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have been better engaged than in the narration of his own vivacious story, seizes his quill in the prime of life, resolved to do for himself and the public what nobody can do half so well for either; and charmingly details the course of his history, from its dawn in 1779 until its noon in the year of grace 1799, cruelly leaving the afternoon, the twilight, and the black night, to be described by other and less capable hands. He, like the rest, withdraws from his great enterprise before it is fairly begun, content to add another to the many monuments of the world as expressive of the human weakness of the builders as of their ingenuity and skill.

self for the celebrity he won, and for the social rank which he was not slow to attain. Humble, however, as the parents of Moore might be, his mother, at least, seems to have been possessed of talents highly serviceable to her son. In many respects she was a remarkable woman. At a very early age the child exhibited undoubted genius, and she took extraordinary pains to cultivate the gift. She sent him early to school, and at home encouraged his talents by every availablə means as they developed themselves. Two mistakes, in her very pardonable and amiable anxiety to advance the interests of her child, Mrs. Moore committed. She was, perhaps, Why is it that the hearts of these writers, too eager to force him into the society of the which beat so stoutly at the beginning of the great, and somewhat too desirous to see him journey, suddenly flag even before the heat of ministering to the amusement of his betters. the day has come on? Can it be simply that The effect of such maternal teaching Moore, sunlight rests upon the distant scenes of boy- with all his admirable qualities, never thorhood; that memory has hoarded up the oughly outgrew. It is manifest in his diary, recollection of the unclouded time, and revels and overflows in his correspondence. At in it; that the spirit becomes depressed as every period, as we shall see, he was much the golden region is gradually quitted, and too solicitous for a seat at the high tables, and utterly beaten in presence of the storms for the privilege of winning approval from which first give note of vicissitude, and indi- exclusive lips by means of his accomplishcate the struggles, the battles, and the suffer- ments. Before he rhymed Tom was an actor; ings of life? Or is it that youth, which is as a mere child, he informs us, he was sinthe season of the imagination, may lawfully gled out by the master of the Dublin grambe painted in the colors of fancy, while man- mar school on days of public examination as hood must content itself with the soberer one of the most popular and successful exhibhues of reason and judgment? Or is it, after itors in the academy. As a child, also, he · all, that when a distinguished poet or novel- put forth his first pretensions to poetry, since ist describes his own childhood, he disports in in the year 1789 he remembered to have a field exclusively his own, and that when he written his earliest verses. No wonder that ventures upon times familiar to his contempo- the vintner's wife felt proud of her son; more raries he is subdued by the knowledge that marvellous that, with all her love and pride, his once all-credulous listeners have suddenly she did not utterly spoil the susceptible and become his well-informed and exacting critics? ardent mind that submitted to her training. Be the explanation what it may, the fact is Indulgence, though excessive, happily stopped here. Our chief modern writers generously short of neglect of duty, or rather compre promise us an account of their lives, and they hended the performance of the very first of put us off with a meagre chapter. The rule duties. Mrs. Moore, quick to discern that, is invariable, and admits of no exception. As without solid acquirements, her boy could certainly as they begin, so surely they stum- never retain the popularity won by his his ble on the threshold. Thomas Moore tells us trionic and other feats, evinced the greatest that he was born in Dublin on the twenty-solicitude to promote his school studies. eighth of May, 1779. He was of the humblest origin. His grandfather on his mother's side, who lived in Wexford, was engaged in the provision trade, and had something to do with weaving; but of his paternal grandfather he knew literally nothing, never having heard his name mentioned. His own father kept a small wine-store in Dublin; so that the poet is indebted to no one but him

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herself examined him daily in his lessons, and was vigilant to note his progress. Some curious instances of her affectionate zeal Moore records. On more than one occasion, when the lad had gone to bed, the mother being away from home, the latter would take care to visit the bedside on her return, and, waking up the sleeper, induce him to repeat the lessons he had prepared for the following

day. Moore, who, to his last hour, loved | knowledge, and occasionally wrote poetry for his mother with a fine and manly affection, the gratification of his mother and the wonvividly remembered in his age how cheerfully der of her acquaintance. His college comand happily he had obeyed in his childhood panions were the ardent spirits of the time, the mother's nocturnal summons, and how and his best beloved friends those who were peacefully he slept after pleasing her with the most deeply implicated in revolutionary deperformance of his task. signs. It is well for Moore that he contrived to escape the subsequent fate of his less fortunate companions; there can be little doubt that but for the strong maternal injunctions, and his own good sense, his excitable soul must have been drawn into the troubles that proved so fatal to his fellows. Once only he identified himself with the Irish conspirators by contributing a letter to the columns of their organ; but the horror of his mother at the discovery of his rashness was sufficient to arrest the pen forever afterwards. Better employment was that found by Moore in Marsh's library, to which, through his acquaintance with the son of the librarian, our student obtained admittance during the months it was closed to the public, and where, by hunting through the old bookshelves, he tells us he acquired "much of the odd, out-of-the-way sort of reading, that may be found scattered through some of his earlier works." It was here that he accumulated notes for the work upon which, at a very early period of his academical career, he had set his heart—namely, the translation of the whole of the odes attributed to Anacreon.

