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Castle Waller, in the county of Tipperary, he is an Irishman in all those characteristics of the Irish genius which have made Irish ballad poetry the thing of beauty and the joy for ever that it is.

John Francis Waller was born in the year 1810. Having entered Trinity College at the age of sixteen, and obtained honours in his undergraduate course, he graduated in 1831, In 1833 he was called to the Irish Bar, and joined the Leinster circuit. While following his profession diligently, he nevertheless devoted himself with ardour to the cultivation of letters, for which, indeed, he had exhibited a strong proclivity from an early age. We have heard him say, that he appeared in print as an author in his fourteenth year, and made metrical translations both of Latin and Greek poets. While studying in London, in the chambers of the eminent special pleader, Mr. Thomas Chitty, he contributed to periodical literature there. It was in January, 1833, that a few distinguished literary Irishmen launched THE DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE, which was destined to a career so distinguished and long-lived. Immediately on his return to Dublin, Waller at once joined the corps, contributing his first article to it in its third number. From that period he has, with rare intervals, been a constant and prolific writer in its pages, in almost every department-original compositions in prose and poetry; translations from the French, Italian, German, and Spanish; criticism, biography, and essays. A series of papers by him, under the pseudonym of Jonathan Freke Slingsby, somewhat after the manner, yet in many ways totally diverse from, the "Noetes " of Wilson, attracted great notice, and became highly popular. Sentimental, pathetic, and humorous, they were full of classicality, original thought, and erudition, as well as highly picturesque, blending the charms of polished prose with sparkling poetry. A few of these were subsequently collected in a small volume, entitled "The Slingsby Papers." Waller's reputation thus gradually became established as a man of high literary mark, so that after Charles Lever had retired from the editorship of THE DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE, its literary management was committed to the care of Waller. During the many years of his editorship the periodical held a place second to none in the empire. When the property in it passed to the late distinguished writer, Joseph le Fanu, that gentleman, of course, became its editor, but Waller still continued to be a contributor to its pages.

In 1852 his university conferred on him the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws, in recognition of his "eminent literary attainments." He was an active and distinguished member of the Royal Dublin Society, and for many years filled the office of its honorary secretary. As a member of the Royal Irish Academy, he sat for many years on its Council as one of the representatives of "Polite Literature," and in 1864 was made one of its vice-presidents. In 1867 he was appointed to the office of clerk in the Rolls Court. This post enabled him to devote much of his time to the cultivation of letters, as that of the Clerkship of the Court of Sessions gave literary leisure to Scott. Nor should we omit to record that in 1872 he originated, and, in conjunction with a few men of congenial tastes, founded "The Goldsmith Club," of which he has ever since been the president. —a society which now includes amongst its members the best representatives of the genius and learning of the country.

It is to be regretted that so few of Waller's writings, scattered through

periodicals in England and Ireland, have been preserved in a collected form. "Ravenscroft Hall, and other Poems" appeared in 1852, and reached a second edition; "The Dead Bridal: A Tale of Venice," was published in a popular form, and is now, we believe, out of print; "Occasional Odes,"

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1861; "The Revelations of Peter Browne" in 1870, and "Festival Tales in 1873. Besides these, he has edited and largely contributed to "The Imperial Dictionary of Universal Biography," "Selected Works of Oliver Goldsmith; with a Life," "Illustrated Edition of Moore; with a Life," " "Gulliver's Travels; with Notes, and Life of Swift," and "Pictures from English Literature."

It is as a lyrical poet that Waller has achieved his highest and most permanent reputation. From an early period of his literary career his songs attracted attention. They have associated him with the Robinsons, Sir Robert P. Stewart, Professor of Music in the University of Dublin, Balfe, Macfarren, Oberthier, Osborne, Abt, and others, who have set to music his ballads, songs, glees, cantatas, odes, and operettas; and several of his lyrics have been translated into French, German, and Welsh.

The first occasion upon which Waller and Stewart worked together is worthy of being recorded, as exhibiting the extraordinary rapidity and facility with which each composed. Conversing with a few friends on the subject of madrigals, Waller gave his ideas of what such a species of writing should be, and taking a piece of paper and a pencil, offered at the moment to illustrate his views. Two stanzas of eight lines each were forthwith written by him and handed to Stewart, who, taking a sheet of music-paper, applied himself to the musical rendering of the poem. When finished, four voices were mustered, and they sang "My Ladye Faire," which, with two verses subsequently added, became, and still is, one of the favourite stock glees in the musical societies of Dublin. One of the gentlemen present assures us that he privately looked at his watch when Waller commenced, and again when Stewart finished, and that the whole time was under half an hour.

When the citizens of Cork spiritedly determined, in 1852, to get up a "National Exhibition of Arts, Manufactures, and Materials," the idea occurred to Mr. John C. Deane, at the last moment, that it would be desirable to open it with a musical inauguration. Waller and Stewart were applied to. The words were given within twenty-four hours, and the fine and most effective music was composed with a marvellous celerity. The performance was an eminent success, and laid the foundation of the reputation of Stewart, which has since ripened to a high and expanded fame.

Other similar joint compositions followed-the "Ode of the Bell," the same year, to commemorate the erection of the Campanile in Trinity College, Dublin; the ode performed at the installation of the Earl of Rosse as Chancellor of the University in 1863; the ode performed at the opening of the Royal Dublin Society's Exhibition in 1864, and others. These are works of high merit, and display felicity of expression, mastery of rhythm, and great breadth and boldness of conception.

No Irish poet since Moore has written so many songs as Waller. The mantle of Moore has descended upon him. Like that great master of melody, he possesses a fine and delicate rhythmical intuition. His verses run smooth and sparkling as a summer stream, so that it has been felicitously said, "they sing themselves to music." In feeling, as well as in expression, they are infinitely diversified-pathetic, as his "Voices of the Dead," his

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"Cushla mo chree," his "Brink of the White Rocks," and his "Welcome as flowers in May." A rich vein of humour is blent with tenderness in "Dance light, for my heart it lies under your feet, love," "The first Cuckoo in Spring," and "The Spinning-wheel Song." His master-piece in this department is "The Song of the Glass." Lord Houghton has pronounced this to be one of the best drinking-songs of the age. It is one of the best ever composed, and will perpetuate the memory of Waller when nine-tenths of the more ambitious poetry of the age has perished.

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One more quotation, and we must arrest the all but invincible tendency to quote from the effusions of this true lyrical genius. It is in the same vein of fancy, and is scarcely, if at all, inferior to "The Song of the Glass."

Air. "St. Patrick's Day."

"The white and the orange, the blue and the green, boys,
We'll blend them together in concord to-night;
The orange, most sweet, amid green leaves is seen, boys,
The loveliest pansy is green and white.

The light of the day,

As it glides away,

Paints with orange the white clouds that float on the West;

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