The fact is, that nothing has ever yet been written on the subject of human manners, which has not been applied personally, and caused offence. But there are some persons so morbidly sensitive, that they seldom fail to give evidence of irascibility upon the slightest attack of censure, or the most gentle and modest offer of advice and information. They are sure to be offended at the discovery of a fault or folly, and the greater their pride, the stronger and more acrimonious will be their resentment.

"The Rambler," who dissects so admirably the workings of the human heart, comes here to our aid— "It is by no means," says he, "necessary to imagine, that he who is offended at advice was ignorant of the fault, and resents the admonition as a false charge; for perhaps it is most natural to be enraged when there is the strongest conviction of our guilt. While we can easily defend our character, we are no more disturbed at an accusation than we are alarmed by an enemy whom we are sure to conquer; and whose attack, therefore, will bring us honour without danger. But when a man feels the reprehension of another, seconded by his own heart, he is easily heated into resentment and revenge; either because he hoped that the fault, of which he was conscious, had escaped the notice of others, or that they had looked upon it with tenderness and extenuation, and excused it for the sake of his other virtues; or had considered him too wise to need advice, or too delicate to be shocked with reproach; or because we cannot feel without pain those reflections roused which we have been endeavouring to lay asleep; and when pain has produced anger, who would not willingly

A

believe that it ought to be discharged on others rather than on himself? * * * * As men frequently fill their imagination with trifling pursuits, and please themselves most with things of small importance, I have often known very severe and lasting malevolence excited by unlucky censures, which would have fallen without any effect, had they not happened to wound a part remarkably tender. Gustulus, who valued himself upon the nicety of his palate, disinherited his eldest son for telling him that the wine, which he was then commending, was the same which he had sent away the day before," not fit to be drunk."

With these premises, I shall take this opportunity of saying a few words concerning a little book, which it was my good or bad fortune to introduce to the public a few weeks ago, under the title of "Euphranor, or Clergy and Laity." In this work it fell within my line of argument to notice certain characters, such as country gentlemen devoted to fox-hunting; and offence, I am told, has been taken at the application of a line in which the amiable Cowper described them, years ago, as

"The reeking, roaring heroes of the chase."

I confess I could not have thought that they were so sensitive; and had imagined that persons of their habits would have been blunted to the nicer and finer perceptions. I had even given myself credit for dealing so gently with those gentlemen, and not adding,

And though the fox he follows may be tam'd,

A mere fox-follower never is reclaim'd.

I only beg the various Clubs to read the entire passage in

Cowper's poem, called "Conversation," and say if I have not been lenient to them, rather than the reverse.

I presume it will be granted, that some country-gentlemen, fond of "these pleasures of the field," are, at the same time, addicted, in common with this pursuit, to "employments of even a more questionable character," and as such, are to be found scattered here and there,

every where throughout Ireland. That such persons should be "engrossed by land," and have "their talk of oxen," and, on all points that evidence the polished and intellectual gentleman, "be very dull," I never dreamed of imputing as a fault: at the very worst, it is surely only their misfortune. I uttered some remarks also on the non-residence of the clergy: now, this is a point on which I feel quite satisfied as to what I have already written. I have read over the offending passage carefully, and do not see anything in it which I could wish to alter. I made, as I conceived, proper exceptions, allowing for reasonable and just cases of non-residence. It rests altogether with the absentee's conscience whether he be justly included in these exemptions or not.

It came again within my argument, and I certainly did not conceive myself called in any degree to swerve from it, to notice a class of a nondescript character, which I designated as "Clerical Farmers." I do not think it possible for any one to write too strongly on such a point, and I am sure that, if the sense of the Irish clergy were taken, they would agree with me in thinking that I had fallen even short in my reprehension. That any one who had taken the solemn vows of dedicating himself to the ministry, and pursuits con

nected therewith, should throw them off, and, preserving the clerical character but in name and garb, and possibly, too, in the receipt of income, should engage in large agricultural pursuits, is a handle which, I hesitate not to maintain, should not be presented in these times, particularly, to the enemies of the Church. We may congratulate ourselves, however, that the Irish church is gradually clearing itself of any participation in these blots, and thinning itself of such offending brethren. They are still, however, to be found up and down throughout Ireland, and these remarks refer to the class, and not to any individual member. If any individual should take them wholly to himself, as if he were the only person in the world to whom they were possibly applicable, I shall only beg him to read over again, and reflect upon, the weighty sentences from Dr. Johnson's Essay, with which I have headed these observations.

There may be other topics in that little work containing truths of an unpalatable nature, but they do not occur to my mind at present; but I should hope I have said enough to satisfy harmless young men, and others who might be disposed to be angry, and to imagine themselves aggrieved by matters, which, in all probability, they do not well comprehend.

KILMOKEA RECTORY,

23rd March, 1850.

LEISURE HOURS,

ETC.

CHAPTER I.

LITERARY HINTS.

OUR first of epic poets was upwards of fifty years of age when he commenced, in earnest, the grand effort of his genius, the work which "has entwined his name in his land's language.”

Vague visions of an epic poem appear to have flitted around his imagination for years before, and among others, the subject of Prince Arthur (which appears to have had a charm for many of our poets, and has fallen into ignobler hands) captivated for a while his youthful mind. This story was happily abandoned; but it was not till after the lapse of many years that he fixed, at last, upon his immortal theme. Milton describes the

working of his own mind most beautifully in the opening verses of the ninth book of Paradise Lost. Having chosen his glorious "argument," his anxiety is, to do it justice in his mode of treating it—

"If answerable style I can obtain

Of my celestial patroness, who deigns

Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,

And dictates to me, slumb'ring, or inspires

Easy my unpremeditated verse:

Since first this subject for heroic song,

Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late.”

The indecision about the choice of a subject felt by Milton has been experienced by many of our best