PREFATORY MEMOIR.

"THE world," says Lord Russell, in his "Memoirs of Moore," " so long as it can be moved by sympathy and exalted by fancy, will not willingly let die the tender strains and pathetic fires of a true poet." We accept this as just. Neither the noises of factories nor the speculations of science, in this our utilitarian age, have as yet drowned the gentler sound of the lyre or quenched the passionate fires of poesy ; and body-workers and brain-workers, now and for ever, will turn in their hours of relaxation, with all the keener relish, to the charms of the tale and the song. And so it is that MOORE, a true poet," still lives as fresh in the heart and memory of England, as when his Odes of Anacreon first told the world that a new poet had arisen.

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The birth of the poet was portentous of his future. He entered the world amid sounds of song and revelry and wit, ringing, on the 28th of May, 1780, from the apartments which John Moore, the grocer, had let in his house, No. 12, Aungier Street, Dublin, to a young barrister. An easy-going social man was John, not without a pleasant humour; one of nature's gentlemen, having all the repose of good breeding by which the true gentleman in all classes is distinguished: but Anastatia, his wife, was a woman of superior cast, of strong sense, deep maternal love, and a high ambition for her eldest born. An education the best to be obtained -which probably taxed severely the good grocer's means—was given the boy at the instance of his mother. The theatrical tastes of the master, Samuel Whyte, stimulated those of the pupil, who first recited Whyte's epilogues, and then took. to write epilogues himself, even in his tenth year. Indeed, before that he had given manifestations; for he tells us, "So far back in childhood lies the epoch, that I am really unable to say at what age I first began to act, sing, and rhyme." A home education in music-first on an antiquated harpsichord, soon replaced, not without some grumbling from John, by a pianoforte-touched, as with the prophet's wand, that spring from which, in after life, streams so sweet, so sparkling, so abundant, were to flow. Music, said Moore, more than thirty years afterwards, was "the only art for which, in my own opinion, I was born with a real natural love; my poetry, such as it is, having sprung out of my deep feeling for music." How true this is, every one familiar with his lyrics will feel. The lines come trembling with the melody that has evoked them, telling how with him, as with all perfect writers of song, the music of sound had preceded the music of speech; and teaching us that not without a deep significance did the Greek mythologists assign to Euterpe an eller birth than to her sisters Melpomene and Calliope. A Dublin periodical, the Anthologia Hibernica, as well as the journals, afforded the young poet opportunities of seeing his verses in print; and his fond, proud mother determined that

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he should enter Trinity College, then recently thrown open to Roman Catholics, of which persuasion the Moores were members; so in 1793 he was one of the first of the "young Helots" who availed himself of the privilege. The political condition. of his co-religionists, from which they were then struggling to free themselves, was as keenly felt by the ardent young poet as might be expected. "Born,” as he says, "a rebel "-a rebel, let us add, only against those unjust disabilities which have happily been removed-the impressions which his mind then received, however they may have been modified in after life, were never obliterated. Moore's college course was not unmarked with honours and reputation; he signalized himself by verses which obtained the commendation of the Board, and stood for a scholarship, to find himself qualified by his answering, but, of course, disqualified by his religion—a fact that perhaps naturally intensified his feeling of dissatisfaction with the political status of Roman Catholics. As might be expected, however, Moore's reading was somewhat more discursive than the curriculum, and he was already occupied with the translations of Anacreon, to the preparation of which he devoted much time and study in Marsh's library, singularly rich in theological works, and to which, as he says, "I was indebted for much of the odd, out-of-the-way sort of reading that may be found scattered through some of my earlier works." It was now, too, that Moore exhibited all those peculiar gifts, which were yet to ripen into such rich maturity, first in the College Debating Society, when Thomas Addis Emmet and he contracted their fast friendship, and afterwards in the more ambitious arena of the famous College Historical Society, of which they were both admitted members. The discontent and the ambition of the young man found another vent in the columns of the Press, the journal of the "United Irishmen," first in what he called an “imitation of Ossian," a composition that has in it little to commend either in a literary or political sense; and next in a bolder attempt, "A Letter to the Students of Trinity College," "written," the matured critic himself says afterwards, “in a turgid, Johnsonian sort of style, but seasoned with plenty of the then favourite condiment-treason." The turgescence is considerable; the Johnsonianism is without the vigour of the doctor; but the treason is undeniable. While we allude to these as his early political writings, we may well be lenient to the defects and errors of a youth of seventeen. Whether he should have been gradually drawn deeper into the treason is a matter of speculation, and not worth speculating upon. Happily the voice of one who never spoke to him in vain-that of his mother-entreated him "never again to venture on so dangerous a step," and he readily pledged the solenın promise she required of him. These political manifestations were, however, not without their consequences, as he was shortly after subjected to the ordeal of an examination before the visitors of the college, who sat to investigate the well-founded suspicion of the treasonable sentiments that had infected the minds of the students. It is to the honour of Moore that he has since admitted how well justified these proceedings were which at the time seemed so inquisitorial, while it is equally creditable to the independent spirit of the youth, that while taking, even under protest, the oath administered to him as a witness, he did so with the manly qualification of refusing to answer any questions that might endanger others. "I have no

