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and Gray, to the former even as a prose writer, cannot be denied; but collectively he presents an impartial, perhaps an over-favorable estimate of each poet's distinctive merits. Viewed in comparison with the analogous publications of continental Europe, the work may not shrink from a parallel with those of La Harpe, Chénier, Ginguené, Tiraboschi, Feyjoo, Andres, Eichorne, Schlegel, and others; nor would the adjudged result be to its disadvantage. The style, too, is seldom chargeable with the defects of unracy or unidiomatic phraseology, commonly objected to Johnson's.

THE COURTS OF EUROPE IN THE LAST CENTURY.

TO THE EDITOR of the GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE.

Cork, January 1842.

MR. URBAN,-Although the article devoted by you, in your September Magazine, to the recent publication of Mr. Swinburne's Letters, or in the more ambitious assumption of the title, "The Courts of Europe at the Close of the last Century," together with the similar compliment paid it by the Quarterly Review, may appear sufficient to satisfy the general desire, if not to exhaust the subject, yet some incidents struck me as passed unnoticed, or uncorrected, which I consider not less entitled to development, nor more barren of interest, than those selected by your reviewer for illustration. In the hope that I may be supported by your readers in this opinion, and that a brief advertence to these omissions will not be unacceptable, I now take the liberty of addressing you, while I premise, that I spent a portion of the ante, and the whole of the post, revolutionary periods embraced in these letters, on the Continent, with some opportunities, too, of obtaining information on the occurring topics of their communications; and, trod

den though the field be, some gleanings worth gathering still remain, methinks, for collection.

Mr. Swinburne, it is manifest, was a complete gobemouche, who greedily caught, without weighing its probability or sifting its truth, every current report in those circles, where the talent of a good narrator was a first recommendation to society, and was best displayed by the pungent version, or epigrammatic turn, which wit or malignity could impart to the simplest story. Restricted in political conversation, for which Sir Robert Walpole, we are told, was wont to substitute the ribald discourse, now, thank heaven, banished alike from the fashionable and the moral board, convivial parties, in their petits soupers, those "noctes cœnæque Deorum," as the still surviving guests complacently describe them, emulously strove, not so much "to point a moral, as to adorn a tale," to quicken attention and enliven the arising subject by a stimulant infusion of fact or fiction, such as Chamfort, Rivarol, or Champcenets, the brilliant stars of the saloons of that day, were sure to introduce, with animating effect.

Those who, from personal recollection, may retrace the habits of society, some fifty years back, cannot forget how deeply impregnated with indecorous topics and language the conversations of convivial meetings generally were. I well remember, for I often witnessed, I may repeat, at their own or my father's table, the indulgence in those unseemly subjects of two eminent men, then most prominent in public life, Lord Clare and Mr. Curran, though, in most other respects, contrasted in character and feelings. Nor were they less addicted to profane swearing, more

particularly the Irish Chancellor, like his English contemporary Thurlow; a custom then likewise of general prevalence, apparently, as the French obtrude their filthy expressions, to give energy to their discourse, but much oftener, though, certainly, not in that sense applicable to Curran, to supply the dearth of language, or the pause of thought, like Homer's expletives, in completion of a phrase, or the constant interpellations of the Speaker, by our parliamentary orators. But the forms of decency are now, it is gratifying to add, seldom violated by these social anomalies. And, again, a spectacle of still more satisfactory contemplation is daily presented to our view, in the reformed habits of the humbler classes of this nation—an improvement, on an immeasurable scale, wrought by that wonderful regenerator of his country, my revered friend, Father Mathew, whom envy cannot assail, for it could find nothing to reprove or amend

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Che non trova l'invidia ove l'amende.”—(Orl. Fur.) "Esto perpetua," we may suppliantly say in respect of this genuine reformation, the achievement of a commanding mind, devoting its energies and exerting its influence-the resistless attraction of virtuein checking the wide-spread evil, which seemed beyond the ability of man to control. And yet, in the recent number of the Quarterly Review, (136,) a writer undertakes, in an elaborate article, to elucidate the condition of the "Peasantry of Ireland," while he overlooks, and passes in utter silence, this mighty conquest of morality, and its venerated and admirable author! As well might the historian of modern

England attempt to sink in oblivion the names and glorious work of Clarkson and Wilberforce, in association with whom, and in full parity of merit, the Apostle of Temperance-clarum et venerabile nomen !—must ever rank in the foremost class of the benefactors of his species. But the acknowledgment of obligation to an Irish priest--nay more-to a poor monk, (oh! how rich in the treasures of heaven!) would ill accord, I fear, with the spirit of the review, or the tenor of the article. It would be to expect praise or justice from the Southern United States to the great advocates of Negro emancipation. It may, however, happen, as I am still willing to infer from this extraordinary omission, that some time has elapsed since the article was prepared; for no prejudice could withstand the sublimity of the act, or withhold the homage due to its achiever. To me it is an exhaustless theme of admiration, as it must be to every eye-witness of the past and present state of our population.

The deteriorating source of our national character, the most apparently operative one, at least, for I wish not to introduce any allusion to concurring political causes, thus happily arrested, seems not to have been unknown to antiquity, whose great naturalist ascribes its origin to the vicious ingenuity of man-" Heu! mira vitiorum solertia, inventum est quemadmodum aqua, (in Irish, usquah, or whiskey,) quoque inebriaret." (Plinii, lib. xiv., cap. 29.) The noxious power and maleficent influence of idleness have of old obtained the authority of an adage; and drunkenness, surely, is not less the parent of evil, generative alike of individual and public degradation; but, not unacquainted, I may say, from early domesticated, and

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