FOOTNOTES:
[1] Goldsmith makes his Chinese philosopher recount the name of Homer as the first poet and beggar among the ancients,—a blind man whose mouth was more frequently filled with verses than with bread.
[2] Shakespeare's line expired in his daughter's only daughter. Several of the descendants of Shakespeare's sister Joan, bearing a strong family likeness to the great poet, were, so late as 1852, living in and about Stratford, chiefly in a state of indigence.
[3] I have no doubt whatever that Homer is a mere concrete name for the rhapsodies of the Iliad. Of course there was a Homer, and twenty besides. I will engage to compile twelve books, with characters just as distinct and consistent as those of the Iliad, from the metrical ballads and other chronicles of England, about Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.—Coleridge.
[4] They must needs be men of lofty stature, whose shadows lengthen out to remote posterity.—Hazlitt.
[5] The Edinburgh "Review," once the most formidable of critical journals, took its motto from Publius Syrus:—
"Judex damnatur cum nocens absolvetur."
[6] The kindly human sympathy exhibited by Terence contributed largely to the popularity of his dramas. Whenever the often-quoted words, "I am a man; and I have an interest in everything that concerns humanity," were spoken upon the Roman stage, they were received with tumultuous applause by all classes.
[7] Crassus, a Roman triumvir, noted for his great wealth, who lived about a hundred years before the Christian Era, bought and sold slaves. These he educated, and taught the highest accomplishments of the day, sparing no labor or expense for the purpose. These educated slaves were then sold for large sums of money, so that any rich man could own his private poet and scholar. We are told by Plutarch that some of these slaves brought enormous prices into the treasury of Crassus.
[8] "What can they see in the longest kingly line in Europe," asks Sir Walter Scott, "save that it runs back to a successful soldier?"
[9] When approached by Madame de Tencin, who was finally eager to acknowledge so distinguished a son, he replied:—
"Je ne connais qu'une mère, c'est la vitrière."
[10] I knew a very wise man that believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.—Andrew Fletcher of Saltoun.
[11] Rachel made her debut at the Théâtre Français of Paris, in 1838. She came to this country in 1855, and performed in our Eastern cities. Three years later she died of consumption, near Cannes, in the South of France. When she was giving one of her readings before the Duke of Wellington, she perceived that all her audience were ignorant of the French language except the Duke himself. She went on, however, at her best, consoling herself that he at least understood her. After it was over, the Duke approached the great actress, and said: "Mademoiselle, our guests have had a great advantage over me; they have had the happiness of hearing you: I am as deaf as a post."
[12] Hazlitt, after remarking that Shakespeare's play of "All's Well that Ends Well" is taken from Boccaccio, adds: "The poet has dramatized the original novel with great skill and comic spirit, and has preserved all the beauty of character and sentiment without improving upon it, which is impossible." In the town of Certaldo, Tuscany, the house in which Boccaccio was born is shown to curious travellers. On the façade is an inscription speaking of the small house and a name which filled the world. "Before seven years of age," says Boccaccio, "when as yet I had met with no stories, was without a master, and hardly knew my letters, I had a natural talent for fiction, and produced some small tales."
[13] The author has stood upon the Bridge of Pinos, at Granada, from whence Columbus, discouraged and nearly heart-broken, was recalled by Isabella, after having been denied and dismissed, as he supposed, for the last time. The messenger of the relenting queen overtook the great pilot at the bridge, and conducted him back to the Hall of the Ambassadors, in the Alhambra.
[14] Disraeli tells us that the French ambassador to Spain, meeting Cervantes, congratulated him on the great success and reputation gained by his "Don Quixote;" whereupon the author whispered in his ear: "Had it not been for the Inquisition, I should have made my book much more entertaining." When Cervantes was a captive, and in prison at Algiers, he concerted a plan to free himself and his comrades. One of them traitorously betrayed the plot. They were all conveyed before the Dey of Algiers, who promised them their lives if they would betray the contriver of the plot. "I was that person," replied Cervantes; "save my companions, and let me perish." The Dey, struck with his noble confession, spared his life and permitted them all to be ransomed.
[15] "The Testimony of the Rocks," a noble and monumental work, by Hugh Miller, was published in 1857. The night following its completion its author shot himself through the heart. The overworked brain had given out, and all was chaos. He had sense enough left to write a few loving lines to his wife and children, and to say farewell.
[16] Falling into a state of morbid despondency and mental derangement, Tannahill committed suicide, by drowning, in his thirty-sixth year. James Hogg, the "Ettrick Shepherd," visited him a short time before his death. "Farewell," said Tannahill, as he grasped his brother poet's hand; "we shall never meet again!"
[17] One of Bunyan's biographers tells us his library consisted of two books,—the Bible and Fox's "Book of Martyrs." The latter work, in three volumes, is preserved in the Bedford town library, and contains Bunyan's name at the foot of the titlepages written by himself. Bunyan's crime, for which he was imprisoned twelve years, was teaching plain country people the knowledge of the Scriptures and the practice of virtue.
[18] Is it generally known that among the accomplishments of his after years was that of music and an instrumental performer? Leigh Hunt says that "Dr. Franklin offered to teach my mother the guitar, but she was too bashful to become his pupil. She regretted this afterwards, possibly from having missed so illustrious a master. Her first child, who died, was named after him."
In his Autobiography Franklin says: "At ten years of age I was called home to assist my father in his occupation, which was that of a soap-boiler and tallow-chandler, a business to which he had served no apprenticeship, but which he embraced on his arrival in New England, because he found his own, that of a dyer, in too little request. I was accordingly employed in cutting the wicks, filling the moulds," etc.
[19] His original name was John Horne, but being adopted and educated by William Tooke, he assumed his name. His humble birth being suspected by the proud striplings at Eton, when he was questioned as to his father he replied, "He was a Turkey merchant!" He was imprisoned for a year because he said that certain Americans were "murdered" by the king's troops at Lexington!
[20] Elliott, the Corn-Law Rhymer, was no pander to popular cries unless they were founded on reason. Being asked, "What is a communist?" he answered, "One who has yearnings for equal division of unequal earnings. Idler or bungler, he is willing to fork out his penny and pocket your shilling." Whipple says: "His poetry could hardly be written by a man who was not physically strong. You can hear the ring of his anvil, and see the sparks fly off from his furnace, as you read his verses."
[21] While these notes are writing, the city of Boston is erecting a bronze statue to the memory of Garrison, which is to adorn one of its finest and largest public parks,—a fitting tribute to the honored philanthropist.
[22] Hosea Biglow's words are specially applicable here:—
"An' yit I love th' unhighschooled way
Ol' farmers hed when I wuz younger;
Their talk wuz meatier, an' 'ould stay,
While book-froth seems to whet your hunger."
[23] His "Death on the Pale Horse," now in the Academy of Fine Arts at Philadelphia, is the most remarkable of his productions in this country. The Pennsylvania Hospital, in the same city, has also "Christ Healing the Sick," by West,—a truly noble conception, a vigorous work of art, and a generous gift from the author.
[24] His old employer, Moses Kimball, paid Ball twenty thousand dollars for the bronze group now standing in Park Square. It represents President Lincoln Freeing the Slaves. The purchaser presented it to the city of Boston.