fear, my lord," said he to Chancellor Clare," that anything I might say would criminate myself, but it might tend to affect others; and I must say that I despise that person's

character who could be led under any circumstances to criminate his associates." Having obtained his degree of Bachelor of Arts, Moore proceeded to London with a view of qualifying himself for the bar-his naine having previously been entered on the books of the Middle Temple-and the dearer object of publishing his translations of Anacreon. How touchingly he describes the ever-ministering, self denying tenderness of that mother, who scraped together out of the scanty resources of her family those hoarded moneys that were to furnish forth him on whom all her hopes were centred. "A part of the small sum I took with me was in guineas, and, I recollect, was carefully sewed up by my mother in the waistband of my pantaloons. There was also another treasure which she had, unknown to me, sewed up in some other part of my clothes, and that was a scapular (as it is called), or small bit of cloth blessed by the priest, which a fond superstition inclined her to believe would keep the wearer of it from harm. And thus with this charm about me, of which I was wholly unconscious, and my little packet of guineas, of which I felt deeply the responsibility, did I for the first time start from home for the great world of London.”

The great world of London! That world whose peopled wastes have witnessed the struggles, and the sorrows, and the folly, and the ruin of so many a child of genius. Otway "naked in the rage of hunger," choked by the mouthful of bread that casual charity supplied to him; Chatterton wandering about the streets" in a perpetual state of fever and excitement," without the means of keeping body and soul together, and coming home o' nights to keep the vigil of an over-wrought brain and a hand ever labouring with the pen, till poison, self-administered, consigned him to the felon's doom and an ignominious grave in Shoe Lane Workhouse; aye, and Moore's own countryman, Goldsmith, sleeping with the beggars in Axe Lane; and Dermody dying in a hovel, crouching chill and starved over a few embers, with the rain and wind beating in upon his last hour, the only mourners whose tears and sighs attended his horrible death bed; and Gerald Griffin-but not till a later day-heart-broken and paralyzed, writing amid intolerable agonies. The great world of London! Yes, great, too, in the noblest sense of greatness; great in her energizing vitality, with the strong life-blood of labour beating pulse-like through every street and court and lane; great in her charities; great in her literary funds and authors' societies to help the meritorious struggler; the London of Thackeray and Dickens, and many another who have fought well and bravely the battle of the brain and the pen, and have won it, and after the victory stretch out the hand to help those that are battling still. But for Moore London had no trials in reserve. Pleasant acquaintances were secured for him, and amongst them his own countryman, yet to become illustrious as the No doubt the fame of the Fresident of the Royal Academy, Martin Archer Shee. young poet-for many of his translations of Anacreon had ere this been read and admired-had preceded him to London; and we learn from his letters home that he was making his way in society. Dr. Hume aided him in procuring a publisher; Dr. Lawrence read his Anacreon with the cye of a cic and the heart of a friend; Johnson, cf Covent Garden, began to sing his songs in company, and through him he became acquainted with the theatrical stars of the day; and above all, he was introduced to that distinguished soldier and statesman, Francis, Earl of Moira, and afterwards the first Marquis of Hastings. A short visit to home, and Moore is again in London. All goes on, as he says himself, "swimmingly." It is