they must be forgeries. Your neighbour Mr. Greatheed has seen and is a firm believer.

Mr. Erskine, the Lord Chief Baron, and a host of persons in and out of the Law, who have seen, have not a shadow of doubt on the subject. Burke and Malone are preparing their great guns, and I hear to be out in a few days. Steevens is likewise running a race with them, to have the first blow at me. With such an opposition, I need not say even truth may be injured for a time, although it must eventually rise superior as in most cases it has been known to do. In support of our discovery, a recent one has been made by Mr. Albany Wallis of Norfolk, amongst the deeds &c. of the Fetherstonhaugh family (to whom he has been agent near forty years) that corroborate as to the signature of Shakspeare and various other names on my deeds and papers in every respect. This is for us a very strong support indeed, and must weigh greatly with those who choose to be convinced. Situated as we are, I need not say (although I have many literary friends in town) that should you continue, on viewing these treasures, to be as convinced of their authenticity as when I had the pleasure of seeing you here, that your pen would prove to me a tower of strength. I shall esteem myself honoured by a line from you as soon as convenient, and remain, dear Sir, your obliged and obedient servant,

S. IRELAND.

CCLXXVI.

Moore had not made his bargain with the Messrs. Longman when the following letter was written; and it so happened that Lord Byron's Giaour' did not stand in the way of an offer of 3,000 guineas for 'Lalla Rookh.'

Byron derived more popularity from his Turkish tale than Moore did from his Persian narrative simply because it was treated with greater force and truth to nature. In justice to Moore's generous disposition it should be repeated that he lett two-thirds of this money in the hands of his publisher to be invested for the benefit of his parents. The reference to Bessy (Dyke) is a touching recognition of the claims of an excellent wife to the life-long affection of her husband-a state of blessedness by no means common among Moore's poetical companions.

Thomas Moore to Miss Godfrey.

Mayfield, Ashbourne: May, 1813.

I was a good deal relieved from my apprehensions about Lady Donegal by your letter, for though you mention colds, &c., I was afraid, from what Rogers said in his letter, that her old complaint had returned with more violence than usual, as he mentioned that she was obliged to consult Baillie, and I always couple his name with something serious and clinical. But indeed, Rogers himself, in the next line to this intelligence, mentioned having met her at Gloucester House the Saturday preceding; which (unless aqua regalis or royal wish-wash was among the doses prescribed by Baillie), I did not think looked like very serious indisposition. If wishing you both well and happy, and free from all the ills of this life, could in any way bring it about, I should be as good as-a physician for both your bodies and souls as you could find any. where. So you insist upon my taking my poem to Town with me? I will, if I can, you may be sure; but I confess I feel rather down-hearted about it. Never was anything more unlucky for me than Byron's invasion of this region, which when I entered it, was as yet untrodden, and whose charm consisted in the gloss and novelty of its features; but it will now be over-run with clumsy adventurers, and when I make my appearance, instead of being a leader as I looked to be, I must dwindle into a humble follower— a Byronian. This is disheartening, and I sometimes doubt whether I shall publish it at all; though at the same time, if I may trust my own judgment, I think I never wrote so well before. But (as King Arthur, in Tom Thumb, says) 'Time will tell,' and in the mean time, I am leading a life which but for these anxieties of fame, and a few ghosts of debt that sometimes haunt me, is as rationally happy as any man can ask for. You want to know something of our little girls. Barbara is stout and healthy, not at all pretty, but very sensible-looking, and is, of course, to be everything that's clever. The other little thing was very ill-treated by the nurse we left her with in that abominable Cheshire, but she is getting much better, and promises to be the prettier of the two. Bessy's heart is wrapped up in them, and the only pain they ever give me is the thought of the precariousness of such treasures, and the way I see that her life depends upon theirs. She is the same affectionate,

sensible, and unaffected creature as a mother that she is as a wife, and devotes every thought and moment to them and me. I pass the day in my study or in the fields; after dinner I read to Bessy for a couple of hours, and we are in this way, at present, going through Miss Edgeworth's works, and then after tea I go to my study again. We are not without the distractions of society, for this is a very gay place, and some of the distractions I could dispense with; but being far out of the regular road, I am as little interrupted as I could possibly expect in so very thick a neighbourhood. Thus you have a little panorama of me and mine, and I hope you will like it.

Good-bye. Ever yours,

T. MOORE.

CCLXXVII.

In this charming letter from his cottage retreat in Warwickshire, the Irish Burns, as Byron called the witty and lively Hibernian, tells his friend Rogers the progress he is making with the 'Peris.'

Thomas Moore to Samuel Rogers.

Mayfield: December 26, 1815.

