of his country was the cloud that intercepted the sunshine of court-favour.  This is so far well.  Mr. Moore vindicates his own dignity; but the sense of intrinsic worth, of wide-spread fame, and of the intimacy of the great makes him perhaps a little too fastidious and exigeant as to the pretensions of others.  He has been so long accustomed to the society of Whig Lords, and so enchanted by the smile of beauty and fashion, that he really fancies himself one of the set, to which he is admitted on sufferance, and tries very unnecessarily to keep others out of it.  He talks familiarly of works that are or are not read “in our circle;” and seated smiling and at his ease in a coronet-coach, enlivening the owner by his brisk sallies and Attic conceits, is shocked, as he passes, to see a Peer of the realm shake hands with a poet.  There is a little indulgence of spleen and envy, a little servility and pandering to aristocratic pride in this proceeding.  Is Mr. Moore bound to advise a Noble Poet to get as fast as possible out of a certain publication, lest he should not be able to give an account at Holland or at Lansdown House, how his friend Lord B——­had associated himself with his friend L. H——?  Is he afraid that the “Spirit of Monarchy” will eclipse the “Fables for the Holy Alliance” in virulence and plain speaking?  Or are the members of the “Fudge Family” to secure a monopoly for the abuse of the Bourbons and the doctrine of Divine Right?  Because he is genteel and sarcastic, may not others be paradoxical and argumentative?  Or must no one bark at a Minister or General, unless they have been first dandled, like a little French pug-dog, in the lap of a lady of quality?  Does Mr. Moore insist on the double claim of birth and genius as a title to respectability in all advocates of the popular side—­but himself?  Or is he anxious to keep the pretensions of his patrician and plebeian friends quite separate, so as to be himself the only point of union, a sort of double meaning, between the two?  It is idle to think of setting bounds to the weakness and illusions of self-love as long as it is confined to a man’s own breast; but it ought not to be made a plea for holding back the powerful hand that is stretched out to save another struggling with the tide of popular prejudice, who has suffered shipwreck of health, fame and fortune in a common cause, and who has deserved the aid and the good wishes of all who are (on principle) embarked in the same cause by equal zeal and honesty, if not by equal talents to support and to adorn it!

We shall conclude the present article with a short notice of an individual who, in the cast of his mind and in political principle, bears no very remote resemblance to the patriot and wit just spoken of, and on whose merits we should descant at greater length, but that personal intimacy might be supposed to render us partial.  It is well when personal intimacy produces this effect; and when the light, that dazzled us at a distance,