‘That is a question I am scarcely prepared to answer; but I will give you my own opinion, which may after all be nearly the sense of the army on the subject. I admit that he has many of the qualities which constitute a great general, such as valour, prudence, discrimination, &c., but there is one which, in my opinion, he fell short of.’
‘Indeed!’ said Mrs M’Carthy, ‘what is it?’
‘He had not the art of gaining the men’s affections,—he never identified himself with his army, and being either above or below human sympathy, he was the same cold, stern individual when they performed feats of valour as when they committed faults. In short, he was a being removed from all our associations, who might be admired at a distance, feared or respected on the spot; but never loved.’
‘You seem determined to put me out of conceit with my countrymen,’ said Mary; ‘I need not speak of Moore, our great national poet, you will have some drawback on his fame also.’
‘He has been accused,’ said Mrs M’Carthy, ‘of loose and voluptuous sentiment. I can say nothing of the minor poems, said to be his, for I never read them; but in reading his Lalla Rookh, and his Irish Melodies, I have caught a portion of the inspiration and enthusiasm which he must have possessed when writing them.’
‘His own apology for his venal errors,’ said Mary, ‘who can withstand!’
Then blame not the bard if in pleasure’s soft dream,
He should try to forget what he never can heal:
Oh! give but a hope—let a vista but gleam
Through the gloom of his country, and mark how he’ll feel!