproving him for them, saying (as I think I can hear her saying at this moment), 'I declare to God, Jack Moore, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.""—Vol. i. p. 29. Moore entered College. Burrowes, afterwards Dean of Cork, was his tutor. In the first year he obtained a premium and a certificate; but there his college honours ceased-at least, in the regular course, he obtained no others. An English theme of his attracted the attention of one of the fellows, Walker, a remarkable man. He read the theme; it was in verse. He asked Moore did he himself write the verses a question perfectly reasonable, as at that time exercises of the kind were regarded as form, seldom written by the pupils examined seldom read by the examiners. On being assured that they were, Walker obtained a premium for them from the Board. a mere Moore's success led to diligence, and at the next examinations he was a candidate for classical honours. A classfellow of the name of Ferral, however, Moore tells us, was a successful competitor for the premium given by the Board to the best answerer. We suspect that the Ferral of Moore's narrative was no other than a man of very remarkable talents, and one of the best classical scholars, and most accomplished men, whom we have ever met, the late M. J. Farrell, of Cork. He was, we know, a class-fellow of Moore's; and through his whole college course he was one of the most distinguished men of his day. If we are right, it seems to us strange that Moore could have mis-spelt his name. But this may be a misprint, or arise from imperfect recollection, after so long an interval. It was the era of republicanism. There was, however, one king acknowledged by the good people of Dublin. The boy bishop of the old days of Church dominion did not create greater fun, or afford more opportunity of satirical allusion, than did the King of Dalkey. Dalkey is a little island, some eight miles from Dublin; and here was the seat of an elective mo narchy. There was an annual election, and an annual coronation. We be lieve that the monarch was re-eligible, and often held his sceptre for years. In Moore's early university days, Stephen Armitage, a very charming singer, was the reigning king. The anniver sary of his accession to the throne was celebrated every summer: "A gayer and more amusing scene (for I was once the happy witness of it) could not be well imagined. About noon on Sunday, the day of the celebration, the royal procession set out from Dublin by water; the barge of his majesty, King Stephen, being most tastefully decorated, and the crowd of boats that attended him all vying with each other in gaiety of ornament and company. There was even cannon planted at one or two stations along the shore, to fire salutes in honour of his majesty as he passed. The great majority, however, of the crowds that assembled, made their way to the town of Dalkey by land; and the whole length of the road in that direction swarmed with vehicles, all full of gay laughing people. Some regulations were made, if I recollect right, to keep the company on the island itself as select as possible, and the number of gay parties there scattered about, dining under tents, or in the open air (the day being, on the occasion I speak of, unclouded throughout) presented a picture of the most lively and exhilirating description. "The ceremonies performed in honour of the day by the dignitaries of the kingdom, were, of course, a parody on the forms observed upon real state occasions; and the sermon and service, as enacted in an old ruined church, by the archbishop (a very comical fellow, whose name I forget) and his clergy, certainly carried the spirit of parody indecorously far. An old ludicrous song, to the tune of 'Nancy Dawson,' was given out in the manner of a psalm, and then sung in chorus by the congregation, as thus, "And then he up the chimney went, -Vol. i. pp. 43, 44. From the description of these humorous festivities, Moore passes to the awful period of the Irish rebellion, and gives an account of the memorable visitation held by Lord Clare, when it was discovered that political meetings of a treasonable character were held within the walls of Trinity College. The memoir terminates with Moore's first visit to London; and the series of letters to his mother, never dis continued during her life, may be said to commence. This part of the work is not susceptible of abridgment, nor would extracts be of any great interest. His first visit to London is for the double purpose of entering his name as a student on the books of the Middle Temple, and publishing a translation of "Anacreon," which he had been led to execute by the attention his verses had received from Dr. Burrowes and Dr. Kearney, of the Dublin University. Ile was induced to hope, that if a selection of the odes were translated by him, the Board of Trinity College would, probably, give him some premium, in testimony of their disposition to encourage polite letters. An old library attached to the Cathedral of St. Patrick's contained what was once a very valuable collection of books; and in this place Moore passed a great deal of his time, reading all manner of out of-the-way books-lives of saints, dead philosophies, damned theosophies love verses, in Latin and Greek, the ardour of which had been long quenched for all but such an inquirer everything and anything was food to his untiring industry; and yet, so remote were his studies from anything which could ever be professionally useful, that they looked very like idleness; yet idle for one moment Moore does not appear to have ever been. His first letter, written on his arrival in London, tells the incidents of his journey. At Chester he falls in with a madman, who has taken a fancy to him, and sits down at his breakfasttable at the inn-tells how he has escaped from a strait waistcoat-boasts of having killed a woman and child, in the theatre at Warrington, the night before; and proposes to Moore, as neither of them had seen the lions of Chester, that they should take a walk through the town together. The young traveller had no sooner got rid of the madman, than he falls in with a sharper, whom, however, he finds reason to suspect before he has suffered any inconvenience from the acquaintanceship. From the first, Moore moved in good society; and not only in good society, but does not seem, as one might be led to fear, at all placed in the embarrassment of having also acquaintanceships of a different character. He, however, amid all the gaieties of London, and all the attentions paid him, was impatient for his own home : "I think the wearisomeness of this place is beginning almost to make me