THE EARLY LIFE OF JOHN HOWARD PAYNE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 'A/r Ho.DgoA^'!9l3) THE EARLY LIFE OF JOHN HOW AKl) PAYNE WIJH COx\rKMPQKAR^' LKTTRRv. , , Ijcemember him a rosy-cheeked Doy, HERETOFORE rXPt'HT ISHhD with his collar open, and tied with a r3ack ribbon. " The New York MIRROR, NcveTn- ber 24, 1832. Mr.B^heo. S. Fay, desert ng 1807, — "five and twenty years ago." A LIMITED NUMBER OF COPIES OF THIS WORK HAVE BEEN PRINTED PRIVATELY FOR THE EDITOR, FOR COMPLIMENTARY OISTRlBiniON' BOSTON — MCMXIIl acifiM s riJiw bait 6ns ,n3qo ^bIIod aid ri*rw -tti3-/Dt1 .HOHHIM jftoY waH »riT ".aoddh ;;rTidaD33b ^x^'^ -2 .oariT .iM .££8t ^I^S lad t rrrri baiacfmamsT :?r: -s an-^^q fnswoH nrfo[. ^/ YlMl ^^^'^Hn^^WiWff^'W THE EARLY LIFE OF JOHN HOWARD PAYNE WITH CONTEMPORARY LETTERS HERETOFORE UNPUBLISHED BY WILLIS T. HANSON, Jr., A.M. A LIMITED NUMBER OF COPIES OF THIS WORK HAVE BEEN PRINTED PRIVATELY FOR THE EDITOR, FOR COMPLIMENTARY DISTRIBUTION BOSTON — MCMXIII Copyright, 1913, by The Bibliophile Society THE university PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. PREFATORY NOTE IV/rY interest in the early life of John Howard Payne dates from the day when chance threw into my possession a volume of letters concerning which Payne wrote as follows: — London, August 20, 1819. I have determined this day to begin and transcribe in as regular succession as possible all the copies of letters now in my possession, although there are many which can serve no purpose but that of recalling the recollection of events by which they were produced. While several of the volumes containing his letters after 18 19 have for some time been known, the first and most important seems to have escaped even the most energetic of Payne's biographers. Transcribed with the greatest amount of care and neatness, these early letters form a volume which is truly unique. It is Payne's own story of his life, his struggles, his thoughts and his ambitions during that period of which heretofore so much has been guessed at, and so little known. Willis T. Hanson, Jr. Wil0754.5 ^ 1 <4 -Is ^" s I 0^ J r :l' "-^ 4 . ^v ^ "^s ^ v^ 4t4^i ^ -^ 'i -^ ■i V ^ -^ ^ $ ^ H ^ H^ ■^ t 1 4> ? < s \^ N (^ ^ H INTRODUCTION The perennial fame of John Howard Payne is primarily based upon his authorship of the words of that immortal song, "Home, Sweet Home." Although ninety years have passed since it was first sung by Miss Maria Tree at the Covent Garden Theater, London, this song is today perhaps the most universally known and most popular ballad in the Eng- lish language. While it is popularly supposed that, except for the writing of "Home, Sweet Home," Payne accomplished little of moment, and while there is a general tendency to brand his life a failure, such a notion is wrong, and such a tendency unjust. Payne's name is prominently associated with the early American drama. He was the first native American who as an actor or dramatist ever attracted attention in Europe, and whose plays were adopted as stock pieces at their theaters. Of the sixty-three ^ plays * Eleven Tragedies, nine Comedies, twenty-six Dramas and Melodramas, seven Operas and ten Farces. II INTRODUCTION The perennial fame of John Howard Payne is primarily based upon his authorship of the words of that immortal song, "Home, Sweet Home." Although ninety years have passed since it was first sung by Miss Maria Tree at the Covent Garden Theater, London, this song is today perhaps the most universally known and most popular ballad in the Eng- lish language. While it is popularly supposed that, except for the writing of "Home, Sweet Home," Payne accomplished little of moment, and while there is a general tendency to brand his life a failure, such a notion is wrong, and such a tendency unjust. Payne's name is prominently associated with the early American drama. He was the first native American who as an actor or dramatist ever attracted attention in Europe, and whose plays were adopted as stock pieces at their theaters. Of the sixty-three ^ plays ^ Eleven Tragedies, nine Comedies, twenty-six Dramas and Melodramas, seven Operas and ten Farces. II written by him, four ^ were among the great- est successes of their day. Although Payne's work was mainly adaptive, none the less is credit due to his master hand. How great was his skill may be seen in the case of the best known of his plays, the poetic tragedy, Brutus, or the Fall of Tarquin. From seven plays upon the subject of Brutus — only two of which had been thought capable of repre- sentation, and those two marked failures — Payne evolved a tragedy which, produced by Edmund Kean in 1818, met with instant suc- cess and held the stage until into the seventies. Played in America by such renowned actors as McCullough, Edwin Forrest and Edwin Booth, Brutus seems worthy to hold its place with the best of the tragedies of the period. Throughout his life Payne was abused for opinions which he did not utter, and perse- cuted for errors which he did not commit. ^ Brutus; or. The Fall of Tarquin. A tragedy first pro- duced at Drury Lane Theater, London, December 3, 1818. Therese; or. The Orphan of Geneva. A drama, first pro- duced at Drury Lane Theater, London, February 2, 1821. Clari; or, The Maid of Milan. An opera, first produced at Covent Garden Theater, London, May 8, 1823. Charles the Second; or, The Merry Monarch. A comedy, first produced at Covent Garden Theater, London, May 27 1824. 12 To all attacks Payne maintained a charitable silence, confining his sufferings to himself. Even now, sixty years after his death, these baseless accusations still detract from his well- merited fame. "Whatever may have been his life, his suc- cesses, his disappointments, or his character, no poet, actor, editor, or consul was ever laid to rest with higher honors" ^ than when on June 9, 1883, thirty-one years after his death, the remains of John Howard Payne were brought — Back to the bosom of his own loved land, — Back to his kindred, friends, his own Sweet Home,^ and reinterred in Oak Hill Cemetery, Wash- ington, D. C. It is my intention in the following pages to trace the life of John Howard Payne to the commencement of the year 1813, when he found it advisable to leave America to seek his fortune in England. To this period in Payne's life we should look for the more noteworthy incidents of his ^ Life and Writings of John Howard Payne. G. Harrison. Pg- 293. 2 From the poem read at the unveiling of the Payne mon- ument at Oak Hill Cemetery. 13 career. The accomplishments of John How- ard Payne — the Man, although to the world better known, seem in no degree so remark- able as his early accomplishments, and with this feeling I have made every effort to bring to light the ambitions, acts, and very thoughts of John Howard Payne — the Youth. 14 ■ ^ ►< 1 > w > '< O s > ^ ^"-r h^ < O >Ll 0) t— t o t$ ro z it 1— f w u a 3 s u C 03 «— « u , o* IS Qd >•* ►< Ul to > J^ o hQ o B" u u /^ a Q o > 5' G O s O career. The acco mplis ;h-- ; Huh- ard Payne — the Man, e world better known, seem in remark- able as his early accor 7 ^ and V. this feeling I havt ' Tl rl to hi to light the anribitioiL., . , .- .^ . .ry thout,rii. of John Ho\var < Z HH ^^ •^ Q!^ o\ >. O '"' % CO 4^ U •"" c S C a> 3 u u •— » CO 2 •o . >^ ■*-• (L) < CO jy 0. u •3 3 Q Q O c < o O c D X z X o 14 EARLY LIFE OF JOHN HOWARD PAYNE John Howard Payne, the sixth of a family of nine children, was born in the city of New York, at No. 33 Pearl Street, on the ninth of June, 1791.^ He was the son of William Payne, by his second wife, Sarah Isaacs, whose father — a convert from the Jewish faith, a man of good education, much respected, and of some means — had settled at East Hampton, Long Island, many years previous to the Revo- lution. On his father's side especially, John Howard Payne was well connected. His pater- nal ancestors were of English blood. Judge Robert Treat Paine, of Boston, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and Robert Treat Paine, Jr., a poet of no mean ability, were of the same family, as was Dolly Payne, wife of President Madison. Soon after his marriage to Sarah Isaacs, in ^ There have been many mis-statements as to the year of Payne's birth. Many articles regarding him, and most ency- clopedias, give the year as 1792. Mr. Harrison writes at some length to give proof that the year should be 1791, and this year is now generally accepted as the correct one. IS 1780, Mr. Payne was placed at the head of the Clinton Academy, just erected at East Hampton. His already recognized reputa- tion as an instructor was greatly augmented during the several years that he remained there as principal. The reputation thus acquired was not lost sight of during the period of William Payne's residence in New York, following his removal from East Hampton, and led to his being chosen to direct an institution at Boston, later known as the Berry Street Academy. To take up the duties of his new office, he moved with his family to Boston, in 1796. The frequent visits of the child John Howard to his mother's old home^ at East Hampton during the residence of the Paynes in New York, — "the birds and the lambkins that came at his call," — made a never to be forgotten impression on the youthful mind. "The lowly, thatched cottage" was always his "Home, Sweet Home!" ^ The Payne Cottage is now owned by Mr. G. H. Buek. Tradition has woven a great deal of romance about the Cot- tage, but it seems to rest on a very feeble hypothesis. There are no records to show that Payne ever lived in the house,, although he undoubtedly paid frequent visits to his relatives in East Hampton. (Thatcher T. P. Luquer.) 16 With his removal to Boston the education of young Payne began in earnest. It must have been by close application that he ac- quired the remarkable store of knowledge exhibited at the age of twelve, when as we are told he was able "to support the conversa- tion, and to perform the duties and transac- tions of maturity." ^ His progress was the more remarkable as for two or three years previous to this period a nervous complaint had practically unfitted him for profound study. In spite of his studies and ailments Payne seems to have entered into boyish sports with a zest, — in fact he became a leader in the school, and outside. At twelve we find him familiarly known as "Captain Payne," be- cause of a little military organization which he founded, and which attracted attention throughout Boston. Payne's father owed much of his reputa- tion as a teacher to his skill in elocution. Young Payne took great interest in this branch of study. He was encouraged by his father who saw in it a means of transferring ^ Memoirs of John Howard Payne, the American Roscius. London, 1815. Pg. 2. 17 his attention from too serious study to a course of work better adapted to his physical improvement. How different would have been his father's attitude had he foreseen the result of his encouragement and instruction, which coupled with his son's ability soon rendered him most proficient in the art of declamation. During the winter of 1 804-1 805, the Betty- mania in England was at its height. Two years previous, William Henry West Betty at the age of eleven years made his debut at Belfast in the tragedy of Zara. The novelty of the enterprise drew a crowd, — "the crowd applauded, and wondered, other crowds suc- ceeded, and the * wonder grew.'" ^ The fame of young Betty spread like wildfire. Stirred by the reports of this prodigy that found their way across the Atlantic, and encouraged by the noticeable success which he himself had attained in recitation, declamation, and in small plays given at the school, young Payne was seized with the desire to emulate the career of Betty and become the Young Roscius of America. A distinguished actor * Memoirs of the Life of George Frederick Cooke. Wm. Dunlap. New York. 1813. Vol. i. Pg. 326. 18 in Boston who had seen Payne conceived a like idea and broached the subject to the elder Payne, offering to take charge of his son. We can well imagine the effect of such an offer. Never had the father suspected the desire that was smouldering in his son's breast, unwittingly kindled by the very lines of study which he himself had so conscien- tiously recommended and taught to him. In general alarm, the elder Payne and his friends attempted by every known means to discourage the idea of the Stage. A theatri- cal tendency, however, seems to have been born in Payne, and once aroused it was not to be put down. When he was forbidden to think of acting he managed in some way to see most of the principal players performing in Boston and satisfied himself for the time by writing criticisms which, on their merit, were gladly accepted by the newspapers. In the capacity of critic, Payne at this time became acquainted with Samuel Wood- worth, later distinguished as the author of the song, "The Old Oaken Bucket." Wood- worth, a boy of about Payne's age, was engaged in learning the printer's trade. He found time, however, to publish a little paper 19 of his own called The Fly, and in this ven- ture Payne became associated with him. Payne was now in his thirteenth year. He had been successful in various boyish en- terprises, he was a contributor to the papers of the day, and was already attracting more than usual attention. His development had been rapid. We find him occupied by in- terests which are at the present day far be- yond the well-informed young man of twenty. Interesting, as indicative of this early develop- ment, are portions of one of the earliest of his letters extant, written to Miss Maria Theresa Gold, and dated February i, 1804, in which he details, in a most amusing manner, "a brief view of the chit-chat of the day." ^ — "The most recent and perhaps one of the most calamitous occurrences which have lately taken place, is a fire which has consumed the whole property of the editors of your favorite little paper, the Magazine, with cash, not their own, to the amount of two thousand ^ All quotations from letters, unless otherwise noted, are from the Payne Letter Book, now in the possession of the writer, or from original letters in the library of Union College, access to which was granted the writer by the courtesy of the college authorities. 20 dollars! They had acquired by their labours (and hard labours too), a handsome compe- tency, and held no humble place in the Temple of Fortune. But at one blow, they and their families are stripped of their resources and embarrassed with a heavy debt. Unhappy men! — Some of our citizens have suggested a subscription for their relief. It is probable that in a short time it will render them some valuable aid. "The town has for a few weeks past been all in a ferment respecting a proposal for en- larging it by adding a part of Dorchester, and building a connecting bridge across the river. The curiosity excited, as well as the more actuating sensibilities of interest, at the great town meeting produced a scene which was highly entertaining to those who loved to see the effect of the ruling passions. I think it came fairly to the following description of the laughter-exciting McFingal: — Each listening ear was set on torture, While all were bellowing out, " To order^^ — And some, with tongue not low or weak. Were clam'ring fast for leave to speak. The Moderator, with great vi'lence, The cushion thump'd, with "Silence-Silence" 21 The constable to ev'ry prater Bawl'd out, ^^ Pray hear the moderator ^^ — Some call'd the vote, and some in turn Were screaming high, ^^ Adjourn-Adjourn^^ — Not chaos heard such jars and clashes, When all the el'ments fought for places ! "But, to quit this subject, what think you of the prevailing taste for dress ? The papers tell us that Madame Jerome Bonaparte, who adds much to the gaiety of the fashionable and polite circles at Washington, notwith- standing the inclemency of the season, is drest so airily that one may put all her clothes into a snuff box! ! — I should think it required a very lively fancy to keep one warm in such a dress — but newspapers are apt to exaggerate. "The taste for amusement does not lessen here. The public places are increasing. I do not know that they will become more numer- ous than the churches, but I very much fear that they will be more numerously attended." On March 24, 1804, occurred the death of William Osborn, Payne's elder brother, who had been the junior partner of the firm of Forbes & Payne, a mercantile house in New 22 York. Here seemed a solution of the problem that was vexing the elder Payne. A mercan- tile career was decided upon as a means of turning in another direction the energies and thoughts which John Howard was directing to the Stage, The decision was not made hastily, and the idea evidently met with much opposition on the part of young Payne, as not until November of the following year were the home ties broken and he set out for New York to learn the business of his late brother under the direction of the surviving partner, Mr. Forbes. It is evident that Mr. Forbes had received definite instructions from Payne's father to watch carefully for any noticeable inclina- tion on the part of his son toward the theater, and to nip it in the bud. It is also evident that from the very first the means adopted by Forbes for the accomplishment of this end were so unsuited to the temperament of Payne that instead of decreasing his interest in the Stage they rather forced him to turn toward it for whatever interest and pleasure he was to get out of the unhappy position in which he found himself. A letter of Payne written to his father on 23 December 12, 1805, soon after his establish- ment in New York is of interest. Granting that the first touches of homesickness coupled with an extremely sensitive nature magnified to some degree the errors of judgment and the sledge-hammer tactics of Mr. Forbes, we can feel only sympathy for the boy in a posi- tion so foreign to his tastes and desires. — "I am now almost a fortnight without advices of any kind from Boston, and this has served to heighten the gloom of my present situation, which I assure you is even more tedious than I anticipated. "Distinct from those sensations which ever attend so entire a change of situation as mine has been, circumstances have occurred to render it almost insupportably burthensome. There was something in the manner and con- duct of Mr. Forbes from the first which struck me very forcibly. I have, with all my faults, a heart, perhaps too feeling for this world, and which may possibly betray me into mis- conceptions; but of this I am certain, with Mr. Forbes I never can he happy, " I will relate some instances of marked In- attention. When I landed at Mr. Forbes's 24 from the stage, he was not at home, but when he returned, he ran in, embraced Mrs. Sturgis and was very lively and appeared very happy to see her and her husband. After this, he turned round to me, and without passing any of the customary civilities said, 'Have you brought any letters.?' with an air of rough- ness. I remained there till dinner was over, when he (notwithstanding your request and mine) sent me to the store, where I was set to writing and detained till late night, very laboriously employed; which, added to the fatigues of the day, made me excessively tired. However, on repeating my request, I had from Monday morning to Wednesday for myself, which was occupied in executing little commissions for Mrs. Sturgis, etc., but about six o'clock on Wednesday Mr. Forbes sent a messenger to Mrs. Saltonstall's to ask how I came to absent myself so long from the store, and requiring my immediate presence there. I obeyed the summons and on my arrival Mr. Forbes said that he had not seen me for a long time, and asked where I had been. I gave him a correct account and added that I had his leave of absence; also that I had been unwell (of which I am not yet 25 recovered) and that delayed my coming. He said nothing, but detained me 'til late in the store. I afterwards was led to suspect his motive, which was that ^a young gentleman^ was advertised to make his first appearance at the theater, which he probably supposed must be me! ! I have since been kept hard at work, — prohibited, under the most strict orders, every amusement and denied even the possibility of obtaining the means for indulg- ing in any sort of recreation. "This evening I had a newspaper which I purchased on account of some things which it contained interesting to me, and Mr. Forbes finding it on a window seat near me — * Whose paper is this?' said he to Mr. Chew. * I believe it is Mr. Payne's,' was the answer. 'John's!' said he, — then turning to me — 'John, how came you by this paper?' 'I purchased it, Sir.' 'Who gave you money?' 'It was some that I had of my own.' 'How came you to purchase it?' 'I was sensible of no impropriety in pur- chasing a newspaper, Sir,' said I, 'and I got it on account of an address it contained of 26 the Misses Hodgkinson, which was spoken at their benefit.' ^ Here I touch'd the vibrat- ing chord — the Theater! and I was soundly- rated for it. That you n/iay be convinced of its not being an improper paper to read, I will inform you that it was only Cole- man's very celebrated Evening Post, or Daily Advertiser. "I assure you that I wait with the great- est impatience to hear from you, to be ad- vised how to act. Now I am truly wretched ! / had anticipated as much, but now 'tis real- ised. I would, however, say that it hurts me to write, as much as it must you to read, this account. Mr. Forbes is to others kind and gentle — to me inattentive and almost insolent. I am willing to pursue the mer- cantile profession, or any one you may choose. Mr. I. Sturgis, for instance, would be such a master as I should prefer, and could I occasionally, for amusement, indulge in the- atrical essays, 'twould render a situation with such a man the most desirable thing to me on earth. "One thing more. Mr. Chew, for some ^ Payne afterwards reprinted this in the Mirror. See fac-similes following page 164 of this volume. 27 things I had done for him, made me a pres- ent of a dollar, which Mr. Forbes discover- ing, reprimanded him, saying he should not be so intimate with me. I was very unwell the other evening with a sick headache, pain in bowels, &c, but Mr. Forbes would not allow me to leave store, and when I went away late told me that I 'must get well against morning.' On Sunday (being leisure) I have requested Mrs. Saltonstall to give me the rhu- barb and calomel, which I feel the need of." Payne's father and brother had made many friends in New York, and these friends were not slow in coming forward and bestowing "great attentions" on John Howard. The elder Payne had not counted in vain upon the assistance of these friends in turning the mind of his son from his ideas of the Stage. That their influence was exerted at the very start is shown in a letter of December 20, 1805, from Payne to Robert T. Paine, Jr.,^ not more than a month after his arrival. — ^ Payne seems to have had a strong admiration for Robert Treat Paine, Jr., and to have carried on a corre- spondence with him until the death of the latter in 1811. Robert Treat Paine, Jr., was at this time thirty-two years of age; or eighteen years the senior of John Howard, and it is 28 "My situation in this city Is not that which a few months since I had contemplated. The prejudices of my friends against the Stage have induced me in deference to their superior judgment to gaze no longer on its pleasures. I may no longer fancy myself a theatrical hero — enough that I know the honor of being a Merchants Apprentice — perhaps another Dick! In my humble opin- ion, however, the poor drama is unwarrant- ably abused. Like other — indeed, all — professions, it has its unworthy servants; and I know not why it should have, or whether it truly has, more disreputable followers than most of the other branches of civilized society." His resolution, however, seems to have been far from decisive, for but six days later, on December 26, In a long letter to his father, he writes : — "My situation grows easier. I shall not relax my endeavors to please, but I acknowl- edge that such unremitted application does interesting to find Payne thus prefacing the letter quoted: "From the letters of one whose pen has so often called forth the admiration of the world, I anticipate no little im- provement; and in the friendship of one, whose friendship would to any one be an honor, I promise myself no little enjoyment." 29 not perfectly agree with my health, being very frequently subject to those turns of dizziness which I had sometime ago. I attrib- ute this, however, to my not having taken any medicine, as I intended; and on account of one of these turns a few days since which lasted me near ten minutes I have resolved to treat myself to some rhubarb and calomel on Sunday. "Mr. Forbes is, believe me, very distant; but I find on studying him that it is his natural disposition. He makes use of every expedient to keep me from the Theater; and on every play night makes it a point regularly to give me business enough to last till about nine o'clock.^ This, however, is nothing very serious. I only note it that you may see his course. "You are well acquainted with my pre- possession for the Stage; and you probably know, my dear Father, that as often as the passion has burst into a flame, so often I strove to suppress it; but though my exer- tions have been partially successful, I cannot eradicate it entirely. A term of three years ^ In his theatrical criticisms printed in the Mirror, Payne frequently said that he arrived late at the theater. 30 has witnessed the fact; and after many schemes for the indulgence of my object and after reflecting during the space of a fortnight upon it, after mature deliberation, I have pitched upon the following resolution: "In case I get liberty from home to appear on the boards of this city (say in any case not more than once per week), and so regulated as not to interfere with other concerns, I will positively relinquish all pretensions to follow it professionally, and apply with all possible diligence to my present pursuit. It is, I assure you, the partial indulgence of this desire in Boston that kept me so long con- tented from following it more publickly. "To enforce my request I would refer you to many instances in which such indulgences have been suppressed by those opposed by prejudice against the profession, and have had a serious termination. "I can get such an engagement here as would agree with my plan and yield a hand- some profit, which I should insist on devoting to the use of the family. "I had hoped, but without success, to con- tent me without this, but I find it after much struggling absolutely impossible. 31 "Could you send me a little money to purchase me a tooth brush, get my hair cut, &c, — as from the tenor of what has been hinted by Mr. Forbes, I find he is not disposed to give me any pocket money; and this, you observed to me, you expected would be the case." In Boston, when Payne had been deprived of his favorite amusement he had had re- course to his pen; so. In New York, when he found a like condition awaiting him he de- cided to meet It as he had in Boston; and on December 28, 1805, anonymously appeared the first number of a little weekly publica- tion, entitled the Thespian Mirror,'^ printed for the Editor by Southwick and Hardcastle, No. 2 Wall Street. As noted in his Introduction, It was the purpose of the Editor in presenting the sheet to the "enlightened citizens of New York," to exhibit "a specimen in matter and manner of a work, which on sufficient encouragement, would be Issued in the metropolis; the work ^ The Thespian Mirror was issued on Saturday evenings. The publication was of octavo size, and well printed on good paper. 32 to comprehend a collection of Interesting documents relative to the stage, and Its performers; chiefly Intended to promote the interests of the American drama, and to erad- icate false impressions respecting the nature, objects, design and tendency of theatrical AMUSEMENTS." It had at first been Payne's plan to issue a literary paper, and without communicating his plan he had composed a prospectus for a publication to be known as the Pastime, in- tended for the perusal of youth only. After some reflection, considering the existing num- ber of papers called "literary," and believ- ing the habits of the citizens of New York — as stated in No. XIV of the Thespian Mir- ror'^ "better calculated to encourage a work more intimately connected with the prevail- ing thirst for pleasure," he had recourse to his favorite topic, and struck the plan of the Thespian Mirror. He seems to have secured pecuniary supplies which enabled him to enter upon the work; the printers were ap- plied to; and it was but three days from the moment of the first projection to that of 1 Thespian Mirror^ Number XIV. See facsimile in back of this volume. 