*

of an inferior talent, Lord Mansfield lived to see his sublime conceptions, his profound reasonings, and all the ornaments of his masterly and finished eloquence, of his luminous and comprehensive understanding, shorn of their beams in the prosing accuracy of a Burrow.

For Murray, long enough his country's pride,
Is now no more than Tully or than Hyde.

There is a fragment written by Edmund Smith upon the works of Philips, and transcribed from the Bodleian manuscript, so much to my present purpose, that by breaking it up into parts, and accommodating it to the present object, I strengthen by its authority some of those observations which arise out of, and apply to, the present subject. He says, “it is altogether as equitable some account should be given of those who have distinguished themselves by their writings, as of those who are renowned for great actions; it is but reasonable they who contribute so much to

the immortality of others should have some share in it themselves (be they poets, orators,

or historians, it matters not); for no men," he adds," who respect themselves, will write their own panegyrics; and it is very hard they should go without reputation only because they the more deserve it."

The French are very just to eminent men in this point: not a learned man nor a poet can die, but all Europe must be acquainted with his accomplishments: they give praise and expect it in their turn: they commend their Patrus and Molieres, as well as their Condes and Turennes. Their Pellisons and Racines have their eulogies, as well as the prince whom they celebrate: and their poems, their mercuries, and orations, nay, their very gazettes, are filled with the praises of the learned.

I am satisfied had they a Curran among thein, and had known how to value him, had

they had one of his learning, his wit, but, above all, that particular turn of humour, that altogether new genius, he had been an example to their poets and orators, and a subject of their panegyrics; and, perhaps, set in competition with the ancients, to whom only he ought (if ought) to submit. As Johnson has adopted this illustration, I need not be ashamed to use it.

The Greeks certainly transmitted the memory of their illustrious men; and if and if any country which abounds so much in genius, and in letters, can be found more inattentive than another to this point, it is Ireland. Possibly not so much to the perfection of taste, to the cultivation of literature, or to all that enriched Athens with the arts, is she so much indebted for her immortality as to biography and history. No star ever appeared in that clear firmament, in that galaxy of heroes, statesmen, philosophers, orators and poets, sculptors and painters,

whose course in their heaven has not been marked from its first appearance to its setting; and if it went down in one horizon, its lustre was scarcely dimmed when it rose refulgent in another. There was a religious sentiment mixed in their admiration of excellence; and by their personifications, they peopled another world. Grossness of superstition, and refinement of taste, were extremes which with them met at a point in the circle: but whenever they exalted the works of genius, there was an ethic principle observable even in their wildest and most monstrous fancies: every perfection became embodied: they gave reality to abstraction. If they made Apollo a god, they held out for imitation his excellencies: and their Venus was an assemblage of the scattered ideas of their beau ideal. If sensuality debased the lovely form, yet genius created it. If, in the admiration of this productive power, (and that being our own,) I have fallen into error, I stand at the bar of public taste, not

as a solitary culprit: by my side are arraigned my country, and by my country let ine be tried.

Of a country so renowned for a continued succession of illustrious men, fewer monuments are preserved in Ireland than in any other nation. History has scarcely condescended to give them a place. The traits which have outlived its great actors are scanty, scattered, and meagre: the patriotism of literature which elevates the character of a people, has devoted little of its labours to this department. Had a portion of its exertions been thus directed, had the pen been more employed, we might have been earlier known to England; and perhaps been more respected: perhaps national jealousies and their causes might have been long since buried in the same tomb. Impressed by the benevolence of such reasoning, and influenced by the importance of a similar sentiment,