bilious; after all, there are few samenesses more disagreeable than that of seeing faces you don't care two-pence about, returning periodically and domestically, and mixing themselves, as if they belonged to you, with every function of life. Oh, solitude! solitude! you hold the very next rank to the society of the few we love. I wish prudence did not keep me away from you, dearest mother, and I should exchange all my fineries for Irish stew and salt fish immediately. Your own, -Vol. i. p. 91. "TOM." Before returning to Ireland, Moore is engaged in negotiations for the publication of his "Anacreon," and some of the letters seem to intimate that he had found, among the booksellers or the theatrical people, some occupations by which he was enabled to lighten the pressure of his demands on home. The publication of "Anacreon" by subscription was now determined on; and on his return to Dublin friends seem to have been active in promoting its success. On his next visit to London, in the winter of the same year, 1799, his whole time seems to have been occupied in such corrections of his manuscript as almost amounted to re-writing the work. A letter from Dr. Lawrence, Burke's friend, to whom parts of the manuscript had been shown, gave Moore great delight and encouragement. The fault of the translation being too much of paraphrase, was felt and pointed out by Lawrence; but this is a fault not very easily avoided by a translator. The language of every true poet is suggestive-suggestive of much more than it expresses to an ordinary reader— and much of what is suggested to the reader of the original must be somewhat more distinctly expressed by the translator, if he wishes to please his readers in the same relative position to his work that the readers of the original are to it. This, however, is one of the mysteries which, to the uninitiated, it is impossible to explain, and Moore must be satisfied to bear such reproaches as Dryden and Pope have borne. A more serious fault than this, or even than another which Lawrence imputes, that of the translator adding some turns not to be found in the original, is, that the character of the translation of "Anacreon" is different from that of the original. Gay, sportive, everywhere light and graceful, is the Greek original.The translation is loaded with metaphor, and cloying with too much of sweet. It is, however, wherever picture was to be brought out, always superior to the original. Its music is often perfect, and we regard it as a wonderful work of genius. The translations of several little French and Italian poems in the notes are always admirable. They are more faithful to the originals than the "Anacreon." In May or June, 1800, he obtains permission to dedicate "Anacreon" to the Prince of Wales. On Moore's first visit to London we find him receiving attentions from Lord Moira. On the next, he is at Donington: "Among the most vivid of my early English recollections, is that of my first night at Donington, when Lord Moira, with that high courtesy for which he was remarkable, lighted me, himself, to my bed-room; and there was this stately personage stalking on before me through the long-light d gallery, bearing in his hand my lel-candle, which he delivered to me at the door of my apartment. I thought it all exceedingly fine and grand, but at the same time, most urcomfortable; and little I foresaw how much at home, and at my ease, I should one day find myself in that great house."- Vol. i. pp. 75, 76. We have him now (1800) everywhere. "Three parties," he says, "each night"-his singing the great object of attraction. Here is a letter, of March, 1801, to his mother : I was last night at a ball, which (as we say) swept the town-everybody was there-two or three of the Princes, the Stadtholder, &c., &c. You may imagine the affability of the Prince of Wales, when his address to me was, 'How do you do, Moore? I am glad to see you.' I kept my piece back too long. I am afraid they will not have time to bring it out this season, and it is too expensive for Colman's theatre. He has read it, however; is quite delighted with it; and wishes me to undertake something on a more moderate scale for the little theatre, which, perhaps, I shall do. But, please God! I must, I think, see my dear ones in summer again. Don't let me be forgot in your lodgings: keep a corner for Tom. Love to you all-to the whole rookery."-Vol. i. p. 112. In 1802 we find him designated Anacreon Moore. In 1803 there is a letter to his mother, from which, if we understand it rightly, he was offered the office of poet laureate; nay, accepted it wrote a birth-day ode, and immediately resigned the post which he regarded as, at least, of doubtful honour. He was soon afterwards given an office in the Admiralty Court, at Bermuda, which was never of much emo lument to him, and was, in after years, the cause of great anxiety and vexation. The letters to his family carry on the story of his adventures to the year 1806. In the shiftings of party, he had reasonable expectations of getting something from Lord Moira, or through his interest. An office of no great value, but sufficient for his wants, was obtained for his father; and to this extent Moore, on whom the support of the old people had now in great part fallen, obtained relief. The Bermuda office carried Moore abroad, and he also visited America in the course of the same year. Every thought of Moore's heart and mind expressed itself in language. The interruption of his constant intercourse, by almost daily letters with his family, which his separation from them now created, probably led to his writing down every impression of the moment in the more permanent form of verse; and soon after his return he published his "Odes, Epistles," &c. The Edinburgh Review was then in its highest power. Moore was the poet, too, most in fashion. Without other magic it could not have commanded the great power it possessed over the public nind, but as in the Eastern tale of Southey the sacrifice of a red-haired Christian was necessary to complete the spell, no number would do without something of the kind. We do not mean to say that Moore was a redhaired Christian, an imputation which he would have probably, as far as the colour of the hair went, be disposed to resent; but the Irish poet was felt to be an acceptable sacrifice, and Jeffrey, the then high priest, prepared himself for the task. In all Jeffrey's reviews of poetry, there is a clear appreciation of the powers of the writer-great disdain of all affectation; and we know no writer in whom we should more expect to find burning indignation against the sort of immorality which is involved in the production of profligate |