33 publication — a period more inconsiderable when it is remembered that the only time at his command was before eight in the morn- ing and after eight in the evening. Three young gentlemen, two of them fellow clerks in the store, were alone entrusted with the secret. Following the issue of the first number a few subscribers appeared and such compli- mentary notice ^ was given to the Mirror by the newspapers that Payne was encouraged to proceed. During the week a note appeared In the Evening Post apologizing for the delay of "Criticus" in reviewing the Thespian Mirror. Several errors had appeared in the first * Letter to his father, February lo, 1806: — "I enclose, according to your request, the other paper of this city in which the remarks on the Mirror appeared. These were the first ever published; being inserted a month before Mr. Coleman's appeared. Paragraphs have been inserted in almost all the papers of the United States, — the most flattering and detailed of which were in the Political Register^ edited by Mayor Jackson, Philadelphia; — Port Folio, same place; — Albany Centinel; — Federal Gazette, Baltimore; — Balance, Hudson; — Daily Advertiser, Philadelphia, etc., etc. Had I these, they should be at once yours, but I have only had a simple glance at them, when in another person's posses- sion. The purport of the whole is pretty much the same as Mr. Coleman's, and I assure you nothing has yet appeared which is otherwise than complimentary." 34 number, but had escaped the notice of the papers. The word "Criticus" seems to have struck terror to the heart of the young editor; — a critical article on his work was promised, and he felt that it would lay bare all the little errors of his work and set at naught the so far favorable comments. In fear he hurried to the counting room, and sent the following note to Mr. William Cole- man, the editor of the Post: — "The editor of the Thespian Mirror, hav- ing observed a note in the Post of this even- ing, promising some remarks on his work, would like the liberty of asking Mr. Coleman whether they are or are not in favor of the publication.'* He makes this request, which may appear singular, on account of some in- accuracies which crept into the first number through entire accident; and which, though by the community they might pass unnoticed, would not probably escape the attention of the Criticus. He would further observe that though his extreme youth, being under the age of fourteen, might in the eyes of many be considered sufficient to deter him from an undertaking of such magnitude, it was com- 35 menced with a laudable design, and as some apology for its errors, was an unassisted attempt." "I perused the note," writes Mr. Coleman in the New York Evening Post of January 24, 1805, "a second time and it will not, I think, be considered strange or harsh that I was incredulous to the story of the writer's youth. I turned to his paper, and my credulity was by no means lessened. It was difficult to be- lieve that a boy of thirteen years of age could possibly possess such strength and maturity of intellect." In spite of his skepticism Mr. Coleman's curiosity was aroused, and his answer to Payne's note was as follows : ^ — "Mr. Coleman is sorry to be compelled to answer the editor of the Thespian Mirror in a manner unpleasant to him; but he has to inform him that the remarks on the Thespian Mirror are unfavourable; and he will in candor add that Criticus was detained, that his remarks might be still further extended ^ Thespian Mirror, Number XIV. 36 and enforced by himself, and at the same time that proper and approbatory notice might be taken by him, in the same article, of the Theatrical Censor, of Philadelphia, a work of unusual merit. "The note of the editor of the Thespian Mirror, mentioning the extreme youth of the writer, must disarm him of severity; and he would be glad to see the juvenile author at his house, to take tea with him this evening. No. 30, Hudson street. Perhaps the visit may not be unserviceable to this young gentleman in his future progress." Payne accepted the invitation, but his duties in the counting room detained him until so late an hour that when he arrived Mr. Coleman had gone out. Payne returned in the morning, and this time was more suc- cessful. Of the meeting and of his impres- sions Mr. Coleman writes in the same article in the Post: — "I conversed with him for an hour; in- quired into his history — the time since he came to reside in this city — he told me he was a native of New York, but was taken 37 when an infant to Boston — and his object in setting on foot the publication in ques- tion. His answers were such as to dispel all doubts as to any imposition, and I found that it required an effort on my part to keep up the conversation in as choice a style as his own." It was Mr. Coleman's advice that Payne give up at once his project of the Mirror. Besides the want of time for it, without tax- ing his hours of sleep at the certain expense of his health, it seemed objectionable as "encouraging a turn of thinking very in- compatible with mercantile pursuits and which could have no other consequence than to unfit him for the prosecution of business by rendering it an object of perpetual disgust." To Mr. Coleman's advice — perhaps from a certain sense of vanity, the result of his partial success — Payne turned a deaf ear; and on his refusal, Mr. Coleman in admira- tion volunteered his services in aid of the undertaking. That the Mirror might become better known and appreciated because of the youth- fulness of its editor, with Payne's acquies- 38 cence, Mr. Coleman in the Evening Post of January 24, placed before the public the facts regarding its publication, and of his meeting and connection with the editor. Possibly fearing his family's censure and disapproval, Payne had kept them in igno- rance of his literary venture. With the pub- lication of Mr. Coleman's article, conceal- ment was no longer possible, and a few days later he writes to his father: — "I have fiot yet informed you that I am concerned in a little periodical publication here, entitled the Thespian Mirror. I should have told you of it at a much earlier period of my progress, — but I waited to ascertain whether it would meet with that encourage- ment which I am happy to say it has done. The calculation made is for 500 subscribers at $2\ and that number may augment; but at any rate, after deducting the expenses from ^1000, something will remain. That * something,' which cannot prove inconsider- able, will be devoted to the purposes of the family." Mr. Coleman's fears had been well founded. Payne's aversion to the counting house in- 39 creased in proportion to his success and in- terest in the literary field. "Bacon has somewhere observed," ^ he writes to his father, "choose for your son that employment which you consider most proper, and habit will render it the most agreeable. Generally speaking, the idea may be a very feasible one, but as respects my- self, I doubt the propriety of its application. The profession which has been chosen for me is one whose constraints I can by no means tolerate. My habits, my wishes, my inclina- tions, are all opposed to the mercantile life. In deference to your judgment I never before expressed my opinion of the choice which it has made. I hoped to reconcile myself to it and I made the effort. The effort has been made, and I am now more thoroughly dis- gusted at the mercantile life than ever." Payne seems to have firmly believed that he had made a conscientious effort to follow out his father's wishes toward fitting himself for a mercantile life, yet from the day of his arrival in New York his mind and interests * Essays of Francis Bacon, Number VII. Payne is some- what confused as to Bacon's idea. 40 were elsewhere. If he remained at the count- ing house for twelve hours a day and did the work allotted to him it was only as an autom- aton. Aside from the attention necessarily given to the weekly issues of the Mirror^ he further increased his outside activities by writing a play. The curiosity and wonder with which Payne was regarded ^ was suffi- cient justification for the production of Julia, or the Wanderer, A Comedy in Five Acts, at the Park Theater on February 7, 1806. This ^ A portion of a communication, dated New York, Feb- ruary 4, 1806, and subsequently inserted in the Philadelphia Port-Folio gives us a clear picture of Payne at this time, and of the position accorded him as the result of his literary enter- prise, — "Our fashionables are all awake to the sudden ap- pearance of a youth, who may justly be styled a ' lustrous [sic] naturae.' . . . acquaintances have become his friends, and every one is impatient to know him; until the little editor of the Thespian Mirror is almost the only topic of fashionable table-talk. This miraculous youth, whose per- sonal acquaintance I was among the first to be honored with, possesses a person short for one of his age, yet well propor- tioned and graceful; a large blue eye of unusual sweetness and expression; and a complexion of the most susceptible delicacy. The * toute [sic] ensemble ' of his features is dis- crimination and intelligence, added to a vivid consciousness, which is a language to his most latent emotions. His voice is music itself. His conversation is elevated and refined, and his writings, of which the public has yet seen but hasty and imperfect specimens, possess a freedom from affectation, and a strength and maturity of character." 41 play, published the same year, thus becomes the first published separate writing of Payne; for the Mirror, while edited by him, con- tained many contributions from friends.^ It may be possible that Payne, in defiance of his father's wishes, intended making his appearance on the stage during the latter part of January, but was induced by his friends to give it up. Rumor had it that the editor of the Mirror was to appear at the Park Theater as Don Carlos in the Duenna. A large and fashionable audience awaited his appearance, only to be disappointed, while the "Editor" himself in the audience was enjoying the scene. The incident, while amusing, must have been highly gratifying to Payne. The next issue of the Mirror, that of February i, contained the following note: ^ Mr. Harrison expresses the opinion that the poems con- tained in the Mirror while attributed to contributors, were undoubtedly written by the Editor himself. A letter of Payne to his father, dated February lo, 1806, shows Mr. Harrison to be incorrect in his surmise. — "You will find in No. 7, some excellent poetry by Clara, a greatly celebrated writer here, — her name, Mrs. Rose. Lodinus is Mr. Blauvelt, an intimate of mine. The Lorenzo acknowledged in Notes to Readers and Correspondents in No. 7, is, I understand, Cook Mulligan, your old scholar, who has repeatedly called upon me." 42 "The Editor of the Mirror was not a little amused on hearing it whispered throughout the boxes, on this occasion, that he was to impersonate Don Carlos in the Duenna; and his amusement was somewhat heightened on the entrance of the expected novitiate. ^ A pretty strapping boy, however,^ exclaimed one — ^pretty tall of his age,'' said another. The Editor begs leave to inform those who still labor under this unfortunate mistake — that he really was not the Don Carlos of Monday Evening! ! ! " Mr, Coleman had not been slow to appre- ciate the wonderful mind of John Howard Payne, and the possibilities of its develop- ment. He had been captivated at the first meeting, and his interest thus aroused, con- tinued to increase. It became his particular care to find means for giving Payne a liberal education. Through the medium of the Post, Mr. Coleman had made a public appeal in behalf of his young friend, hoping to interest someone in the matter. The appeal was not without result, for Payne writes to his father on February lo: — "It was mentioned to me, but not directly from the parties concerned, that the Profes- 43 sors of Columbia College have had a meet- ing, in which it has been agreed to give me my education gratis, excepting the expense of books, which is estimated at ^35 for the whole time." It was the wish of Mr. Coleman, as ex- pressed in a letter of January 21, 1806, to Payne's father, that a fund be established, "by the liberality of a few private gentle- men," to give Payne a college education and have him finish with a law course; or in failure of this project, to find him a situation in some lawyer's office under some gentleman, "whose character, situation, connection and professional celebrity would be security for his having every advantage both mental and moral and in whose family he could reside." By personal solicitation, Mr. Coleman had partially interested in the establishment of such a fund, "Dr. Hosack, Judge Pendleton, Mr. Wilkins, and a number of gentlemen of equal respectability and fortune," ^ when on the twenty-ninth, he laid his plans before Payne's father: — ' Payne to his father, January 31, 1806. 44 " Altho I have not the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with you, yet I am to presume that the subject of my address will in itself convey an apology for the informality of a letter from an entire stranger. — "As you probably will have seen the Even- ing Post of Friday and Saturday last before this reaches you, it renders it quite unneces- sary for me here to express the admiration and the warm regard I feel for your wonder- ful son; as amiable in disposition, ingenuous in behavior, correct in sentiment as wonderful in talents. I have to lament the want of those means which could justify me in pro- posing to take him home and give him such an education as he is by his rare capacity entitled to. My proportion of this world's goods is however as scanty as my disposition is otherwise. My earnest desire to do some- thing for the lad and to procure for him a better situation than the drudgery and dull- ness of a counting house, with which I found him disgusted on my first acquaintance, led me to look abroad for some patron whose ability might be equal to his liberality. Be- fore anything decisive can be attempted, however, I consider it due to you. Sir, and 45 every way proper and necessary that you should be consulted and your paternal ap- probation obtained." Before sending the letter to his father, Mr. Coleman had handed it to Payne for inspec- tion — a letter "which was not only a piece of politeness," writes Payne to his father in commenting upon it, "equally unexpected and undeserved, but a flattering assurance of disinterested friendship which had not once entered my ideas." While the proposal of Mr. Coleman offered a means of obtaining that education which Payne had hoped for as an end to fixing his attention on some vocation where he could indulge his taste for literature he did not at once signify his intention of accepting it. "Would it not be nobler to work for my living ? " he writes to his father. "Would there not be more satisfaction in knowing that I sup- ported myself, and not contract obligations to gentlemen to whom I am, as it were, a stranger, — and which in all probability I should never be able to repay. To effect, therefore, this object by my own exertions would it not be well to continue the Mirror, 46 which will pay my board and clothing, leav- ing me $200 clear of all expenses, which alone might be made useful to the family. Board can be had at ^3.50 pr. wk, being pr. an ^182. Other expenses could not exceed 118. $300. Therefore, the proceeds of the paper, yielding S^O- Would leave a balance of . . . $200." While Payne was writing these rather ad- mirable sentiments he was approached by Mr. John E. Seaman, "a merchant of the first respectability in the city." Mr. Seaman, well known for his philanthropy, had been a "very particular friend" of his brother Wil- liam, and because of this friendship he was led to take more than a passing interest in the affairs of John Howard, and to offer at this juncture to "support him till of age in any profession of respectability which he might prefer." Mr. Seaman — captivated by Payne, as were all who came in contact with him — and carried away by his enthusi- asm, must have painted a very attractive picture in making his proposal. Certain it is that Payne, perhaps feeling that the friend- 47 ship between his late brother and Mr. Sea- man placed the latter a little nearer to him than the others who had volunteered their assistance, and conceiving from the circum- stance of this friendship that Mr. Seaman had a superior claim upon him, cast to the winds his ideas of self-support, and at once accepted the proposal, contingent only upon his fa- ther's consent. With "feelings struggling between con- tending emotions and wishes, and the melan- choly determination" to do what was best for all, even at the expense of pride, the elder Payne consented to accept the proffered aid of Mr. Seaman. Having obtained this consent Mr. Seaman began to lay his plans for the future. We can see to what extent his enthusiasm carried him when we find him at once proposing to adopt Payne, subject to the ideas of his father, and to consider him in all respects his son. "Should he ever marry and have children he would in his eventual provision for them put his adopted son on exactly the same footing with the rest. Should he never marry, then he would make him his heir." Mr. Coleman was delighted that aid had 48 been secured for his young friend, yet in the enthusiasm of Mr. Seaman and in the arrange- ments proposed for adoption he felt that things were moving too rapidly for safety. *' Somehow I have a sort of lurking disinclina- tion about my heart — whether it proceeds from an excess of affection for this sweet boy or is the conclusion of my best judgment I do not exactly know — but methinks I would rather defer the period of adoption till after your son shall have completed his studies, and become ready to shape his course in the world — then Mr. Seaman will have less opening to complain of disappointment in his ultimate views, and by that time your son and yourself will have acquired an intimate knowledge of him not yet to be expected. I mean a knowledge of his temper, disposition, views, wishes, &c, &c, in short everything about him that can be brought to bear on the happiness of one so dear to you and to me and to us all." In compliance with the wish of Mr. Seaman, Payne now consented to abandon the publica- tion of the Mirror. Two months before when Mr. Coleman endeavored to influence him to 49 this end he had been met with a stubborn re- fusal. When several more numbers appeared, Payne saw that Mr. Coleman had been right, and his ready acquiescence In the wish of Mr. Seaman was perhaps Influenced by this realiza- tion. Writing on October 28, to the editor of the Troy Gazette, Payne thus comments on his work : — "My Thespian Mirror Is hardly worth your notice, but I request your acceptance of the volume accompanying this. It may amuse some unemployed moments, and per- haps the errors of youth may be buried in the bosom of friendship. "Born as it was and nurtured in the midst of Invoices and accounts, it partook not a little of the crudity of the merchant's Letter Book. The miscellany is as particolored as a French milliner's holiday suit, and has seen, perhaps, as variegated a career as any thing of the same nature ever yet did before It. "I was not equal to the task which I under- took, and I freely acknowledge my weakness." The thirteenth, and last, regular number of the Thespian Mirror appeared on March 50 22, i8o6. In the editor's address, announc- ing the discontinuance of the enterprise, and giving the plans of the editor for the future, the name of John Howard Payne appears in the publication for the first time. Payne seems to have caught Mr. Seaman's enthusiasm, and in proportion as he came to lean toward him, he drifted away from Mr. Coleman. In the above mentioned address, while remarking upon the arrangements made for his future education Payne tactlessly makes no mention of the large part played by Mr. Coleman, attributing his good fortune solely to Mr. Seaman. Mr. Coleman noticed the number containing the address, in a subse- quent issue of the Post. Reports came to Payne that Mr. Coleman had ''expressed prejudicial insinuations against him," and had endeavored to injure him in the opinion of Mr. Seaman. The sparks of indignation burst into a flame, and Payne hastened to Mr. Coleman demanding an explanation. (( I said nothing of himself personally," writes Payne, in explaining the affair to his father, "but assured him that from a friend I had heard that some one had uttered such SI Insinuations. I spoke of the baseness of the act — to injure me with a patron, and situated as I was with Mr. Seaman, — I told him that If true, mankind ought to regret the existence of such a character. I then made some remarks on his showing a letter of mine to Mr. Seaman, to which he only replied that he believed I saw things through a very distorted medium. I told him, * distorted' as the me- dium might be I was always awake to Injury; and that I should be glad to have some advice as to any further procedures against a person so base and so hypocritical. He told me, with the consciousness of guilt upon his face, that as he did not know what I was talking about he could hold no conversation upon the subject; and asked me to come to his house as Mrs. Coleman wanted to see me. I bade him good morning and we parted. I have casually met him since; have called on Mrs. Coleman, but have had no particular interviews." The misunderstanding between Payne and Mr. Coleman, from whatever causes brought about, was regrettable In the extreme, and in Payne's attitude we find the first public 52 exhibition of that quick and fiery temper that was later to cause him so much trouble. Six days previous to the issue of the thir- teenth number of the Mirror, Payne — at the instance of Mr. Seaman — left for Boston to pay a visit to his parents before taking up in earnest the new career before him. In considering the various attainments of John Howard Payne at this period we should not lose sight of the fact that he had not reached his fifteenth birthday. He had al- ready become a person of prominence. At- tentions were showered upon him, the papers were filled with accounts of his accomplish- ments, and he was on terms of intimacy with most of the literati and persons of impor- tance in the first social circles of New York. On February 14, 1806, Mr. Seaman wrote to Payne's father that he was "apprehensive that he might become intoxicated with the flattering and continued attentions shown him, and that he might sink his love of study into the more fascinating but less substantial charms of society." For this reason he feared to enter Payne in one of the seminaries in the city. Princeton College was therefore chosen. "There," said Mr. Seaman, "being S3 free from the seducing and baleful vices of a large commercial city like New York, he could pursue his studies with uninterrupted ardor." Mr. Seaman entered upon the plans for Payne's care at college with the same lavlsh- ness as characterized his other plans for his future. Payne was to have a horse always at his command, and doubtless many other luxuries were suggested in the enthusiasm of the moment. While Payne was in Boston, Mr. Seaman had an opportunity to review his plans dis- passionately. The Princeton idea was at once seen to be impracticable. Princeton while free from certain "seducing charms and baleful vices," was not far enough away from them, and Mr. Seaman began to fear that Payne would be too often in town; for with the horse he had been promised, he could easily make the trip, and would prob- ably take occasion to do so whenever it was his desire. As the college best fitted to fulfill all the requirements of the case Union College at Schenectady, New York, then under the direction of the well-known educator Dr 54 EHphalet Nott ^ was definitely chosen and on Payne's return to New York about the middle of April the change of plan was made known to him. Payne was keenly disap- pointed, and not until the middle of June was all in readiness for his journey to Schenectady. "The matter has been delayed from my own opposition," he writes to his father on June 3, "as it must be allowed that In a cloistered solitude like that which I am about to encounter there is nothing inviting and nothing pleasing to a mind which has here- tofore been rather withdrawn than otherwise from regular duties and regular study. This premised self-denial and humiliation Is an- ticipated as unavoidable. I know that Mr. Nott is so well aware of my situation and circumstances that every endeavor In his power will be exerted to situate me pleas- antly and agreeably. It must at the same time be recollected that the consent on my part to going was entirely — as I told that ^ Dr. Nott was now at the age of thirty-three. Two years before this time he had assumed the Presidency of Union College, a then struggling institution. His career is perhaps without a parallel in the history of American education. 55 gentleman — in deference to Mr. Seaman's judgment; that for myself I looked upon it as I should to enter the State's Prison, for the same term." Three days later he wrote, — "I assure you that the remarks which you advance relative to resolution of mind and a power of rendering ourselves happy in any situation of life had no trifling effect in producing my acceptance of the Schenectady Plan." It had been Payne's purpose, after the distribution of the last number of the Thes- pian Mirror, to dismiss the work, in accord- ance with his promise to Mr. Seaman, "with some editorial remarks, an index and a title- page for the use of such subscribers as con- sidered the numbers worthy of preservation; but in the execution of the plan, finding that the design exceeded its limits," he issued on May 31, as a supplement, with Mr. Seaman's approval — in fact Mr. Seaman offered to defray all expenses — the now extremely rare fourteenth^ number, in which he took ^ There is nothing to indicate that any of the biographers of Payne have had access to the "Fourteenth Number." Mr. Harrison evidently knew of its existence; but he shows conclusively that he had never seen the issue, when he states: — "The Mirror ran through fourteen numbers, the 56 occasion to place before his patrons the com- plete history of the publication, with thanks for their patronage, regrets that such pat- ronage was not more deserved, and apologies for the "crude, imperfect and unfinished state" in which the Mirror was necessarily given to the public. With his aifairs satisfactorily adjusted and the final adieus said, Payne set sail from New York early in June on the sloop Swan, arriv- ing at Albany after a most delightful voyage which he thus describes to his father, writing from there on the eighteenth : — "I have been in this place since Monday evening; but, engaged by numerous avoca- tions with my new-made friends, have scarcely found time to put pen to paper since my arrival. With the passage and with the pas- sengers to this place I was greatly delighted; but Albany itself is a poor, shabby looking little clump of houses. The jaunt itself is one of the most pleasant on the continent; or at least within the compass of my travels. The passage thro' the highlands is sublime and original. I never found any thing more last appearing March 22, 1806." (This was the date of issue of the Thirteenth Number.) 57 striking; nor can more magnificent prospect be described. The winds are so very pre- carious that no calculation can be made on the passage; and we stopped on our course no less than eight times. This gave a suffi- ciency of time to view the mountainous country and we had many exquisite walks thro' it. I found Colonel Willet^ and Lady very agreeable company. We had two female passengers equally pleasing; and Brown,^ the celebrated American author, afforded me the greatest satisfaction. The rest of the party are going to Montreal tomorrow, via Ballstown; and I am to accompany them. We shall spend a day or two in this place, a day or two in Ballstown, and then return to Schenectady where I shall go to Dr. Nott. This college is universally railed at here for the excessive and unexampled rigidity of its governors. Bad as it may be I cannot now be disappointed." Despite the fact that Payne was now on the way to college, with Mr. Seaman paying ^ Colonel Marinus Willett, The Hero of Fort Stanwix. ^ Charles Brockden Brown, the American Novelist, born 1771, died 1810. 