Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1872-05-30
lIRELASD,s POET.
From The s.. Louis Republieap.J ~

change in popular taste and sentiment
Of more than ordinary significance
4 This change, too, is Of comparatively
recent date. A hundred years ago the
man who deliberately chose the pursuit
of letters as means of winning bread
and fame, was considered by the vast
majority Of his fellows as not far re,
moved from fool or madman. The
stigma of Grub street-Twhich we owe
mainly to the caustic and uugenerous
pen of Alexander Pope-still clung to
authors like an irrevecable curse; and
in the opinion of the polite world, they
were a curious class of beings, who
might always be pitied, occasionally
patronized, but only at rare intervals re-
ceived into the best society" Jona-
than Swift, the most Independent as we'll
as the ablest writer of the brilliant day
in which he lived, not merely recognized
the fact we have stated, but bent his
proud spirit to the yoke in a manner
which almost excites our contempt.
Certainly the letter which he wrote
Sir William Temple goes to depth
of personal humiliation inconsistent
with genuine manhood; for though
the poor amaRuensis was asmuch above
the minister in brain-power as the heav-
ems are above the earth, and knew that
he was, yet he crawls to the feet of his
master, licks his hand like whipped
spaniel, and begs permission TO feed
upon the crumbs that fell from the boun-
teous table at Moor Park. Scattered
through the Journal to Stella" we find
frequent traces of the same feeling.
Swift, great as he was, and egotistical as
he was, understood that his craft was
under ban, and that the feeblest sprig
of nobility who fawned and hattered in
the royal presence chamber held a
higher, and in a worldly point of view,
more enviable rank than the intellectual
giant who framed the Tale of the
Tub" and the Drapier Letters" Soin
the pages where he poured out whatever
he had to the woman he loved, he con-
tinually alludes to the duke of this, and
my lord Of that, and boasts of atten-
tions from aristocratic associates as
though they were the chiefest ornaments
of his reputation-the choicest blessings
of his life. The bow of q titled ass was
of more consequence to him than the
heartiest praise from social equal, and
however much he might sneer and laugh
at his noble friends in private, he seldom
failed to offer them profound obeissance
in public. t,r
What was true of Swift was also true
of all other writer's who figured in Queen
Anne reign, and they may be said to
have transmitted the tradition of their
own inferiority to later generations. Not
until about the beginning Of the present
century was this incubus wholly thrown
of, and literature recognized at its real
value. The splendid constellation OF
genius represented by Byron, Scott,
Moore, Shelley and their companions,
heralded the dawn Of new era-an era
which grows brighter and brighter, and
is never destined to wither in eclipse.
When Victoria raises Macaulay to the
peerage. the people of two hemispheres
accept the act, not as supreme favor
to the recipient, but simply as proper
recognition of one whose name must en-
dure as long as language lasts;
and When Dickens dies, the loss sends a
shock throughout Christendom tenfold
greater than il Victoria herself had
slipped from the throne to the coffin
Yes, the sun of letters has emerged
from the dark clouds which gathered
around its dawn, and is climbing steadily
toward the zenith and on whatever brow
its glories fall, mankind is ready to
wreathe the laurel of posthumous re-
nown.
These birthday commemorations are
peculiarly graceful and appropriate, be-
cause they are the spontaneous ex-
pressions of that popular heart to which
every author, worthy to rank as such,
appeals. The grass may not grow
greener above the graves of Shakespeare
and Burns, Scott and Moore, because
their natal days are remembered with
fitting ceremonial; but surely if those
who have crossed the river are cognizant
of what is transpiring on this bank and
shoal of time, such honors as those
which will be paid tonight at Mercantile
Library hall must waken a throb OF
grateful joy in the bosoms of the immor-
tails.
Thomas Moore-whem Byron calls
"the poet of all circles and the idol of
his own was the son of small
tradesman (who, through the influence
of Lord MORA, afterward became bar
rack master in the army and born i'm
Aungier street, Dublin, May %, l779
At an early age he was placed in the
same school which Brinsley Sheridan
had previously attended, aid it is said
began verse scribbling when scarcelyo out
Of short clothes. In his thirteenth year
he was a regular poetical contributor to
the Anthologia, Dublin magazine, and
his mind seems to have dropped at once
into that groove which was destined to
bring him worldwide celebrity. Coupled
with his poetic inclination, was decided
talent for singing and acting, which made
him exceedingly popular with the gay
population of the Irish capital while at
home-to use his own Words o most
amiable father, and mother such Rs in
heart and head has rarely been equalled,
furnished him with that purest stimulus
TO exertion-the desire to please those
whom we at once most love and re-
spect. His parents we're Roman Cath
olies-a class then depressed by IN
just penal enactments-but Parliament
having, in 1898, opened Dublin Univer-
sity to all sects, young Moore entered
that institution the same year, where he
appears to have remained until lI9S or
lf99. He distinguished himself con-
siderably by bis classical requirements,
but more particularly by his literary
eforts-the "Odes Of Anacreon being
the fruit Of bis leisure hours at the uni
versity. With the manuscript Of this
work in his pocket, Moore, when nine
teen years Of age, proceeded to London
aud commenced the study Of law at the
Middle Temple. His book appeared in
1900, dedicated to the Prince of Wales,
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