THE MERMAID CLUB.
The celebrated club at the "Mermaid," as has been well observed by Gifford, "combined more talent and genius, perhaps, than ever met together before or since." The institution originated with Sir Walter Raleigh; and here, for many years, Ben Jonson regularly repaired with Shakspeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, Selden, Cotton, Carew, Martin, Donne, and many others whose names, even at this distant period, call up a mingled feeling of reverence and respect. Here, in the full flow and confidence of friendship, the lively and interesting "wit-combats" took place between Shakspeare and Jonson; and hither, in probable allusion to some of them, Beaumont fondly lets his thoughts wander in his letter to Jonson from the country:—
| "What things have we seen |
| Done at the Mermaid? heard words that have been |
| So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, |
| As if that every one from whom they came, |
| Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest." |
For the expression, "wit-combats," we must refer to Fuller, who in his "Worthies," describing the character of the Bard of Avon, says: "Many were the wit-combats between Shakspeare and Ben Jonson. I behold them like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war. Master Jonson, like the former, was built far higher in learning, solid, but slow in his performances; Shakspeare, like the latter, less in bulk but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention." With what delight would after generations have hung over any well-authenticated instances of these "wit-combats!" But, unfortunately, nothing on which we can depend has descended to us.
PORSON'S MEMORY.
Professor Porson, the great Græcist, when a boy at Eton, displayed the most astonishing powers of memory. In going up to a lesson one day, he was accosted by a boy in the same form: "Porson, what have you got there?" "Horace." "Let me look at it." Porson handed the book to his comrade; who, pretending to return it, dexterously substituted another in its place, with which Porson proceeded. Being called on by the master, he read and construed the tenth Ode of the first Book very regularly. Observing that the class laughed, the master said, "Porson, you seem to me to be reading on one side of the page, while I am looking at the other; pray whose edition have you?" Porson hesitated. "Let me see it," rejoined the master; who, to his great surprise, found it to be an English Ovid. Porson was ordered to go on; which he did, easily, correctly, and promptly, to the end of the Ode. Much more remarkable feats of memory than this, however, have been recorded of Porson's manhood.
WYCHERLEY'S WOOING.
Wycherley being at Tunbridge for the benefit of his health, after his return from the Continental trip the cost of which the king had defrayed, was walking one day with his friend, Mr. Fairbeard, of Gray's Inn. Just as they came up to a bookseller's shop, the Countess of Drogheda, a young, rich, noble, and lovely widow, came to the bookseller and inquired for the Plain Dealer—a well-known comedy of Wycherley's. "Madam," said Mr. Fairbeard, "since you are for the Plain Dealer, there he is for you"—pushing Wycherley towards her. "Yes," said Wycherley, "this lady can bear plain dealing; for she appears to me to be so accomplished, that what would be compliment said to others, would be plain dealing spoken to her." "No, truly, sir," said the Countess; "I am not without my faults, any more than the rest of my sex; and yet I love plain dealing, and am never more fond of it than when it tells me of them." "Then, Madam," said Fairbeard, "You and the Plain Dealer seem designed by Heaven for each other." In short, Wycherley walked with the Countess, waited upon her home, visited her daily while she was at Tunbridge, and afterwards when she went to London; where, in a little time, a marriage was concluded between them. The marriage was not a happy one.