58 the expenses, and that he had already lost much valuable time, he set out as he had planned with the party for Montreal. A remarkable character study is afforded by Payne's description of the trip in a letter written on June 27 to his friend James Lewis, soon after his return to Albany. — "Referring you to a letter which I write Mr. Seaman for the particulars of my most adventurous tour I entreat that you will have the goodness to pay the bearer six dollars on my account. After I arrived here I deter- mined to go to Montreal, and set away with a party from the packet, consisting of three ladies and two gentlemen, gentlemen self exclusive. I had but fifteen dollars and was disappointed in all ideas and arrangements for accommodation. Added to this, a dispute with a fellow passenger resolved me to stop at Glen's Falls, and I would go no further. I had then but thirty-three cents in my pocket, six of which I there expended on pen, ink and paper, on which I wrote some verses and journalised ^ my tour. I made an equiv- ^ This is undoubtedly the Journal of which Theo. S. Fay- thus writes in the Mirror: — "This Journal was long in the 59 ocal arrangement with the stageman to re- turn for me; but after passing some most exquisitely lonesome and miserable hours at Glen's Falls, I determined to endeavor to walk to Lake Champlain, twenty-six miles. Without saying a word to anyone of my plan I learnt the route and set away at ten minutes past eight on my journey. Chance led me three miles from my way; but after getting lodging at sixpence, I pursued my proper route in the morning at four, and arrived at the end of the march at twelve o'clock, my only nourishment on the road being milk punch; and after ordering my last glass my possession of the late Joseph D. Fay. It is now, we believe, irrecoverably lost, with the exception of the following lines, composed while looking upon the North River by moonlight : " On the deck of the slow-sailing vessel, alone, As I silently sat, all was mute as the grave; It was night, and the moon mildly beautiful shone, Lighting up with her soft smile the quivering wave. So bewitchingly gentle and pure was its beam, In tenderness watching o'er nature's repose. That I liken'd its ray to Christianity's gleam. When it mellows and soothes without chasing our woes. And I felt such an exquisite wildness of sorrow. While entranced by the tremulous glow of the deep, That I long'd to prevent the intrusion of morrow, And stay there for ever to wonder and weep. 60 funds were exhausted, — I was compelled to lay open my situation, — and the landlord very kindly excused me the sixpence. The party hardly believed their eyes when they saw me trudging along. I had to borrow money of the driver to pay my expenses back, and when I returned to Albany I had to borrow of my landlord to pay the driver, eleven dollars. I found at Skeensbro', (Lake Champlain) the black who brings this. He was precisely in my own situation — penny- less. I pitied him, from my own sufferings, and of course I divided my pittance with him, and he has boarded at my charge while here. I paid his passage and have engaged to pay his expenses to New York, where he may find a place. That is the cause of my order, and you will perceive that my de- mands on Mr. Seaman are so great as to compel me to furnish other resources at this moment. I am now here without a half- penny in my long purse. I must be relieved somehow or other; and a little will not suffice. If I walk to Montreal I mean to go, if only to convince my opponent that I am superior to being deterred by spleen and insolence; and that I have enough of per- 6i severence to struggle against the current of ill nature and nonsense. "To borrow our old phrase, — *are you flush?' I shall expect an immediate answer. If I go to Montreal, I shall take Niagara in the route. Dr. Nott knows my arrangement, but I know him not. "It is impossible to board genteelly here under eight dollars a week. I pay that, tho to tell the plain truth I have not money enough to get a piece of linen washed, if I was called on for the cash." Before undertaking the Montreal trip, Payne had written to Mr. Seaman to obtain his consent. The letter, as he wrote his father on August 2, "was couched in such terms as he conceived to be undeniable, and urged in a manner which was, in his opinion, fully satisfactory. He had waited unavail- ingly for the receipt of letters, and being at a stand, resolved, expecting that the college vacation took place in July, to take advan- tage of such an opportunity as might not again oifer." Payne was influenced and advised in his decision by Colonel Willett, who had sug- 62 gested the trip; and he did not "of himself obstinately resolve to go to Montreal," as was almost immediately reported ^ to Mr. Seaman by one of the party (Atllar by name) who on some account disaffected towards Payne, on his return to New York represented Payne's conduct on the trip "as altogether blameable," and with his stories succeeded in incensing Mr. Seaman. Circumstances similar to this constantly occurring throughout his career, brought on from jealousy or like causes, have not been without their eifect in giving to the general public a wrong idea of John Howard Payne, especially so as Payne seems to have made no eiforts to disprove the assertions. ^ A letter from Mr. Seaman awaited Payne on his return to Albany. Now freed from the glamour and provoked at the course pursued by his young ward, Mr. Seaman wrote, "de- claring, among other unqualified expressions, * L. T. P. to Mr. Seamans. August i6, 1806. Original letter in the library of Union College. 2 "The world naust have something to talk about, and they may as well talk of me as any one else. Their gabble does not affect me, and it would be foolish to be affected by it." From Payne's letter of September 23 , 1 806, to his father. The original is in the library of Union College. 63 that he would be 'trifled with and imposed on no longer.' " Payne was sensible of having done no wrong, and Mr. Seaman's letter brought forth a reply in which he gave vent to the warmth of his feelings. Other letters equally impassioned followed on both sides. The refusal of Mr. Seaman to send funds detained Payne in Albany, where he continued to incur debts, keeping his father in ignorance of his affairs. How full of good advice and encourage- ment are the letters of the father to the son, who was supposedly now entered upon the career his benefactor had chosen for him! "In going from New York you relinquish a little of the mere flutter of society in which a boy of your standing ought never to be favored — it makes but to inflate his Vanity, but never satisfies his reason. Here (suppos- ing you at Skenectady) you have the sources of sterling knowledge within your reach, fruits of the best exercised reason and treasure of a solid truth. It is needless to paint the scene. The plain fact is that by a little patient at- tention to the objects proposed to you there you may become a good classical scholar. An 64 eloquent rhetorician you can scarcely fail to be. You will obtain the honors of the college, which is a great thing in public estimation; the approbation of good men which is greater, and a patronage exceeding anything of the kind that your parents and family could have contemplated or thought of. "The reverse, my dear son, would form a picture which from its dismal appearance I forbear to draw. Most devoutly I deprecate your ever being presented in such a group of miseries." A truce between Mr. Seaman and Payne was finally established and on the eighteenth of July Payne left Albany to take up his work at college. Payne was penitent, and Mr. Seaman was appeased; but when he found that he was charged with the expenses incurred by Payne during his delay at Albany the flame again burst forth and in a severe and somewhat sarcastic letter to Dr. Nott, July 29, 1806, he thus outlines his limitations and wishes for the future: — "Master John H. Payne left this the begin- ning of June for the seminary at Schenectady, 65 but he has till lately forgotten the place of his destination. His vanity has led him to make himself conspicuous everywhere but at col- lege. I, however, rec'd a letter from him of the 19th inst., dated Schenectady, so that it seems his paroxism is finished; but I am apprehensive that it will return notwithstand- ing what he says he has suffered while under the operation. I gave him a letter for you which I presume he has delivered. I therein requested you to furnish him with all neces- saries, and to allow him twenty shillings — per month for pocket money. Since he left New York he has squandered away upwards of $90, which I am under no obligation to pay, but if he remains at college for six months I will pay the same, although it is a Tavern debt. When he left this I gave him twenty dollars when ten would have been sufficient to carry him to the place to which he was sent. Not to expose myself to any further vexations on this head, I have proposed a different arrangement to his father Mr. Wm. Payne of Boston, into whose hands I shall place ^250 per annum for the purpose of giv- ing his son John a liberal education. This allowance is to cease the moment he quits 66 Union College. I have chosen this place, as well from the high opinion I have of the eminent qualifications of its President as from its detached situation, which in the case of this youth is of the highest impor- tance. Nothing but the discipline of a classi- cal education can regulate the almost frantic sallies to which Master Payne's mind is ex- posed from its great activity which has been continually heightened by the same in the hands of John's father. You will hereafter consider him as the medium through which you are to be paid for any expenses you may incur on acc't of his son's education, clothes, Sec, while under your care. He will no doubt write immediately on the subject and give you generally his ideas of the boy. *' If, Sir, you can reclaim this youth and by any means whatever supplant a love of pleasure by a love of study you will confer a very high obligation on his friends and render an essential service to his country; for talents like his if properly directed will do much good in arresting the dreadful evils which await us from the encreasing and desolating effects of democracy." 67 I have said that Payne was penitent. In the crisis with Mr. Seaman he was not guided alone by his own feelings. Both Dr. Nott and Mr. Sedgwick, of Albany, who with his brother had already become fast friends of the youth, gave him their advice, as shown by a letter to his father under date of August 2. Both agreed that Mr. Seaman had "acted wrong, from right motives; " and that Payne had been guilty of indiscretions which Mr. Seaman had treated too harshly after every concession from Payne that the nature of the case required. "That I am blest with a disposition to retrieve my errors is undeniable," says Payne in the same letter, which was written in the calm that succeeded the storm. "Most sincerely do I regret their effects; and most sincerely does my heart bleed for their com- mission. It bleeds because it has afflicted my dearest friends, — it bleeds because it has led one to whom I was bound in indissoluble ties of gratitude to a hastiness of conduct which will forever cool, if it does not freeze, the warmth of aifection which once subsisted between us." 68 During his stay at Albany, Payne had met and captivated many of the leading citizens including Robert and Theodore Sedgwick. The facts regarding his quarrel with Mr. Sea- man were known to many of them, and when at the advice of all Payne left for college Mayor Van Rensselaer furnished him with ninety dollars to pay his debts, giving him to understand that it came from Mr. Seaman. Mr. Seaman, who was kept in ignorance of the affair, supposed for sometime after that he was still charged with the debts contracted. On July 19 we find Payne in Schenectady with admirable resolutions formed, ready conscientiously to take up his studies on the morrow. On that day he wrote his father as follows : — "Instead of being placed in the grammar school, I am to become the companion of Dr. Nott; to reside in the room with him; and to study privately under his particular care and direction until prepared to enter the college. I confess that imagination does not represent the pleasure of my new occupation in the most glowing colors. I cannot look upon them with impassioned eyes; I cannot 69 taste them with a perfect relish; but they will probably become natural, and habit will render them agreeable. Tomorrow is fixed for my debut. I have resolved, by endeavor- ing to insinuate myself into their good graces, to make the affections of my fellow students and of my tutors my first object. I know how unpleasant will be my onset. I feel it in all its horrors; and I tremble to anticipate." Dr. Nott had been opposed to having Payne placed at Union. To undertake the moulding and instruction of so unusual a youth seemed too gigantic a task for even this wonderful man; but when the matter was once decided, nothing that it was in his power to prevent was to block success. Having piloted Payne through the first two weeks of his new career, endeavoring always — and with wonderful success — to gain the confidence and win the affection of his charge, Dr. Nott turned his attention toward making peace with Mr. Seaman. Payne wrote to his father on August 2, — "Dr. Nott, an honor to human nature, has offered, kindly offered to take the business 70 into his hands; and, if his mediation prove ineffectual he says that my situation shall not suffer from the desertion of Mr. Seaman, if I can be happy in Schenectady. I can be happy there. With Dr. Nott I can be happy anywhere.''^ With what success and to what extremes Dr. Nott went to prevent Payne's coming in contact with any other influence may be seen when Payne adds: — "I am his companion at college, his ^chum^ as they call it, and even share his bed. These distinctions are most gratifying. I have the rank of a student, but am secluded from the other scholars, under the private and particu- lar care of Dr. Nott." No sooner were things running smoothly than it became time for the summer vaca- tion. Mr. Seaman and Payne's father de- sired that Payne should spend the vacation in Boston, but Dr. Nott took a decided stand against such a plan. Writing Payne's father on August 2, he says: — "Since his arrival, his conduct has been such, and such is the apparent influence I 71 have over him, that I feel great confidence in being able to rescue him from that ruin to which he is exposed. But so different is the treatment he receives here from what he receives in Albany, New York and probably Boston, that I should not like to run the hazard of his spending even a vacation in any of those places at present." Dr. Nott had his way, and it was decided that Payne should be with him all the vaca- tion; and wherever he went Payne should go also. Furthermore, his intervention with Mr. Seaman was rewarded by forgiveness, with promises of future aid and expressions of good will. — "To you. Sir," writes Mr. Seaman to Dr. Nott, on August 7, "we all look with anxious solicitude, as the only person who can save this youth from destruction, and by elevat- ing his views to more noble and interesting objects than have yet appeared to engage his attention, make him at once the solace and delight of his friends as well as highly ornamental and useful to society. I have definitely fixed the duration of my patronage 72 to his stay at Union College. This is my last and only hope, and the moment he quits it I owe it to myself to give him up wholly to his father's care. He now knows what awaits him should he have the folly to abandon his present situation, set himself once more afloat and become the sport of circumstances. After the trying lessons he has lately received, his resolution I trust is firmly fixed. "Give my love to John; tell him his sis- ter is well and cordially participates my joy in his returning sense of propriety. I now sincerely forgive his late improper conduct, and if he continues steadfast in his present laudable resolution of pursuing his studies with unwearied diligence my affection for him will soon again be what it once was." The summer vacation of fifteen weeks must, as a whole, have passed pleasantly for Payne. For the first ten days, being afflicted with one of the severe spells of illness to which he was often subject, Payne remained at Schenectady. The gloom of the place, en- hanced by the fact that now there were at the College "but two or three black servants and some workmen," as he writes to his 73 father, seemed sufficient excuse for his spend- ing a few days at Ballstown as soon as he was able to be about. Ballstown — Ballston Spa, as we now know it — was at this time at the height of its pop- ularity as a watering place. ^ Fashionable people from many places made it their resort. Payne writes his father on August 12 that there are "now 898 names recorded on the register at the Springs, and it is not easy to procure comfortable accommodations with- out being previously provided for." It is not to be wondered at that Payne found Ballstown an attractive place, and that he took occasion several times during the vacation to visit his friends there, either alone or in company with his "chum," Dr. Nott. With Dr. Nott, Payne also spent much time in Albany, and "at their request visited Governor Lewis, the Secretary of State, and the Livingston Manor." The only cloud in the bright sky of the summer seems to have been the disappointment caused by the abandon- ment of a visit which his parents had planned ^ The famous Sans Souci Hotel had been completed in 1804, and no expense was spared to make Ballston, — what for many years afterward it was, — the largest and most charming resort in the States. 74 on paying him, and which was given up be- cause of his mother's failing health. Gossip was again busy, and reports came to the elder Payne that his son had been rather too prominent in various visits to the Springs. Explanations were demanded and much good advice was given; which, although perhaps not amiss, exhibits more of a tendency toward severity and lack of trust than the evidence shows the case to have warranted. That Payne felt this deeply is shown by his reply to his father on September 23 : — "From your remarks as to the influence of my rational and moral reflections you seem disposed to believe that my heart retains those sentiments of despicable baseness which it was once cursed with. I hope that I am now superior to such degrading ideas, and I did hope that you believed so. No one has a deeper sense of the Importance of present pursuits to future happiness than I have, and no one is firmer than I am in a resolution of abiding by those Ideas." Before Payne left New York City for col- lege, Mr. Seaman had assumed all his debts. 75 For some reason he was kept In Ignorance of sums he had borrowed to the amount of nearly ^300. When near the end of the vaca- tion these loans were brought to Mr. Sea- man's attention, more fuel was added to the then nearly extinguished flames of his dis- pleasure caused by the events of the previous spring. There were no heated arguments over this matter, for Payne willingly admitted himself to be In the wrong and insisted on coming to New York before college opened in order to straighten matters out. Neither Mr. Seaman nor his father would listen to such a plan, suspecting that the wish of "righting his concerns" was not the only consideration drawing him back to the charms of New York, and the Idea was given up. Vacation over, Payne returned to college on September 24 from Albany, where he had been spending the latter part of the time. No sooner had he taken up the work of the fall term than he was seized with a "violent remitting fever." After a period of over two weeks we find him still confined to his bed — although evidently in high spirits — writing to his friend Robert Sedgwick whom he had recently visited at Albany: — 76 "The fates seem to have set themselves in battle array against me and my Latin gram- mar. Since the Monday I left you, I have scarcely risen from my bed. Today, for the first time, I venture to show my ^ diminished^ body to the walls of my bedchamber. My bed clothes, unconscious of the greatness which they covered, have very impolitely suffered themselves to get dirty. To punish their presumption others more worthy the dignity have been procured. The interval of exchange is devoted to you. Conscious of the distinction, I hope you will receive it with humility, and properly appreciate the honor which is conferred." The period of convalesence after an illness is often seized upon as an opportune time for writing letters. This was so in Payne's case, and he seems to have gone the rounds of his friends and relatives. His sister Eloise ap- pears, however, to have been the favored one, and from a veritable volume written to her on October 9, 1 take the following interesting and valuable selections : — "I comply with your request as to our seminary; but I cannot be so particular in 77 my account now as I may be when I have more paper and less to say. Our largest edi- fice ^ has a large grass plot, ornamented with trees in its front. It faces the street on one side, and a grass plain, being the play yard, on the other. At each side of this plain, and fronting each other, stand two white story buildings,^ with long piazzas appropriated to lodging rooms. The Grammar School is in the large edifice. It has some internal regu- lations which have no connection with the college, but in other respects is subject to its jurisdiction. The grammar scholars are exempt from fines, the common college pun- ishment and liable to flagellation. They are debarred, which the students are not, from the privilege of leaving the yard in recreation hours, without special permission; and when the students retire to their rooms to study, * This building was finished in 1804, and was known as the "West College." It was in the Italian style of architec- ture and from the designs of Philip Hooker, an eminent archi- tect of Albany. It was of stone, three stories high, besides a high basement, and was surmounted by a central cupola. This building contained a residence for the President, the chapel, library, and recitation rooms, together with a comfort- able number of dormitories. 2 These buildings were erected after 1805, and were known as the "Long College." 78 the grammar scholars study and recite in the schoolroom. They attend prayers, break- fast, and church, with the collegians. "There are two literary societies ^ recog- nised and patronised by the authority of col- lege. Their objects are the promotion of virtue, science, and friendship, — their busi- ness, extemporaneous debating and compo- sition. They have each a valuable library. One is the Adelphic, the other the Philo- mathean Society." How deep are the moans of the average collegian of today as the sound of the seven o'clock rising bell is borne to his ears! Can we stretch our imagination far enough to picture the scene were he required to shift to the schedule of the early days? Payne continues, — "I give you here our course of proceedings; — to each duty the bell warns us to be punctual. — 5, Rise. 3^ p 5, Prayers; after which the classes retire with their several instruc- tors to their particular recita- tion rooms. * These societies are still in existence. 79 8, Breakfast. Half past nine to eleven, study In rooms. 11, Recitation. 12, Recreation. I, Dinner — recreation till 2. 2 to 4, Study in rooms. 4, Recitation. 5, Prayers. J^ p 5, Tea. Recreation till 7. 7 to 9, Study In rooms. From 9 to il, devoted to anything which is agreeable in the rooms. "Not a light must be seen, under a severe penalty, after eleven; and after seven no stu- dent is allowed to be out of his room, under a like restriction. "A professor is constantly visiting the rooms to see the laws fulfilled. They are as vigilant as they are severe. The greatest harmony exists among the students, both as regards their studies and as respects each other. On Sunday no intercourse is allowed without, and very little within, the college walls. The students attend church in pro- cession. One professor goes to each place of worship, and any student may follow him." Careful calculation showed Payne that his 80 expenses for the year would exceed the stipu- lation of Mr. Seaman. Homesick, and "tor- tured by occasional fits of despondency and blue devils," as he expressed it in the letter to his father dated October 14, we can pic- ture this boy, now scarcely more than fifteen years old, laying his plans for the future, with a view to not only making up a probable de- ficiency in his own accounts, but planning with a laudable unselfishness, to extend aid to others. Thus, on the same date as above, he writes to Henry Brevoort: — "It has been, and still is, a great object with me to make myself independent, in pecuniary matters, of my family. I have been flattering myself with effecting the end, without considering the means. My father has a family of five children to support. He is in the decline of life, and the labor, the painful labor with which he provides for them will tend to shorten those years which to our family are so inestimable. — Can /, then, who should aid him in his duties, who should lighten his burthen, take the bread from the mouth of my dear parent? Oh, God ! How agonizing the thought — Not to subject his noble independence of spirit and strict integrity of principle to the necessity of relieving me, I have in view to issue pro- posals (under the veil of profound secrecy) for a work to be entitled, The American Plutarch. I had to render it an useful and amusing compendium of American Biography, having already made some collections, and being still in progress with more. The prob- able profit may be ascertained by previous proposals, and the publication can be at- tended to during our winter vacation. I can make it, I trust, a lucrative as well as an amus- ing compendium. "As to Schenectady and Union College, I mean to sit down with as much content as any Dutch Magistrate in the place, and to grow so wise you '11 have to talk with me very soon by the intervention of Magi. I have been reading Franklin's Way to Wealth, and mean to become economical." Having definitely decided on his future course, Payne hastened to place the project of The American Plutarch before his father, soliciting his sanction, but simply giving as his reason for desiring its issue that he was 82 "desirous of providing against exigencies." He says: "You will perhaps regret the return of the cacoethes scribendi, but I assure you this work, without any eye to renown, will be, like Peter Pindar's razors, merely 'made to sell.' I shall keep myself entirely in the back ground, and veil the author's name in profound secrecy. I will promise, however, that my great men shall not interfere with my great object.''^ To Payne's illness and confinement we are indebted for a little poem which in the light of after events becomes of the greatest inter- est and importance. Alone in his room, his thoughts turning to his friends and family at home, he followed his natural inclinations and in verse gave utterance to his feelings. — "Eloise's letter caught me in one of my fits of hypo during the height of my illness," writes Payne, in the same letter to his father: "It afforded me much satisfaction, for I was just at that moment reducing the pleasures of Home to doggrell." To the world John Howard Payne is best known as the author of "Home, Sweet Home." This song was introduced by Payne 83 in his opera Clari,^ which had its first presen- tation at Covent Garden Theater, London, May 8, 1823. Such praise was at once ac- corded the song that Goulding & Co., who had obtained the publishing rights, realized a fortune from its sales. The success of the opera and the publication of the song bene- fitted Payne least of all. He had sold the manuscript for a lump sum, and retained no interest in it. Further, the publisher did not even deem it necessary to place his name on the titlepage as the author of the words. The fact that Payne was not credited with having written the words, when "Home, Sweet Home" was published, gave rise to the belief on the part of many that the credit belonged to someone else, although the several attempts that have been made to deprive Payne of the authorship, or prove him guilty of plagiarism, have in every case failed. There has lately been presented to Union College a poem by Payne, hitherto unpub- lished, found among the papers of Harmanus Bleeker, of Albany. As Bleeker was a friend ^ Readers of the Dickens-Beadnell letters will remember that Dickens played the part of Rolamo, father to Clari, and that the playbill, the earliest known in which Dickens' name appears, is reproduced in that volume. 84 and patron of Payne during his college course, it seems likely that this poem is the very one on which he was at work when in his "fit of hypo" his sister's letter came to cheer him. In the light of the question of the author- ship, and as to its value in the history of the writing, how interesting then is this poem, given below, written while Payne was a student at Union College, the very genesis of the idea of "Home, Sweet Home!" Home — Where burns the lov'd hearth brightest Cheering the social breast? Where beats the fond heart highest, Its humble hopes possess'd? Where is the smile of sadness, Of meek-eyed Patience born, Worth more than those of gladness Which Mirth's bright cheek adorn? Pleasure is mark'd by fleetness, To those who ever roam: While grief itself has sweetness At Home ! dear Home 1 There blend the ties that strengthen Our hearts in hours of grief. The silver links that lengthen Joy's visits when most brief: 85 There eyes in all their splendors Are vocal to the heart, And glances gay or tender Fresh eloquence impart: Then dost thou sigh for pleasure? O ! do not widely roam, But seek that hidden treasure At Home! dear Home! Does pure religion charm thee Far more than ought below? Wouldst thou that she would arm thee Against the hour of woe? Think not she dwelleth only In temples built for prayer; For Home itself is lonely Unless her smiles be there; The devotee may falter. The bigot blindly roam; If worshipless her altar At Home! dear Home! Love over it presideth With meek and watchful awe, Its daily service guideth, And shews its perfect law. If there thy faith shall fail thee. If there no shrine be found, What can thy prayers avail thee With kneeling crowds around? 