A third faculty made itself evident. While still a child Moore discovered a taste for music, as well as for recitation and poetic composition. The mother, quick to make the most of the talent, possessed herself of an old harpsichord, employed a youth, who was in the service of a tuner in the nighborhood, to give her son instruction, and encouraged the child as was her wont-to exhibit his musical powers to all her visitors — his taste for singing corresponding with his passion for music. In due time, by dint of great economy, the good lady contrived to save money enough to exchange the old harpsichord for a new pianoforte; pleasant gatherings then took place in the private apartments of the wine-store, at which, after supper, the song went round, and little Tom would give, with general applause, the best of Dibdin's songs, while his mother delighted all listeners with such approved ditties as How sweet in the woodlands!"

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While Moore was thus occupied in the legitimate studies of the University his sensible mother continued her exertions on his behalf out of doors. It was necessary that he should read French, and the indefatigable lady accordingly procured the services of a French refugee, who, like, all the teachers of the youthful poet, was forthwith made a friend of the house, and a partaker of the family cheer. In the course of five months Tom made rapid progress under the hands of the kindly treated and grateful M. La Fosse.

But, as before stated, the main object of a useful life was still paramount in the sensible mother's mind. In 1793, when Tom was fourteen years old, an act of enfranchisement was passed which enabled Roman Catholics thenceforward to enter the University and to go to the bar, and Mrs. Moore resolved at once that her boy should receive such an education as would enable him to distinguish himself in the profession of the law. In the Dublin school there was a Latin usher. Mrs. Moore, in pursuance of her system, loaded this teacher with civilities, invited him to her house, and induced him, by other acts of kindness, to regard his pupil with somewhat of the affection she felt for her son. Moore was nineteen years old when he consequence of this excusable diplomacy was took his degree. At this period he had made the rapid advance of Tom not only in the considerable advance in his Anacreon, and he learned languages, but in all the other studies ventured to hope that he might obtain for it of the school. He was well prepared when a classical premium from the University. he entered Trinity College, in 1794, a year The Provost, however, shook his head solemnly after his first printed poem had been published in the Anthologia Hibernica, in the form of "Verses to Zelia, on her charging the author with writing too much on love."

The

At the University Tom followed the bent of his genius; he worked steadily, acquiring

at the amatory and convivial production, and Moore was fain to reserve his translation for a more extended audience. He looked towards London. The scholastic apprenticeship over, it was time to begin the battle. The lad was to be entered at the Temple, and

then to help himself on as best he might. |ing with Stockdale, of Piccadilly, for the Slender was the purse which the adventurer publication of Anacreon, Moore made the best carried with him to the great city. The of his way back to his "dear Dublin home." family resources were scanty at the best, and Not, however, to remain. the boy's inevitable expenses proved a serious drain. But every penny was joyfully scraped together, and the loving and dutiful son went forth. Part of the small sum which he carried with him was in guineas, and these the solicitous mother carefully sewed up in the waistband of his pantaloons. Sewed up in another part of his clothes was a scapula, or small bit of cloth- an unfailing remedy against all harm — duly blessed by the priest. Fortified by this, by his devoted mother's prayers, and by his own consciousness of power, he first trod the streets of London.

London was a dangerous scene for so warm a nature as that of the young candidate for its applause. From his very childhood Moore had lived in gay society, had been flattered for his acting, for his singing, and for his own original songs. His mother had made him what is called "a show child," and perfect success had attended all his exhibitions. Still, Moore was protected from the most baneful kind of dissipation by two fortunate circumstances. From the commencement of his musical displays he had accompanied himself on the pianoforte, so that he had become absolutely dependent upon his instrument, even in his convivial songs. This fact, and his natural disposition, which induced him always to prefer the society of women to that of men, constituted his best defence against the coarser seductions of the metropolis, and no doubt preserved the refinement of his mind. Arrived in London, introductions to the best people were easy. In Ireland the lad had mixed, much to his mother's satisfaction, familiarly in society from which she and her husband were, of course, rigidly excluded. From his Irish friends and patrons letters were taken, and, although young Moore had no better lodgings than a front room up two-pair of stairs at No. 44, George-street, Portman-square, for which he paid six shillings a week," and although he lived with all the economy his affection for the dear ones at home induced him to exercise, he stepped at once into high regions, secured his footing, and remained there welcome to the last.