[25] Hans Christian Andersen was one of the most gifted of modern authors. In his story entitled "Only a Fiddler," he has given many striking pictures from the experience of his own life. His best books are his fairy-tales, of which he has published several volumes.
[26] Any one who could place the tragedy of "Cleone" before that of "Venice Preserved," by Otway, in point of merit, must have been singularly prejudiced.
[27] Thackeray says: "He was lazy, kindly, uncommonly idle; rather slovenly, forever eating and saying good things. A little French abbé of a man, sleek, soft-handed, and soft-hearted." A Mr. Rich was the manager of the theatre in which Gay's "Beggar's Opera" was brought out. Its unprecedented success suggested the epigram that "it made Rich gay, and Gay rich."
[28] Among his liberal bequests were four hundred thousand dollars for the establishment of a public library in New York, to which his son, William B. Astor, subsequently added as much more. The Astor Library is therefore one of the best endowed institutions of the kind in America.
[29] Webster, when told that there was no room for new lawyers in a profession already overcrowded, answered, with the proud consciousness of genius and character, "There is always room at the top."
[30] Charles XII. put his whole soul into the cause of Sweden at the time when she was threatened with extinction by her enemies. He fought all Europe,—Danes, Russians, Poles, Germans,—and gave away a kingdom before he was twenty. At his coronation at Upsala, he snatched the crown from the hands of the archbishop and set it proudly on his head with his own hands.
[31] Whipple speaks of three characters "who seem to have been statesmen from the nursery." These were: "Octavius Cæsar, more successful in the arts of policy than even the great Julius, never guilty of youthful indiscretion, or, we are sorry to say, of youthful virtue; Maurice of Saxony, the preserver of the Reformed religion in Germany, in that memorable contest in which his youthful sagacity proved more than a match for the veteran craft of Charles V.; and the second William of Orange, the preserver of the liberties of Europe against the ambition of Louis XIV., who, as a child, may be said to have prattled treaties and lisped despatches."
[32] Nothing is so beneficial to a young author as the advice of a man whose judgment stands constitutionally at the freezing point.—Douglas Jerrold.
[33] The life of Jeanne d'Arc is like a legend in the midst of history.—Waller.
[34] After a couple of years Hall was restored to the full possession of his faculties, and for twenty years thereafter maintained his high reputation as a pulpit orator. He died in 1831.
[35] Fifty years after these poems were published, as we are informed by the publishers, there is a steady demand for from two to three hundred copies annually. Of how many American books, of a similar character, can this be said?
[36] I wrote things, I'm ashamed to say how soon. Part of an epic poem when about twelve. The scene of it lay at Rhodes and some of the neighboring islands; and the poem opened under water, with a description of the Court of Neptune.—Pope.
[37] Lord Brougham hoped to see the day when every man in the United Kingdom could read Bacon. "It would be much more to the purpose," said Cobbett, "if his lordship could use his influence to see that every man in the kingdom could eat bacon."
[38] On a certain occasion when Barry, the eminent painter, exhibited one of his admirable pictures, some one present doubted that it was his work, so remarkable was its excellence, and Barry at the time had not established any special fame. The artist was so affected by the remark that he burst into tears and retired. Burke, who was present, followed him to pacify his grief. The painter by chance quoted some passages of the newly published essay on the "Sublime and Beautiful." It appeared anonymously, and Burke took occasion to sneer at it, when Barry showed more feeling than he had done about his picture. He commended the essay in the most earnest language. Burke, smiling, acknowledged its authorship. "I could not afford to buy it," replied the astonished artist, "but I transcribed every line with my own hands;" at the same time pulling the manuscript from his pocket. This was commendation so sincere and appreciative, that the great author and the great painter clasped hands in mutual friendship.
[39] Menander, the poet, was Theophrastus's favorite pupil.
[40] Winckelmann, one of the most distinguished writers on classic antiquities and the fine arts, was the son of a shoemaker. He contrived, by submitting to all sorts of personal deprivation, to fit himself for college, and to go through with the studies there by teaching young and less advanced fellow-students, at the same time supporting a bedridden and helpless father.
[41] "People may be taken in once, who imagine that an author is greater in private life than other men," says Dr. Johnson.
[42] Such incongruities do exist: nothing is infallible; phrenologists even find the crania of some men to exhibit contradictory evidences. When Sydney Smith with some friends submitted his head to be examined by a phrenologist who did not know him, the party were amused at the examiner declaring him to be a great naturalist,—"never happier than when arranging his birds and fishes." "Sir," said the divine, "I don't know a fish from a bird!"
[43] "Men of genius," says Longfellow, "are often dull and inert in society; as the blazing meteor, when it descends to earth, is only a stone."
[44] Dryden said of himself: "My conversation is slow and dull, my humor saturnine and reserved. In short, I am none of these who endeavor to break jests in company, or make repartees." And yet at Will's Coffee-House, where the wits of the town met, his chair in winter was always in the warmest nook by the fire, and in summer was placed in the balcony. "To bow to him, and to hear his opinion of Racine's last tragedy or of Bossuet's treatise on epic poetry was thought a privilege. A pinch from his snuff-box was an honor sufficient to turn the head of a young enthusiast." Every one must remember how, in Scott's novel of the "Pirate," Claud Halcro is continually boasting of having obtained at least that honor from "Glorious John."
[45] Jonson was a bricklayer, like his father before him. "Let them blush not that have, but those who have not, a lawful calling," says Thomas Fuller as he records this fact; and goes on to say that "Jonson helped in the construction of Lincoln's Inn, with a trowel in his hand and a book in his pocket. Some gentlemen pitying that his parts should be buried under the rubbish of so mean a calling, did by their bounty manumise him freely to follow his own ingenious inclinations."
[46] Margaret Fuller by marriage became the Marchioness of Ossoli, and with her husband and child perished in the wreck of the brig "Elizabeth," from Leghorn, near Fire Island, in 1850. She was one of the most gifted literary women of America.
[47] Garrick was so popular that it was impossible for him to respond to half the social invitations which he received from the nobility. Even royalty itself honored him by private interviews, often listening to his readings in the domestic circle of the palace. Though he was always rewarded by the hearty approval of the king and queen, he said its effect upon him was like a "wet blanket" compared with the thunders of applause which he usually received in public.
[48] Sir Walter Scott greatly admired Maria Edgeworth's novels, complimenting "her wonderful power of vivifying all her persons and making them live as beings in your mind." Lord Jeffrey honored "their singular union of sober sense and inexhaustible invention." She died in 1849, in her eighty-second year.
[49] Southey was marvellously industrious, as over one hundred published volumes testify. Few men have been students so long and consecutively. He possessed one of the largest private libraries in England. He says: "Having no library within reach, I live upon my own stores, which are, however, more ample perhaps than were ever before possessed by one whose whole estate was in his inkstand." He generously supported the family of Coleridge, who were left destitute. His first wife was a sister of Coleridge's wife.
[50] "To expect an author to talk as he writes is ridiculous," says Hazlitt; "even if he did, you would find fault with him as a pedant."