86 Go! leave thy gift unoffered, Beneath religion's dome, And be the first fruits proffer'd At Home! dear Home! With Payne's convalescence, things began to assume a more pleasing appearance, and the "melancholy tints of Hie, Haec, Hoc, to brighten," as he then expressed himself in a letter to William Sampson. After the vaca- tion season filled with so much bustle and pleasure the restraints of college life did not, however, sit as easily as they might. The good resolutions formed during his sickness were nevertheless not to be broken, and he continues philosophically: — "To a novice, the languages ' have few charms; but we must sow to reap, and the expectation of the harvest is a stimulant to the labors of the field, which sweetens their toil and softens their fatigues." Not the least among the attractions at Ballstown during the summer had been the charms of a certain Miss Fairlie. "Absence and change of air" were, however, infallible remedies for love, and to the long list of reso- lutions, reluctantly was added another in a letter to Henry Brevoort: — 87 "Miss Fairlle often names me. Now could I believe you I would bless the stars which have decreed such honor to my sad, silly name. I was determined to think no more of this * lovely sylph,' but you have 'touched the string on which hung all my sorrows.' I have made a solemn resolution, however, to forsake — * Cupid, flames and flowers Hearts Darts And amaranthine bowers : ' "My Dulclnea was fascinating enough to have caught any Quixotean Adventurer, — but I was so consummately ridiculous that if all the beauties in all the Paradises of all the world were to assail me I never, never would enter the lists again." I have some doubts as to the faithfulness with which this last resolution was kept, for Payne freely admitted that his curse was "the love of fair faces," and we find him about this time endeavoring to appease, with some very mediocre verses, "a beautiful young lady who found fault with the author because he looked at her." ^ * Through the courtesy of Mr. Thatcher T. P. Luquer the writer has in his collection a copy of this poem. 88 More for amusement than in hope of pecu- niary reward Payne now gathered materials for a "correct life of Hodgkinson," which on November 5, 1806, he offered to the editor of the Polyanthos on the following terms : — "If my puerile exertions in aid of your miscellany can avail you anything, you shall have them for their sterling worth — nothing.''^ The contemplated Plutarch^ even before the prospectus was issued, was relinquished as "stale, flat and unprofitable." Immedi- ately another plan was thought of, and as quickly given up. On November 18 he thus writes to his father: "It was to undertake in concert with some printer or bookseller in Albany a monthly miscellany, with engrav- ings, on the plan of the Boston Polyanthos. The enterprise would not be unsafe, and the entertainment derived from its executions would amply remunerate the expense of labour and time, which altogether would be very trifling. The assistance of distinguished literary characters throughout the United States would be solicited and expected." In order to obtain a set of Shakespeare and other books which he wanted Payne turned book-agent, and for Munroe & Francis, of 89 Boston, endeavored with some success to secure subscribers to their second edition of Shakespeare. It was now approaching December, and still no feasible plan had been brought forth whereby Payne could discharge his debts or aid his father. " Nil desperandum and labor omnia vincit improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas are my mottoes," he writes to his father. Suddenly it occurred to Payne that here was an opening for such a literary paper as he had intended issuing in New York before the scheme had given place to the Thespian Mir- ror, and in December there appeared the fol- lowing proposal^ for a weekly literary paper to be known by the name that Payne had in- tended using in his New York venture, The Pastime. — "On suitable encouragement, it is pro- posed to issue a Weekly Paper in this City, to be called — The Pastime Such persons as are disposed to promote a project of this nature are requested to affix ^ An original printed proposal is in the library of Union College. 90 their names to this subscription. The editor will not implicate himself in promises which he may not be able to perform; but he pledges himself that no exertions shall be wanting on his part to render The Pastime a spirited auxiliary to the cause of polite literature. It will be commenced with the next session of Union College. Schenectady, December, 1806. Conditions : The work will be afforded at One Dollar per session, or quarter, payable in advance. It will be printed in a neat octavo form. Eight pages to be used weekly. The matter, original or selected, will be exclusively literary." Payne spent the Christmas vacation with his parents in Boston. His stay was pro- tracted some days beyond the period fixed, by another sickness, and not until the tenth of February did he start on his return to college. He was indebted to Mr. Seaman for the "indulgence of tasting the pleasures of home, of all pleasures the most delightful," 91 and on February 9 before he returned to college he feelingly wrote to express his ap- preciation, adding with sentiments of esteem and gratitude, that "no object was dearer to his heart than that of regaining the confidence which his own imprudences had suspended, than that of meriting the kindness which he could not claim." Payne had been back at college but a short time when he was again assailed by a severe attack of the "blues." Everything seemed at "sixes and sevens." The frailty of his constitution rendered Incessant attention to study impossible, and his progress was not to the liking of Mr. Seaman. Schenectady, as he said in a letter to Mr. Seaman, seemed "one of the most unlovely places in the world," and in adopting the opinion of "unprejudiced foreigners" he added his condemnation of the "policy which led to the erection^ of a college in one of the most unpleasant swamps in the United States." The question of spending money, always a bone of contention between Payne and his guardian, again came ^ Union College was at this time situated at the corner of Union and College Streets. The present site on the hill was not obtained until 1812. 92 to the front and in reply to Mr. Seaman's criticisms Payne wrote on February 20, 1807: "I think you mistaken when you consider $300 the largest allowance made at college. Calculating the expenses of education alone, including some contingencies belonging to, though not generally estimated in, those ex- penses, one hundred and fifty dollars will barely suffice to cover them. Clothing is very expensive. Traveling, and other ap- pendages are equally so; and every student has spending money. "The furniture of our rooms, which are large and elegant, is costly. I have a bed- stead and matrass. I find the matrass very unpleasant, as I have been used to a feather bed. I have attempted to dispose of it, but cannot; and a feather bed is an article of heavy expense." The printers were importunate in their demands for the payment of their "extrava- gant bill of $32.50" for the fourteenth num- ber of the Mirror. This bill Mr. Seaman had promised to pay on Payne's giving up the project; but he had evidently not done so, 93 and in distress Payne places the matter be- fore him. — "I have referred the printers to you. If you think me still unworthy of such a favor, I must work till I can pay the bill." We have but to add, to complete the dis- mal picture, that at this time Payne's father became financially embarrassed, and reports from Boston showed that his mother whose health had been fast failing was now in an alarming condition. With justification, Payne thus wrote to Mr. Seaman : — "You see with what complicated misery I am surrounded. Every moment in expecta- tion of losing the dearest, the best of mothers. Every instant tortured with pecuniary de- mands. Can you, Sir, — can you expect that attention to study which, otherwise situated, would be required from me?" On February 21 from out this chaos of mind and body issued the first number^ of * The first number of The Pastime contains the following editorial note: — "The publication of The Pastime has been delayed for a few days by the illness of one of the editors. It is now brought forward with some hurry of preparation, and the first number rather prematurely submitted to the public. Readers will therefore judge candidly of a specimen which 94 The Pastime. While the impression is given that The Pastime was issued by a board of editors it was probably the work of Payne alone. As in the case of the Thespian Mirror, contributions were solicited and inserted. Poetry bore an important part and it is likely the Editors themselves have not had time to examine; and critics will have the lenity not to make game of those who have done their best to provide them with an agreeable pastime. "It was not without hesitancy that the project of this paper was adopted. The extreme uncertainty of public ar- rangement is a barrier to literary exertions, which few have the resolution to encounter, and still fewer the perseverance to surmount. There are difficulties and dangers in the way of every literary adventurer which experience only can fore- see, and fortitude only can withstand. The caprice of readers who do not know their own taste, and the vanity of writers who will not know their own defects, must be humoured, and must be borne. An editor is like a farmer's drudge horse; anybody may use, everybody may abuse, but no one is com- pelled to treat him kindly. "Such considerations staggered our resolution, but others pressed us forward to persevere. We sat upon the shore and beheld the sea on which we were about to embark, covered with wrecks. But the clouds broke as we gazed upon the dis- tant horizon. We knew that the waters had been passed, and that they might be passed again. The pleasure of literature stole upon our view, and we smiled upon its difficulties. "Thus determined, our first number is abruptly submitted to the public. With the trembling hand, the beating heart, and the moisten'd eye of parent, we give this infant to be fos- tered by their care, to be supported by their munificence. Our little work is left with them; and when it shall become unworthy of patronage, it is their duty to consign it to the shades of oblivion." 95 that many of the poems were written by Payne. Biographies were inserted, as it was stated editorially, "when the pressure of study, or dearth of communications" com- pelled the substitution of selected articles in place of original essays, and in such cases it was the object of the "editors" to collect such pieces as from their scarcity might bear "the stamp of novelty, and from their nature, the charms of interest." This same week brought a change in the method of Payne's instruction. At his own request, and under the sanction of Dr. Nott, he was placed in the care of Professor Ben- jamin Allen, whom in a letter to his father he called "the most learned man in college." He was to be privately prepared to enter the college proper at the next Commencement. Payne always preferred private instruction and the change was extremely agreeable to him. While the cost was greater (twelve dollars per quarter as against six, the regular college tuition), it was felt by all that the gain would be incomparably greater. "I wish to understand what I learn," writes Payne to Mr. Seaman. "I have been hurried forward in the Latin; I have travelled with so much 96 celerity that I know nothing of the country through which I have passed! I have been forced into a dark forest, and if I were left alone it would be as impracticable to find my way out of it as to penetrate the mysteries of Fate, and unveil the face of futurity." Under the new arrangement matters seemed to progress more smoothly. The spring va- cation broke the monotony, and gave place to a very pleasant trip. Payne travelled through New Jersey, — visiting Newark, Trenton and Princeton, — and went to Phil- adelphia, where he remained some time. At Newark Payne met one of his "old flames." "Sweet soul: how pretty she is," he exclaims in a letter to James Lewis, dated April 25, 1807. "We exchanged stages with her at Newark, and I made great exertions to get the seat which she occupied, and often knocked my head against the coach's side, supposing it possible at least that her head might have knocked against the same place." Though Payne describes the roads as not un- like "the devil's turnpike to the infernal regions," the country appeared to him a "paradise." He was greatly impressed with the historical setting of the places through 97 which he passed. "Princeton," he writes in his letter to Lewis, "is a most delightful place; but the college edifice itself, built of huge stone, with the smallest kind of win- dows, — gives the idea of a jail standing in Elysium." Before his return to college Payne stopped a few days with his friends in New York. During his visit he found time to write a long letter to his mother. While many written to his father are extant, I can find no trace of any other written to his mother. This is the more remarkable as Payne always spoke of her in the most affectionate terms, and had evidently a great love for her. So interest- ing is this letter, and such a light does it throw on the thoughts and character of Payne that I give it here in its entirety. — "I have often regretted having so long neglected to give you a stronger testimony of anxiety for your decayed health, than the mere inquiry of a family letter. The time for acknowledging the error, and the attempt to atone for it, has been constantly put off for an hour of more leisure, which has never yet arrived, and perhaps never may. In a 98 moment of hurry, therefore, I have resolved to do the thing at once, and tho' I cannot say half that I could wish, I am unwilling to encourage the spirit of procrastination. "It has long been my desire to acquaint you with the sentiments and principles which actuate my conduct. The more so, as I know you have had reasons, and cogent ones too, to fear much for me; and that you had grounds to believe me deficient in moral sense, and in a conviction of accountability to my Maker. I wish such anxieties to be re- moved, for tho' I am not versed in the in- tricacies of sacred lore, I adore my God, and profoundly venerate the Christian Religion. I seek to avoid theological discussions and all the perplexities of abstruse speculation. My intent is to make myself perfectly familiar with the Scriptures; and my ruling principle to love, honor, fear and obey the Deity, to avoid evil as much as I can, and to do all the good which may be in my power. The Christian Religion is sweet and consoling; and perhaps not the least convincing proof of its divine origin springs from the inward consciousness of having done our duty which is produced by a compliance with its mandates. 99 "It is a darling object with me to be in a situation to support my father's family and to free him from the burthen of its concerns. How soon this may be possible no human eye can foresee. The time is probably dis- tant. I shall continue to apply ardently to my studies; but should active exertions for my family become necessary, I shall lay them by as a sacrifice owing to my relations, and which duty requires that I should make. "In the regulation of expenses perhaps I have everything to learn. Until recently I have been insensible to the value of money, and the necessity of economising. I find that it becomes me to relinquish many gratifica- tions in order to preserve that competence with its attendant equanimity of temper, which I have so often and so unfortunately lost. I have long been conscious of the benefit of economy, but I have not sought the means by which it is acquired, while admiring its happy influence and effect. I have not con- sidered how little and incidental expenses swell imperceptibly into a mountain of debt, enough to embarrass and perplex the mind forever — "But, while I am imparting these resolu- lOO tions and describing these impressions, I am still aware how necessary it is to guard my own feelings, and of the incredible effect which trifling occurrences have upon the most important resolutions. These are the prominent features of a system, the minuter lines of which are now merely sketched, and capable of change or total erasure, should they be found to require it. I hope no part of the picture will prove defective or de- formed; and if so, that the impression may be indelible on *the tablet of my memory' — • that I may wear it in my ^ heart of hearts.'' "I have much to fear from the seductive and overwhelming influence of passion, and I have an aptitude and quickness of resent- ment to subdue before I can hope to be per- manently happy. That passionate temper and promptness to anger and resentment have lost me many a friend and cost me many a pang. "These suggestions, my dear Mother, come warm from the heart. I make them because I think they are due to that forbearance which you have shown to my weaknesses and to that uniform exertion which you have made to impress me with useful sentiments. They lOI are conveyed in a less finished and perspicu- ous manner than I could wish, for I am in a room which is all confusion. I reproach my- self for not giving more attention to your instructions and advice, and for repeated instances of impatience under restraint, and absolute disobedience. But I trust that you will forgive them. You have held up my brother William as a perfect model for my imitation. I will imitate him. And while I endeavor to consummate my happiness by rectitude of conduct and principle, — by a reverence for my Creator, — by good will towards mankind, — believe me, my dear Mother, that I shall never cease to attribute all that is good in me to the early care and admonitions of my Father and yourself." The commencement of the term finds Payne back at college, and hard at work. On June 4, 1807, in a letter to his father he tells of his activities : — *'My studies become the more agreeable the further I progress. The elementary parts of any science are not a little dispiriting. The dead languages in particular require a foundation so very stable that it demands no 102 ordinary resolution to conquer the difficulties to be met with in such a manner as to make any rapid movements through the more de- lightful range — especially so, to those who have had a premature foretaste of the sweets of literature. With me whose feelings are mutable as the 'winds of Heaven,' — whose resolutions, formed at one moment, vanish at another, nothing is certain; but I should say, with my present impressions, that nothing could give me greater pleasure than to realise the most ardent wishes and hopes of my friends, and to become a thorough scholar. I know that those wishes and hopes are so flatteringly exalted that it will be an eternal disadvantage to me. I have been destined to be led by, rather than to lead, public expectation; and it remains for me to keep up with it as well as I can. "I read about one hundred and twenty lines a day in Virgil, and am now one hundred and fifty lines forward in the 2d ^neid. The President is of the opinion that I had better enter the last sessions of the Sopho- more year, which will keep me two years ^ in college, after I am admitted. ^ This would make Payne of the Class of 1810. 103 "I have been reading for the first time (and I have not yet completed it), Mason on Self Knowledge. I shall never forget the work, or the author. A fund of useful and indispensable instruction, — it should be en- graven on every one's heart and indelibly impressed. "I have a strong desire to learn the Greek; and I shall enter upon it with much alacrity, as soon as a new grammar ^ now publishing under the auspices of this college, is com- pleated. All our greek grammars now are in Latin; 2 and the intrinsick difficulties of the language are perplexed by the necessity of translating the rules, before we can acquire ' Payne evidently refers to a translation of James Moor's Greek Grammar, edited by Samuel Blatchford and published in New York in 1807. On the first page after the title appears the following: — Recommendation. "At a meeting of the Board of Trustees of Union College, held at the College Hall on the twenty-ninth of July, 1807. "Resolved, that Moor's Greek Grammar as translated by the Reverend Samuel Blatchford, of Lansingburgh, be adopted by this Board, and that the professors be directed to introduce the same into their respective classes." ' Payne is in error on this point. A "Grammar of the Greek Language" known as "The Gloucester School Greek Grammar" was published in Boston in 1800, from the third London Edition. A second edition was issued in Boston in October, 1805. 104 their meaning. Though this impresses them on the memory it is so dispiritingly burthen- some that we become exhausted with con- struing the grammar, ere we ascertain its application." On the eighteenth of June Payne suffered the severe and irreparable loss of his mother.^ ^ The Pastime for July ii contains the following: OBITUARY "DIED at Boston, on Thursday, the i8th of June, after a long and afflictive illness, Mrs. SARAH PAYNE, AEt, 49, consort of Mr. William Payne. "Mortality, when contemplated at a distance, affects us; we view the unknown tomb not without emotion, and feel involuntary sadness when inscribing the record even of a stranger's death. Nature teaches us to sympathise with others: we catch the mourners' anguish, and mingle kindred tears with the child of woe. It is, however, only when the fatal archer invades the domestic circle, and points his envenomed arrows at the bosoms of our dearest friends, that the heart feels the extent of anguish, and tastes the bitterness of funereal sorrows. "The alarm which death occasions — the deep- toned agony it excites in the bosom of children when a parent is the victim, overcomes them: and they cling for a season in speechless silence to the urn which con- tains her ashes. But departed worth leaves even the mourning friends a solace. There is a soothing, melan- 105 "I will not attempt to describe my feelings on this melancholy event," he writes to James Lewis a few days later. "Let the tears that bedew the paper on which I write choly pleasure, in recollecting the virtues of those who are now no more. "Our attempt to give the character of the deceased, might be deemed ostentatious. But surely, if the sweetest temper, the most diffusive benevolence, the tenderest sympathy — if a life spent in the exercise of those mild and endearing virtues which adorn the female character, claim the fond recollection of sur- vivors, it were criminal, as it would be unnatural, to withhold the tribute tear. The stranger witnessed her urbanity; the afflicted were solaced by her sympathy; but her family alone, knew the extent of that meek, and unassuming goodness, which concealed from the world, displayed itself amidst the cares, the duties, the joys, and sorrows of domestic life. These humble duties — the education of a family, the instruction of servants, acts of kindness to dependants — these lowly virtues, tho' now overlooked and disregarded, will, when the warrior's triumph shall be forgotten, be exalted and honoured by the SAVIOUR OF THE WORLD. "But merit shields not from death. She has paid the debt of nature. To her family and friends she has left the purest consolation in their sorrows, and a bright example for their imitation. Amidst the decays of a dying body, were seen the distinctive traits of a celestial mind. She appeared occupied, indeed, but not dis- turbed; contemplative, but not alarmed; resolute, but tranquil; and with a steady eye she looked upon 1 06 speak for me. To me It is attended with every aggravation. It is so long since I saw her — what must my poor, dying parent have thought of my neglect? The reflection is too painful — it wounded my very soul ! Here I am surrounded by those (and happy indeed they are) who never having known affliction, know not how to pity or console it. "I do not feel in a situation to write, or to do any thing else. I have suspended my Pastime one week, on account of this melan- choly dispensation. Our vacation takes place in four weeks or less, when I shall return to Boston. Alas! how can I endure to revisit the mansion where I was wont to meet my dear mother, — to see all gloom, and not to find her, the affectionate sustainer of my infancy, who has so often welcomed me home with tears of tenderness and joy." At the close of the college year, on July 29, Payne hastened to get his affairs in order, death, encroaching in the languid form of disease, upon her mortal frame, which she seemed, by an an- ticipated act, already to have committed to the grave. Religion now occupied her thoughts, and took posses- sion of her mind. May her children who stood listen- ing around her bed of death, profit by her counsel, and imitate her example." 107 and after bringing out the Commencement number ^ of The Pastime on August i, left for home. Although the fall term of college began in September Payne did not return to Union until the latter part of October. The death of his mother still weighed heavily upon him. "Society," he writes to Miss Gleason, "has tended to blunt the keenness of my affliction, though death itself can only obliterate it altogether." He seems to have entered upon his studies with a quiet determination to "make good." For amusement he devoted himself to his paper, which became literally his Pastime. The realization, however, of his responsibili- ties in financial matters, in study, and in de- * This issue contains the following interesting description of the Ball: — "In the evening, a brilliant and fashionable assembly of ladies, attended the Commencement Ball at Rodger's. The utmost order and innocent joy pervaded the exercises of the day and evening. But one thing damped the enjoyments of the ball room; the dustiness of the floor, which when danced on, sent forth a mist thro' which it was hardly possible to distinguish the myriads of lovely faces that were present. Out of respect to the sufferings of the ladies, and the vexa- tion of the gentlemen, we hope Mr. Rodgers will exile all the dust from the ball room before the next anniversary of Commencement." 1 08 portment subjected him to numerous attacks of the "blues." On January 9 he writes to James Lewis : — "My feelings are soured by crosses and rendered sensitive by constant misconstruc- tion and much misfortune and much ill treatment. Because in one hour my heart swells high with hope, I cannot say that the next will not find me plunged into ineffable despair." There is something truly pathetic in the struggle of this youth, trying to rid himself of his "womanish whim whams," sometimes slipping, but always conscientiously striving to do as his friends wished, plodding on in the hope "that the Sun would soon break forth and dissipate the clouds that lowered on his brow." It is remarkable that neither in The Pas- time nor in his college letters, do we find any reference to indicate the relation existing be- tween John Howard Payne and the student body. Under the instructions of a tutor, and under the "particular care" of the Presi- dent, heralded abroad for his literary ac- complishments and his precocious abilities, every act and word watched, his position 109 was peculiar, and not at all conducive to the forming of strong friendships with his fellow students. This would have required an effort on his part which from his nature I doubt if he would have made. We know that on his arrival at college he was at once elected to the Adelphic Society, and that the honor thus conferred was deeply appreciated by him. He must have been a great addition to this literary Society. When in 1808 the Society gave its exhibition at the College, he con- tributed much to the success of the even- ing. The exercises included a play entitled Pulaski, written by Henry Warner, one of the students. The plot was founded on the story of the celebrated general of that name, and the part of the only female character, Lodoiska, was acted by Payne. His beauti- ful face and sweet voice admirably suited the assumed role, and his natural aptitude for acting must have insured a really finished per- formance. Payne was appointed to deliver the Epilogue, and in the character he had sus- tained for the evening, delivered the following,^ which he had composed for the occasion: — ^ I have taken this Epilogue from an original manuscript found among the papers of Harmanus Bleeker, and now in the 1 10 Stay gentlefolks, one moment longer stay — I come to ask you how you like our play? For our poor author, in a wretched plight Behind the scene stands trembling with affright. And sadly troubled for its fate, sends me To beg your favor for his tragedy. But soft a while — let me a moment pause — I '11 plead my own, before I plead his cause — Tell me, ye beaux, are all your hearts still free Or are ye dying for the love of me? Have ye not hung enraptur'd on my charms ? Have ye not long'd to clasp me in your arms? Ladies! do ye no indignation feel That Lodoiska should your lovers steal? No matter. Ladies! set your hearts at rest You shall retain your beaux and make them blest — For lest a late discov'ry damp their joy In time I tell them that their fair 's a boy. ^^ A boy in petticoats !