"Most happy to be at home again." All his friends were alarmed at the title of the MSS. he brought over with him, "The Loves of the Angels." The Longmans announced it for New Year's Day, which fell on a Sunday, which made people ask if the poem was so very sacred, that nothing less than a Sunday would do for its publication? Moore does not seem to have been much struck with Lamb at first meeting. "Charles Lamb," he says, "a clever fellow certainly; but full of villanous and abortive puns, which he miscarries every minute. cellent things, however, have come from him; and his friend Robinson mentioned to me not a bad one. On Robinson's receiving his first brief, he called upon Lamb to tell him of it. 'I suppose,' said Lamb, 'you addressed that line of Milton to it- Thou first best cause, least understood.'" Some ex In London or at Sloperton; it was still ever the same thing, running about from one noble residence to another, a perpetual flight after dinners and a rush to parties and theatres. A newspaper writer at Limerick reporting that the poet had been seen walking the streets leaning on the Marquis of Lansdowne's arm, reminded him of his own lines, howSooner or later, all have to grieve Who waste their morn's dew in the beams of the great, After all, he was only "little Tom" with these aristocrats whose society he so much courted, and who "tolerated" him for his genius, his wit, and, above all, his musical talents. In talking of a children's ball lately given by Lady Jersey, Lady Lansdowne said, "How little Tom would have shown off there!" Then again there are narratives of such frivolous and almost lamentable exhibitions as the following 66 :- My mother expressing a strong wish to see Lord Lansdowne, without the fuss of a visit from him, I engaged to manage it for her. Told him that he must let me show him to two people who considered me as the greatest man in the world, and him as the next, for being my friend. Very goodnaturedly allowed me to walk him past the windows, and wished to call upon them; but I thought it better thus." Forgot to mention that Casey, during my journey, mentioned to me a parody of his on those two lines in the "Veiled Prophet" He knew no more fear than one who dwells Beneath the tropics knows of icicles. The following is his parody, which I bless my stars that none of my critics were lively enough to hit upon, for it would have stuck by me : He knew no more of fear than one who dwells On my mentioning this to Corry, he told me of a remark made upon the Angels," by Kyle, the Provost, which I should have been equally sorry any of my critics had got hold of:-"I could not help figuring to myself," says Kyle, "all the while I was reading it, Tom, Jerry, and Logic on a lark from the sky." upon Talking of ghost-stories, Lord Lansdowne told of a party who were occupied in the same sort of conversation; and there was one tall palelooking woman of the party, who listened and said nothing; but one of the company turning to her and asking whether she did not believe there was such a thing as a ghost, she answered, "Si j'y crois? oui, et même je le suis," and instantly vanished. Not very good French Mira for a ghost. The following is better and from the same source. beau was answering Maury, and putting himself in a reasoning attitude, he said, "Je m'en vais renfermer M. Maury dans un cercle vicieux;" upon which Maury started up, and exclaimed, "Comment! veux tu m'embrasser?" One day Moore enters as follows, " discovered in Irving the extraordinary description of Paradise, in which he introduces an allusion to me; 6 Angels, not like those Three, sung by no holy mouth.' His own Paradise, however, almost as naughty a one as either I or Mahomet could invent."-" Went to the Literary Fund dinner, of which I was a steward. Surprised on finding so large a portion of its directors and visitors to be persons whose names I had never heard before; in short, the only downright literati among them were myself and old George Dyer, the poet, who used to take advantage of the people being earthed up to the chin by Dr. Graham, to go and read his verses to them. Lord Lansdowne in the chair, and Lord John Russell next to him." The death of Lord Byron, in 1824, entailed much trouble and annoyance on Moore, whose arrangements were of so complicated a character, as to leave the proceeding that ultimately followed-the destruction of the Byron MSS. -a subject of constant discussion. We are glad to extract Lord John Russell's able summary of the case in point. I have omitted in this place a long account of the destruction of Lord Byron's MS. Memoir of his Life. The reason for my doing so may be easily