[51] There is a sort of knowledge beyond the power of learning to bestow, and this is to be had in conversation: so necessary is this to understanding the characters of men, that none are more ignorant of them than those learned pedants whose lives have been entirely consumed in colleges and among books.—Fielding.
[52] His publishers paid Moore three thousand guineas for the copyright of "Lalla Rookh," his favorite production; and the liberal purchasers, Longman & Co., had no reason to regret their bargain. When Moore's "Lalla Rookh" first appeared, the author was terribly taken aback in company by Lady Holland, who said to him, "Mr. Moore, I don't intend to read your Larry O'Rourke; I don't like Irish stories!"
[53] Madame de Lafayette was a warm friend of Rochefoucauld. She was intimately allied to the clever men of the time, and was respected and loved by them. The author of the "Maxims" owed much to her, while she also was under obligations to him. Their friendship was of mutual benefit. "He gave me intellect," she said, "and I reformed his heart."
[54] His enemies having declared that De Vega's dramas were not judged upon their merit, but were popular because they bore his name,—to try the public taste he wrote and published a book of poems anonymously, entitled "Soliloquies on God." Their merit was undisputed, and they were vastly popular, until the carping critics threatened him with the unknown author as a rival. His triumph when he claimed them as his own was complete.
[55] Coleridge tells us how he was once cured of infidelity by his teacher. "I told Boyer that I hated the thought of becoming a clergyman. 'Why so?' said he. 'Because, to tell you the truth, sir,' I said, 'I'm an infidel!' For this, without further ado, Boyer flogged me,—wisely, as I think, soundly, as I know. Any whining or sermonizing would have gratified my vanity, and confirmed me in my absurdity; as it was, I was laughed at, and got heartily ashamed of my folly."
[56] When Hume was in Paris receiving the homage of the philosophers, three little boys were brought before him, who complimented him after the fashion of grown persons, expressing their admiration for his beautiful history. These children afterwards succeeded to the throne as Louis XVI., his brother, Louis XVIII., and Charles X.
[57] This was the Tom Paine on whom was written one of the most felicitous of epitaphs:—
"Here lies Tom Paine, who wrote in Liberty's defence,
But in his 'Age of Reason' lost his 'Common Sense.'"
[58] Bacon was full of crotchets, so to speak. In spring, he would go out for a drive in an open coach while it rained, to receive "the benefit of irrigation," which, he contended, was "most wholesome because of the nitre in the air, and the universal spirit of the world." He had extraordinary notions and indulged them freely, such as dosing himself with chemicals, rhubarb, nitre, saffron, and many other medicines. At every meal his table was abundantly strewn with flowers and sweet herbs.
[59] It is curious that St. Pierre's story of Paul and Virginia, which has since proved one of the most popular tales ever written, was at first listened to by the author's friends so coldly that after it was finished he laid it by for months; but when it once got into print the public indorsed it immediately, and fresh editions followed each other in rapid succession.
[60] Poor, dear Rogers! Smith was disposed to be a little too hard on him. Some one having asked after Rogers's health in Smith's presence, he replied, "He's not very well." "Why, what's the matter?" rejoined the querist. "Oh, don't you know," said Smith, "he's produced a couplet;" and added: "When our friend is delivered of a couplet with infinite labor and pain, he takes to his bed, has straw laid down, the knocker tied up, expects his friends to call and make inquiries, and the answer at the door invariably is, 'Mr. Rogers and his little couplet are as well as can be expected'!"
[61] That excellent and conservative critic, Epes Sargent, says of the author of "Don Juan," "He may have been overrated in his day; but his place in English literature must ever be in the front rank of the immortals." "Byron," said Emerson once, "had large utterance, but little to say,"—a half-truth pointedly expressed; but, alluding to Byron's poems in his later life, acknowledging their captivating energy, Emerson denied having uttered, even in conversation, so derogatory a remark of him who was, with all his limitations, a bard palpably inspired.
[62] "I had learned from his works," remarks Lady Blessington, after meeting Landor at Florence, in May, 1825, "to form a high opinion of the man as well as the author. But I was not prepared to find in him the courtly, polished gentleman of high breeding, of manners, deportment, and demeanor, that one might expect to meet with in one who had passed the greater part of his life in courts."
[63] This man scornfully renounces your civil organizations,—county and city, or governor or army; is his own navy and artillery, judge and jury, legislature and executive. He has learned his lessons in a bitter school.—Emerson.
[64] "Every one of my writings," says Goethe, "has been furnished to me by a thousand different persons, by a thousand different things. The learned and the ignorant, the wise and the foolish, infancy and age, have come in turn, generally without having been the least suspicious of it, to bring me the offering of their thoughts, their faculties, their experience; often have they sown the harvest I have reaped. My work is that of an aggregation of human beings taken from the whole of nature; it bears the name of Goethe."
[65] When only eighteen years of age, in 1777, he wrote "The Robbers," a tragedy of extraordinary power, though he characterized it at a later day as "a monster for which fortunately there was no original." During a few years after its first publication it was translated into various languages and read all over Europe.
[66] Such facts as the following lead us to draw rather disparaging conclusions as to Dryden's character. He was short of money at a certain time, and sent to Jacob Tonson, his publisher, asking him to advance him some, which Tonson declined to do; whereupon Dryden sent him these lines, adding, "Tell the dog that he who wrote these can write more":—
"With leering looks, bull-faced, and freckled skin,
With two left legs, and Judas-colored hair,
And frowzy pores, that taint the ambient air!"
The bookseller felt the force of the description, and to avoid trouble immediately sent the insulting poet the money.
[67] The real name of this lady is Louise de la Rame. Her father was a Frenchman and her mother of English birth. The name of "Ouida" is an infantine corruption of her baptismal name Louise. Her first episode in love occurred when she was a maiden of forty years, resulting finally in a most embittering disappointment.
[68] Burns realized his own unfortunate lack of self-control, but he gives good advice to others, as follows:—
"Reader, attend! Whether thy soul
Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole
In low pursuit,—
Know, prudent, cautious self-control
Is wisdom's root."
[69] It is said to have been when Handel's great appetite was being spoken of as rather at antipodes with his glorious musical conceptions, that Sydney Smith remarked, "his own idea of heaven was eating foie gras to the sound of trumpets!"
[70] The overture to "Don Giovanni," generally considered to be the best portion of the opera, was written by Mozart in two hours, he having overslept himself. It was copied in great haste by the scribes, and actually played for the first time without rehearsal.
[71] The poet Carpani once asked his friend Haydn how it happened that his church music was of so animating and cheerful a character. "I cannot make it otherwise," replied the composer; "I write according to the thoughts which I feel. When I think of God, my heart is so full of joy that the notes dance and leap as it were from my pen."
[72] Dumas was a charming story-teller in society. Being at a large party one evening, the hostess tried to draw him out to exhibit his powers in this line. At last, weary of being importuned, he said: "Every one to his trade, madam. The gentleman who entered your drawing-room just before me is a distinguished artillery officer. Let him bring a cannon here and fire it; then I will tell one of my little stories."
