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in one of the earliest of those songs, I, myself, foresaw and foretold the sort of echo they would awaken in other lands.

The stranger shall hear our lament on his plains,
The song of our harp shall be sent o'er the deep.

This prediction I have lived to see accomplished. The stranger has heard our lament on his plains, and the song of our harp has been sent o'er the deep, and wherever oppression is struggled against, or liberty cherished, there the strains of Ireland are welcomed as the language native to such feelings. It is a striking fact that, on the banks of the Vistula, the Irish Melodies have been translated in a Polish sense, and are adopted by that wronged and gallant people as expressive of their own disastrous fate. Not to trespass any longer on your attention, I shall only add, that there exists no title of honour or distinction in all ambition's proud catalogue to which I could attach half so much value, or feel half so anxious to retain unforfeited through life, as that of being called your poet, the poet of the people of Ireland."

MOORE'S LATTER YEARS.

Moore enjoyed from 1835 to the time of his death a pension of £300 from government, which was conferred upon him by Lord Melbourne. This annuity (the honourable reward of literary merit) enabled the poet to pass the closing years of his life in comfort, free at least from pecuniary care. He wrote nothing later than the "History of Ireland," except the prefaces which are printed with the collected

editions of his works, which appeared in 1841 and 1842. Domestic affliction was Moore's lot during latter life, and it required all the tender care of an affectionate wife to cheer the last years of the bard. With the exception of that amiable lady, it was his lot

"To see each loved one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth."

His children all passed to an early grave, and his last visit to his native land (of course private), was to attend the funeral of a sister, whom he loved with a deep affection. For the last three years of his life the poet laboured under a ramollissement of the brain, not in his case attended with pain, and on the 26th February, 1852, in the seventy-third year of his age, in his cottage home at Sloperton, the gentle spirit of the "Bard of Erin" passed

away.

Moore was interred in a country churchyard, near Devizes, and the words engraved on his tombstone are

THOMAS MOORE,

"THE POET AND PATRIOT OF IRELAND."

It is to the mutual honour of Moore and of Moore's countrymen that the sad tidings of his death fell upon no insensate ears. Although that melancholy event could not but have been expected on account of the state of Moore's health for a considerable time, yet no sooner was it certain that the poet was lost to Ireland for ever as a living man, than a deep feeling of sorrow pervaded all who had

the taste to know what a bereavement our country and literature had sustained. The funeral of Sheil had but just passed through Dublin, and all felt that with Moore closed that brilliant line of gifted Irishmen, whose genius illumined the first half of the present century.

The first tribute paid to the memory of Moore was the performance of a selection of the "Melodies" and several lyrical passages from his longer poems. The writer of these pages had the honour of first suggesting the appropriateness of celebrating Moore by a performance of his own beautiful songs. An analogous tribute (appropriately appealing to the eye instead of the ear) was paid to Scott, at whose death in 1832 a representation took place in London of those scenes which his great genius had conjured up. The successful manner in which Professor Glover, of this city (founder of the Royal Choral Institute), executed the laborious task entrusted to him by a committee, of making the proper selections, and of conducting four performances of the "Recollections of Moore," elicited universal and deserved praise. Some very feeling lines were composed for the occasion, by Mr. Elrington (better known in literary circles as S. N. E.), one of our most promising poets. The Lord Chief Baron, subsequently, at the meeting at Charlemont House, with exquisite taste suggested, that such a tribute should be annually paid to the lyrical genius of Moore.

The meeting which took place at Charlemont House on the 29th March, 1852, will long be remembered as the most intellectual assembly which has ever been seen in Dublin, and we question if, even

in the metropolis of the empire, so many men of a high order of literary talent could have been assembled. We affix to our little volume the published report of this meeting. The observations of the chairman, Lord Charlemont (who, as we have seen, was chairman at the dinner to Moore in 1818), were such as became his lordship's friendship for Moore, and his predilections for literature. The speech of the Lord Chief Baron was a model of taste and of the spoken melody of eloquence. Mr. (now Lord) O'Hagan's speech was truly eloquent, and no man can read that of Sir William Hamilton without feeling regret, that quiet scientific study should have been his exclusive choice, instead of some arena requiring an orator, as well as a man of deep research.

REMARKS ON THE CHARACTER AND WRITINGS
OF MOORE,

WITH CRITICISMS BY HIS CONTEMPORARIES, AND SOME
PERSONAL ANECDOTES.

In glancing at the character of Moore, the most pleasing feature observable is his warm affection to each member of his family. He always expressed himself in terms of endearment towards his parents. To his mother he was deeply attached, and she appears to have well merited his love. Of his father, Moore speaks in terms of warm gratitude at the memorable banquet of 1818. At that historic entertainment, Moore's father was present, and his health was proposed. Moore returned thanks briefly and feelingly.

If," said he, "I deserve one half of the honours which have been heaped upon me, to him and to

the education which he struggled hard to give me, I owe it all. Yes, to him and to an admirable mother, one of the warmest ever this land of warm hearts ever produced; whose highest ambition for her son has been that independent and unbought approbation of his countrymen, which, thank God, she lives this day to witness." This was the genuine eloquence of deep feeling, honourable to the parents, honourable to the son.

"I

On the same occasion, Mrs. Moore's health was proposed. This lady had been Miss Dyke. To her Moore paid the tribute of warm acknowledgment for the happiness she had brought him. shall leave," said he, "those amongst you who have perfect happiness at home to imagine mine." What a contrast to Moore does Byron present, between whom and his mother there was a perpetual discord, and whose married life (and certainly it was not his wife's fault) was clouded with such gloom. Yes, it is a most pleasing thought that Moore as a son, brother, husband, and father, passed through life affectionately, and that in all the relations of domestic life, he bore an unspotted reputation.

And though mingling with the highest in the land, Moore was never weak enough to be ashamed of his humble origin. Genius had made him the guest of princes, but he never shrank from the distinct avowal, that he was the son of a tradesman.

The following is an instance of that innate dignity of character, "which chance nor gives, nor takes away." When Moore's celebrity was in its first glow, he received a flattering invitation to dine with the Prince of Wales. His royal host was delighted with him, and after dinner fell into

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