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The first visit to the metropolis must have been a brief one, for, after going through the forms of initiation at the Temple, and arrang

It was (Moore writes himself) on my next visit to England, that having, through the medium of another of my earliest and kindest friends, Joe Atkinson, been introduced to Lord Moira, I was invited to pay a visit to Donington-park, on my time, a great event in my life, and among the way to London. This was, of course, at that 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 and there was this stately personage, stalking on remarkable, lighted me himself to my bedroom; before me through the long lighted gallery, bearing in his hand my bed candle, which he delivered to me at the door of my apartment.

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Brilliant, indeed, were the prospects of Tom Moore when he quitted Donington for London, and said "Good by " to Lord Moira, only to say "How do you do?" to the Prince of Wales. Anacreon was to be published by subscription numberless were the fine people who subscribed for the work, and, to crown all, George, Prince of Wales, consented, in person, to receive the dedication. The affability of the said George towards the young songster was overwhelming, and one only marvels that Tom could have found the heart at any time to satirize his once gracious patron. "I was yesterday," writes the lad of twenty-one,

Introduced to his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. He is, beyond doubt, a man of very him, he said he was very happy to know a man When I was presented to fascinating manners. of my abilities; and when I thanked him for the honor he did me in permitting the dedication of Anacreon, he stopped me, and said the honor was entirely his, in being allowed to put his name to a work of such merit. He then said that

he hoped, when he returned to town in the winter, we should have many opportunities of enjoying each other's society; that he was passionately

fond of music, and had long heard of my talents
in that way.
Is not all this very fine?"
Fine!

have been at court before." Lady Harrington had got the ticket from one of the prinIt is superb. But familiarity in- cesses, and her ladyship's servant never rested creases. A few months afterwards prince until he had discovered the general favorite and poet meet at a ball. The salutation and deposited the precious talisman in his was, "How do you do, Moore? I am glad to hands. "You may be assured I hurried see you;" just as Tom's father would have home and dressed for the Ancient Music' said to the vintner over the way. And the immediately." March 24th. "What do you thing goes on! Tom on one occasion has think? Young Lord Forbes and another young only time to write a few lines to his mother. nobleman dine with me to-morrow. But what lines they are every one a volume in itself!

This was

a thing put on me, and I shall do it with a - Lord Moira goes good grace." June 16th.

The prince was extremely kind to me last a great round out of his way to set the lad night at a small supper party at which I met down "at Sir Watkin's, from Mrs. Duff's. him; every one noticed the cordiality with which where we met a large rout." The new year he spoke to me. His words were these:-"I am begins quite as splendidly as the old year very glad to see you here again, Moore. From go this the reports I have heard I was afraid we had lost goes out. January 30, 1802. — “I § you. I assure you" - laying his hand on my evening to a Blue Stocking supper, at Lady shoulder at the same time- it was a subject of Mount-Edgecumbe's: it is the first this season, general concern." Could anything be more flattering? I must say I felt rather happy at that

moment.

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and I shall be initiated. I met all my old fashionable friends at a rout last night, the opening of the season; three hundred people." If Moore did not feel not only happy, but A year's experience, and Tom gives himself supremely blest, during the whole of his early airs. March 4, 1802, just one twelvemonth London career, he was not the lad we think after Lady Harrington's servant had rushed him. Never was aspirant for public favor through the town after Moore with the "Anso fêted and caressed. Never had the delib-cient Music " ticket in his hand, our young erate plans of a fond mother heen crowned so gentleman assumes the style and language of speedily with the most triumphant success! his set. "The people!" the young coxcomb We literally envy the feelings with which the writes to the vintner's lady, whose head must absorbed lady must have contemplated letter really have become bewildered by this time, after letter, all bearing witness to the value" the people will not let me stay at home as of her early arrangements and to the marvel- much as I wish, and I sometimes wish all the lous wisdom of her educational system. Tom has hardly a shirt to his back, yet the great world lies at his feet. We call the reader's attention to the following proofs, gathered at random from the letters: - January 27, 1801.

duchesses and marchionesses chez le diable!" Have we no painter who will draw, for the next exhibition, good Mrs. Moore spelling this epistle to her friends in the small drawingroom of Aungier-street, No. 12, at the corner of Little Longford-street, Dublin?