[73] Churchill was a spendthrift of fame, and enjoyed all his revenue while he lived; posterity owes him little, and pays him nothing.—Disraeli.
[74] Wither had a strange career. He was imprisoned for some published satire in 1613, at the age of twenty-five, but lived to his eightieth year, dying finally in misery and obscurity.
[75] Dr. Johnson was not particularly inclined to "smash images;" but when he looked for the first time upon Callcott's picture of "Milton and his Daughters," one of whom holds a pen as if about to write from his dictation, the doctor coolly remarked, "The daughters were never taught to write!"
[76] Such a superiority do the pursuits of literature possess over other occupation, that even he who attains but a mediocrity merits pre-eminence above those that excel the most in the common and vulgar professions.—Hume.
[77] Allston's death was peculiar. It occurred in 1843, after a cheerful evening passed in the midst of his friends. He had just laid his hand on the head of a favorite young friend, and after begging her to live as near perfection as she could, he blessed her with fervent solemnity, and with that blessing on his lips, died.
[78] The farm of William M. Evarts is situated in Vermont. He once, in eulogizing that State, declared that no criminal was allowed to enter its prisons unless he furnished evidence of good moral character before he committed his crime!
[79] E. P. Whipple said of Agassiz in 1866: "He is not merely a scientific thinker, he is a scientific force; and no small portion of the immense influence he exerts is due to the energy, intensity, and geniality which distinguish the nature of the man. In personal intercourse he inspires as well as informs; communicates not only knowledge, but the love of knowledge."
[80] On the fly-leaf of a volume of Anderson's "British Poets" he wrote the following lines:—
"Ye autograph-secreting thieves,
Keep scissors from these precious leaves,
And likewise thumbs, profane and greasy,
From pages hallowed by S. T. C."
The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait.—Shakespeare.
[82] When Lamb was once asked by a friend why he did not leave off smoking, he humorously replied that he could find no equivalent vice.
[83] A patient who had been an inveterate smoker of tobacco for years, on entering the hospital was placed in a hot water bath, and here he remained for half an hour. A frog and other aqueous animals placed in the same water after it had become cool, died instantly; showing that the patient had exuded by the pores of the skin sufficient nicotine to impregnate the water.
[84] At another time, having been greatly annoyed by the persistent crying and screaming of some infant children, Lamb tried to bear it patiently; but finally he quietly ejaculated, "B-b-blessed b-be the m-memory of g-good King Herod!"
[85] Hayden, the painter, says of Keats, that at dinner he would swallow some grains of red pepper in order that he might enjoy the more the "delicious coolness of claret."
[86] It was at Holland House, of which he became possessed by marriage, that Addison
"Taught us how to live; and (oh! too high
A price for knowledge) taught us how to die."
[87] Those were days when people drank freely. "How I should like," said Grattan one day to Rogers, "to spend my whole life in a small neat cottage! I could be content with very little; I should need only cold meat, and bread, and beer, and plenty of claret."
[88] The blemishes of great men are not the less blemishes; but they are, unfortunately, the easiest part for imitation.—Disraeli.
[89] Occupied, the last time the author visited Milan, as barracks for a cavalry regiment. Time and exposure are fast obliterating the original work of Da Vinci. In 1520 Leonardo da Vinci visited France at the urgent solicitation of Francis I. His health was feeble, and the king often came to Fontainebleau to see him. One day when the king entered, Leonardo rose up in bed to receive him, but in the effort fainted. Francis hastened to support him; but the eyes of the artist closed forever, and he lay encircled in the arms of the monarch.
[90] The original copy of this work is still preserved, dated 1671, though it was not published until 1690,—an evidence of the author's great caution in offering his views to the public. Three of his works were not published until after his death.
[91] Rogers says that Gibbon took very little exercise. He had been staying some time with Lord Sheffield in the country; and when he was about to go away, the servants could not find his hat. "Bless me," said Gibbon, "I certainly left it in the hall on my arrival here." He had not stirred out of the house during the whole of the visit.
[92] Châteaubriand was the most famous French author of the First Empire. It will be remembered that he visited this country in 1791. He wrote, relative to dining with Washington at Philadelphia: "There is a virtue in the look of a great man. I felt myself warmed and refreshed by it during the rest of my life." His career was full of remarkable vicissitudes. He was once left for dead on the battlefield, suffered banishment, and was for a time imprisoned in the Bastile.
[93] Thackeray says of Congreve: "He loved, conquered, and jilted the beautiful Bracegirdle, the heroine of all his plays, the favorite of all the town of her day."
[94] Galileo was remarkable, even in his youth, for mechanical genius, and also for his accomplishments in painting, poetry, music, and song. In early childhood, it is said of him, "while other boys were whipping their tops, he was scientifically considering the cause of the motion."
[95] "I was nigh taking my life with my own hands," he wrote, "but art held me back. I could not leave the world until I had revealed what was within me." In view of his great misfortune, his dying words are very touching: "I shall be able to hear in heaven!"
[96] When "Paradise Lost" was first published, in 1667, Edmund Waller, himself a poet, politician, and critic, said: "The old blind schoolmaster, John Milton, has published a tedious poem on the fall of man; if its length be not considered a merit, it has no other." The second edition was not brought out until seven years later, 1674, the year in which Milton died. This edition was prefaced by two short poems, the first by Andrew Marvell in English, and the second by Samuel Barrow in Latin, in which Milton's poem is placed "above all Greek, above all Roman fame."
[97] When a friend complained to Camoens that he had not furnished some promised verses for him, the disheartened poet replied: "When I wrote verses I was young, had sufficient food, was a lover, and beloved by many friends, and by the ladies; then I felt poetical ardor; now I have no spirits to write, no peace of mind or of body."
[98] The county jail in which Bunyan spent the twelve years of his life from 1660 to 1672 was taken down in 1801. It stood on what is now the vacant piece of land at the corner of the High Street and Silver Street, used as a market-place, in Bedford. Silver Street was so named because it was the quarter where the Jews in early times trafficked in the precious metals.
[99] Ben Jonson tried his fortune as an actor, but did not succeed. A duel with a brother actor, whom unhappily he killed, caused him to be imprisoned by the sentence of the court. He was ten years younger than Shakespeare, and survived him twenty-one years, dying in 1637.
[100] Imprisonment could not deprive Boëthius of the consolation of philosophy, nor Raleigh of his eloquence, nor Davenant of his grace, nor Chaucer of his mirth: nor five years of slavery at Algiers deaden the wit of Cervantes.—Willmott.
[101] Urged by the King of Spain to punish Raleigh for his attack on the town of St. Thomas, James I. basely resolved to carry into execution a sentence sixteen years old, which had been followed by an imprisonment of thirteen years, and then a release. So Raleigh was brought up before the Court of King's Bench to receive sentence, and was beheaded the next morning.
[102] Philip III., King of Spain, saw a student one day at a distance on the banks of the river Manzanares, reading a book, and from time to time breaking off to roar with laughter and show other signs of delight. "That person is either mad or is reading 'Don Quixote,'" said the king,—a volume of panegyric in a few words. Cervantes did not have to wait the verdict of posterity as to his incomparable history of the famous Knight La Mancha; it sprung at once into unbounded popularity, while "it laughed Spain's chivalry away."
