"The honour was entirely _his_ in being allowed to put his name 'to a work of such merit.' He then said that he hoped when he returned to town in the winter, we should have many opportunities of _enjoying each other's society_; that he was passionately fond of music and had long heard of my talents in that way. Is not all this very fine?" Very fine indeed. "But, my dearest mother, it has cost me a new coat. By-the-bye, I am still in my other tailor's debt." There one has in a nutshell the epitome of Moore's life, if the life were to be written from a hostile point of view. On the other hand, considered candidly, there is nothing more surprising than the small degree of harm done to Moore by his disproportionate success. For the son of a small Irish tradesman to find himself at the age of one-and-twenty flattered by the heir-apparent--at a time too when the heir-apparent was the all-conquering leader of society--was indeed a dazzling promotion. And from that day onwards, Moore never lost ground. He had through life his choice of whatever was most brilliant in social intercourse, and his choice showed a steadily growing sanity of judgment. Moreover, although his intimates were always people set on a pinnacle, he never for an instant wavered in his fidelity to the home where he had been brought up with so much love. The end of the letter which describes his introduction to the Prince deserves to be quoted for its natural warmth:-- "Do not let any one read this letter but yourselves; none but a father and a mother can bear such egotising vanity; but I know who I am writing to--that they are interested in what is said of me, and that they are too partial not to tolerate my speaking of myself."