We can afford space for only two more extracts; but these will speak for all the rest. On the 2d of June, 1802, Moore writes to his mother an account of one day's occupations :- "I breakfasted with the Lord Mayor, dined with Lord Moira, and went in the evening to Mrs. Butler's, the Duchess of Athol's, Lady Mount-Edgecumbe's and Lady Call's, which was a ball, where I danced till five o'clock in the morning." On the 17th of April following he gives her to understand On that there are no less than three families about this country who are teazing me to spend the spring at their houses." The lucky litterateur monopolizes the favor of country as of town!

"What do you think? Lord Moira, who came to town but yesterday, called on me in person to-day, and left his card is not this excellent?" March 1st. "Last night I had sir invitations. Everything goes on swimmingly with me. I dined with the Bishop of Meath on Friday last, and went to a party at Mrs. Crewe's in the evening." By the 6th of March, things have got to such a height that there is not a single night for which the young Irishman has not three invitations, but he "takes Hammersley's advice, and sends showers of apologies." the 4th of March Lady Harrington had sent her servant after the lad to two or three places, with a ticket for the "Ancient Music," which is the King's concert, and which is so select that those "who go to it ought to

Yet rack not your souls with envy, scribes

of the present time! We admit that duch-ically writes to his mother, "that people essess and marchionesses do not plague you who value the silk so much should not feed with invitations until you are forced to wish the poor worm who wastes himself in spinning the inviters chez le diable. We grant that no it out to them." Five years after penning countess' lacqueys are seeking you in all the these syllables he writes to the same correhaunts of fashion in order to conduct you to spondent: "I have often said I was careless places still more select. We will take your about the attractions of gay society, but I word for it that great lords do not earn think, for the first time, I begin to feel really honor by lighting you to your couch, and so. I pass through the rows of fine carriages that royal princes do not lean on your in Bond-street without the slightest impashoulder while they assure you that your tience to renew my acquaintance with those temporary absence from the metropolis has inside of them." The feeling of equanimity been "a subject of general concern;" but was, however, less fixed in the bosom of the we entreat you never to forget that the great ardent poet than it appears to have been in among us are traffickers of their favors, as the breasts of his patrons. He continued to the small are dealers in the commodities minister to the enjoyments of the great until by which they live. One acknowledgment it pleased God to darken his fine intellect, and creeps out again and again in the dazzling to render him unconscious equally of the epistles of Thomas Moore. If honor is good and the evil of this world. The great conferred upon him, he communicates still forgot him utterly before he died; for at his more delight to the givers. With the same grave there stood of them all not one solitary breath that he announces having dined with representative, even to mourn the loss of the the Bishop of Meath he states that "his music that had once lent such enchantment songs have taken such a rage; even surpass-to their halls. ing what they did in Dublin." While he In his youth Moore justly looked for makes a vaunt of shaking hands with the advancement from his princely entertainers. prince at Lady Harrington's supper, he also The majority of them were men of mark, of boasts that at that supper prince and lady, influence, and of power. He was poor; and, hostess and guests, are charmed beyond ex-beyond the necessity he felt for providing as pression with his displays. "Monk Lewis," securely as possible for his own maintenance, he writes, was in the greatest agonies' he had always a commendable anxiety to the other night at Lady Donegall's, at having administer to the wants and comforts of those come in after my songs. 'Pon his honor, he at home, who had sacrificed already so largely had come for the express purpose of hearing for him. He was well-informed - a scholarme.'' As time wore on, Moore himself a poet. If patronage should fall to his aristobecame gradually aware of the tacit under-cratic friends he was willing to receive his standing that existed between him and his fair share of the goods of fortune. One piece magnificent entertainers. Whatever may of patronage came in his way in 1803, at have been his first impressions, he was which, for a moment, he was ready to clutch, obliged to learn at last that the favors dis- although a minute afterwards he as eagerly pensed to him were matters of sale and bargain, just as if he had received them like so much gold over the counter. Although Moore sang exquisitely, and with a pathos and expression that cannot be understood by those who were not privileged to hear him, yet, being a scholar and a gentleman, it was impossible to hire him like an opera singer. Aristocratic countenance was more precious to the poet in his youth than any other coin, and for such countenance he sold to earthly buyers his heavenly gifts. How, as he grew older, he grew also weary of the hollow and barren remuneration, we gather from more than one significant passage in his letters. "It is strange," he once pathet

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rejected it. We learn dimly from a letter, dated May 20, 1803-which, as usual, is left to tell its own tale darkly without one line of comment from the editor-that the poet laureateship was at this time offered to Moore in a manner that "would disgust any man with the least spirit of independence about him"- that poor Tom, thinking his parents were in immediate want of money, instantly accepted it nevertheless, and then, hearing that his father had no instant necessity for assistance, threw the situation up after enclosing an "Ode for the Birthday," written in desolation of heart, we presume, by command of the authorities.

Three months afterwards a more inviting

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