Books and Authors Part 3

COLERIDGE'S "WATCHMAN."

Coleridge, among his many speculations, started a periodical, in prose and verse, ent.i.tled _The Watchman_, with the motto, "that all might know the truth, and that the truth might make us free." He watched in vain!

Coleridge's incurable want of order and punctuality, and his philosophical theories, tired out and disgusted his readers, and the work was discontinued after the ninth number. Of the unsaleable nature of this publication, he relates an amusing ill.u.s.tration. Happening one morning to rise at an earlier hour than usual, he observed his servant-girl putting an extravagant quant.i.ty of paper into the grate, in order to light the fire, and he mildly checked her for her wastefulness: "La!

sir," replied Nanny; "why, it's only _Watchmen_."

IRELAND'S SHAKSPEARE FORGERIES.

Mr. Samuel Ireland, originally a silk merchant in Spitalfields, was led by his taste for literary antiquities to abandon trade for those pursuits, and published several tours. One of them consisted of an excursion upon the river Avon, during which he explored, with ardent curiosity, every locality a.s.sociated with Shakspeare. He was accompanied by his son, a youth of sixteen, who imbibed a portion of his father's Shakspearean mania. The youth, perceiving the great importance which his parent attached to every relic of the poet, and the eagerness with which he sought for any of his MS. remains, conceived that it would not be difficult to gratify his father by some productions of his own, in the language and manner of Shakspeare's time. The idea possessed his mind for a certain period; and, in 1793, being then in his eighteenth year, he produced some MSS. said to be in the handwriting of Shakspeare, which he said had been given him by a gentleman possessed of many other old papers. The young man, being articled to a solicitor in Chancery, easily fabricated, in the first instance, the deed of mortgage from Shakspeare to Michael Fraser. The ecstasy expressed by his father urged him to the fabrication of other doc.u.ments, described to come from the same quarter.

Emboldened by success, he ventured upon higher compositions in prose and verse; and at length announced the discovery of an original drama, under the t.i.tle of _Vortigern_, which he exhibited, act by act, written in the period of two months. Having provided himself with the paper of the period, (being the fly-leaves of old books,) and with ink prepared by a bookbinder, no suspicion was entertained of the deception. The father, who was a maniac upon such subjects, gave such _eclat_ to the supposed discovery, that the attention of the literary world, and all England, was drawn to it; insomuch that the son, who had announced other papers, found it impossible to retreat, and was goaded into the production of the series which he had promised.

The house of Mr. Ireland, in Norfolk-street, Strand, was daily crowded to excess by persons of the highest rank, as well as by the most celebrated men of letters. The MSS. being mostly decreed genuine, were considered to be of inestimable worth; and at one time it was expected that Parliament would give any required sum for them. Some conceited amateurs in literature at length sounded an alarm, which was echoed by certain of the newspapers and public journals; notwithstanding which, Mr. Sheridan agreed to give 600_l_. for permission to play _Vortigern_ at Drury-lane Theatre. So crowded a house was scarcely ever seen as on the night of the performance, and a vast number of persons could not obtain admission. The predetermined malcontents began an opposition from the outset: some ill-cast characters converted grave scenes into ridicule, and there ensued between the believers and sceptics a contest which endangered the property. The piece was, accordingly, withdrawn.

The juvenile author was now so beset for information, that he found it necessary to abscond from his father's house; and then, to put an end to the wonderful ferment which his ingenuity had created, he published a pamphlet, wherein he confessed the entire fabrication. Besides _Vortigern_, young Ireland also produced a play of Henry II.; and, although there were in both such incongruities as were not consistent with Shakspeare's age, both dramas contain pa.s.sages of considerable beauty and originality.

The admissions of the son did not, however, screen the father from obloquy, and the reaction of public opinion affected his fortunes and his health. Mr. Ireland was the dupe of his zeal upon such subjects; and the son never contemplated at the outset the unfortunate effect. Such was the enthusiasm of certain admirers of Shakspeare, (among them Drs.

Parr and Warton,) that they fell upon their knees before the MSS.; and, by their idolatry, inspired hundreds of others with similar enthusiasm.

The young author was filled with astonishment and alarm, which at that stage it was not in his power to check. Sir Richard Phillips, who knew the parties, has thus related the affair in the _Anecdote Library_.

In the Catalogue of Dr. Parr's Library at Hatton, (_Bibliotheca Parriana_,) we find the following attempted explanation by the Doctor:--

"Ireland's (Samuel) 'Great and impudent forgery, called,' Miscellaneous Papers and Legal Instruments, under the hand and seal of William Shakspeare, folio 1796.

"I am almost ashamed to insert this worthless and infamously trickish book. It is said to include the tragedy of _King Lear_, and a fragment of _Hamlet_. Ireland told a lie when he imputed to _me_ the words which _Joseph Warton_ used, the very morning I called on Ireland, and was inclined to admit the possibility of genuineness in his papers. In my subsequent conversation, I told him my change of opinion. But I thought it not worth while to dispute in print with a detected impostor.--S. P."

