618 



sweetness of the strai n 

 the natural flowing of the feeling, like 

 the melody uf some gentle stream in a 

 sunny valley. VVe cannot congratulate 

 tiie genius of the discoverer who found 

 out that Pope was no poet; neither do 

 we do this great man any dishonour, in 

 placing Goldsmith by his side as his 

 equal in all thitigs. The lights of a glori- 

 ous age, different, but equal. Pope had 

 more cultivated dignity of style — more 

 manner. His verses bore evidence of 

 great labour, and the effect was striking. 

 His poetry was like his nation, powerful, 

 cultivated, excellent ; but all, in some 

 degree, the effect of a laborious and 

 thrifty spirit, sparing no pains, and ma- 

 king the uttermost even of the least 

 things. 



Goldsmith was the opposite of all this; 

 there is a facility in his verse that looks 

 like carelessness — something like the 

 negligence of his nation in (he manage- 

 ment of his subject; but its precious 

 glow of feeling, its touching tenderness, 

 and its power over the heart. There is 

 no poem in the English language that 

 can be placed before the " Deserted 

 Village," but there are many that show 

 more skill, and thought and attention 

 bestowed upon them. Nature had done 

 all for Goldsmith : study did much for 

 Pope. The former hardly knew he was 

 a poet ; the latter learned his powers in 

 the severity of his studies. 



Moore, tiiongh very different from 

 Goldsmith, is not less national. The 

 genius of this brilliant poet is in all res- 

 pects Irish; his beauties, his blemishes, 

 his sins, and his atonements, all belong 

 to his nation. There are poets that have 

 offended less, but there is, perhaps, but 

 one, — and his offences are of a deeper 

 die, — who hath equal brilliancy and pa- 

 thos. The melancholy, the gaiety, the 

 plaintive sweetness, and the almost 

 riotous exuberance of mirth, are all his 

 own and his country's. Since the days 

 of remotest antiquity, no lyre has ever 

 made so sweet a melody as Moore's. 

 He stands, in this age, alone and unri- 

 valled, the master of the sweetest and 

 only minstrelsy. 



The ancient music of Ireland was a 

 rich and long neglected mine of melody. 

 The genius of Moore possessed itself at 

 once of all its treasures, and in the in 

 spiration of its deep caves, resounded 

 vcith the spells and enchantments of for- 

 gotten ages, he was tilled with the "Soul 

 of Music" The music of Ireland was 

 exquisitely pathetic and plaintive, it was 

 wild and unequal, passing, but always 



O'Driscol's Views of Ireland. 



His verse seems with skill and feeling, through every 

 variety of note and modulation, and 

 from one strain to another ; from the 

 deepest melancholy to the gaiety of a 

 spirit resolved to shake off its weight of 

 care, and to forget its sorrows in excess 

 of merriment. 



The harp of this skilful minstrel was 

 true to the ear and the heart of the 

 nation, for which he touched its chords. 

 Moore's melodies are not confined to 

 the drawing-room and the saloon ; they 

 have had the merit to please the vulgar, 

 and have been sung in the streets to ad- 

 miring crowds ; an eulogy at once upon 

 the poet and the people. They must be 

 true to nature, or they could not please 

 the crowd, and it evinced no mean taste 

 in the populace which could be pleased 

 with compositions so polished. 



Ireland abounded with orators good 

 and bad ; but her first race were giants. 

 Of this mighty race, Burke might be 

 considered first, and Grattan the last. 

 Between these stood many a glorious 

 name, resplendent with important public 

 services. It is not our's to call forth the 

 spirits of the mighty dead ; the two we 

 have named will serve to illustrate the 

 genius of their country. The brilliancy, 

 the splendid magnificence of Burke, the 

 grandeur and variety of his dazzling 

 imagery, the rushing torrent of his 

 thoughts, flowing and spreading into a 

 boundless amplitude of illustration. His 

 flight was with the eye and the wing of 

 the eagle of his own hills, and the plu- 

 mage of the bird of paradise. 



There is an evil spirit in the lower 

 classes of the people, and an intractable 

 obstinacy ; and there is often a want of 

 sufficient zeal for the task they have un- 

 dertaken, amongst those who would 

 moralise and improve them. That the 

 spirit we refer to was not originally evil, 

 may be discerned from this — that it is 

 accompanied, even in its fallen state, by 

 virtues of such high character, as never 

 consort with what is decidedly and na- 

 turally wicked — kindness, generosity, 

 good humour, fidelity, and goodness of 

 heart. Its original character is seen 

 also in those of the same race who pos- 

 sess the advantages of cultivation, and, 

 having been redeemed from the ruin 

 which had fallen upon their less fortu- 

 nate countrymen, escaped the fearful 

 perversion of their fine qualities. 



WOMEN. 



The female character, in all nations, is 

 a softened and improved representation 



of the male; it shews the virtues of the 

 people, even their courage without its 

 sanguinary 