^^ Nay do not stare For girls in breeches are not half so rare! library of Union College. It will be noted that these verses are widely at variance with those of the Epilogue as published by Payne in his "Lispings of the Muse," London, 1815. The underscorings and lines for omission in the Bleeker manuscript give me reason to believe that it was the original of the Epilogue as spoken, and that it was later revised. Ill What characters do not our belles assume? Of men, I mean — none, none I dare presume. Says that young lady In the gun-boat bonnet — Or seems to say, — We ape the men — fie on it — Lord, ma'am — I ask your pardon — but if you Deny the fact, I '11 try to prove it true. Are ye not soldiers ? — don't ye fight with eyes And carry many a strong heart by surprise — Who can resist th' artillery of charms — The bravest heroes yield to woman's arms? Are ye not merchants too ? — and love 's a trade On which embargoes never can be laid. Do not our fair ones love by calculation? Do they not marry upon speculation? And, to the highest bidder sell their charms Purchasing husbands as we 'd purchase farms? Are ye not tinkers for ye mend our hearts In short, the mimics of all manly arts — But on this subject I might prate till day — So I '11 e'en talk of what we call our play. Our play! the criticks sneeringly exclaim — *'Our farce were surely a more proper name!" Nay, criticks, do not snarl — we claim from you Not only candor but indulgence too — And if that kind indulgence you refuse — To you, ye fair, our trembling author sues — 112 To you, ye fair, beneath whose guardian eyes The humblest bud of genius never dies — Deck with your lovely smile our author's name — "The smiles of Beauty ^ are the wreaths of fame!'' Throughout the spring and summer of 1808 Payne's struggles went on in their usual course, each month bringing him nearer the crisis that he now saw was inevitable. At the commencement of the fall term this crisis was reached. Payne's relations with Mr. Seaman were strained to such a point that a break ^ seemed to the high strung boy the only means through which he might re- tain his self respect. — "I perceive that your resentment of the affair of 1806 is strong as ever. I have said and done enough to satisfy a reasonable mind of my regret for this error, — and I shall say * Letter to Mr. Seaman, — no date. Concerning this letter Payne writes: — "I am not certain whether the following letter was ever sent; but it is a perfect transcript of my feelings and inten- tions at the time, and is therefore preserved." The letter, or something like it, must have been sent, for a little later we read in a letter from Payne to his father that "Mr. Sea- man appears rather pleased with the idea of separation." 113 and do no more. I am conscious but of one further cause of hatred. With these excep- tions, I can justify every thing in my conduct towards you. But my regret even for these is greatly weakened by your continued and uncharitable austerity. "After so many fruitless attempts, I de- spair of a reconciliation. God knows how much I wish it! What can be more humili- ating, what more disgraceful, than to re- ceive favors from one whom you cannot call your friend. "In the letter now before me, you speak in the harshest language of my want of econ- omy. I am not conscious of such excessive prodigality as you charge me with. But if I were you have not suffered from my ex- travagance. When you gave up your guar- dianship, since by your means I have been induced to enter college, you voluntarily offered me an annuity of three hundred dol- lars, to cease whenever I should graduate, and even the term of my stay was limited to a period so much shorter than custom- ary, that the President was persuaded of there being some mistake in your letter upon the subject. But I do not murmur at the 114 arrangement. I shall graduate in two years from August or not at all. I resign the de- lightful expectation which you excited in the infancy of our connection, the expectation of travelling in Europe after leaving college, without a sigh. "As you take no interest in my proceed- ings, I know not why you should be offended with others for doing so. You send ^127 for me, and ^expect me to trouble you for no more money until February, 1809.' When have I troubled you for money, — when have I expressed a wish to receive more from you than the stipulated sum, since first that sum was stipulated.? No, Sir, I will not trouble you for money. If by any accident my wants should exceed my means, you shall not hear of it. If you were still what you once were I might have accounted for the disposition of the ''large sum of money ^ which I raised in Albany last winter. But as you feel yourself not enough my friend to answer respectful letters, I know not why you should expect to have that 'large sum' accounted for by me. What I have received from you, as you your- self indicated, I shall consider as a loan. When I am able you shall be repaid, and IIS whatever may transpire hereafter, I shall constantly recur to the origin of our connec- tion and be grateful. But if I have squan- dered *the large sum of money raised in Albany' no one can complain, for it has in- jured no one. If I have applied it to the re- lief of my father, I have done so silently. It is not in my ^ heart or character' to make any person feel the weight of obligation and if I am benevolent I will never ostentatiously tell the world that I know it. *'Thus situated, and under the influence of these impressions, it is fit that we should change our situation with regard to one an- other. It remains then for me to suggest that our connection may cease entirely, and that you should leave me hereafter to shift for myself. "But before I relinquish your assistance, allow me to assure you that I do it not with- out the deepest and most painful regret. But it is necessary. Could you place your- self for a moment in my situation, could you feel for once what it is to be under obligations to one who plainly declares that in his opinion you stand degraded, you could not blame me. This moment will form an era in my life ii6 which can never be recalled without emotion Be assured, Sir, that I deplore the necessity which separates us, however desirable I may- deem the separation; and believe, that I shall ever remain your friend, though I cannot sub- mit to be your dependant." Payne's father had become bankrupt. At this crisis In the affairs of one he loved so well, Payne at last, on October 4, 1808, found it necessary to write to him of his own strug- gles and his failures, and to suggest future plans which seemed the only means of sav- ing them both, — plans which out of a "sacred respect for his feelings, he had hitherto en- deavored to conceal:" — "I trust you will not be displeased with anything which has taken place, for I have acted throughout consistently with my no- tions of decorum, and have the testimony of my own conscience to justify my proceedings. "When I left Schenectady I was embar- rassed to the amount of three hundred dol- lars; and to extricate myself, depended on the half year's advance from two hundred and fifty subscribers to The Pastime, at one dollar 117 and fifty cents each. Most of these were out of town — some, who remained, said the paper had been irregularly sent and refused to pay; others would pay when the volume closed; but very few gave me the money. "Not despairing at this disappointment, I endeavored to obtain thirty more names to the ten dollar list which succeeded so well in Albany; ^ for I had firmly resolved not to return without the money; because that would expose me to infinite mortification, besides the unfavorable influence it might have upon the scheme of my sisters. To this list I obtained but sixteen new subscribers; so finding all my plans defeated I resolved after many struggles and much consider- ation to propose, as a last alternative, the Stage. "My connection with Mr. Seaman has never been a happy one; and I have not, nor shall I be able to circumscribe my annual expenses to $300. Mr. Seaman expressly declares that at the end of two years from August last his assistance ceases, and gives me no hopes of aid afterwards, in the paper * This was undoubtedly the plan, the success of which gave Payne "the large sum of money" mentioned above. 118 which we projected,^ and which held out such flattering prospects of success. And, at that time, when probably the Stage will be the sole resort, success will be infinitely more doubtful than at this present moment. *'In short, I know no other means of as- sisting you, of bettering my own conditions, and of paying my debts. "Mr. Cooper,^ whose opinion I have asked, and before whom I have recited Anthony's Oration and Brutus and Cassius' conversa- tion respecting Julius Caesar, without point- ing out a single fault, discourages me entirely. He says that after infinite study and labor I may possibly succeed — as a youth. Op- posed to this, I have the favorable judgment * One of the plans proposed by Mr. Seaman for Payne's future, after leaving college, was as follows: — "I think the law will be the great Theater (as leading most directly to political eminence) on which nature has formed him to act with success and reputation as well to himself and friends as his country. While studying the law he might with the assistance of a printer who would attend to the laborious and menial part of the business conduct a daily paper in this city which in a very short time under his talents as editor would prove a valuable and productive property." (Origi- nal letter in the library of Union College. To Payne's father, February 14, 1806.) 2 Thomas Abthorpe Cooper, the tragedian. Born in Eng- land in 1776. American debut, December 9, 1796. Died April 21, 1849. 119 of all others who have heard me; and if a determination is to rest on the opinion of any individual, I should refer it to Mr. Fennel.^ "Mr. Seaman appears rather pleased with the idea of separation. He told me he should write you; but wfjunderstanding that he should wait until Mr. Cooper had given an opinion, he has been beforehand with me. I am told he urges you to come hither imme- diately. I will therefore postpone further particulars until we meet; and can only add that should you come to the city I will see you remunerated for the expenses of the jour- ney, if I am obliged to sell my shirt to pay them. "I endeavor to bear these changes with for- titude and consider them trials rather than afflictions; though my courage sometimes gives way to sadness and impatience." The publishing of The Pastime had not been renewed on Payne's return to college, the last number appearing under date of June 1 8, 1808; and he had not seriously settled ^ James Fennell. English actor and dramatist. Born in 1766, He acted in many theaters in America between 1797 and 1806, with only mediocre success. 120 down to work on his studies, when he suc- ceeded in obtaining a slow and reluctant con- sent from his father that he should try his fortune on the stage. The reluctant consent of his father and the hesitating approval of his friends having been obtained Payne left college in November for Boston, to prepare for his new venture. While Mr. Seaman was undoubtedly re- lieved at being freed from his charge, he did not entirely lose his interest in Payne, and no doubt he assisted him in various ways in his preparation for the stage. The three months of preparation must have been busy ones, and Payne probably entered upon his work with the same zeal and enthusiasm that had characterized his previous undertakings. The public had not forgotten the young author, and Payne had made many friends during his residence in New York, so that a large and fashionable audience crowded the Old Park Theater, on the night of February 24, 1809, to witness his debut as "Young Norval" in Home's Douglas. Behind the scenes, with Payne's father, stood Mr. Sea- man with Mr. Joseph D. Fay who had com- posed the introductory prologue. 121 Payne's handsome looks and his lithe, agile figure won him instant favor. His success was complete. The papers of the day following his debut were extremely warm in his praise. Mr. Dunlap, who was present, says in his History of the American Stage, "the applause was very great. Boy actors were then a novelty, and we have seen none since that equalled Master Payne." Payne made his debut at an age most dis- advantageous to himself: — "Too young to enforce approbation by robust, manly exer- tion of talents; too far advanced to win over the judgment by tenderness," ^ or his audi- ence by the novelty of extreme youth as had been the case with Master Betty. Payne's success under this handicap is indicated by the well deserved complimentary notices he received. Following the perform- ance a supper was given in his honor at the house of Mr. Price, the manager, and later he was invited to make Mr. Price's house his home during his stay in New York. Determined, in deference to his father's wishes, to keep aloof from the profession, Payne adopted the policy of making short ^ The Mirror of Taste, February, i8io. 122 engagements. His engagement in New York was for six nights only; but having one night to spare, before his departure for Boston, where he had his next engagement, he per- formed on the seventh for his own benefit. Despite the rigors of a cold stormy night, Payne's share for this performance was four- teen hundred dollars. On closing his New York engagement he had the misfortune to lose his temper, and in a moment of childish impetuosity he deeply irritated Mr. Price. It was part of the terms of Payne's engagement that he was to be supplied with the dresses made for him. The finery of these dresses strongly appealed to him. When his wardrobe was sent home to be packed for the journey he found all the finery taken away. On summoning Mr. Price he was told that though the dresses were his, the ornaments were taken from those of Mr. Cooper, and had been restored to him. Payne was furious and a heated argument ensued. The result of his attitude in this matter was far-reaching, both with regard to Mr. Price and Mr. Cooper. As the result of his success in the New York engagement, Payne's fame began to spread. 123 From the letter^ of one who witnessed his performances in New York we find such praise as this: — "I have seen Master Payne in Douglas, Zaphna, Selim and Octavian, and may truly say I think him superior to Master Betty in all. There was one scene of his Zaphna which exhibited more taste and sen- sibility than I have witnessed since the days of Garrick. He has astonished everybody." Payne's first appearance in Boston was at the Old Federal Street Theater, on April 2, 1809, also in the character of "Young Nor- val." His success here was even greater than It had been in New York and his recep- tion amounted almost to an ovation. From Boston Payne returned to New York. The seeds of strife he had sown on the ter- mination of his former engagement now bore fruit. Concerning his second New York engagement he wrote to Robert Treat Paine, Jr., on June 11, 1809, — "I was bullied on the one hand, and preached on the other, into a compliance with the meanest, most niggardly terms ever im- ^ Life and Writings of John Howard Payne. G. Harrison. Page 38. 124 posed on a poor Stroller; one half the re- ceipts of a seventh night, for playing six. Cooper was here when I came. He treated me very cavalierly. We met at a large dinner party given by the manager, but did not speak. In Broadway his Majesty and myself, the great and little Roscius, frequently brushed by each other, without ^crooking the pregnant hinges of the knee' keeping up all the dignity of two tragedy Heroes. I find a strong party formed against me; and it consists exclu- sively of Cooper's parasites. One of them declared to a friend of mine that / was not aware of the extent of injury my pocket and reputation had sustained on account of my not fawning to Mr. Cooper and the Manager II Cooper, without putting up his name, had ^looo to his benefit and last night of per- formance. I had ^755, and by some comi- cal manoeuvring not one third of the city knew it was my benefit. My houses aver- aged above ^500, — extraordinary for the season." It had been Payne's intention, after com- pleting this engagement, to go to England; but after remaining in New York until Au- 125 gust he decided to give up the project and to set about securing engagements for the com- ing "Winter's business." Having heard from many sources that Mr. Wm. Warren was desirous of securing his services for an en- gagement at his theaters in Philadelphia and Baltimore, Payne wrote on August 5 to make the necessary terms and arrangements. — "Respecting Terms, I should prefer that all propositions originate with yourself; and shall merely observe that the novelty of my appearance and the peculiar circumstances of my situation promise a profitable specula- tion on your side, and consequently justify the hope of good terms on mine. "The characters which I play are Norval, Zaphna, Selim, Tancred, Octavian, Rolla, Ham- let, Romeo, Frederick, Lothair, Hastings, and Edgar in King Lear. To me it appears good policy to limit all engagements to seven nights; and should public approbation jus- tify it to repeat a visit of the same length at some distant interval of the same season. Prior to anything else I should choose to understand that the plays are to be thor- oughly rehearsed before representation; and 126 that the female counterparts should be given to persons petite in figure as myself. I men- tion thus emphatically the first of these arti- cles, having suffered not a little from the delinquency of others." There is strong evidence to show that either because of his trouble with Mr. Price and Mr. Cooper or because he insisted upon holding to the terms under which he played on his first engagement, there was now arrayed against Payne a very powerful combination for the purpose of preventing his obtaining engage- ments at the various theaters. Satisfactory arrangements could not be concluded with Mr. Warren, and in September Payne drifted to Providence, Rhode Island. His reception here, while there was no theater open for him to act in, seems to have been most affectionate. The Rhode Island Ameri- can of September 26, thus speaks of his Provi- dence visit: — "This town has recently been indulged with a visit from Mr. Payne, better known by the name of the American Roscius. When his panegyricks were running the newspaper rounds, we preserved an obstinate and stub- 127 born incredulity. Puffs of this kind are so common and so indiscriminately bestowed that they seemed to us evidence as decisive that the subject did not merit them, as that he did. Chance, or unexpected good for- tune, at length gave us the more decisive testimony of ears and eyes. From repeated evidences of this kind, we are happy now to concur in those applauses." Subsequent to his visit to Providence, his means reduced by lack of employment, Payne in despair wandered to Baltimore trusting to obtain an engagement on any terms. He ar- rived in Baltimore an utter stranger with one letter, principally on business regarding an- other person, and with only a shilling in his pocket. Strolling listlessly about the streets in search of the theater, he chanced to notice the sign of the bookstore to which his letter was addressed. He noticed a group of per- sons there listening to a letter. On mention- ing his name the bookseller, Edward J. Cole, caught him by the hand, and leading him to the group exclaimed, "This is he!" Mr. Jonathan Meredith and Mr. Alexander Con- tee Hanson stepped forward. These gentle- men told Payne that they were just reading a 128 letter from a friend in New York telling of a theatrical combination to put him down. They bade Payne have no fear of this combi- nation. He was at once taken to Mr. Mere- dith's house, and both Mr. Meredith and Mr. Hanson espoused his cause with great enthu- siasm. Through the interest of these gen- tlemen and their friends Payne closed engage- ments in Baltimore, Philadelphia, and several other southern cities, on very lucrative terms. The announcement of Payne's first ap- pearance in Baltimore created a degree of excitement and enthusiasm unprecedented in the history of the drama in that city. He played in Baltimore for twelve consecutive nights, and at the close of his engagement went to Philadelphia, where he enjoyed re- ceptions similar to those he had received in other cities. His Philadelphia engagement of ten nights terminated on December 22, with a benefit of ^1408. The best of his other nights was ^1376 to Hamlet. From his two engagements at Baltimore and Philadelphia he netted between ^3000 and ^3200, accord- ing to a letter written to John Barnard on December 23, 1809. 129 From Philadelphia Payne went to Richmond, concluding his engagement there on Janu- ary 6. At Richmond his profits were beyond all precedent in that city. The first citizens gave him their kindest welcome; and it was at this time that he became intimate with the family of Colonel Mayo. After the Richmond engagement Payne was at leisure until March, and we have reason to believe that during the interim he paid a visit to the Hermitage, Colonel Mayo's country seat, just outside of Richmond. Sometime later there appeared in the papers some verses In praise of Miss Mayo. As these verses were spread broadcast, — and also appear in the collection ^ of Payne's poems, — a letter written by him on October 6, 1810, to Major Gibbon is of interest regarding their publication. "I take the liberty of commissioning you to explain an affair which has given me much uneasiness, because it Implies a kind of In- delicacy of which I should blush to believe myself capable. I refer to the publication of some sportive verses in praise of a lady who ^ Juvenile Poems, London, 181 5. Life and Writings of John Howard Payne, G. Harrison. Page 310. 130 is much belov'd in your domicile, and a favorite wherever she is known. I have waited some time, hoping to see Miss Mayo in New York, that I might personally exonerate myself from the censure to which this un- pleasant business must expose me, while the circumstances attending it are kept in darkness. "You are requested to state that I had no agency in ushering the lines in question before the public. A copy of them was uncere- moniously taken from my room in George- town by a visitor and by his means printed, notwithstanding my earnest and repeated desire that it should go no farther either in type or manuscript. I am proud of having it known how highly I esteem Miss Mayo, and am conscious that the lines now spoken of are in every way unworthy such a subject. But my objections to printing them arose not so much from the incompleteness of the verses as from the effects which might follow the act itself. I was certain that Miss Mayo would shrink from that glare of public notice to which a newspaper compliment, however humble, would expose her; and was unwilling to excite a belief that I thought her capable 131 of deriving pleasure from such praise; a kind of praise to which she could listen and pre- serve that sweet modesty which ranks among the loveliest attractions of her sex, and which we so much admire in Milton's description of our Mother Eve who started back and fled from her own shadow in the lake. "I do not know that Miss Mayo has seen these verses which by a miserable conceit too plainly indicate her name and residence; but having noticed them in almost every paper be- tween Alexandria and Boston, I think it more than probable that they may have appeared in Richmond. At any rate you will oblige me by becoming a pleader in my behalf; and tho' I have too much respect for Miss Mayo to believe that she has not been offended, yet I think she has urbanity enough to forgive me after this explanation. Almost the whole of my short acquaintance with Miss M has been passed in making apologies and I hope that this is the last trial I may give her pa- tience, and the last opportunity I may afford her of proving that she can be merciful." Payne fulfilled an engagement at Charles- ton, S. C, and subsequently played in Nor- 132 folk and Petersburg, Va., and in August, in the city of Washington; adding to his laurels with each engagement. Before proceeding to Washington he paid a visit to his old friends in Baltimore. His visit must have been pleas- ant, for on July ii, he writes Miss Caroline Crafts : — "My stay in Baltimore was enlivened by the company of a charming acquaintance, with whom I became almost in love. This acquaintance is a girl of the purest heart; a heart the most sensitive and affectionate. She is young and amiable — not passively amiable — not capable of enduring what dis- pleases her without a murmur — but suffi- ciently true to herself to feel when she had done wrong, and with ingenuous simplicity to confess the error. But what is all this to me? She is placed far, very far, beyond me in the world, and * fortune,' or rather want of for- tune, — 'bids me blush to look on her.' But, oh! — She is beautiful as Spring, and roman- tic as the young enthusiast's dream." It may not be amiss, in this connection, to throw some light on Payne's love affairs. He was never married. He had been engaged to 133 a beautiful and accomplished young lady in Boston, but the engagement was broken by the interference of her parents. Mr. Harri- son tells us that the unsuccessful termination of this affair so affected Payne that he re- mained single throughout his life. Such a condition seems at variance with his nature. Evidence, moreover, tends to show that Payne was not unlike the proverbial sailor, with his "girl in every port." This is not surprising, for he was a social lion wherever he went. His youth, vivacity and attractiveness won him many friends and much attention, and his stays at the various cities he visited, were not unlike the sojourns of a conquering hero. "New friends," writes Payne, "dining parties and ladies' parties, throw me into a state of miscellany; all the et cetera of frothy and insincere fashionable attention keep me in- cessantly busied by that active employment which consists of doing nothing." Certain it is that the number of the opposite sex with whom, at various times, he believed himself desperately In love could not be counted on the fingers of both hands. Let us consider his own ideas on the marriage question, and further, see how he felt about his Baltimore 134 affair, as explained to Miss Caroline Crafts In December, sometime after Its termination: — "You have descanted with force and elo- quence on a subject which Is of much conse- quence; since I am approaching the time when it shall be proper for me to select a female friend who may be my companion and adviser for the rest of my life. You erroneously sup- pose that I have made that selection, and de- rive your belief from some declarations In my last concerning a lady In Baltimore. You even proceed to warn me against the danger of a premature choice, and advise me to wait until time and study shall have Improved my mind, settled my fluctuating feelings and dis- ciplined me not only Into a sedate, but (if such a thing Is possible) elegant gentleman. "My expressions (expressions of hope and regret I mean) concerning the Baltimore lady were sincere; but they proceeded from the heart and not the judgment. Miss G ***** Is a fine girl; she has, like a lute, all the passive powers of musick in her, hut it requires a mas- ter's hand to bring them forth. I know myself well enough to be certain that I do not possess that skill, and should I undertake the delicate task and produce discord Instead of harmony, 135 I should hate the instrument and despise my- self for failing. "I know how many obstacles there are to prevent me from ever forming a connection like that concerning which you warn me. My graceless exterior is the first of these; but altho' a sound mind might dispense with per- sonal beauty, there is another thing, and that is a competent fortune, — which it would be absurd to throw out of the question. Money is essential, not only to comfort, but respect. Without money, wit is folly, and learning dulness; With it, the merest blockhead may become an * oracle.' "Gold buys genius, and no churl will rail When feasts are brilliant, that a pun is stale: Tip wit with gold, each shaft with shouts is flown ; — He drinks champagne, and must not laugh alone: The grape has point, altho' the joke be flat; — Pop! goes the cork — there's epigram in that!!" By the middle of September Payne was back in New York. His father had in the meantime moved there, and had again estab- lished himself in the business of education. 