Mr. Ireland died about 1802. His son, William Henry, long survived him; but the forgeries blighted his literary reputation for ever, and he died in straitened circ.u.mstances, about the year 1840. The reputed Shakspearean MSS. are stated to have been seen for sale in a p.a.w.nbroker's window in Wardour-street, Soho.

HOOLE, THE TRANSLATOR OF Ta.s.sO. THE GHOST PUZZLED.

Hoole was born in a hackney-coach, which was conveying his mother to Drury-lane Theatre, to witness the performance of the tragedy of _Timanthes_, which had been written by her husband. Hoole died in 1839, at a very advanced age. In early life, he ranked amongst the literary characters that adorned the last century; and, for some years before his death, had outlived most of the persons who frequented the _conversazioni_ of Dr. Johnson. By the will of the Doctor, Mr. Hoole was enabled to take from his library and effects such books and furniture as he might think proper to select, by way of memorial of that great personage. He accordingly chose a chair in which Dr. Johnson usually sat, and the desk upon which he had written the greater number of the papers of the _Rambler_; both these articles Mr. Hoole used constantly until nearly the day of his death.

Hoole was near-sighted. He was partial to the drama; and, when young, often strutted his hour at an amateur theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields.

Upon one occasion, whilst performing the ghost in _Hamlet_, Mr. Hoole wandered incautiously from off the trap-door through which he had emerged from the nether world, and by which it was his duty to descend.

In this dilemma he groped about, hoping to distinguish the aperture, keeping the audience in wonder why he remained so long on the stage after the crowing of the c.o.c.k. It was apparent from the lips of the ghost that he was holding converse with some one at the wings. He at length became irritated, and "alas! poor ghost!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, in tones sufficiently audible, "I tell you I can't find it." The laughter that ensued may be imagined. The ghost, had he been a sensible one, would have walked off; but no--he became more and more irritated, until the perturbed spirit was placed, by some of the bystanders, on the trap-door, after which it descended, with due solemnity, amid roars of laughter.

LORD BYRON'S VANITY

During the residence of Lord Byron at Venice, a clerk was sent from the office of Messrs. Vizard and Co., of Lincoln's Inn, to procure his lords.h.i.+p's signature to a legal instrument. On his arrival, the clerk sent a message to the n.o.ble poet, who appointed to receive him on the following morning. Each party was punctual to the minute. His lords.h.i.+p had dressed himself with the most studious care; and, on the opening of the door of his apartment, it was evident that he had placed himself in what he thought a becoming _pose_. His right arm was displayed over the back of a splendid couch, and his head was gently supported by the fingers of his left hand. He bowed slightly as his visitor approached him, and appeared anxious that his rec.u.mbent att.i.tude should remain for a time undisturbed. After the signing of the deed, the n.o.ble bard made a few inquiries upon the politics of England, in the tone of a finished exquisite. Some refreshment which was brought in afforded the messenger an opportunity for more minute observation. His lords.h.i.+p's hair had been curled and parted on the forehead; the collar of his s.h.i.+rt was thrown back, so that not only the throat but a considerable portion of his bosom was exposed to view, though partially concealed by some fanciful ornament suspended round the neck. His waistcoat was of costly velvet, and his legs were enveloped in a superb wrapper. It is to be regretted that so great a mind as that of Byron could derive satisfaction from things so trivial and unimportant, but much more that it was liable to be disturbed by a recollection of personal imperfections. In the above interview, the clerk directed an accidental glance at his lords.h.i.+p's lame foot, when the smile that had played upon the visage of the poet became suddenly converted into a frown. His whole frame appeared discomposed; his tone of affected suavity became hard and imperious; and he called to an attendant to open the door, with a peevishness seldom exhibited even by the most irritable.

LORD BYRON'S APOLOGY.

No one knew how to apologize for an affront with better grace, or with more delicacy, than Lord Byron. In the first edition of the first canto of _Childe Harold_, the poet adverted in a note to two political tracts--one by Major Pasley, and the other by Gould Francis Leckie, Esq.; and concluded his remarks by attributing "ignorance on the one hand, and prejudice on the other." Mr. Leckie, who felt offended at the severity and, as he thought, injustice of the observations, wrote to Lord Byron, complaining of the affront. His lords.h.i.+p did not reply immediately to the letter; but, in about three weeks, he called upon Mr. Leckie, and begged him to accept an elegantly-bound copy of a new edition of the poem, in which the offensive pa.s.sage was omitted.

FINE FLOURISHES.