[103] During Theodore Hook's confinement in a sponging-house in London he was visited by an old friend. Astonished at the comparative spaciousness of the apartment, the latter observed by way of consolation, "Really, Hook, you are not so badly lodged, after all. This is a cheerful room enough." "Oh, yes," replied Theodore, pointing significantly to the iron defences outside; "remarkably so—barring the windows."
"Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind
To war and arms I fly."True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield."Yet this inconstancy is such
As you too shall adore;
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honor more."
[105] Swift and Prior were very intimate, and he is frequently mentioned in the "Journal to Stella." "Mr. Prior," says Swift, "walks to make himself fat, and I to keep myself lean. We often walk round the Park together."
[106] De Quincey was often very happily delivered of witty ideas. He said on one occasion, "If once a man indulges himself in murder, very soon he comes to think little of robbing; and from robbing he comes next to drinking and Sabbath-breaking, and from that to incivility and procrastination. Once being upon this downward path, you never know where you are to stop. Many a man has dated his ruin from some murder or other that perhaps he thought little of at the time."
[107] "I cannot bear much thinking," said Cowper. "The meshes of the brain are composed of such mere spinner's threads in me, that when a long thought finds its way into them, it buzzes and twangs and bustles about at such a rate as seems to threaten the whole contexture."
[108] Macaulay spoke with great admiration of Bentham, and placed him in the same rank with Galileo and Locke, designating him as "the man who found jurisprudence a gibberish, and left it a science."
[109] Béranger's first collection of songs was published in 1815 and received with great favor by the people; but the bold, patriotic, and often satirical tone of these songs gave offence to the Government; and as the author did not abate the freedom of his criticism in future poems, he was condemned to imprisonment and to pay a heavy fine.
[110] "In a cellar, or the meanest haunt of the casual wanderer, was to be found," as Dr. Johnson says, "the man whose knowledge of life might have aided the statesman, whose eloquence might have influenced senates, and whose conversation might have polished courts."
[111] Mozart said of him that he struck you, whenever he pleased, with a thunderbolt. Leigh Hunt also said he was the Jupiter of music; nor is the title the less warranted from his including in his genius the most affecting tenderness as well as the most overpowering grandeur.
[112] His biographer tells us that the King of Prussia offered him three thousand crowns a year, to attract him to Berlin; but he declined to quit the service of the Emperor Joseph, who paid him only eight hundred florins; and that he was often reduced to painful distress for want of money while he lived in Vienna.
[113] We see that which we bring eyes to see, and appreciation presupposes a degree of the same genius in ourselves. Mozart's wife said of him that he was a better dancer than musician. Leigh Hunt tells us that when Mozart became a great musician, a man in distress accosted him in the street, and as the composer had no money to give him, he bade him wait a little, while he went into a coffee-house, where he wrote a beautiful minuet extempore, and, sending the poor man to the nearest music-dealer's, made him a present of the handsome sum gladly paid by the publisher.
[114] This book, which none of us fail to read and read again with delight, was at first very coldly received, and severely attacked by the reviewers; until Lord Holland, being ill, sent to his bookseller for some amusing book to read, and received the "Vicar of "Wakefield." He read it, and was so much pleased with it that he mentioned it wherever he visited. The consequence was, the first edition was rapidly exhausted, and the fame of the book established.
[115] Perhaps the cause of Dante's struggle through life lay in that reckless sarcasm which prompted his answer to the Prince of Verona, who asked him how he could account for the fact, that in the household of princes the court fool was in greater favor than the philosopher. "Similarity of mind," said the fierce genius, "is all over the world the source of friendship."
[116] Kotzebue was fifty-eight years of age when he was assassinated at Mannheim, in 1819, by Karl Ludwig Sand, who was actuated by a fanatical zeal against one whom he considered a traitor to liberty. Kotzebue was a prolific writer, and has left several dramas.
[117] The sad lines in his last poem, entitled "Waiting for Death," will long be remembered:—
"Deformed and wrinkled; all that I can crave
Is quiet in my grave.
Such as live happy hold long life a jewel;
But to me thou art cruel
If thou end not my tedious misery,
And I soon cease to be.
Strike, and strike home then; pity unto me,
In one short hour's delay, is tyranny!"
[118] "Schiller," says Coleridge, "has the material sublime to produce an effect; he sets a whole town on fire, and throws infants with their mothers into the flames, or locks up a father in an old tower. But Shakespeare drops a handkerchief, and the same or greater effect follows."
[119] "'Hudibras,'" says Hallam, "was incomparably more popular than 'Paradise Lost.' No poem in our language rose at once to so great reputation; nor can this remarkable popularity be called ephemeral, for it is looked upon to-day as a classic." Butler died in 1680.
[120] "Benvenuto Cellini, the jeweller, engraver, poet, musician, soldier, sculptor, and lover: and in all so truly admirable!" His autobiography remained in dusty oblivion for the period of two hundred years after his death before it met the public eye.
[121] "We quote a verse from his "Death-Bed Lament," contained in this volume:—
"Deceiving world, that with alluring toys
Hast made my life the subject of thy scorn,
And scornest now to lend thy fading joys,
To out-length my life, whom friends have left forlorn;—
How well are they that die ere they are born,
And never see thy slights, which few men shun,
Till unawares they helpless are undone!"
[122] Before Miller died, he had cleared over eighteen thousand pounds by the publication of "Tom Jones." The number of editions that has been published is almost fabulous. The popularity of Fielding may be judged of from what Dr. Johnson says of his "Amelia": "It was, perhaps, the only book, of which, being printed off betimes one morning, a new edition was called for before night."
[123] Swift has had many biographers; his life has been told by the kindest and most good-natured of men, Scott, who admired but could not bring himself to love him; and by stout old Johnson, who, forced to admit him into the company of poets, receives the famous Irishman, and takes off his hat to him with a bow of surly recognition, scans him from head to foot, and passes over to the other side of the street.—Thackeray.
[124] Swift at one time in his subtle way declared with elaborate reasons, that on the whole it would be impolitic to abolish the Christian religion in England. We have yet to discover a finer piece of irony. His exquisitely ridiculous proposition to utilize for food the babies born in Ireland, so as to prevent their becoming a burden to the country, will also be remembered.
[125] It is in the nature of such lords of intellect to be solitary; they are in the world, but not of it; and our minor struggles, brawls, successes, pass over them.—Thackeray.
[126] "In London," says Dawson, "Johnson suffered a great deal from poverty, and made use of many little artifices to eke out his scanty means. All the great kindly acts which his large manly heart prompted him to do cost him much self-denial. When he said that a man could live very well in a garret for one-and-sixpence a week, the statement was not a speculative but an experimental one."
[127] Tasso was often obliged to borrow a crown from a friend to pay for his month's lodging. He has left us a pretty sonnet to his cat, in which he begs the light of her eyes to write by, being too poor to purchase a candle.
[128] Burton is said to have been, in the intervals of his vapors, the most facetious companion in the university where he was educated. So great was the demand for his "Anatomy of Melancholy," when published, that his publisher is said to have acquired an estate by the sale of it.