136 Payne's career on the stage, as we have seen, had been varied. "I have been wander- ing," he writes to Robert Treat Paine, Jr., on October 6, 1810, "from one end of the the- atrical hemisphere to the other, with various success. Sometimes I found my pockets so full of money that they would burst, and then again my funds would sink so low that I could not scrape together enough to pay for sewing up the rents which my affluence had created. I have been actively and pleasantly employed, however, in observing men and manners, and you know the interior of a play- house, if it does not present an epitome of the whole world, shews at least that part of it which is most base and ludicrous. It is not half so pleasing to unravel the mysterious causes of the thunder and lightning of the the- ater, and to find out what brings the ghost up from the bottom of the stage, and what lets him down again, as it is to explore the secret springs which actuate the mock Jupi- ters of the drama, who dress themselves out in paper crowns and fancy they are real emperors." It was now time to think of engagements for the coming season. Payne's plan was to make 137 this tour his last, previous to his departure for England in the spring, where he hoped to spend eighteen months in study and obser- vation. Although he planned to present a set of entirely new characters, he met with little success in his search for engagements. Finally in November an engagement was offered to him in Charleston, S. C, to com- mence in February with the race week. Of this he writes to Benjamin Pollard on No- vember 13, 1810: — _ "The terms are so unpromising that I must reject them, altho' I am invited at the most propitious part of the season. The races in Charleston concentrate all the scatter'd no- bility (who are at other times dispers'd, each lord on his plantation) — to one point — and that point is the city. Men of pleasure, sharpers, horse jockies, and puppies who wish to dash, — are also attracted thither by the gaiety and dissipation of the time, and fly into every splendid amusement, — like insects who flutter around the taper and perish in its blaze. That the Drama which is capable of conveying instruction in the sweetest form should be degraded to a mere pastime indicates 138 equal depravity in the taste and morals of its supporters. But this depravity exists; and since there is no help for it Managers must depend upon the idle, profligate and vulgar. The ^judicious few ' are very few indeed. They are always to be found in a theater, like flowers in a desert, but they are nowhere sufHciently numerous to fill one." Completely discouraged, Payne cast about for some new enterprise to replenish his de- pleted fortune. The bookselling business was suggested, and after careful consideration of the scheme, he writes to P. H. Nicklin on December 24, 1810: — "I have finally determined as soon as pos- sible to resign my own profession for it. What condition can be more futile and uncertain than a player's? He ^struts and frets ^ for a domineering populace, who cannot discern the difference between sound and sense. Per- haps he explores the depths of science, ac- quires a profound knowledge of the human heart, and for the application of his skill, is applauded by the 'judicious few:' But he dies — and is forgotten. Tho' his funeral be honorably attended, those very admirers who 139 follow him to the grave, feel, at that moment, a damning kind of regret, which prompts him to wish he had been something better — His memory perishes long before the marble slab which covers him! "As to myself, I never shall make a for- tune whilst I remain a player. Suppose I was long exiled from employ by sickness, or should lose a limb, what would my Imperial Majesty do then? — No breeze is half so variable as the ^aura popularis,^ and since fame alone produces money in this business, one may cal- culate on famine after plenty as certainly as Pharaoh's monitor, without his inspiration. Our allurements to extravagance are so fas- cinating that it positively requires the self denial and frugality of a Joseph so to appro- priate a flood of good fortune as to keep off the ruin which commonly succeeds it. "I should only tire you by detailing my whole plan here, but I must state, before I take my leave, that I have just projected, and mean immediately to get under way, a kind of reading room entitled the 'Literary Exchange,' which is meant for a stepping-stone to a future bookstore. When I get this reading room a-going, it can be managed by my father, 140 while I am attending to my theatrical pur- suits abroad, which cannot be given up, till I shall make something important out of the * Literary Exchange.'" The project of the Literary Exchange was immediately launched. The times, however, were cloudy, subscribers were few, and the eight hundred dollars he was able to collect was scarcely adequate for fitting out the insti- tution, yet the idea was not entirely given up. Again the Stage seemed his only salvation. Could he but struggle on until the tide turned or the managers became more lenient, Payne felt that he could repeat his former successes. On January 23, 181 1, we find him in despair, thus appealing for aid to John Jacob Astor. — "I am in want of fifteen hundred dollars, and having no real property to pledge cannot, without any prospect of success, apply to such people as gain their living by the loan of money. None of my intimate friends are wealthy enough to aid me, and after consid- ering for a long time all the possible means of securing what I wish, I have made up my mind to solicit your assistance, certain that you will oblige me, If convenient; and that 141 even should circumstances compel you to re- ject my application, you will put a proper construction on the motives whence it arose, and respect the feelings which you cannot gratify. "My pride will not allow me to ask this accommodation as a deed of charity, or with- out offering, at least, the same advantages that would result from a deposit in the bank. I can pledge my honor that it shall be paid in twelve, eighteen, twenty-four, and thirty months, with any interest you choose to put upon it; and I will get an insurance made upon my life, which will remove the possibility of your losing anything, in case I should die before the term expires. "You will perhaps wonder what has thrown me so much out of funds as to render such a loan desirable. I can explain this in a few words. "When I first went upon the Stage, I as- sumed all my father's debts, which amounted to three thousand dollars. I took upon my- self the direction of all our family concerns, furnished a house here, and thus added a heavy and constant expense to the current expenses of my profession. My profits until 142 the arrival of Mr. Cooke ^ were adequate to every demand. In less than two years, I re- ceived thirteen thousand dollars, which I de- voted, as fast as it came in, to expenses and old debts, as they were called for. But when I returned to New York last September, I found the Theater shut against me. Soon after, Mr. Cooke arrived. The managers of this and the other Theaters, who have all been prejudiced by improper means against me, were delighted to possess some credible excuse for keeping me off the Stage, and I have, of course, suffered the bitter conse- quences of their opposition. But when Cooke's novelty is over and he shall have play'd out his engagements, this excuse will no longer avail. I have numerous friends in almost every theatrical city, and can fight my way. My object is, first, to go to Charles- ton, where Cooke is not to play, and, if terms are not offered me, to force myself on the Stage there. I can then arrive at Philadel- phia after Cooke's departure, and must take the same course in that city, in Baltimore and * George Frederick Cooke. English actor. Born in 1756. First appeared in America at New York in November, 18 10. Died September 26, 181 1. Cooke's popularity and success suffered greatly from his excessive use of liquor. in Boston. Here, where Cooper, who is de- servedly the God of the people's idolatry and a man of the most inflexible resolution, is pre- dominate, no exertions of mine in that way can succeed. "The experiment which I contemplate may appear to you a wild and uncertain one, — but I have tried it once, and with success, in Baltimore. The consequence was that the managers there have ever since made the first advances toward engaging me, whenever I have visited that city. As this has happened in one instance, I know not why it should not in others. "I think, when I can resume my profes- sional business, there can be no doubt of my realizing enough to fulfill, in the time herein proposed for the payment of this loan, which I solicit, all the conditions on which I propose to receive it, with perfect safety to myself, and without encroaching upon my necessities. My dresses, which have cost me upward of two thousand dollars, are all paid for; my house is furnished, and a great portion of the claims on me are cancelled. Therefore, with half of my former success, I can realize double the emolument. 144 "Consider, for a moment, the peculiar diffi- culties of my situation. The claims against me are great and constant; and I have hith- erto been compelled to appropriate my money as it was received to old family debts, and current expenses. This circumstance, com- bined withsomeextravaganceonmy part which ought to have been avoided, has prevented me from laying up anything; while the abrupt and unexpected arrival of Cooke has put a sudden stop to my receipts, without lessen- ing the demands against me. When an adult whose prospects are fair is pinched for money, he can derive aid from notes of accommoda- tion. But I am a minor. My note is not worth a farthing. If I have no money, bright as my future hopes may be, there is not a bank, not a broker, that will lend me money. I must wait till I can earn it. With an in- teresting family dependent on my labors, can there be anything more distressing than destitution under such disadvantages ? Others expect me to act with the promptness of a man, while my resources are but little more than the resources of a boy! "The sum which I solicit will be appropri- ated in this way, ^500 will be paid away for HS some old claims on my father, ^600 will be devoted to the current expenses of the family, and ^400 I shall take abroad to bear my ex- penses in the project which I have detailed above. In my absence, the Reading Room will be conducted by my father, and proba- bly the subscription list may be increased daily, so as to make that business eventually profitable." As a business proposition this scheme did not appeal to Mr. Astor; nor was he seeking to cover himself with glory by lending ^1500 to a minor without security, and Payne was un- successful in his quest. George Frederick Cooke, whose name is mentioned above, had become the idol of the people and Payne was desirous of meeting him; but as no one offered to introduce him he took occasion to call and introduce him- self. Cooke mentions the call in his journal,* and seems to have been very favorably im- pressed, for of Payne he writes: "I thought him a polite, sensible youth, and the reverse of *our' young Roscius." * Memoirs of the Life of George Frederick Cooke. Wm. Dunlap. New York. 18 13. Vol. II, Pg. 184. 146 The friendship thus started, continued to grow. Toward the latter part of January Cooke's popularity began to wane, and Payne was invited by the managers to act with him. "Notwithstanding the kindness with which he treated Master Payne," says Mr. Dunlap in his life of Cooke, "and the terms of approba- tion with which he spoke of him, — to have a boy called in to support him, wounded his pride so deeply, that he could not conceal his irritation, or its cause." Cooke's attitude deeply hurt Payne, for he had been induced to accept the terms of the engagement, which were not to his liking, more to improve every chance of contemp- lating this great actor than in the expectation of pecuniary reward. Hoping to adjust mat- ters, and above all not to lose his friend, Payne hastened to write to Cooke. — "Mr. Price says that you will not perform again till your return from Philadelphia. After the flattering assurances which I have received of your desire to aiford me all the aid in that way which it is in your power to give I cannot believe that you decline playing from any wish to gall my pride or lessen my pecun- 147 iary profits. I have told Mr. Price that your not appearing must make a difference in the current receipts and have requested him to vary in consequence my terms. He declares that he will not do so, and adds that he is of the opinion that you are in reality well, but that my engagement had induced you to feign sickness. Forgive me for troubling you thus. If you are sick, Mr. Price will need extraneous aid and ought to pay for it. If you are not, and / am the cause of your not wishing to appear, I promise to relinquish my engagement, and shall require no explanation, but remain as ever, with the highest respect for your talents, Your friend. Etc." Cooke persistently feigned illness whenever he was announced to play with Payne, and only once did they appear together, when on March i, 1811, Cooke played Lear to Payne's Edgar, for the benefit of the latter. The proceeds of this engagement afforded but temporary relief. It was as hard after- ward as before for Payne to secure engage- ments, and the next few months were spent in going from place to place in the hope that something would turn up. During this period 148 Payne played a five days' engagement at Al- bany, opening on April 5, as Octavian in The Mountaineers. During the engagement he and his company gave Hamlet, and it is probable that this is the first ^ cast of the play to appear in Albany. To his friend Mr. Gwynn, who suggested that he should come to Baltimore, Payne writes on August 14: — "Why should I come to Baltimore in pref- erence to any other place, when misery and mortification meet me at every turn? But my soul is like the potter's clay, — it hardens as the flame grows fiercer. I am, however, so near Richmond that I must go there first. My pride, too, is interested. I am disposed to appear fearlessly among the players and shew them that I will not retreat after being once foiled. Possibly I may there get an en- gagement by some means. At any rate, I can meet and resist calumny, and I will sacrifice my life sooner than my honest pride." In September Payne made a tour through the "rude and desolate" mountains of Vir- * Players of a Century. A Record of the Albany Stage. H. P. Phelps. Albany, 1880. Page 34. 149 ginia. On the twenty-fifth he arrived in Baltimore to make a final effort to secure engagements for the coming season. To his petition the majority of the stockholders of the Baltimore Theater gave their consent to his use of the house could he gather together a company to play there during the fall and winter, adding their signatures to a request to Messrs. Warren & Wood that they grant the use of the scenery on reasonable terms. Unfortunately this plan fell through. Better fortune, however, awaited him, and a letter to his sister Eloise on November ii, shows that the tide had, at least for the moment, turned: — "The difficulties which have given you so much uneasiness are disappearing, and I have two engagements now, — one for twelve nights in Philadelphia and the other for the same term in Boston, which must yield me a handsome profit — enough to carry us thro another year. In addition to this I am en- gaged in some literary work which when com- pleated, must produce me a comfortable in- come and will not be attended with any risk. I play in Philadelphia the first week in De- 150 cember; and whatever you can conveniently spare before that time you will oblige me by sending to our father; for myself I can scrape along well enough — the kindness of your offer to me shall never be forgotten, altho I do not avail myself of It. "With regard to the other points in ques- tion I am determined not to relinquish my present profession until I shall have galn'd a competency from my exertions in it; — be- cause the pursuit of that object stimulated me to undertake it in the beginning, and the attainment of that object will be its only jus- tification in the end. "If I could realize a moderate fortune as a 'Traglclan,' that fortune would give me more than a * pasteboard triumph,' and would place my secession in such a point of view as to ad- vance my prospects in any other enterprise which it might be expedient to undertake." It had been the agreement that Payne should play one week in Philadelphia, and then play a second engagement; this fact was to be kept a secret until the first had passed off. For his second engagement Payne prepared himself in a new set of characters consisting of Rolla {Virgin of the Sun), Orestes, Venoni, Alexander, Osman (Zara), and Oronooko, and for these characters he purchased an entire new wardrobe. He opened in Philadelphia on December 9, with Octavian. He had been led to believe that he would be given the holidays for his second engagement, but when after a few days he came to make arrangements he was informed by Mr. Wood, the manager, that he "certainly could not be so mad as to expect him to give up the holidays." "You must," added Mr. Wood, "suspend your engagement during them, and renew it so that it may terminate in the first ten days of January." "Before I wrote the final an- swer to Wood, dated on the twentieth," says Payne in a letter to William Gwynn,^ "I knelt in my chamber and prayed with much earnestness that our Maker would endow me with power to settle this matter properly." The whole Philadelphia affair was a disap- pointment. After all the trouble to which Payne had gone to appear in new characters, * Letter to William Gwynn, December 24, 181 1. Payne details the whole affair, giving copies of his own and Mr. Wood's letters. the other parts of only two were made ready by the manager, and the rest not even cast. In this as in other affairs connected with the engagement Mr. Wood seems to have placed every obstacle in Payne's way. Of the engagement Payne writes in the same letter to Gwynn ; — "My benefit on Monday, Alexander the Great, first time, was ^539. The two last nights, seven and eight, the overplus above my real engagement, we lost ^150, ^50 ^ piece, which I should think ought in justice to be given up, but this ^50 has been charged against me, so that in all I receive for all my efforts, and as the end of all my hopes, three hundred dollars. "My constant prayer is for fortitude. My friend, the world frowns on me, but God will not forsake me. I feel now, however, the value of every trifling attention and the sting of every trifling neglect." Soon after the Philadelphia disappointment Payne returned to New York, leaving there on February 3, to fulfill his engagement in Boston. Before going to Boston he succeeded after much bickering in closing an engagement 153 with Mr. Wood for his Baltimore house, later in the season. From Boston Payne wrote to Mrs. R. P. Air on March 3 : — "I am sick of the Theater and everything connected with it. Two thirds of the actors are as unreal in private as they are in public. Their souls like their triumphal cars are made of gilded pasteboard. In less than two years I hope to take an eternal farewell of the profession, and then, my dear friend, I will assume as a right that standing in society which is now conceded to me as a favor. ''^ The Boston engagement was another finan- cial failure, and Payne writes of it to his sister Eloise on March 5, 1812: — "My success here has been so inconsider- able, that were I not blest with some trifling fortitude, it would have made me, combined with other disappointments, wretched beyond endurance or description." Now when everything seemed dark again the blackest cloud of all appeared on the hori- zon. On March 7, his father breathed his last, and on receipt of the news Payne has- IS4 tened to New York to do what was In his power to straighten out his affairs. "When I reached New York," he says in his letter to Mrs. Air, "while my features were undisturbed, my heart was bursting. When I enter'd our home and my eye glanced upon those objects every one of which brought my departed father before my eyes, reason became extinct and I surrendered myself at once to tears and sorrows." Even from this last and greatest affliction Payne emerged with the most admirable for- titude. How really exquisite is his accept- ance of his fatel On March 17, 1812, he thus writes to the Reverend William Ellery Channing: — "Whatever trials I may be called to endure (and I have recently seen many, very many) I shall endeavor to sustain the worst that can happen, with firmness and submission and to remember in the midst of misery that * when Heaven afflicts, 'tis virtue to endure.'" It is probable that at this time, the project of the Literary Exchange, which had been carried on in a small way by Payne's father, was definitely abandoned. In April Payne fulfilled his Baltimore en- 155 gagement. His financial success was only moderate, and the engagement was rendered most unsatisfactory by Mr. Wood's refusing, on the fulfillment of the contract, to pay him the sum ^354-75, to which he considered him- self entitled. The matter was finally ad- justed by Payne's playing one extra night, upon which the amount claimed by him was paid. During a private visit to Baltimore in June, 1812, the printing office of his friend Mr. Alexander Hanson, who edited and pub- lished The Federal Republican, was destroyed by a political mob. Payne had never for- gotten the kindness of Mr. Hanson on his first visit to Baltimore, and he at once offered his assistance in the re-establishment of the paper. His offer was promptly accepted, and it is probable that the service he rendered was of the greatest help. In October, when things were again running smoothly, Payne was of- fered an important position on the paper. Al- though he had been living on borrowed money ever since June, Payne decided against ac- cepting the offer. He explains his refusal in a letter to George Richards, Jr., on October 24, 181 2: — 156 "You cannot need to be assured that my reasons for declining the offer are totally dis- connected with objections to the situation, which I should be proud to occupy, — but they arise from the load of embarrassment which I am compelled to remove, previous to my permanently settling in any way." There had been working for some time, in the theatrical world, a scheme of opposition to the "Trust." In July, William Twaits accepted the management of the "Opposition Theaters," and from him Payne endeavored to secure engagements for the fall season. It is probable that he met with some success, and that he fulfilled minor contracts (and further gave recitations, relieved by instru- mental music) in several of the southern cities during the Fall. In December, through the friendship and generosity of Mr. Hanson and Mr. Meredith, with the aid of several other friends and ad- mirers, the opportunity that he had long sought for was given to Payne. A purse of $2000 was raised for the purpose of affording him a year's stay in Europe, so that he might have a wider field for the exercise of his talents 157 and better opportunities for their improve- ment by study and travel. The trip was in- tended to be merely one of improvement, and Payne purposed to remain just long enough to create some curiosity on his return to America, when he intended to make a fare- well tour of the theaters, and quit the Stage forever. On February 27, 18 13, he thus writes to the Reverend T. Houlbrouke: — "Absence will give a zest to my re-appear- ance in America, leisure, study and observa- tion will enable me to supply the defects of a superficial education, and at the same time to pave the way for a future establishment as a bookseller in America." It was, then, with keen anticipation of the new world that lay before him that on the seventeenth of January, 18 13, Payne set sail for Liverpool in the brig Catherine Ray. 158 The reading of old letters is ever a delight- ful pastime, and the pleasure derived is en- hanced in proportion to the prominence at- tained by the writer or the topic on which he writes. In a measure we become despotic over Time and are permitted to enter into the secrets and very souls of the great men of the Past. The early letters of John Howard Payne form a striking example of this. Nothing is concealed, — his thoughts, his feelings, his hopes, plans and disappointments, all invite our inspection and lead us through the maze of conjecture to an understanding of his true character. We find Payne to have been a youth of a proud and extremely sensitive nature, hasty in forming plans and prompt and zealous in carrying them out; a youth, quick-tempered, generous to a fault, extravagant, and yet his first and warmest wish, a desire to relieve his father from the burden of supporting the family. At the age of thirteen, thrown on his own 159 resources, and almost immediately becoming the center of an admiring throng, it is little wonder that his friends were apprehensive of the ultimate outcome. At fourteen he had attracted considerable attention by his acting and especially by his dramatic criticisms. At sixteen he had written most of the verse published by him in 1813 as "Juvenile Poems," and had also made his first attempts at play-writing. In other words, Payne, although so young, had al- ready foreshadowed the chief activities of a long and eventful life — his acting, dramatic criticism, song-writing and his plays. His acquaintance with Dr. Nott seems one of the most fortunate occurrences of his life, for thus proper guidance was given at the period when it was most needed. In the frequent excursions that displeased Mr. Seaman I can find nothing noticeably worthy of condemnation, and it will have been noticed that in nearly every case Payne was under the care of some responsible person or was absent by permission of either Dr. Nott or his father. The friction with Mr. Seaman seems rather to have been caused pri- marily from the fact that Payne failed to 160 show a sense of obligation to his benefac- tor in proportion to the liberality of that gentleman. That Payne did not achieve a lasting fame as a great actor is due largely to the fact that from the time he entered professionally upon a theatrical career, he regarded the stage solely as a means of discharging his debts. Had that love of the theater which first led Payne to it as an amateur remained the same when he came to it as a professional his name might have gone down in history as one of the fore- most actors that America has produced. Payne's later career "was the unhappy one of disappointment, a history of baffled aims, a life nowise proportioned to boyish promise."^ His achievements were the less remarkable the older he grew. His struggles were like the "flutter of a bird against its bars, trying them all in turn, and all in vain."^ Payne did not return to America from Europe until 1832. "Complimentary bene- fits in Boston, New Orleans, and New York awaited him, public receptions and dinners, * From the Oration by Leigh Robinson at the unveiling of the monument at Oak Hill Cemetery, June 9, 1883. 2 Ibid. 161 for all which he returned his acknowledg- ments in the graceful terms which never failed him. But the projects which thence- forth engaged his attention were the desperate aftergame of life; international reviews, sacred history, Cherokee Indians, and what not, — projects of a fertile rather than a prac- tical brain. Finally came the consulship to Tunis in 1842, recalled in 1845, renewed in 1 85 1. There amid the dusky aspects and the fallen columns of that ancient land, there in the shadow of the broken and dejected col- umn of his own life," ^ Payne passed away on the 9th of April, 1852, in the sixty-second year of his life. * From the Oration by Leigh Robinson at the unveiling of the monument at Oak Hill Cemetery, June 9, 1883. 162 BIBLIOGRAPHY Original manuscript letter book, in the hand writing of John Howard Payne, containing copies of letters written by him from 1804 to 18 19. Original letters and manuscript of poems in the possession of Union College. The Thespian Mirror, — A Periodical Publi- cation, Comprising a Collection of Dramatic Biography, Theatrical Criticism, Miscellaneous Literature, Poetry, etc. By John Howard Payne. New York, Southwick & Hardcastle, 1806. The first number of the Thespian Mirror made its appearance on December 28, 1805, the four- teenth and last on May 31, 1806. The four- teenth number has become an extreme rarity, there being but five sets known containing this number. The set in the author's possession is complete and was formerly in the library of Philip Hone, at one time Mayor of New York. The Pastime. — A periodical issued by John Howard Payne while a student at Union College. The first number made its appearance on Feb- ruary 21, 1807, and the thirty-sixth and last, on June 18, 1808. The set in the possession of the author is complete. Memoirs of the Life of George Frederick Cooke. Wm. Dunlap. New York, 1813. 