The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1852-04-08

1 Sloou III the WlnuOW upon lne ptiIh, hllliit5,
| they might, the melancholy twilight half hour
proceeding dinner
''Mr. Moore :" cried the footman at the bot
tom of the staircase. I" Mr.. Moore =" cried the
! footman at the top. And with his glass at his
eye, stumbling over ottoman, between his
near-sightedness and the darkness of the room,
enters the poet. Half glance tells you that he
is at home on carpet. Sliding his little feet
up to Lady Blessington, (of whom he was lover
when she was sixteen, and to whom some of the
sweetest of his songs were written,1 he made
his compliments with gayety and an ease, COM
bined with kind of worshipping Difference, that
worthy of prime-mnister at the court of
love. With the gentlemen, all of whsm he knew,
he had the frank, merry manner of a confident
favourite, and he was greeted like one He went
from one to the other, straining back his head to
look up at them, (for singularly enough, every
gentleman in the room was six feet high and up
ward, and to every one he said something which,
from any one else, would have seemed peculiarly
felicitous but which fell from his lips as if his
breath was not more spontaneous.
Dinner was announced, the Russian handed
down 'miadi,' and 1 found myself seated op-
head, and the mirrors with which the superb
octsgonal room is pannelled rejecting every
tion. To see him only st table, you would think
him not snlsu man. His principal length is in
his body, and his head and shoulders are those
of o much larger person. Consequently he sits
tall, and with the peculiar srectness of head snd
neck, his diminutiveness disappears"
E'Aloorc's head is distinctly before me while
write, bnt shall find it difficult to describe. His
hair, which curled once all over it in long ten
drills, unlike any body elses in the world, and
which probably suggested his so5riguet of ''Bac-
chus," is diminished to few curls sprinkled
with gray, and scattered in single ring above
his ears His forehead is wrinkled, with the ex-
ception Of most prominent development of the
organ of gayety, which, singularly enough shines
with the lustre and smooth polish of pearl, and
is surrounded by semicircle of lines drawn
close about it, like entertainments against Time.
His eyes still sparkle like champagne bubble,
though the invader has drawn his pencillings
about the corners and there is kind of wintry
red of the tinge cf an October leaf, that seems
enamelled on his cheek, the eloquent record of
the claret his wit has frightened. His mouth
is the most characteristic feature of all. The
lip. are delicately cut, slight, and changeable as
an aspen; but there is set-up look about the
lower lip, determination Of the muscle to a
particular expression, and you fancy that you
can almost see wit sstride upon it. 1t is written
legibly with the imprint Of habitual success. 1t
is arch, confident and half difident, as if he
Il NIL ar viii
another bright gleam of fancy was breaking on
him. The slightly-tossed nose confirms the fun
of the expression, and altogether it is face that
sparkles, beams, radiates-everything but feels.
Fascinating beyond all men as ne is, Moore looks
like worldling.
This description may be supposed to have oc-
cupied the hour after Lady Blessington retired
from the table for with her vanished Moore's
excitement, and everybody else seemed to feel
that the light had gone out of the room. Her ex-
cessive beauty is less an inspiration than the
wondrous talent with which she draws from ev-
cry person around his peculiar excellence. Talk
ing better than anybody else, and narrating,
particularly, with graphic power that l never
saw exceled, this distinguished woman seems
striving only to make others unfold themselves;
and never had diffidence more apprehensive
and encouraging listener. But this is q subject
with which L should never be done.
We went up to coffee, and Moore frightened
again over his chasse-cGfe and went glittering on
with criticisms Grisi, the delicious songstress
now ravishing the world, whom he placed above
all but Pasta and whom he thought, with the
exception that her legs were too short, an in
comparable creature. This introduced music
very naturally and with a great deal of difficult
ty he was taken to the piano. My letter is get
ting long, and have time to describe his
singing. 1t is well known, however, that its
effect is only equalled by the beauty of his own
words and, for one, l could have taken him into
my heart with my delight. He makes no attempt
at music. 1t is a kind of admirable recitative,
in which every shade of thought is sylabled and
dwelt upon, and the sentiment of the song goes
through your blood, warming you to the very
eyelids and starting your tears, if you have soul
sense in you. l have heard of woman's fain-
ting at a song of Mrore's and if the burden of
it answered by chance to a secret in the bosom
of the listener L should think, from its compara-
tive effect upon so old stager myself, that
the heart would break with it.
We all sat around the piano, and after two or
three songs of Lady Blessington's choice, ne
rambled over the keys awhile, and sang ''When
first met thee with pathos that beggars