My dear Rogers,-As this is about the time you said you should be on your return to London, from your bright course through that noble zodiac you've been moving in, I hasten to welcome you thither, not alas! with my hand, as I could wish,—that joy must not be for a few months longer,-but with my warmest congratulations on your safe and sound return from the Continent, and hearty thanks for your kind recollections of me-recollections, which I never want the outward and visible sign of letterwriting to assure me of, however delightful and welcome it may be, in addition to knowing that there's sweet music in the instrument, to hear a little of its melody now and then. This image will not stand your criticism, but you know its meaning, and that's enough-much more indeed than we Irish imagemakers can in general achieve. My desire to see you for yourself alone, is still more whetted by all I hear of the exquisite gleanings you have made on your tour. The Donegals say you have seen so much, seen everything so well, and described it all so picturesquely, that there is nothing like the treat of hearing you talk of your

travels-how I long for that treat! You are a happy fellow, my dear Rogers, I know no one more nourri des fleurs of life, no one who lives so much 'apis matinæ more' as yourself. The great regret of my future days (and I hope the greatest) will be my loss of the opportunity of seeing that glorious gallery, which like those 'domes of Shadukiam and Amberabad,' that Nourmahal saw in the 'gorgeous clouds of the west,' is now dispersed and gone for ever. It is a loss that never can be remedied; but still perhaps our sacrifices are among our pleasantest recollections, and I ought not to feel sorry that the time and money, which would have procured for myself this great gratification, have been employed in making other hearts happy, better learts than mine, and better happiness than that would have been. With respect to my Peris, thus stands the case, and remember that they are still to remain (where Peris best like to be) under the rose. I have nearly finished three tales, making, in all, about three thousand five hundred lines, but my plan is to have five tales, the stories of all which are arranged, and which I am determined to finish before I publish-no urgings nor wonderings nor tauntings shall induce me to lift the curtain till I have grouped these five subjects in the way I think best for variety and effect. I have already suffered enough by premature publication. I have formidable favourites to contend with, and must try to make up my deficiencies in dash and vigour by a greater degree, if possible, of versatility and polish. Now it will take, at the least, six thousand lines to complete this plan, i.e. between two and three thousand more than I have yet done. By May next I expect to have five thousand finished. This is the number for which the Longmans stipulated, and accordingly in May I mean to appear in London, and nominally deliver the work into their hands. It would be then too late (even if all were finished) to think of going to press; so that I shall thus enjoy the credit with the Literary Quidnunes of having completed my task together with the advantage of the whole summer before me to extend it to the length I purpose. Such is the statement of my thousands, &c., which I am afraid you will find as puzzling as a speech of Mr. Vansittart's; but it is now near twelve o'clock at night, which being an hour later than our cottage rules allow, I feel it impossible to be luminous any longer-in which tendency to eclipse, my candle sympathises most gloomily.

Your poor friend Psyche is by no means well. I was in hopes that our Irish trip would have benefited her; but her weakness and want of appetite continue most distressingly, and our cold habitation in the fields has now given her a violent cough, which if it does not soon get better, will alarm me exceedingly. I never love her so well as when she is ill, which is perhaps the best proof how really I love her. How do Byron and my Lady go on? there are strange rumours in the country about them.

Ever yours, my dear Rogers,

THOMAS MOORE.

CCLXXVIII.

Acting under the advice of his friends Moore remained three years on the other side of the Channel, pending the settlement of a lawsuit involving a claim for 6,000l. against him for sundry defalcations of a deputy whom he had left in charge of his Government post at Bermuda. The claim was satisfied with a cheque for 7401. from Lord Lansdowne, which Moore repaid out of the profits of the 'Loves of the Angels' and his 'Fables of the Holy Alliance.' Allusion is made in this letter to the precious gift of the 'Byron Memoirs.' They were consigned to the flames by Moore on Byron's death in deference to the wishes of the poet's sister and executor; and, indeed, on Moore's judgment of what he considered due to the memory of his illustrious friend. The celebrated biography of Byron was immediately undertaken for Messrs. Longman, and the copyright passed into the hands of Mr. John Murray.

Thomas Moore to Samuel Rogers.

Paris: December 23, 1819.

My dear Rogers,―There is but little use now in mentioning (though it is very true) that I began a letter to you from Rome; the first fragment of which is now before my eyes, and is as follows, 'One line from Rome is worth at least two of even yours from Venice; and it is lucky it should be so, as I have not at this moment time for much more.' There I stopped; and if you had ever travelled on the wing as I have done, flying about from morning till night, and from sight to sight, you would know how hard it is to find time to write, and you would forgive me. Taking for granted that you do forgive me, I hasten to write you some very valueless lines indeed, as they must be chiefly about myself. I found a letter here on my arrival, from the Longmans, telling me