163 Memoirs of John Howard Payne, the American Roscius; with Criticisms of his Acting, in the various theaters of America, England and Ireland. London, 1815. This is the first published sketch of the early life of Payne, and while the volume contains much of value it is chiefly made up of transcripts of articles dealing with Payne's acting. The New York Mirror. — November 24, 1832. The New York Mirror. — December i, 1832. The articles appearing in the Mirror under the above dates, written by Mr. Theo. S. Fay are perhaps the most authentic accounts of Payne's life that have as yet appeared. Players of a Century. — A Record of the Al- bany Stage. H. P. Phelps. Albany, 1880. John Howard Payne, Dramatist, Poet, Actor and Author of " Home, Sweet Home." His Life and Writings. By Gabriel Harrison. Philadel- phia, 1885. John Howard Payne. A Biographical Sketch of the Author of "Home, Sweet Home." By Charles H. Brainard. Washington, D. C, 1885. The Mirror of Taste, and Dramatic Censor. — Philadelphia, 1810-1811. 164 N*. I. THE THESPIAN MIllROIl SATIRDAV EVENING, DECEMBER 2S, 1305. (€o tljt public. " 7o r::ake the soul bij tender strokes of art. " To ri.7«f tficgenhdi and to mend the Item (, " To make mankind in conscious virtue hold, " Live <*er each scene, aud t}e vjfud thcu behold ; *' For this the Tragic muae Jirst trod ike stage, " Commanding tears, to stream thro^ ev'rtj age, " Tyrants no more their savage nature kept, " And foes to virtue, luonderd how tliey wept .'"' IN presenting the- piesent sheet to the enlij-^hteiied citizen? of NEW-YORK, as a specimen in matter and manner of a work which on s'jHicient encouracrement will be issued in tiiis metropolis, the editor would observe that it is proposed to comprehend a colh'otion of interesting documents relative to the STAGE, and its performers; chiefly intended to pro- mote the interests of the AMERICAN DRAMA, and to erauicute false impressions respecting the nature, objects, design and tendency of theatrical amusements. It cannot be denied that the stage, is cu^culated for pur- poses, at once, the most laudable and usefa). Fronj its glowing and impressive representations, the Tyvanc is induced to relax his wonted severity, the hand of Avarsce is opened to the generous influence of Benevolence; the wan- tonness of the piofligate, is succeeded by philosophic thoughtfulncss ; die asperity of Misanlliropy is sGtV&Ue Vol. r. No. 1 j2Jisis^EaikmmmHi^M 2 THESPIAN MIRROR. into charity and cheerfulness ; the conscience of the criminal is struck to repentance, and those absurdities and foUic;' which pervade the " Living manners as they i-iscy" and are not immediately cognizable by the criminal or canon laws, are made to shrink and retire before the iash of dra- matic satire : " Safe from the bar, the pulpit and the throne, " Yet touched and shatnd by ridicule alone .'" Under these impressions, the EDITOR of the THESPIAN MIRROB^ ventures to present his work to the public eye.; and though it comes forward un introduced, and without any other recommendation, than its own merits, he is induced to hope, that the little stranger will be received with civility, judged with candor, and, (if consistent with its deserts) be rewarded by the cheerful beams of public patronage. Having said thus much, the editor, respectfully submits the publication, and its plan-^ to the candid exammation of the community at large, anticipating, (while he espouses the cause of the stage, as the epitome of men and manners, and the teacher of virtue and morality,) his reward in the encouraging patronage of the citizens of new-york, to whom the publication is respectfully dedicated, by The Editor. ^riectctr. REMARKS ON THE THEATRE. IF the observation which has been frequently made, bea jostone, tliat " nothing has a more cunsidcrnble and immediate influence upon the m/inners of a people than the turn xuhich public amuseincnts take among them,"' it will constitute, we think, a strong argument in behalf of a THE ATR E. For whilst the exhibitions of the stage are capable of giving the most exquisite entertainment, tliey forcibly convey the most important instruction to a rational audience ; and are therefore agreeable and useful sehools of refined manners, of generous and manly sentiment, of prB- THESPIAN MIRROR. 3 elciit and virtuous conduct. To deny that this is really the case, would be obstinate piejudice. The sages oi' Greece and Koine, and the cii- ijghtened of latter times, in their entoniiums oiitheDiama, irave jiuii- iied the assertion. Experienct has done "itiore — it lias exeiriplihed it. Let us but reroHect the oJficessLwX ends of the Drama, its pretensions -"'' -..-~~-or^ and we shall not hesitate in forming a true judgment of its merit. Its first endeavour is to touch the heart ; its next to mend it. For the former purpose, a polished diction and an elevation of ser.timent, are extremely necessary: to effect the latter, propriety of fable, inte- resting situation, variety of character, and, above all, morality oflcssOn, are esseniialiy requisite. These are perfections wiiich tiiepof/ wiil fur- nish. It will be the business of tlie acior, by tlie vivid force of represen- tation, to give them a peculiar influence over themiiid. It IS well known, that in dramatic exhibitious, of all others, the hu- man genius has opportunities of exerting and dispiaymg itself, in the most agreeable, tlie most engaging light, and perhaps to the greatest advan- tage. In them all the powers of oratory, ail tht; variety of expression of which action or language are capable, and all the graces of delivery, aie to be displayed. From the stu^e, where Roscius exercised all the energies of rhetoric, the '•laanter in7nodo,and thcfortiter iiircCiCERO caught that animated manner of composition and elocution, to which he owed h\sja}ne and its immortality. According to Aristotle, iUe epic poem is purely an imitation ; whereas the dramatic h action itself. The former imitates by narration, the lat- ter rises into actual existence, kindles into forcible hfe, and is the very story it would represent. Its general business, among the ancients, was the instruction of mankind. The dignity of its original institution it still maintains. Prodesse ct delectare is still its grand characteristic. And •without saying too much of a well regulated Theatre, we may safely afiirm that, in no other school are 7noral senti?nait 3.m\ refined 77iamier&mort emphatically enforced ; or vice, and fol/y more effectually discountenanc- ed. Its scenes give a finished display of life and manners ; and exhibit in the most amiable dress, in representations the most affVcting, all the dignity which manly virtue gives to the human character, and the honour and happiness with which it rewards its possessor. Moral goodness is rendered familiar to us, and appears truly amiable when set before us in such an affecting and engaging manner. As a good picture strikes the mind with greater force, and gives a more lively idea of the object repre- sented by it than any description by words can do, so, to represent pro- priety of behaviour in precepts does not move the atFections so powerfully as when we see it delineated in example. Narration is fiequently unaf- fecting. Didactic discourse, cold and uninteresting. But where cha- racter is personified, and historical events exhibited, attention will be captivated, and a communication for virtuous sentiment opened to the heart. The great maxims of happiness so recommended to mankind, by introducing them thus adorned with all the graces of description, elo- quence and poetry, cannot fail of interesting, and making a deep and lasting impression on the mind. We insensibly learn to form just and impartial opinions" of human life. Every air.iable affection, every hu- man feeling, every generous sentiment is called forth, and cherished in (he breast. Ob the theatre^ also, the turpitude and deformity of vice are so strikingly represented, and so severely lashed, that the spectator shrinks with horror from its view, and is most effectually warned and taught to escape its dominion. The painful lessons of experience are snared. Prudence and wisdom are learned from tlie wretched conse- quences of guilt, tliere painted and described. 4 THESPIAN MIIIROK. More particiiiariy in tlie cataelrnphe, where the poet and actor exert Ihe'u utmost stretch of ability to rouse every feeling of the audience, are the passions excited, and improved, the miiid filled with the most noblfi ideas, and l!ic heart awakened to the most generous emotions. It is said that by these means, thai eminent tyrant, Alexander of Phercea, wh>) had passed his hfc in an uninterrupted series of cruelties, withojl commisi ration and without remorse, wa-. melted iHto tears at the exhibit. on of a tragedy, where the plTects of caiamiiy on the mind of the safferer were expre.ssly set forth before his imai^ination. His heart \va iiude to feel a kindly pity ; and gradually softened into a tender re- gret fo; the misery in which his own ambition and barbarity had involv- ed others. Charmed with tlie noble senlini'^nts of the poet, and atifected by Ui^ pathet description, accent a. d gesture of the actor, he felt, per- haps for t'irt rii>t time, with high delight, tlie sweet emotions which synijjath^ excite^. If scenic lepresentations co\ik\ inspire a tyrant with the tender sensibi- lities annexed to humanity and benevolence: such as are less deficient in feeling, they may encourage in goodness ;ind strengthen in virtue, such as are equally insensible thev will have a tendency to mollify and reclaim. " As a perfect T rag erf?/," says the elegant ^fWi'so/j , "is the noblest production of human nature, so it is capable of giving the mind one of the most delightful, and most improving enteTtd\nmt^n[%. Diversions of this kind wear out of our thoughts every thing that is mean and little. They cherish and cultivate that humanity which is the ornament of our nature. They soften insolence, soothe affliction, and subdue the mind to the dispensations of Providence. It is no wonder, therefore, that in all the polite nations of the world, this part of the drima has met with public encouragement '* Nor is Co/«erf?/ unimportant, or uninteresting. Designed to shew the incoiivenienciea arising from imprudent conduct, and irregular sallies of j)assinn, to ridicule the follies and vices which fashion may have intro- diici d, or habit and pride sanctioutd, and to represent the true source of private enjoyments from social atfections, from the judicious choice of acquaintance and from amiable and discreet conduct ; it would also di- rect in the conduct of life, and form the mind to virtue. We shall now beg leave to conclude the subject for the present saying ■with Horace, ot the ^ctor : " Jlle }ueum cui pectus inuniter angit, Irrital mulcet, falsis ierroribus implet, Ut magus ; et modo mc Thehis. 7nodn ponit AtherdsP " 'Ti« he taho gives my breast a thousand paint. Can make me feel each passion that k€ feigns ; Enrage, compose, vcitk more than magic art, IVitlt pay and with Urrcr tear my heart ; And snatch me, o'er the earth, a.s thro* the air, £o Tliebes, to Athens, when he will, or where." Pope. THF:SPrAN MIRROR. s ©riginuL Some Account of the Life of Mr. Fennel, the celehrated Tragedian. DESCENDED from a family of ihe first respectability, in Jjoiuion, Mr. Fennel rccieved a lii^er^ledu. ation, and was originally intended for the pursuit of u^.e law : but a strong pjediiection for the stage, indvir.ed him early t-^ resign his Blackstone i'or the more attractive pages of Sha K.Si'i.ARE : and liis theatrical pasr.io.i being indulged without the consent ut his friends, whose prejudices were equally invincible on the ■one side, as his on the other, he selected Edinburgh as being distant from his residence, for hii lirst tliea'rical essay, where he performed in 1787, the parts of Jaffier, Othello, &o. with great applause, and under the assumed name of Camoray. Mr. Fennel's great and unexpected success at Edinburgh, induced iiim to contemplate a successful reception at Lontlon, to which place he soon after returned. On his arrival here, he called on Mr. Harris (without mtroduction of any kind). ...but having spened his business, and recited a few passages of dramatic compo?itions before this gentleman, Mr. Harris was so highly gratified by iliese specimens of his ability, that a night was immediately fixed for his debut at Coxeiit Garden, where he ran through liis principal ciiaracters with much success ; but still re- taining his fictitious name. The increasing fame of Mr. Fennel, induced the manager of the Edin- burgh Theatre to wish his return to their stage, where he had proceeded, and played there some time with approbation, "till one eveiiin<5 bein» an- nounced to perform the character of Jaffier, and the gentleman who had formerly represented it (Mr. Wood) was fixed for Pierre , but enraged at the exchange, though the characters have ever been deemeti equally good, Mr. Wood complained of the injustice of the manager (probably from motives of envy to Mr. Fennel) to his friends. Iviaded with in- vectives by the Plebeian critics of the town, he was called upon to make an humiliating apology, which he would not submit to ; a law case en- sued on both sides, which lasted a longtime, but was of more expence to all parties, thanprofit to any-. .if we may except the lavjijers. Immediately after this singularly infamous atfair, Mr. Fennel quitted the stage in that city with indignation, and played a short time at York. but \n 1789, he '•eturned to London, where he resumed his siluation for one season, (but without the expected success) at Govent Garuen. He afterwards engaged in a periodica? publication, callefi the " 'rhcatriral 6 THESPIAN MIRROR. Ctisrclian," and produced a comedy entitled " Lindel and Clara, av- ail!!) to Gibraltar ," which has been fiequently performed, and was prinf.ed i79L Not long after this, Mr. Fennel was engaged by the late Mr. Wjg- N£LL, at his A^tn; Theatre in Philadelphia, and met with great success. He has since performed at the various Theatres on the continent ; but, for some reasons unknown to us, (a circumstance to be iani>ented by all lovers of the drama) Mr. Fennel, about two years ago, took leave of liic stage, and has since appeared only occasionally. He is now engaged in an extensive establishrnent o{ Salt IVorks, the plan of inasiufactur- ing which, he has brought to great perfection. Mr. Fennel's deportment is graceful. ...his person majestic, ..his face admirably calculated for the stage.. ..bis action easy and judicious. ...his utrerance distinct and natural he excels in the more weighty charac- ters of the Drama ; his master piece is " Othello, Moor uf Fenice. *' His manners are polished, and his understanding refined. Mr. Fennel's residence is near New-London. He is now on a visit to this city, and we aie happy tohearthat he has been prevailed upon to run through his principal dramatic characters in a few days, on our Stage. IrnitatiG vita:, speculum consuctudinis,ima^o veritatis Cicero, The Imitation ofLife,..the Mirror of Manners. ..the Representation of Truth THEATRICAL REGISTER. " 'TV* 'xith our judgments, as our watches,... none " Go just alike... .but each believe his ov:n. IN commencing a critical and impartial register of the performances of the New-Yop.K Theatre, we would observe that our remarks shall be generous in spirit, and judicious as our understandrng will allow ; not directed to the feeling of individuals, (as i$ too often tiie case in essays^ of this iitttiMc) much less to the injury of the establishment : but always fndeavnviogto interest and improve, we shall strive to be generally candid, and only Blame where we nmst — praise where we can. 7"his premised, we shall comhif^nce out review with a sketch of the entertainment? ior the week last past, when an additional evening was. aHoii-i^d for performance^ on accoant of the customary holidays, at this £Pason (»f the yrar. THESPIAN MIRROR. 7 The ainusemenis for Monday Evening, iatrodiiced (o the notice of the New-York audience, Mr. and Mrs. Young, (wm thcl htaiie Koya!, Norwich, (England) and late of the Boslon Theatre ; for which o< cation (he aoniired opera ot the Mountaineers, was got upwilhconbidcrable success. We l)ave heard that on a sudden iihiess of Mr. Cooper, in tlie Boston Theatre, wiien tiiis play was announced for representation, Mr. Young oflered himself as a substitute for his part, and indctd took it, at an liaif hour's notice. When he came forward, he was received as Mr. Cooper, and during the whole of the second act, was svipposedto he the Anjenc;ni Roscius. It hiid now circulated among the audience, that an jipology had been made for Cooper's non-appearance, previous to llie rise of ihe curtain, before the company was collected, and that Mr, \oung was the Octavian of the evening ! The surprise of tlie spectators w as great : — but iheir admiration of the actoi's ability was greater. We quote this little occurrence only to exemplify that Mr. Young's personation of Octavian was there supposed little inferior to Mr. Cooper'^, as this gentleman had, "ot a long time before, represented the same cha- racter on the "^anie boards. Tlie house on Monday Evening was crouded, and if we may judge from the approbation expreased, generally gia'ified. On the appearance of Octavian the applause was great. Mr. Young has some ver) sulking attitudes, which h.e displays with much grace. IJis voice is bad, and his utterance too precipitate. His person is very well calculated for the stage; and he possesses requisites for an actor, which, with due practice and attention, may procure him eminence. Thofe parts of Ocimv^H whicli require the most energy, such as the introductory soliloquy, tl'C interview with Floranthe, ^c. -were particularly deserving, but m declamaicry speaking, Mr. Young is faulty. It must, however, be allowed, ihiil his" peilormance on this occasion, discovered much talent. We have now to notice Mrs. Youn g, a promising actress, who made hri- debut in Agues. We are told that she is yet a 'novidaic under the baiunrj^ ol the Thespian Muse, and as such she is certainly deserving of every encouragement. Mrs. Johnson as Floranthe could do no otherwise than well:— the other parts were generally respectable. 1 he Spoil'd Child, as the after-piete, gratified us with Littk Fickle by Mrs. Jones ; who in that characti r, to use a common phrase, ''Jnirly out shoivn herself." We can say nothing of the particular beauties of her performance, wiiere the whole was indescribably charming. Old Pickle, by Mr. Hogg, was pertfctly chatacteristic, zr\dTogg the Author, by Mr. Martin, was meritorious. TUESDAY EVENING. The Coiinry Girl, and Harlequin's Imusion, It is always a pleasing task to give merit iU due commendation ; and still more satisfactory, to be warranted in frequent encrmia. VV> at^ confidejit that if praise is duo to any one ou uic AmciKsn Stage, Mrs. e 8 THESPIAN MIRROR. Jo^'F,s is ar.iong the first who deserve \i ; and on no Conner occasion ha^ bhegik'i-n muie^pleasure, llian in her Miss Peggy, ou Taesd4y evening. This cliaracter represents a rural Country Girl, jjossessed of native archness, bui unrefined manners, wilh whom an old it^formed lake is in lovu Sl'-c promises him iu:r iiand. and he cai i-ieb her before marriage, la visit the Bi"itish metropolis. On her emerging from the simple scenes of nature, to winch she had been accustomed, into the gaiety of London, she IS struck, with the novelty of the scenes around her, and at length meets a young man. for whom a mutual attachment is conceived, and the event terminates (at'ler mucli incidental intngue) in the conclusion of a marriage betw<'eii the lovers. There is a similar counterplot, wtiich coi\- cliides nearly in the same manner. it is in pavt.^ like the Country Girl. Ihat Mrs. Jones exceis; and w speak thf opinion of the audience, in observing thai we should never wish to sec Miss /'f^gy better played, even conld ii be excelled. Mr Johnsons Mondtj was very characteristic. Mr. Tyler, in Harcnurt, was perfectly at home. Martin's Sparkish, particularly liie drunken scene, was very well ; but we thought it somewhat oveidone. Mrs. ViL-LERs' Alaihca excited much applause ; we cannot but regard this lady as a valuable acquisition to our stage. Miss White was res- pectable. — «{'®'»»-~ THURSDAV EVENING. George Bar?izvell, and Blue Beard, We have before observed, that in those passages of Drama, expressive of the strongest passions, Mr. Young's chief excellence consisted; con- sequently, that part of this interesting tragedy which represents Barn- well, after being hurried into the extreme of vice by the arts of Milvjood, struggling whether to complete his intamy by the murder of his uncle, %vhich he afterwards effects, received more particular force in his hands. We were happy to observe that the applause was so gtjneral. We are always gratified to witness theannunciation of Mrs. Johnssm, iiecause we are always confident of entertainment fiow her : herMitaiA increased our favorable sentiaients of her talents. • Mrs. Barret h.as a fault in her pcrfonnauce 3, which is, we believe, peculiar to lierself....that of speaking with tedious deliberation We arr* of opinion, that a little care will correct this, which she may be assured, will add much to her playing, whi' a is, in other respects, very good. Mikvood was well treated in her hands. NEW-YORK-. ..PRIT^TED FOR THE KDITOR, BY SOUTHWICK ANP H.-iRD CASTLE, NO. 2, WALL-STREET. ADDENDA From the Thespian Mirror of January ii, 1806, we quote Payne's comments on the production of Jane Shore: — We have seen no play recently represented on our boards, which met with a better sup- port than Rowe's excellent Tragedy of Jane Shore. Mr. Fennel's *Lord Hastings' is certainly the best character he has recently attempted. His last scene was particularly excellent; and when he repeated the following passage, every heart sympathised in the sor- rows of the unhappy Hastings, and scarce an eye remained unmoistened : — 'Yes, RatcIIffe, I will take thy friendly counsel And die as a man should; 'tis somewhat hard, To call my scatter'd spirits home at once: But since what must be, must be — let necessity Supply the place of time and preparation. And arm me for the blow. 'Tis but to die, 'Tis but to venture on that common hazard, Which many a time in battle I have run; Tis but to close my eyes and shut out day-light, To view no more the wicked ways of men, 173 No longer to behold the tyrant Gloster, And be a weeping witness of the woes, The desolation, slaughter, and calamities. Which he shall bring on this unhappy land.' The ensuing scene was likewise very im- pressive; but in the scene of the 3d Act, with * Gloster,' he was not sufficiently forcible, and in one passage was imperfect. — 'When shall the deadly hate of faction cease. When shall our long divided land have rest,' &c., were somewhat lamely delivered. His expres- sion of countenance on receiving Gloster's sentence was inimitable. Mrs. Johnson's 'Jane Shore' was unexcep- tionable. Her animation at hearing that Hast- ings had espoused the cause of the wrong'd young King, and was determined to shield him from oppression, was finely conceived; but that look of eloquence with which she heard herself proclaimed an outcast to society immediately communicated throughout the house — and when she comes forward in her mean attire, hungry, faint and weary, she 'Entranc'd attention — and a mute applause.* The pearly tear hung on each moistened eye — and every visage looked admiration. We 174 conceived her last dress was, however, too good for her supposed situation. Mrs. Barrett conceived her part very well and in the latter part of her perform- ance was very excellent; but she ranted so much that her voice was not sufficiently strong to support the exercise. She dis- played great feeling in her parting scene with Hastings. With Mr. Tyler we were much pleased. His *Dumont' was feeling, expressive and char- acteristic. In short, it was performed with uncommon justice and discrimination. Mr. Hallam performed 'Gloster' with ac- curacy. His age, &c. were suited to the char- acter. Martin, in ' Belmour,' was not perfectly at home. The charming trifle of the SpoWd Child was successfully repeated. We have before spoken of Mrs. Jones' 'Little Pickle,' which probably could not be equalled on the American stage. Her songs, particularly that of — *Poll dang it, how d'ye do,* were encored. Mr. Hogg, who is always ex- cellent in characters of the like nature, was very much applauded in 'Old Pickle;' and 175 Mr. Martin's *Tagg' was perfectly character- istic. Mrs. Simpson was barely passable. Again, on the following March 8, when the same play was given "for the benefit of Miss Dellinger," Payne writes in the Thespian Mirror: — Benevolence, ever awake to the call of mis- fortune, exerted herself this evening in favour of Miss Dellinger, who (by the untimely pri- vation of a father, urged by the oppression of unfeeling creditors to the commission of sui- cide) is left, the sole dependance of a numerous family. Through the generosity of the mem- bers of the theater, who individually volun- teered their services, this evening was fixed for her Benefit. It is hoped that other public institutions will emulate the example of the Theater, and devote something to the assist- ance of this unfortunate young lady, in order to place within her reach the means of sup- porting those who, by this melancholy decree of Providence, are left to look up for their daily bread to an afflicted and unhappy sister. ^He that giveth to the poor, lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he giveth, will he pay unto him again.'' 176 The distinguishing features of Mr. Cooper's *Lord Hastings,' were chastity and nature. He seemed *no actor there' — yet once, in the very torrent and tempest of his passion, ex- claiming to Dumont, ' Avaunt ! Base Groom ' — *'Twas wanting what should follow!' Neither were we perfectly satisfied with his manner of turning — *And die — as a man should;* That he must die, had been previously decreed by the Lord Protector; the reading would therefore have stood better, — *And die, as a MAN should.'' Mrs. Johnson appeared for the first time since a very severe illness, to aid the cause of misfortune. An interesting dignity charac- terised her 'Jane Shore.' Mrs. J. has a manner of describing angles with her elbows, which is not graceful. . . . In commenting upon The Wheel of Fortune, with the Romp as an after-piece, Payne says : — Mr. Hogg's 'Watty' was excellent, and without the disadvantage of a bad person for 177 the character, would have been perfectly nat- ural. * Watty,' though an overgrown lad, is not yet one of those whom Cowper calls — 'Children of a larger growth.' and we are induced to think that the appella- tion of ^Little Watty ^ was misapplied. Misses Graham and White were tolerable. We would recommend more animation and energy to the former; and to the latter, we think more attention to her part than to the audience, would be an improvement. Glanc- ing over the boxes has no good appearance, however well it may be done. The following appeared in the Thespian Mirror of January i8, 1806; they are the lines referred to by Payne when writing to his father about the altercation with Mr. Seaman, — see pp. 27-8, ante: — [Written to be spoken at the Benefit of the Misses Hodgkinson.] When polished talents meet an early doom, And beauty sinks untimely to the tomb, The muses haste the tuneful meed to pay, And crowned with cypress form the elegiac lay; With pensive mien surround the silent urn And mourn, though conscious 'tis in vain to mourn — 178 No fancy'd griefs now wake the impassion'd sigh, No woe fictitious swells the streaming eye; For pity here two hapless orphans sue, And raise their little hands with hope to you. No mother's soothing voice allays their fears, No father's cheering accent checks their tears — Bereft of both, to you they gladly turn. And hope to find those friends whose loss they mourn. Ah! think how oft their father's magic powers Have sooth'd your cares and wing'd the lingering hours; Think with what transport you've delighted hung, On the enchantment of their mother's tongue — Mute is that tongue! those powers to please are o'er! They'll charm the eye — delight the ear no more! But while you mourn the parents' early fate, With pity view their children's orphan state; Raise them from earth, their infant steps sustain, Remove the pangs of poverty and pain. Cheered by your favors — by your bounty fed. Their opening talents to perfection led, May rise to grace these boards, so often grac'd By beauty, merit, elegance and taste; By you sustain'd, in worth, in charms they'll rise. And future Hodgkinsons shall bless your eyes. The following Address was spoken by the two little orphan girls at their Benefit in New York City for which the foregoing lines were written : — FANNY Ere three short winters with their snows are fled, A Mother dies; a Father, too, is dead: Their little Orphans, we, this night appear. And, lest we pain you, dry the trembling tear. 179 Oh! yet forgive us if a tear should start, Spite of the struggles of an infant's heart; If e'er a sigh, when most your smiles approve. Breathe its soft tribute to a Mother's love! Departed Mother! — cherish'd here art thou; Thy voice of sweetness, and thine angel brow. Oh! must that voice forever hush'd remain? And can'st thou never smile on us again? Still, tho' we see thee not, be thine the care To shield the infants of thy love with pray'r, Oh! still thy guardian smile of fondness shed. And we will love thee, Mother, tho' thou'rt dead! Yet ours is hope — for e'er his parting breath The best of Fathers yielded up in death; As in his languid eye stood life's last tear, He told us we should find our Parents here. "Tho' from these feeble limbs, my Babes," he sigh'd, "Swift to the heart the pulses all retire: And soon, ah soon! its throbbings must divide Forever from his weeping Babes their Sire — Yet mourn not with an anguish too severe; Oh! weep not ever o'er a Father's tomb! For many a sigh is yours, and many a prayer, And Beauty waits to rear you into bloom — Farewell!" — he sigh'd — and feeble was the sigh; For hardly did the pulse of being glide: Then, lifting up to heaven his closing eye, He bless'd his Babes, and — died! — Lamented Spirit! sweet be thy repose! Sweet as thy parting voice that sooth'd our woes; For one, still bleeding with the recent smart. Has press'd thy weeping infants to his heart; And Friends, far dearer to their souls than life. Contend to shield them with a generous strife. 