stated. Mr. Moore had consented, with too much ease and want of reflection, to become the depository of Lord Byron's Memoir, and had obtained from Mr. Murray 2000 guineas on the credit of this work. He speaks of this act of his, a few pages onward, as "the greatest error I had committed; in putting such a document out of my power." He afterwards endeavoured to repair this error by repaying the money to Mr. Murray, and securing the manuscript to be dealt with, as should be thought most advisable by himself in concert with the representatives of Lord Byron. He believed this purpose was secured by a clause which Mr. Luttrel had advised should be inserted in a new agreement with Mr. Murray, by which Mr. Moore was to have the power of redeeming the MS. for three months after Lord Byron's death. But neither Mr. Murray nor Mr. Turner, his solicitor, seem to have understood Mr. Moore's wish and intention in this respect. Mr. Murray, on his side, had confided the manuscript to Mr. Gifford, who, on perusal, declared it too gross for publication. This opinion had become known to Lord Byron's friends and relations. Hence, when the news of Lord Byron's unexpected death arrived, all parties, with the most honourable wishes and consistent views, were thrown into perplexity and apparent discord. Mr. Moore wished to redeem the manuscript, and submit it to Mrs. Leigh, Lord Byron's sister, to be destroyed or published with erasures and omissions. Sir John Hobhouse wished it to be immediately destroyed, and the representatives of Mrs. Leigh, expressed the same wish. Mr. Murray was willing at once to give up the manuscript on repayment of his 2000 guineas with interest. The result was, that after a very unpleasant scene at Mr. Murray's, the manuscript was destroyed by Mr. Wilmot Horton and Col. Doyle, as the representatives of Mrs. Leigh, with the full consent of Mr. Moore, who repaid to Mr. Murray the sum he had advanced, with the interest then due. After the whole had been burnt the agreement was found, and it appeared that Mr. Moore's interest in the MS. had entirely ceased on the death of Lord Byron, by which event the property became absolutely vested in Mr. Murray. The details of this scene have been recorded both by Mr. Moore and Lord Broughton, and perhaps by others. Lord Broughton having kindly permitted me to read his narrative, I can say, that the leading facts related by him and Mr. Moore agree. Both narratives retain marks of the irritation which the circumstances of the moment produced; but as they both (Mr. Moore and Sir John Hobhouse) desired to do what was most honourable to Lord Byron's memory, and as they lived in terms of friendship afterwards, I have omitted details which recal a painful scene, and would excite painful feelings. As to the manuscript itself, having read the greater part, if not the whole, I should say that three or four pages of it were too gross and indelicate for publication; that the rest, with few exceptions, contained little traces of Lord Byron's genius, and no interesting details of his life. His early youth in Greece, and his sensibility to the scenes around him, when resting on a rock in the swimming excursions he took from the Piræus, were strikingly described. But, on the whole, the world is no loser by the sacrifice made of the Memoirs of the great poet.-J. R. The part taken in this affair by Moore appears to have been alike creditable to his heart and his head. Wilmot Horton and Luttrel had been urging him to take the money from Murray; but Hobhouse (Lord Broughton), upon whose honesty of purpose Moore ever relied, as upon a staff, said, "Shall I tell you, Moore, fairly, what I would do if I were in your situation ?” "Out with it," I answered, eagerly, well knowing what was coming. "I would not take the money," he replied; and then added, "The fact is, if I wished to injure your character, my advice would be to accept it." This gave firmness to Moore's resolves. Lord John called upon me, full of Wilmot Horton, who had been working at him too on the subject; was of opinion that there existed no objection whatever to my taking the money. A long conversation; said he would think over what I had said against our next meeting. Went to Rogers's and found him and his sister equally inclined with the rest to consider my refusal of the money as too romantic a sacrifice. Recapitulated my reasons, much more strongly and eloquently than I could ever put them to paper. Saw they were both touched by them, though Rogers would not allow it; owned that he would not receive the money in such a case, but said that my having a wife and children made all the difference possible in the views