stible drollery of Samuel Lover? Nor can I omit
remarking, that amidst the array of great talents to which I allude,
the genius of our female writers bore off, by the free award of public
opinion, some of the brightest wreaths of Irish literature. It would be
difficult indeed, in any country, to name three women who have done
more in setting right the character of Ireland and her people, whilst
exhibiting at the same time the manifestations of high genius, than Miss
Edgeworth, Lady Morgan, and Mrs. Hall. About the female creations ol
the last-named lady, especially, there is a touching charm, blending
the graceful and the pensive, which reminds us of a very general but
peculiar style of Irish beauty, where the lineaments of the face combine
at once both the melancholy and the mirthful in such a manner, that
their harmony constitutes the unchangeable but ever-varying tenderness
of the expression.

That national works like these, at once so healthful and so true,
produced by those who knew the country, and exhibiting Irishmen not
as the blundering buffoons of the English stage, but as men capable
of thinking clearly and feeling deeply--that such works, I say, should
enable a generous people, as the English undoubtedly are, to divest
themselves of the prejudices which they had so long entertained against
us, is both natural and gratifying. Those who achieved this great
object, or aided in achieving it, have unquestionably rendered services
of a most important nature to both the countries, as well as to
literature in general.

Yet, whilst the highly gifted individuals whom I have named succeeded
in making their countrymen respected, there was one circumstance which,
nothwithstanding every exhibition of their genius and love of country,
still remained as a reproach against our character as a nation.
For nearly a century we were completely at the mercy of our British
neighbors, who probably amused themselves at our expense with the
greater license, and a more assured sense of impunity, inasmuch as
they knew that we were utterly destitute of a national literature.
Unfortunately the fact could not be disputed. For the last half century,
to come down as far as we can, Ireland, to use a plain metaphor, instead
of producing her native intellect for home consumption, was forced to
subsist upon the scanty supplies which could be procured from the sister
kingdom. This was a reproach which added great strength to the general
prejudi