Lord Brougham, in an essay published long ago in the _Edinburgh Review_, read a smart lesson to Parliamentary wits. "A wit," says his lords.h.i.+p, "though he amuses for the moment, unavoidably gives frequent offence to grave and serious men, who don't think public affairs should be lightly handled, and are constantly falling into the error that when a person is arguing the most conclusively, by showing the gross and ludicrous absurdity of his adversary's reasoning, he is jesting, and not arguing; while the argument is, in reality, more close and stringent, the more he shows the opposite picture to be grossly ludicrous--that is, the more effective the wit becomes. But, though all this is perfectly true, it is equally certain that danger attends such courses with the common run of plain men.

"Nor is it only by wit that genius offends: flowers of imagination, flights of oratory, great pa.s.sages, are more admired by the critic than relished by the worthy baronets who darken the porch of Boodle's--chiefly answering to the names of Sir Robert and Sir John--and the solid traders, the very good men who stream along the Strand from 'Change towards St. Stephen's Chapel, at five o'clock, to see the business of the country done by the Sovereign's servants. A pretty long course of observation on these component parts of a Parliamentary audience begets some doubt if n.o.ble pa.s.sages, (termed 'fine flourishes,') be not taken by them as personally offensive."

Take, for example, "such fine pa.s.sages as Mr. Canning often indulged himself and a few of his hearers with; and which certainly seemed to be received as an insult by whole benches of men accustomed to distribute justice at sessions. These worthies, the dignitaries of the empire, resent such flights as liberties taken with them; and always say, when others force them to praise--'Well, well, but it was out of place; we have nothing to do with king Priam here, or with a heathen G.o.d, such as aeolus; those kind of folk are all very well in Pope's _Homer_ and Dryden's _Virgil_; but, as I said to Sir Robert, who sat next me, what have you or I to do with them matters? I like a good plain man of business, like young Mr. Jenkinson--a man of the pen and desk, like his father was before him--and who never speaks when he is not wanted: let me tell you, Mr. Canning speaks too much by half. Time is short--there are only twenty four hours in the day, you know.'"

MATHEMATICAL SAILORS.

Nathaniel Bowditch, the translator of Laplace's _Mecanique Celeste_, displayed in very early life a taste for mathematical studies. In the year 1788, when he was only fifteen years old, he actually made an almanack for the year 1790, containing all the usual tables, calculations of the eclipses, and other phenomena, and even the customary predictions of the weather.

Bowditch was bred to the sea, and in his early voyages taught navigation to the common sailors about him. Captain Prince, with whom he often sailed, relates, that one day the supercargo of the vessel said to him, "Come, Captain, let us go forward and hear what the sailors are talking about under the lee of the long-boat." They went forward accordingly, and the captain was surprised to find the sailors, instead of spinning their long yarns, earnestly engaged with book, slate, and pencil, discussing the high matters of tangents and secants, alt.i.tudes, dip, and refraction. Two of them, in particular, were very zealously disputing,--one of them calling out to the other, "Well, Jack, what have you got?" "I've got the _sine_," was the answer. "But that ain't right,"

said the other; "_I_ say it is the _cosine_."

LEWIS'S "MONK."

This romance, on its first appearance, roused the attention of all the literary world of England, and even spread its writer's name to the continent. The author--"wonder-working Lewis," was a stripling under twenty when he wrote _The Monk_ in the short s.p.a.ce of ten weeks! Sir Walter Scott, probably the most rapid composer of fiction upon record, hardly exceeded this, even in his latter days, when his facility of writing was the greatest.

THOMSON'S RECITATIONS.

Thomson, the author of the "Seasons," was a very awkward reader of his own productions. His patron, Doddington, once s.n.a.t.c.hed a MS. from his hand, provoked by his odd utterance, telling him that he did not understand his own verses! A gentleman of Brentford, however, told the late Dr. Evans, in 1824, that there was a tradition in that town of Thomson frequenting one of the inns there, and reciting his poems to the company.

GOLDSMITH'S "SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER."

Goldsmith, during the first performance of this comedy, walked all the time in St. James' Park in great uneasiness. Finally, when he thought that it must be over, hastening to the theatre, hisses a.s.sailed his ears as he entered the green-room. Asking in eager alarm of Colman the cause--"Pshaw, pshaw!" said Colman, "don't be afraid of squibs, when we have been sitting on a barrel of gunpowder for two hours." The comedy had completely triumphed--the audience were only hissing the after farce. Goldsmith had some difficulty in getting the piece on the stage, as appears from the following letter to Colman:--"I entreat you'll relieve me from that state of suspense in which I have been kept for a long time. Whatever objections you have made, or shall make, to my play, I will endeavour to remove, and not argue about them. To bring in any new judges either of its merits or faults, I can never submit to. Upon a former occasion, when my other play was before Mr. Garrick, he offered to bring me before Mr. Whitehead's tribunal, but I refused the proposal with indignation. I hope I shall not experience as hard treatment from you, as from him. I have, as you know, a large sum of money to make up shortly; by accepting my play, I can readily satisfy my creditor that way; at any rate, I must look about to some certainty to be prepared.

For G.o.d's sake take the play, and let us make the best of it; and let me have the same measure at least which you have given as bad plays as mine."