Chapter 10

[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 tostabthe 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,offthe stage he was a mean, sneaking little fellow. Butonthe 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.

[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 tostabthe 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,offthe stage he was a mean, sneaking little fellow. Butonthe 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.

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