[129] How appropriate are the lines by Mrs. Browning, dedicated to Cowper's grave:—
"O poets! from a maniac's tongue was poured the deathless singing!
O Christians! at your cross of hope a hopeless hand was clinging!
O men! this man in brotherhood your weary paths beguiling,
Groaned inly while he taught you peace, and died while we were smiling!"
[130] According to Disraeli, Dr. Hawksworth, who was employed by the English Government to write an account of Captain Cook's first voyage, and who was the intimate friend of Dr. Johnson, absolutely died from the effects of severe criticism. He was an extremely graceful, effective, and ready writer.
[131] Racine encountered much harsh criticism, which rendered him very unhappy. He told his son in after years that he suffered far more pain from the fault found with his productions than he ever experienced pleasure from their success.
[132] Richter's remark that "some souls fall from heaven like flowers, but ere the pure fresh buds have had time to open, they are trodden in the dust of the earth, and lie soiled and crushed beneath the foul tread of some brutal hoof," has been aptly applied to Keats.
[133] Keats modestly admitted the shortcomings of his early compositions. He said, "I have written independently, without judgment; I may write independently and with judgment hereafter. The genius of poetry must work out its own salvation in a man."
[134] Collins was deeply attached to a young lady, who did not return his passion, and there is little doubt that the consequent disappointment preyed upon his mind to such an extent as finally to dethrone his reason. Dr. Johnson says nothing of this, but tells us how "he loved fairies, genii, giants, and monsters," and how "he delighted to rove through the meanders of enchantment, to gaze on the magnificence of golden palaces, and to repose by waterfalls of Elysian gardens."
[135] Johnson met Collins one day with a book under his arm, at which the former looked inquiringly. "I have but one book," said the melancholy poet; "it is the Bible." After his death, which occurred in his thirty-sixth year, there was found among his papers an ode on the "Superstitions of the Highlands." In his last days he committed many manuscript poems to the flames.
[136] Shelley's favorite amusement had been boating and sailing. While returning one day—July 8, 1822—from Leghorn, whither he had been to welcome Leigh Hunt to Italy, his boat was struck by a squall and he was drowned. Thus he met the same fate as his deserted wife.
[137] As to Shelley's mode of composition, he said: "When my brain gets heated with thought, it soon boils and throws off images and words faster than I can skim them off. In the morning, when cooled down, out of that rude sketch, as you justly call it, I shall attempt a drawing."
[138] This production was circulated in manuscript only for the first three or four years after it was completed. Lockhart says that it was hearing it read from manuscript that led Scott to produce the "Lay of the Last Minstrel."
[139] "Genius is rarely conscious of its power," says Hazlitt; "our own idea is that if Gray had had an eye to his posthumous fame, had cast a sidelong glance to the approbation of posterity, he would have failed in producing a work of lasting texture like this."
[140] It is not many years since the auctioneer in a public salesroom in London, in the course of his advertised list of objects to be disposed of, held up two small half sheets of paper, all written over, torn, and mutilated. He called these scraps most interesting, but apologized for their condition. There was present a highly intelligent company of amateurs in autographs, attracted by the sale. The first offer for these scraps of paper was ten pounds. The bids rose rapidly until sixty-five was reached, when they were knocked off; but as there proved to be two bidders at that price, it was necessary to put them up again. They were finally closed at one hundred pounds. These scraps of paper, which were almost a hundred years old to a day, were the original copy of "Gray's Elegy."
[141] Speaking of Byron's mother, Dawson, the brilliant English lecturer, says: "She was a shrieking, howling, red-faced, passionate, self-indulgent person; now spoiling him by ridiculous indulgence, now subjecting him to her extravagant wrath. A ridiculous person, an absurd person, short and fat. What a sight it was to see her in a rage, running round the room after the lame boy, and he mocking, and dodging, and hopping about! Although that may be droll to hear, it was tragical to suffer from; and there is much mercy to be bestowed upon a man whose father was a blackguard and whose mother was a fool!"
[142] We quote from one of his sister's letters to a confidential friend: "Charles is very busy at the office; he will be kept there to-day until seven or eight o'clock. He came home very smoky and drinky last night, so that I am afraid a hard day's work will not agree very well with him. I have been eating a mutton-chop all alone, and I have just been looking into the pint porter-pot, which I find quite empty, and yet I am still very dry; if you were with me, we would have a glass of brandy and water, but it is quite impossible to drink brandy and water by one's self." Is not this a quiet peep behind the curtain?
[143] It was singular that with his acute sensibility and tenderness of nature Lamb never cared for music. But this was the case with Dr. Johnson, Fox, Pitt, and Sir James Mackintosh. Johnson was observed by a friend to be extremely inattentive at a concert, while a celebrated solo player was running up the divisions and subdivisions of notes upon the violin. The friend desiring to induce the Doctor to give his attention, remarked how difficult the performance was. "Difficult, do you call it, sir?" replied Johnson. "I wish it were impossible." It will also be remembered that Goethe was not particularly fond of music. Once at a court concert in Weimar, when a pianist was in the middle of a very long sonata, the poet suddenly rose up, and, to the horror of the assembled ladies and gentlemen, exclaimed, "If this lasts three minutes longer, I shall confess everything!"
[144] Leigh Hunt tells us that Lamb was under the middle size, and of fragile make, but with a head as fine as if it had been carved on purpose. He had a very weak stomach. Three glasses of wine would put him in as lively a condition as can be wrought in some men only by as many bottles.
[145] In his volume of wise sayings, which has passed through many editions, we find this paragraph: "The gamester, if he dies a martyr to his profession, is doubly ruined. He adds his soul to every other loss, and by the act of suicide renounces earth to forfeit heaven!"
[146] When the last scene came, those who had neglected him in life, at least paid their respects to his remains; twelve thousand people followed the body of Robert Burns to its resting-place in the grave.
[147] We find these two verses in Thoreau's published journal:
I.
Canst thou love with thy mind,
And reason with thy heart?
Canst thou be kind,
And from thy darling part?II.
Canst thou range earth, sea, and air,
And so meet me everywhere?
Through all events I will pursue thee,
Through all persons I will woo thee.
[148] In battle, the maiden displayed a spirit of almost reckless bravery, leading her followers into the thickest of the fight. "She was benign," says Michelet, "in the fiercest conflict, good among the bad, gentle even in war. She wept after the victories, and relieved with her own hands the necessities of the wounded."
[149] Her husband, George Maclean, was Governor of Cape Coast Castle, and, as is well known, treated her with marked disrespect, even going so far as to introduce a favorite mistress into the castle. Some envious people circulated vile reports as to "L. E. L.," but no one of intelligence ever heeded them.
[150] "Her gladness was like a burst of sunlight," says one of her own sex who knew her well; "and if in her sadness she resembled the night, it was night wearing her stars. She was a Muse, a Grace, a variable child, a dependent woman, the Italy of human beings."
[151] Charlotte married her father's curate, Mr. Nicholls. The other two sisters died young and unmarried. "The bringing out of our book of poems," writes Charlotte, "was hard work. As was to be expected, neither we nor our poems were at all wanted."
