ject of the tragedy have unfortunately escaped my memory, neither do I recollect with exactness how much he had written, though I am inclined to believe that he had not completed the third act; I never heard whether he afterwards finished it. In this visit I remember his relating a strange Quixotic scheme he bad in contemplation of going to decypher the inscriptions on the written mountains, though he was altogether ignorant of Arabic, or the language in which they might be supposed to be written. The salary of 3001. per annum which had been left for the purpose was the temptation""

That his exertions in literature and medicine contributed at this time to his support, is evident from the following letter, addressed to the gentleman who had married his eldest sister.

TO

DANIEL HODSON, ESQ.

AT LISHOY, NEAR BALLYMAHON, IRELAND.

DEAR SIR,

IT may be four years since my last letters went to Ireland, and to you in particular, I received no answer; probably because you never wrote to

me.

me. My brother Charles, however, informs me of the fatigue you were at in soliciting a subscription to assist me, not only among my friends and relations, but acquaintance in general. Though my pride might feel some repugnance at being thus relieved, yet my gratitude can suffer no diminution. How much am I obliged to you, to them, for such generosity, or (why should not your virtues have the proper name) for such charity to me at that juncture. Sure I am born to ill fortune to be so much a debtor and unable to repay. But to say no more of this: too many professions of gratitude are often considered as indirect petitions for future favours; let me only add, that my not receiving that supply was the cause of my present establishment at London. You may easily imagine what difficulties I had to encounter, left as I was without friends, recommendations, money, or impudence; and that in a country where, being born an Irishman was sufficient to keep me unemployed. Many in such circumstances would have had recourse to the friar's cord or the suicide's halter. But with all my follies I had principle to resist the one, and resolution to combat the other.

I suppose you desire to know my present situation. As there is nothing in it, at which I should blush, or which mankind could censure, I see no reason for making it a secret; in short, by a very little practice as a physician, and a very little reputation as a poet, I make a shift to live. Nothing is more apt to introduce us to the gates of the Muses than poverty ;

verty; but it were well if they only left us at the door; the mischief is, they sometimes choose to give us their compauy at the entertainment, and want, instead of being gentleman usher, often turns master of the ceremonies. Thus, upon hearing I write, no doubt you imagine I starve; and the name of an author naturally reminds you of a garret. In this particular I do not think proper to undeceive my friends. But whether I eat or starve; live in a first floor or four pair of stairs high; I still remember them with ardour, nay my very country comes in for a share of my affection. Unaccountable fondness for country, this Maladie du Päis, as the French call it! Unaccountable that he should still have an affection for a place, who never received when in it above common civility; who never brought any thing out of it except his brogue and his blunders. Surely my affection is equally ridiculous with the Scotchman's, who refused to be cured of the itch, because it made him unco'thoughtful of his wife and bonny Inverary. But now to be serious, let me ask myself what gives me a wish to see Ireland again? The country is a fine one perhaps? No. There are good company in Ireland? No.-The conversation there is generally made up of a smutty toast, or a bawdy song. The vivacity supported by some humble cousin, who has just folly enough to earn his dinner. Then perhaps there's more wit and learning among the Irish? Oh, lord! no!--There has been more money spent in the encouragement of

--

the

the Podareen mare there one season, than given in rewards to learned men since the times of Usher. All their productions in learning amount to perhaps a translation, or a few tracts in divinity; and all their productions in wit to just nothing at all. Why the plague then so fond of Ireland! Then all at once, because you my dear friend, and a few more, who are exceptions to the general picture, have a residence there. This it is that gives me all the pangs I feel in separation. I confess I carry this spirit sometimes to the souring the pleasures I at present possess. If I go to the opera where Signora Columba pours out all the mazes of melody; I sit and sigh for Lishoy fireside, and Johnny Armstrong's Last Good Night from Peggy Golden. If I climb Flamstead hill, than where nature never exhibited a more magnificent prospect; I confess it fine, but then I had rather be placed on the little mount before Lishoy gate, and there take in, to me, the most pleasing horizon in nature. Before Charles came hither, my thoughts sometimes found refuge from severer studies among my friends in Ireland. I fancied strange revolutions at home, but I find it was the rapidity of my own motion, that gave an imaginary one to objects really at rest. No alterations there. Some friends, he tells me, are still lean but very rich: others very fat, but still very poor. Nay all the news I hear from you, is that you sally out in visits among the neighbours, and sometimes make a migration

from

from the blue bed to the brown. I could from my heart wish that you, and she, and Lishoy, and Ballymahon, and all of you would fairly make a migration into Middlesex: though upon second thoughts this might be attended with a few inconveniences: therefore, as the mountain will not come to Mahomet, why Mahomet shall go to the mountain: or to speak plain English, as you cannot conveniently pay me a visit, if next summer I can contrive to be absent six weeks from London, I shall spend three of them among my friends in Ireland. But first believe me, my design is purely to visit, and neither to cut a figure nor levy contributions, neither to excite envy nor solicit favour: in fact my circumstances are adapted to neither. I am too poor to be gazed at, and too rich to need assistance.

You see, dear Dan, how long I have been talking about myself; but attribute my vanity to my affection as every man is fond of himself, and I consider you as a second self, I imagine you will consequently be pleased with these instances of egotism.

[Some mention of private family affairs is here omitted.]

My dear Sir, these things give me real uneasiness and I could wish to redress them. But at present there is hardly a kingdom in Europe, in which I am not a debtor. I have already discharged my most threatening and pressing demands, for we must be

just