he ought to take of it. This avowal, however, was enough for me. More mean things have been done in this world (as I told him) under the shelter of "wife and children," than under any other pretext that worldly-mindedness can resort to. He said, at last, smiling at me, "Well, your life may be a good poem, but it is a damned bad matter-of-fact." Moore says of Medwin's " Memoirs of Byron"-" To bring up a dead man thus to run a-muck among the living is a formidable thing. In old times, superstitious thieves used to employ a dead man's hand in committing robberies, and then called it la main de gloire. I rather think the captain of dragoons (Medwin) is making use of a hand of glory for not much better purposes." The same strange criticism might, however, just as well be applied to the publication of Moore's own "Diary." The greater part of the personages mentioned in it being still alive. We must finish with an extract or two anon Sir W. Scott. His reception of me most hearty; we had met but once before, so long ago as immediately after his publication of the "Lay of the Last Minstrel." After presenting me to Lady Scott and his daughter Anne (the Lockharts having, unluckily, just gone to Edinburgh), he and I started for a walk. Said how much he was delighted with Ireland; the fun of the common people. The postilion having run the pole against a corner of a wall and broken it down, crying out, "Well done, pole! didn't the pole do it elegantly, your honour ?" Pointing to the opposite bank, said it was believed still by some of the common people that the fairies danced in that spot; and as proof of it, mentioned a fellow having declared before him, in his judicial capacity, that having gone to pen his sheep about sunrise in a field two or three miles further down the river, he had seen little men and women under a hedge, beautifully dressed in green 66 Did and gold; "the Duke of Buccleugh in full dress was nothing to them." you, by virtue of your oath, believe them to be fairies?" "I dinna ken; they looked very like the gude people" (evidently believing them to be fairies). The fact was, however, that these fairies were puppets belonging to an itinerant showman, which some weavers, in a drunken frolic, had taken a fancy to and robbed him of, but, fearing the consequences when sober, had thrown them under a hedge, where this fellow saw them. In talking of the commonness of poetical talent just now, he said we were like Captain Bobadil, who had taught the fellows to [A blank left in the MS. The passage referred to is probably in Act 4, sc. 2 (Every Man in his Humour): "I would teach these nineteens the special rules, as your punta, your reverso, they could all play very near, or altogether as well, as myself."] . . . till When I remarked that every magazine now contained such poetry as would have made a reputation for a man some twenty or thirty years ago, he said (with much shrewd humour in his face)," Ecod, we were in the luck of it, to come before all this talent was at work." Agreed with me that it would be some time before a great literary reputation could be again called up, “unless (he added) something new could be struck out; everything that succeeded lately owing its success, in a great degree, to its novelty." I said how well calculated the way in which Scott had been brought up was to make a writer of poetry and romance, as it combined all that knowledge of rural life and rural legends which is to be gained by living among the peasantry and joining in their sports, with all the advantages which an aristocratic education gives. I said that the want of this manly training showed itself in my poetry, which would perhaps have had a far more vigorous character if it had not been for the sort of boudoir education I had received. (The only thing, indeed, that conduced to brace and invigorate my mind was the strong political feelings that were stirring around me when I was a boy, and in which I took a deep and most ardent interest.) Scott was good-natured enough to dissent from all this. His grandfather, he told me, had been, when a young man, very poor; and a shepherd, who had lived with the family, came and offered him the loan of (I believe all the money he had) thirty pounds, for the purpose of stocking a farm with sheep. The grandfather accepted it, and went to the fair, but instead of buying the sheep, he laid out the whole sum on a horse, much to the horror of the poor shepherd. Having got the horse, however, into good training and order, he appeared on him at a hunt, and showed him off in such style, that he immediately found a purchaser for him at twice the sum he cost him, and then, having paid