[152] Longfellow was a classmate of Hawthorne in college, and Franklin Pierce was his most intimate friend. When Pierce was chosen President, he at once appointed our author to the Consulship at Liverpool, which lucrative office he held for four years.
[153] Thackeray testifies to his hearty admiration of the elder Dumas in these words: "I think of the prodigal banquets to which this Lucullus of a man has invited me, with thanks and wonder."
[154] Jerrold was but twenty-five years of age when he wrote this the first of his dramas. It was a great success from the start, and had a run of three hundred consecutive nights, though the author received but seventy pounds for the copyright.
[155] Sydney Smith, when talking of the bad effect of late hours, said of a distinguished diner-out, that it should be written on his tomb, "He dined late,"—to which Luttrell added, "And died early."
[156] Some one told Father Taylor, the well-known seamen's clergyman of Boston, that a certain individual who was under discussion was a very good citizen, except for an amiable weakness. "But I have found," said the practical old preacher, "that weakness of character is nearly the only defect which cannot be remedied."
[157] The prejudice excited in Queen Anne's mind by the Archbishop of York, on account of the alleged infidelity in the "Tale of a Tub," is supposed to be the reason why Swift's aspirations were not granted by his royal mistress. His final unsatisfactory appointment as Dean of St. Patrick was awarded to him instead of the coveted bishopric.
[158] The author remembers him well on the occasion of his first appearance in this country as a lecturer and public reader. His style at that time (which was afterwards changed) was that of a modern dude, wearing flash waistcoats, double watch-chains, gold eye-glasses and rings.
[159] No father or mother thinks their own children ugly; and this self-deceit is yet stronger with respect to the offspring of the mind.—Cervantes.
[160] No one can anticipate the suffrages of posterity. Every man in judging of himself is his own contemporary. He may feel the gale of popularity, but he cannot tell how long it will last. His opinion of himself wants distance, wants time, wants numbers, to set off and confirm it. He must be indifferent to his own merits before he can feel a confidence in them. Besides, every one must be sensible of a thousand weaknesses and deficiencies in himself, whereas genius only leaves behind it the monuments of its strength.—Hazlitt.
[161] The "Song of the Shirt" first appeared in "Punch," in 1844; and was Hood's favorite piece of all his published compositions, though the "Bridge of Sighs" was perhaps more popular with the public. Hood died in 1845, at the age of forty-seven.
[162] His sister, Mlle. de Scudéri, is better known to us in literature than himself. She was a distinguished member of the society which met at the Hôtel de Rambouillet, and which has been made so famous by Molière in his "Précieuses ridicules." She survived her brother some years.
[163] Sue studied medicine at first, and was with the French army in Spain (1823) as military surgeon. After inheriting his father's fortune, he studied painting, but renounced that art finally to engage in literature. His romances were for a time as popular as those of Dumas, and in their character as immoral as those of Paul de Kock.
[164] He possessed a diminutive figure, with a pale, attenuated face, eyes of spiritual brightness, an expansive and calm brow, and his movements were characterized by a nervous alacrity. Until he reached the years of middle life he was embarrassed by restricted means and necessary habits of self-denial.
[165] With gun in hand, and note-book and drawing material by his side, Audubon explored the coast, lakes, and rivers from Labrador and Canada to the Gulf of Mexico. As early as 1810 he explored alone the primeval forests of North America, impelled more by a love of Nature than a desire to make himself famous. His original and finely hand-colored illustrated work sold in folio at a thousand dollars a volume, and is now rare and valuable.
[166] Like Milton, Swift, and other great geniuses, Scott was, as Swift says of himself at school, "very justly celebrated for his stupidity." But one is inclined to think that it was largely owing to a want of talent in his master rather than in the pupil. It will be remembered that it was the illustrious Samuel Parr, when an undermaster at Harrow School, who first discovered the latent talent and genius of Sheridan, and who by judicious cultivation brought it forth and developed it.
[167] In five or six years subsequent to that failure of his maiden speech, Disraeli, as he was then known, became leader of the Opposition in the House, and Chancellor of the Exchequer soon after, rising rapidly, until in 1868 he became Premier of England.
[168] Richter was a Bavarian, and of very humble birth. During his youthful career he was reduced to extreme indigence. He became a tutor in a private family, and afterwards taught school, all the while striving with his pen both for fame and money, until at last he "compelled" public appreciation. He is one of the few geniuses of that period who were happy in their domestic relations. He died at Baireuth in 1825.
[169] Royer-Collard was an eminent philosopher and statesman, the founder of a school called the "Doctrinaire," of which Cousin was a disciple. He was President of the Chamber of Deputies in 1828. His father's family name was Royer, to which he joined the name of his wife, Mademoiselle Collard.
[170] Hazlitt was a just but merciless critic. It was he who designated Moore's productions "the poetry of the toilet-table, of the saloon, and of the fashionable world,—not the poetry of nature, of the heart, or of human life;" and the force of the criticism lay in the fact of its truth.
[171] Goldsmith himself tells us: "My father, the younger son of a good family, was possessed of a small living in the Church. His education was above his fortune, and his generosity greater than his education. Poor as he was, he had his flatterers; for every dinner he gave them they returned him an equivalent in praise, and this was all he wanted."
[172] It happened that a certain lady became charmed with Mirabeau by reading his writings, and wrote him rather a tender letter, asking him to describe himself to her. He did so by return of post as follows: "Figure to yourself a tiger that has had the small-pox." History has not handed down the sequel.
[173] Mirabeau and the Marchioness had agreed on mutual destruction, by exchanging poisoned locks of hair, if he failed to be acquitted.
[174] To make the appropriateness of this retort clear, it should be known that Judge Robinson was the author of many stupid, slavish, and scurrilous political pamphlets; and by his servility to the ruling powers he had been raised to the eminence which he thus shamefully disgraced.
[175] The effect the poem had upon the Earl of Southampton when he first read it will be remembered. Spenser took it to this noble patron of poets as soon as it was finished, and sent it up to him. The earl read a few pages and said to a servant, "Take the writer twenty pounds." Reading on, he presently cried in rapture, "Carry that man twenty pounds more." Still he read on; but at length he shouted, "Go turn that fellow out of the house, for if I read further I shall be ruined!"
[176] When a boy, West secretly pursued his first attempts at art, absenting himself from school to do so. Being one day surprised at his work in the garret of the house by his mother, he expected to be seriously reproved; but Mrs. West saw incipient genius in her son's work at the age of ten; so she kissed and congratulated him, promising to intercede with his father in his behalf that he would forgive him for his truancy.
[177] It was not without difficulty that Gibbon could obtain a publisher for his famous History. After it had been declined by several houses, it was finally undertaken by Thomas Cadell, "on easy terms," as the author expresses it. It was thought best to publish only five hundred copies at first; this edition being soon exhausted, edition after edition followed in rapid succession, until, as Gibbon says, "my book was on every table and on almost every toilet."
[178] Sydney Smith said of Mrs. Siddons: "What a face she had! The gods do not bestow such a face as hers on the stage more than once in a century. I knew her very well, and she had the good taste to laugh at my jokes; she was an excellent person, but she was not remarkable out of her profession, and never got out of tragedy even in common life. She used to stab the potatoes; and said 'Boy, give me a knife!' as she would have said 'Give me a dagger!'"
[179] "I first discovered Opie," says Dr. Wolcott, "in a little hovel in the Parish of St. Agnes, Cornwall. He was the son of a poor sawyer. I was first led to notice him by some drawings which he had made." The good Doctor gave him material aid, took him to his house, and finally introduced him into London society.
[180] He fought under Masaniello, and after the final defeat at Naples he escaped to Florence, where he was befriended by the Grand Duke, who was a liberal patron of art. His masterpiece is considered to be the "Conspiracy of Catiline," though he excelled in wild mountain scenery rather than in the grouping of human figures.
[181] Haydon, the historical painter, had power but not popularity. Sir Arthur Shea, a man who rose to the height of his profession as regarded popularity, was Haydon's special aversion. "He is," Haydon once began, "the most impotent painter in—" His listeners supposed he would add "the world." That did not satisfy Haydon's antipathy, and his conclusion was,—"in the solar system!"
[182] Many of our readers will remember a remarkable picture by Correggio in the Dresden Gallery, representing a "Penitent Magdalen," the ineffable and almost divine beauty of which no one can fail to appreciate. One of the Saxon kings paid six thousand louis-d'ors ($30,000) for this painting, which is only about eighteen inches square. Twice that sum would not purchase it to-day.
[183] Canova executed a statue of Washington, which ornaments the State House in Boston, and is known to have produced during his life fifty statues and as many busts, besides numerous groups in marble. He died in 1822, having the reputation of being the greatest sculptor of his age.
[184] Spagnoletto was finally appointed court painter in Spain, and some of his best paintings still adorn the Madrid Gallery. His "Adoration of the Shepherds" is familiar to us all, and remains unsurpassed in power of conception and execution. In the Madrid Museo is another of his masterpieces, a "Mater Dolorosa."
[185] "Mr. Murphy, sir, you knew Mr. Garrick?" asked Rogers the poet of that individual. "Yes, sir, I did, and no man better." "Well, sir, what did you think of his acting?" After a pause: "Well, sir, off the stage he was a mean, sneaking little fellow. But on the stage"—throwing up his hands and eyes—"oh, my great God!"
[186] In the broad grounds of Abington Abbey, in Northamptonshire, stands Garrick's mulberry-tree, with this inscription upon copper attached to one of the limbs: "This tree was planted by David Garrick, Esq., at the request of Ann Thursby, as a growing testimony of their friendship, 1778."
[187] Pope was younger than Betterton, but they were very warm personal friends, and it is thought that the poet aided the actor in the adaptations which he published from Chaucer, and for which he received hearty if not merited commendation.
[188] Garrick was for a long time at her feet, and indeed was at one time engaged to be married to her, but the nuptials were not consummated. It was generally believed that the engagement was broken from disinclination on her part.
[189] During the vacation season Miss Woffington went to Bath, and on her return was telling Quin how much she had been pleased by the excursion. "And pray, madam," he inquired, "what made you go to Bath?" "Mere wantonness," she replied. "And pray, madam, did it cure you?"
[190] From the volatility of his mind and conduct, it would be a misuse of language to say that he had good principles or bad principles. He had no principles at all. His life was a life of expedients and appearances, in which he developed a shrewdness and capacity made up of talent and mystification, of ability and trickery, which were found equal to almost all emergencies.—Whipple.
[191] Sheridan probably had not a penny in his pocket. He never did have for more than a few minutes at a time; yet this was the man of whose famous speech in the House of Commons Burke said: "It was the most astonishing effort of eloquence, argument, and wit united, of which there was any record or tradition." And of which Fox said, "All that he had ever heard, all that he had ever read, when compared with it, dwindled into nothing, and vanished like vapor before the sun."
[192] "A perpetual fountain of good sense," Dryden calls him; "and of good humor, too, and wholesome thought," adds Lowell. He was scholar, courtier, soldier, ambassador, one who had known poverty as a housemate, and who had been the companion of princes.
[193] Jonson died on the 6th of August, 1637, at the age of sixty-three. He survived both wife and children. He was buried in Westminster Abbey. A common slab laid over his grave bears the inscription, "O Rare Ben Johnson!"—not Jonson, as it is always printed. Jonson was a heavy drinker, and it has been said that every line of his poetry cost him a cup of sack. Canary was his favorite drink; of which he partook so immoderately that his friends called him familiarly the Canary Bird.
[194] Coleridge says sadly in his "Literary Life," "I have laid too many eggs in the hot sands of this wilderness the world, with ostrich carelessness and ostrich oblivion. The greater part, indeed, have been trodden under foot and are forgotten. But yet no small number have crept forth into life, some to furnish feathers for the caps of others, and still more to plume the shafts in the quiver of my enemies,—of them that, unprovoked, have lain in wait against my soul."
[195] So disgusted was the paternal upholsterer, Pocquelin, at his son's choice of the stage for a profession, that he virtually disowned him. Molière was an assumed name, to save the family honor; but how rapidly that name became famous.
[196] Molière was fascinated by his young wife; her lighter follies charmed him. He was a husband who was always a lover. The actor on the stage was the very man he personated. Mademoiselle Molière, as she was called by the public, was the Lucile in "Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme." With what a fervor the poet feels her neglect! with what eagerness he defends her from the animadversions of the friend who would have dissolved the spell!—Disraeli.
[197] Campbell the poet and Turner the artist were dining together on a certain occasion with a large party. The poet was called upon for a toast, and by way of a joke on the great professor of the "sister art" gave, "The Painters and Glaziers." After the laughter had subsided, the artist was of course summoned to propose a toast also. He rose, and with admirable tact and ready wit responded to the author of "Pleasures of Memory" by giving "The Paper-stainers."
[198] Sir Joshua Reynolds was inclined to tell stories about Goldsmith's negligence in his habits, his want of neatness in dress, his unkempt appearance at all times, and his absolute want of cleanliness. No doubt the reflection was merited by the careless author; but the famous artist was himself such a gross consumer of snuff that his shirt-bosom, collars, and vest were never in a respectable condition.
[199] Milton was a London boy in his eighth year when Shakespeare died (1616); he was seventeen years old when Fletcher died (in 1625); and twenty-nine when Ben Jonson died (in 1637).
[200] Paul Jovius was from an ancient Italian family. He wrote altogether in Latin. Clement VII. made him a bishop, and he enjoyed the favor of Charles V. and Francis I., which enabled him to amass great wealth. He died at Florence in 1552.
[201] "Pope died in 1744," says Lowell, "at the height of his renown, the acknowledged monarch of letters, as supreme as Voltaire when the excitement and exposure of his coronation-ceremonies at Paris hastened his end, a generation later."
[202] No other man presented within himself such a bundle of contradictions. "He seems an embodied antithesis," says Whipple,—"a mass of contradictions, a collection of opposite frailties and powers. Such was the versatility of his mind and morals, that it is hardly possible to discern the connection between the giddy goodness and the brilliant wickedness which he delighted to exhibit." In all his relations he was consistently inconsistent.