the shepherd his 30%., he laid out the remainder in sheep, and prospered considerably. Pointed out to me the tower where he was born. His father and uncle went off to join the rebels in 1745, but were brought back; himself still a sort of Jacobite; has a feeling of horror at the very name of the Duke of Cumberland. Moore, notwithstanding his literary, poetic, and social successes, appears from his " Diary," to have no more escaped the shafts of calumny and depreciation than other public men. His connexion with the Whig party rendered him particularly obnoxious to the John Bull, in which he was designated as "this vile little fellow," "this filthy fellow;" scurrility that only recoils upon those who use it. A legacy of Dr. Parr, not for its intrinsic value, but for the testimony of a good and learned man, is the best tribute to Moore's character. "I give a ring to Thomas Moore, of Sloperton, Wilts, who stands high in my estimation for original genius, for his exquisite sensibility, for his independent spirit, and incorruptible integrity." As for the "Diary," there will be but one opinion of it among the unbiassed, that it is a chef d'œuvre of wit and sprightliness-full of life and light, fancy and feeling. May-VOL. XCVIII. NO. CCCLXXXIX. D THE ANNUAL PICTURE-SHOW IN TRAFALGAR-SQUARE. THE Royal Academy Exhibition for 1853 will be as remarkable for its omissions as for what it offers to public view. Whether the leading artists are becoming indifferent to the question of " exhibition," after the fashion which has of late years been set by Horace Vernet, Ary Scheffer, Paul Delaroche, and other notabilities in Paris; or whether they have simply been the victims of gloomy skies and insufficient time for the completion of their works, we will not take upon ourselves to determine, though we are inclined to believe that the first-named possible cause has quite as much to do with the matter as the last. In either case, we are sorry to have to record the fact: for the sake of the public, and for the sake, also, of the artistical credit of the Academy. From the accustomed list of exhibitors, the names, this year, are wanting of Mulready, Maclise, Frith, Leslie, Frost, and Egg. With respect to the three former, we have heard no especial reason given for nonappearance, and can only lament the absence of their works; but, in the case of the three latter, disappointment is added to our regret, since it is known that some of the finest productions of their pencils are still on their easels, requiring only a little more time to make them perfect. It has always hitherto been the custom, as most of our readers are probably aware, for a few days' "grace" to be given, after the pictures have been received within the walls of the Academy, in order that exhibitors might "paint up" to the general tone of the exhibition, or add to what had unavoidably been left unfinished. Last year, however, the fiat went forth from the authorities that the artist's studio must thenceforward be the point de départ of his works, and that no more heightening or lowering, or any other kind of cobbling or patching, would be allowed when once the pictures were fairly housed in Trafalgar-square. Exhibitors were fairly told to "leave all hope" of further retouching "behind;" they were not to paint the lily, nor add more perfume to the violet; they were, in fact, to take their chance for good or evil, as if they were going to be married, or commit themselves to any other equally hazardous speculation. The restrictive clause of the academical law has now come into operation, and if, on that account, there be any shortcomings, exhibitors have only themselves to blame for want of diligence, infirmity of memory, or imperfect calculation. In one instance, as we were grieved to hear, accidental illness prevented the completion of perhaps the most exquisite work which the genius of its author-fertile as it is-has ever yet given to the world. We allude to Mr. Leslie's "Rape of the Lock," a subject painted with so much delicacy and feeling, so broad in its general treatment, and at the same time so replete with artistic detail, as to merit an exhibition to itself. We confess that we look upon this picture as Mr. Leslie's capo d'opera, and may certainly add, without fear of contradiction, that there is no other living artist who could have executed it as he has done. The representation of female beauty is not Mr. Leslie's exclusive privilege, but he stands alone amongst modern artists for the truth of his portraiture of the high-bred woman, the "lady" par excellence. Who, for example, can have forgotten the lovely group that followed in the wedding-train |