1 80 ROSINA Yes, dearest Sister! our Papa was right; For we have Friends and Patrons here this night. What, tho' Mama is gone, methinks I trace Her smile that blest us, in each beauteous face. Tho' heaven has forc'd our dear Papa to die, A Father beams from each indulgent eye. FANNY Our kind Protectors! tho' we boast the while At best to please you but a grateful heart; Ah, who can tell, but, cherish'd by your smile. The Infant may surpass its Parents' art.^ So, rescued from the bleak, autumnal gale, The little shivering tenant of the vale. To gentler skies by some kind hand convey'd. In more than native beauty is array'd; Points its soft tendrils mid the winter's gloom. And springs and blushes with protracted bloom. ROSINA Our Parents nozv! than Parents dearer far! Sweet to your slumbers be the Orphan's prayer! That prayer, oh never will we fail to give. Nor cease to love you, till we cease to live. Payne's precocity in dramatic criticism may be further observed in the following comments, which we reprint from the Thespian Mirror of February i, 1806: — Sheridan's opera of the Duenna possesses sterling merit; it has survived the test of repe- 181 tition for years, and is attractive, without ex- traordinary aid from the actor. On Monday evening it received its customary tribute from a crowded and fashionable house, and our ears were repeatedly exhilarated by the ap- plause of the boxes; the encore of the pit; and the thunders of the gallery. Anxiety was awake as to the debut of the noviciate in Carlos.^ He was encouragingly received. We hope that in the future manage- ment he will rather endeavor to cultivate its sweetness, than to extend its compass. The terrors incident to a first attempt Induce us to forbear any closer comments on this first representation of Carlos. Mr. Johnson gave much satisfaction in *Don Jerome;' but In the expression of rage, he 'Outrav'd the ravings of the storm.' Perhaps less oi fury, would be more of nature. * "The Editor of the Mirror was not a little amused on hearing it whispered throughout the boxes, on this occasion, that he was to personate Don Carlos in the Duenna! and his amusement was somewhat heightened on the entrance of the expected noviciate. 'A pretty strapping boy, however,' exclaimed one — 'pretty tall of his age,' said another. The Editor begs leave to inform those who still labour under this unfortunate mistake — that he really was not the Don Carlos of Monday Evening!!!" 182 Mr. Tyler in 'Ferdinand' was respectable, tho' not without blemishes. We would wish him in aiming at rapidity, to avoid if possible the extreme of indistinctness. Martin, in 'Signor Isaac' was truly excel- lent. We never saw him mingle so little of himself with his manner of acting. He was (with one or two exceptions) a perfect son of Levi. We are sorry that so much cannot be said in praise of his Sultan in the farce. Through the whole of the afterpiece, he was uniformly dull and most wretchedly imper- fect — and frequently seemed — 'To dumb forgetfulness a prey.* Hogg had as much of the Swine about him as we could wish in the fat Friar; and truly never was there a satire more just, or more severe, than that which the Convent scene furnishes on the pretended sanctity of the holy fathers. We cannot help noticing the pale-visaged porter. He called to our minds Shakespeare's Apothecary — 'Despair is in thy looks,' &c. If critics may be allowed to descend so low as to the picking up of a crumb, we must say 183 that we never saw Mr. Robinson to such an advantage, as in the personation of the meagre, half starved attendant. Mrs. Young was unusually Interesting. * Louisa' certainly did not suffer in the person of her representative; and although the voice and action of Mrs. Young may have been secondary to the beauty of her person, yet we cannot but be of opinion that a little additional distinctness of utterance and freedom of ges- ture, will render her a still more able represen- tative of the youthful and arch 'Louisa.' Mrs. Simpson in the * Duenna' was more audible and distinct than we have ever wit- nessed her. Of Mrs. Jones'^ * Clara' too much cannot ^ In a previous Issue of the Thespian Mirror, Payne said: "Mrs. Jones cannot be otherwise than excellent. She is, speaking without flattery, the most fascinating and really deserving actress that ever trod the American stage." He also printed the following lines, addressed to her: — Oh! blest is the moment, sweet warbler! and long Shall its raptures be mingled with memory's sigh, That gives us thy tenderness, beauty, and song, And the glow of thy heart in the gleam of thine eye! Dear to thee be that moment! still dearer than those When the first lisp of infancy murmur'd its pray'r — For the tempest once past; Oh how sweet is repose! And virtue how bright, when she dawns from despair. 184 be said In the way of encomium. This lady certainly possesses the strongest claims to public approbation and support. Her voice has melody, sweetness and expression — her manner ease, sportlveness and Interest. In the song of * Adieu thou dreary pile!' she al- most surpassed herself. Her trills were given with the utmost delicacy; and such was the delight which this song Imparted, that ap- plause could scarcely continue silent to its termination. Miss Delllnger's voice has some pleasing traits; but she is most lamentably deficient in expression of manner, force of emphasis and distinctness of articulation. It would be unpardonable were we to pass over the (T esprit of Mrs. Johnson in *Roxa- lana.' She gave to the imperfect piece of the * Sultan' more Interest than we thought it capable of possessing. Tho' this lady's forte is the plaintive and the sad, we are happy to observe that she can be light and playful, without descending. We shall close our remarks with one of a general nature. In modern opera the Song Is announced by some studied phrase which drops from the lips of the performers, and i8s which is well understood to be preparatory to the exercise of the lungs. The Orchestra then opens upon us and the singer in dumb sus- pense awaits the termination of the symphony. This interval is on every occasion a mighty melancholy one. From the sadness Into which the visage of the performer settles the moment that he has uttered the preparatory sentence, one would suppose it had been his sentence of death; and from the doleful manner in which he paces the stage during the interval of the symphony one would imagine he was listening to his requiem. In an instant the Hoyden of sixteen has become the heart-broken widow of thirty; and the careless spark assumes a visage and deportment like that which im- mortalized the * Knight of the rueful counte- nance.' For this departure from the uniform personation of character we can see no plau- sible excuse; and perhaps the apparently dreaded interval, which is to introduce us to 'Dorothy Dump,' or 'Amo Amas' would be better filled up by an easy deportment on the part of the performer than by that long-vis- aged sadness, which would seem to predict nothing less than the torture of lungs and ears. 1 86 In the Thespian Mirror oi February 22, Payne thus caustically expresses his disapproval of Mr. Young's interpretation of Romeo: — The little which we saw of Mr. Young's * Romeo' (having been detained from the Theater until the conclusion of the 4th act) exceeded our expectation. He was, notwith- standing, faulty — and we must recommend to him to bestow some preparatory study before he aspires to the more elevated charac- ters of Shakespeare, whose plays are as diffi- cult to represent with accuracy as they are superior to the works of common dramatists. Lady Montague relates an instance of a lady at Constantinople, who fell in love with a dictionary. If this gentleman could form a like attachment, and take advantage of the passion by correcting his accent and pronunciation, he would give pleasure where now he offends propriety. He must also pay some respect to his Author, and be careful to avoid blundering on the — 'EMPTY account of BEGGARLY boxes,' for such mistakes will not make 'the charmer in [his] turn feel the pleasing effects of a good benefit.' 187 Reading and literary information are es- sentials to a good actor; and a perfect ac- quaintance with at least one language is indispensable. The celebrated Kemble is said to have bestowed months, and indeed years upon single characters. It is not unmeaning 'words, words, words!' which he commits to memory — it is ideas, ideas, ideas. He studies the approbation of the judicious — not the applauses of the million. Was such the case with Mr. Young, and would he in the first place correct his pronunciation, and then en- deavour to give us what is theatrically called just readings — his voice, person and gesture would answer for themselves. The patient study of Walker's standard of Pronunciation, and his Rhetorical Dictionary, with an accu- rate conception of the parts which he under- takes, can only fit him for a representation of the leading characters of the plays of Shak- speare. Mrs. Johnson's 'Juliet,' was inter- esting. i88 N°. XIII. THE THESPIAN MIRROR. SATl/UDAY EVENING, MAKCH 22, 1806. Co t|je pmk. <^^^^^^.y THE Editor of the Thespian Mirror respectfully ac- quaints his friends and subscribers, that, in consequence of circumstances which have transpired since the publication of the fourth number of his miscellany, he lias resolved to relinquish the editorial duties of that work, in order, more particularly, to apply himself to studies, which may pro- mote his future usefulness in life, and mature, strenorthen, and extend a disposition for literature, which has grovvu with his earliest years. When the MiRROR was commenced in this city, it wiis ur; der circumstances which have since become vnj teriaily ulLf;«:- ed. From the interest which some warm-hearted friends, (perhaps injudiciously,) took in the Editor, the work was brought forward, and enthusiastically ushered into public notice. Various were the sentiments of the community re- specting, it, and as various was popular conjecture on the, effects of the misdirected exertions of it.<5 juvenile Editor. From a wish to render him use/id rather than ornamcntd in society, plans were agitated for placing him in the toil pos- session of advantages, with which he might cuJtiva'^c a liter- ary taste, and direct his view to objects whicJi promised benefit to his country, satisfaction to his friends, and utllitv^ and honor to himself. The work which he had heedlessly commenced, was considered, by the judicious, as the fruis of an itch for scribbling, the materials for which, without a more extensive stock of ideas, drawn from the pure foan- 102 THESPIAN MIRROR. tains ot classical learning, would be soon exhausted. The pationac^e of o:)e, to wliom he ftds obligations which he cannot expiviss, lius placed within his reach advantages, the rejection of vviiich, would be the height of folly and ingra- titude. A cojifgiate education will, therefore, be the object of }(!s prrserst pursuit, and the study of the law, the goal of hig furare eT:ertions ; and, determined exclusively^ to devote himself to these important objects, he now declares his de- K'/^ij of disconciniiing rhe jVIii^ROR, after the publication of r'li'i nr.nit>cr (which completes the original terra of engage- iKcnt) and of waiting patiently the laurels ol famey until science %\\^\\ expand his mind, and crown Iris labours with lasting and deserved celebrity. He begs leave to express his warmest acknowledgments to those friendii, who have encouraged him, by their assist- ance, in the advancement of the Mirror ; he is» convinced *hat, feehng for his real welfare, they will approve the step which hi- ha-j taiespian Mm-or ' He had precuniary supplies which enabled liim to enter upon the work; the printers ware applibdto ; and from the moment of'thehrst projection, to that of publication, was three days : a space more inconsiderable when recollected that the only time at bis commanxl, Avas be- fore 8 in the morning-, and after 8 in the evening'. Three yotmjj gentlemen, (i.vro of them fellow clerks in the store) were entnisted with the secret. It was issued ; and as the. criticisms were composed on the assurattces of per- sons Immediattly mterestetl in the stag-e, an unfortuniite mistake occurrect m commending- Mr. Hallam senr. forthe penormanre of Thorowgood, which on account of his indisposition was read by Mr Ehapter. Aft?r the num- ber was Lssued, a few subscribers appeared, and such commendatory notice WHS taken of it in the American Citizens as encouraged the editor to pro- ceed. During the same week, a note appeared in the Evening Post apolo- gising for the deby of ♦ Crilicas or, the Thespian Mi'fiX)r.' The -nameof Gvit THESPIAN MIRROR. Ill t^L-nt that ill nature would loose her tongue, and level her shafts at one, wl.o has the vanity to believe himself superiour to her frowns. On tlie other hand, not conbidtiinj.; himself wholly deserving of the approbatory testimonies he has received, he can only regret his inability to realise public exptctatious. f'or the kindness of his friends, he feels himself greatly indebted ; to his enemies he wish'js better employment ; and to the performers, that they may reap the benefit of their exertions, in a Howing bumper, and a hea- vy purse. icus itsrtltd him...,and with fear, and trembling, he hurried to the countitig- room, and penned the following- note to Mr. Coleman. ' The ediloi- of the Thespian Mirror, having- observed a note intt)« Post of this evenini^, promising- some remarks on his -work, would take the liberty of askini^ Mr. Coleman, whether tliey are or ar-e not in favour of the publi- cation ? lie makes this request, which may appear singular, on account fjf some inaccuracies wiiich crept into the first number, ihroug-h entii-e acci- dent : and which, though by the community, they might psss unnoticed wotild not probabl>' escape the attention of a Cnticui. He would furtherobserve that thoug-h his extreme youth, (being under the ag-e of 14) mig-ht, in the eyes of many, be considered sufficient to deter him l>om an undertaking" of such magT.itude, it wus commenced with a laudable design, and, (as some ajjolog^y tor its errors) "was an unassisted attempt,' HIS ANSWER WAS AS FOLLOWS. • Mr. Coleman is sorry to be compelled to ans wcr tlie editor of the Tlies- pian Mirror, in amwnr.er ojipleasant to him ; but lie has to inform him, that the renuirks oit the Thespian Mirror, are unfavourohle ; and he will iu can- dour add, that Criticus was detained, that his remarks might be Btill fur- ther extended and enforced by himself, and at the same time that proper and approbatory notice might be taken by him, in the same article, of the Theatrical Censor, of Philadelohia, a work of unusual merit.' ' The note of the editor of the Thespian Mirr.oj-, mentioning the extreme youth of the wtiier, must disarm him of severity .- and he -would be glad to see the juvenile autlior at his house, to talte tea with "him this evening. No. 30 Hudson-street. Perhaps the visit ma/ not be unserviceable to thir youne, gentleman in his future progress.' Detained by counting room avocations tillpajst 8, the editor did not see Mr. C till the next morning-. He then observed that the principal defect of the Mirror was indiscriminate prais-e, and that the essay of Criticus wag chiefly aimed at that fault, of which he had adduced some specimens. He recom- mended the suspension of the work, and that addressing himself to the public, he should declare his inabiJitv to continue it« editorial dutiei. - Prompted perhaps, by vanity, the proposal was declined, and Mr, C. volun- teered his services in favour of the undertaking. These he- then gave, &hd for that' assistance has every acknowledgement to which his kindness is so just- ly entitled. After the publicjition of Mr. Coleman's remarks on the Mirror, the situation of the new editor thus became known to his parents, and the {gentleman under whose care he was placed. After his circumstancei were understood, several friends exerted their influence in his behalf; and now detached frmn toe labours of a mercantile lii'e, he is situated within the reach of all the pleasures -and all the advantages of literature. . ^^ - _^ ^ ... ^. . ->.. .^^=....:...:^ a^. .^,....:^, ^.i— j-iB^i 112 THESPIAN MIRROR. Cbeatn'cal Eemailts, , 'Tnith, tlio' RQnietimes clad » In p'liuful lustre, yet is alwavss •welcome : ' Dnar as the li^'lit that shows the lurking- roct . * *Tis the fidr stai-, that no er into the nviln * Descending-, leads us safe tliro" stornr.y hte.' We have been 'cudgelling' our ' dull pates' for an houi:, !ro ekt out some Striking exordium to these our remarks on the ladies and gentlemen of the sock and buskin : but in vain. ...the ' spirit' was obstinate, and did not ' move'.... w^ords were sulky, and would not come forth : oUr pen, dull as our wit, was old and pointless, and we are compelled to bring MR. COOPER to the bar of criticism, without giving notice of trial. We should not be astonished, should the court ring with applause at his ent- rance, or the judge want firmness to pronounce the sentence on hii errors. But we really believe that Mr. Cooper's vicious habits are not so deeply rooted- as to be out of the cognizance of time and ex- perience. He is peculiarly the favorite of nature, and almost inva- riably follows her dictates. His faults have so often been canvass- edj that little or nothing is left for the critic, but to complain in the hackneyed strain of hh rant ; of his want of application ; and of the inequality of his acting. Far be it from us to contradict either of these charges" ; we cannot disprove them. ' Every man to his taste,' says tlie proverb i and every man who has seen Cooper, (we' should say admired^ for we should be Inclined to censure the tat.te of any one who has seen, without admiring him) is peculiarly dispos- ed to rest his applause on some one of his characters. For ourselves, t'^ough we aspire not to the honour of manhood, our taste iti greatly in favour of his Othello, and hext to that his Iia?nlet. But a new star in the constellation of his excellencies, has made its appearance.... .Re-ucrly: and in splendour asd mas^nificencejitbids fair to rival and to eclipse the rest. Much has been said of the comparative merits of Mr. Cooper and Mr. Kemble, and many contratlictory opinions have been suggested. ...but we have seen nothing which we believed from ou»' best dSiUrances, more perfectly just, than the foUowinsj, THESPIAN MIRROR 113 by that friendly guardian to the stage, the TAeatrical Cmevr. ' It is not our iiitervlion to institute any comparison bel.^s een Mr. C. and the classic performer of Covent Garden Theatre. Mr. C's. merits are derived from nature and cultivation, and arc not mimic. If we mention his name in company, with that of Mr. Kemble, it shall only be to observe, that if the latter be the greater, the former is, in our judgment, the more pleasing of the tM'o.' Jfifirohaticn from Cir Hubert Stanlty^ is praise indeed. * Whatever passions g^all the hum.an breast, ' Play in thy features or await thy nod, ' In thee, by art, the demon stands confest, ' But nature on thy soul has stamp'd the God. Next to !\Ir. Cooper, fame has awarded a laurel to Mr. Fennel. This gentleman possesse3,over many of his ftUow actors, tht- singu- lar superiority of a well cultivated mind : but according to the old adage, it is only ' robbing Peter to pay Paul,' for with all the ad- vantages of literature, he cannot creep into an empty corner of the soul. The ladies will not weep, the gentlemen will not cry ' bravo T We believe Mr. Fennel to be a gentleman, a scholar, and an orator, but as to acting, his is too laboured to be pronounced excellent. ...too greai to be called bad. It has a certain false fulnes-s, tjic appear- ance cf a certain completeness, which often satisfies an audience, wbile it is yet far below perfection,* and far above mediocrity. Our comical f'-iends, Harwood, Jefferson, Twaits.t and Hogg, arc conjointly arraigned to receive sentence. But no sooner do they appear at the bar, than a natural association of ideas, robs the judge of his steady phiz, and convulses the courfwith laughter.... Momus descends., crowns his favourites with tne wreath of fame : awards to thorn a throne in the temple of Mirth....and wafts them to regions where uncontrouled reign, * Sport, that wrinkled care derides, ' And laughter nolding' both his sides.' Theatrical Censor, p 120. f A severe aothniatic affection has deprived Mr. Twajts,- sincehis arrival inthisciL/, of the us*^ of his bed. Consequently, linder such a pressure of bodily afRiction, no competent judgment can be formed of his powers! As acomic singer he ha;?, wft presun^e,,m> superior on the American stage 'His range of 4ctJon is the list, as irto invite a pugilistic encounter : at llie samti lilne casting his eyes alternately to his feet, and to the audience. In comedy he is addicted to the vulgar prat- licc of kickini^: his heels, and snupping his liiv^jers. His merits arci however, prominent. He speaks with life, -with feeling, with discri- mination. His orthoepy rnay be materially corrected : and we re- commend L'> him t!ie ptrusrJ of Sheridan's Lectures on Eloc\!tion, where he will find souie inj;(ro\ lug hintr This able writer remarks that by alterinj^ the sound of the a, and e, much more might be done to elTect a cure fur the provincial disease, than is apparent ... riius for arrarA-, \va say errors — for abasement, we say nb.'/seuient : cdmpressin?^ the sound of the a, instead of making it ah. Wc are told Mr. Y. complains of our want of lenity. ...We confess we have been rather severe, but not unjust to Mr. Young ; and it was rather to sec talents suscej)tible as his, strengthened, cultivated, and ma- tilred, than from any personal dislike or private resentment. Mr. i^Iartin is an useful performer. lie seldom sinks below mediocrity ; often rises to excellence. His range of acting is exten- sive. " In short, as a great author says, he is up to every thing." The Hallam family has the nierit ofus.fuhieas. Mr. H .sen. has beena faithful sevvanttothestage,fornearly half a century. Young Hallam, as he is called, has trodden the boards in this city so long, that the publxc would scarcely know how to do without him. If he would move less in circles, and sometimes stretch and straiten his ai*ms, we confess that we believe it would cxhilirate his body, And g|ve himself and the public uncommonly pic isurable sensations. Mr. Shaf»ter.has a remarkably good bass vo'ce ; and possesses musical skill. He is no actor. The abilities of Mr. Roljii»^on are not inconsiderable. Were he possessed of more fire, he might aspire to a morg exalted sphere. 'I'hc path of eminence is open to him. Our spirits begin to llag at the undertaking we Jiave coujmen- ced We find criticism on our performers, with a fcv/ cxceplioiis, a ' stale, flat nnd unprofitable' taak. But it is too late to retrench j THESVIAN MIRROR. 115 the * printers devil' at our elbow, calls aloud for the manuscript , and after paying a tribute of respect to two g-cntkman ot" distin- guished worth, deserving actors, and exceiknt iKanagers, ( Messr:;. Tyler and Johnson) Ave proceed to notice u constt^Huticn of female merit, of which Mrs. Johnson is a stai- of the first niagniiudc. A distinguished favouriteis Mrs. Jones-; hcr's are the co!>jo!nt:(! ciaiir.s of an injured, a deserted wife, and an unrivalled actress. *■ S/ie is as firetty a x-iHu^-c lasa as c-uc-r Tan upon the grecji. ai-^ard.' Her mu- sical powers arc super-eminent. She is alike the sentimental giri; the country minx, the pettish boy, and the elegiint wonum. Where- I'ever she h, she is distincjuished : in whatever she assumes, she is exquibile. Mrs. Viiliers has merit. Mrs. Barret possesses great powers and she generally appears desirous to give satisfaction. But ' her humour is [too much] for a tyrant, or a part to tear a cat in, tt* maJce all split.' We reiterate what we have again and again repeat- ed, that she should sometimes descend from the elevation of the sublime, to the simplicity, the modealij of nature^ acd *- speak in a monstrous little voice.' Cljeatrual g^craps. Morton's clcg'.'int coincciy of the • School of"Ref«)rn),' lias been acted se- vcnil times in tJiis city, with g';neral approbation. It received its prliicip:*! support from thehoneyt," liomcly, Tarragono^yiv. H:iruood, andfrviin Hogjj's * outcast of virtue,' Robert Tyke. Tlie texture of the play lias nothing^ fiimsy or estxavagant about it. The character of Tyke is calculated deeply to in- terest tlic heart, -vviiilc it con\ eys u most stvikintj ajid imj)ortant m(!i-al. Mr. Twuits made ^ ulebut in Ricliard III, and waa well received. His performance was curious and novel, but not calculated to interest or to strike. With Mr. Cooper's ])oweis, and hi.'i own conception, the personation could not liave been surpassed. Master Barret has twice attempted tlie part of Young- Norval his second was liir better than his tii-st es.say. We canntjt say that tlie perf ;rmance either interested om* feeling-s, or wrougiit upon our sensibility but it i^ave proof of talents, v. hich enlarg-ed and cultivated, projr.iae wcU for future ex- cellence. Mr. Youn^ gui'e an earnest of promisint^ powers, in the .Strangfer. per "'^^'■*>'*~°-*^— ^"-"^^--^ 116 THESPiAN MIRROR. formed at his own benefit. We confess that we went rather from curiosity, tkan any other cause. We were, however, agreeably dis:ippointtd. « My son Peter,' was comJcalJy sustained by a noviciate. We have been ^eatly pleased with the eldest Miss Hodgkmson'd penbr lYianoe of Tom Thumb. She possesses all the g-enius of her fatJier, <-.haste!i od by tOL sweetness ofher motner. < 'Twas a chylde that .soe divide thryv^e, ♦ In grace and feature, < Thatte heav'n and nature scem'dtostryve, ♦ Whicli OMTi'd the creature.' Being- present at the representation of « A Cure; for the Heart Ache, we cannot witlihold a tribute of applause, from Messrs. lI:u-wood and Twarts, for Iheii- exeellence in Young' Rapid and Frank .Oatland. We learn with pleasure, that the dramatic works of Mr. Dunlap, are nearly ready for deliveiy. In a cause so interesting- to American literature, and to the Aifterican stage, it is to-behopedpatronag-e will not slumber. If foreig;'. plays are printed, .sold, and re-printed in America, w^bere is patrio- tism, that the exertions'of native gpnius are discountenanced, and di- coiu-ag- ed ? Where sleeps the public spirit, which gives the literature of its coun- try to lumber the shelves of the bookseller I And why is native gemus al- lowed to waste itself in obscui-ity, when editions of foreign publications arc- multiplied in our cities ? ' From the situation of Mr. Dunlap', s.ijs the ele- gant editor of the Port Folio, ' as a man of letters, a man of misfortunes, and one of the earliest votaries of the dramatic muse in America, his works not only solicit, but deserve the regard of all who value tliemselvcs, upon th&ii- zeal for the productions of domestic literature.' READINGS AND RECITATIONS. MR. FENNEL. < Tit for Tat' the public seemed to say to Mr. Fennel : and perhaps hi£ ill success, is, in some manner attributable to aspiritof retaliation, on the party formed in Piiiladelphia, to svq:qx)rt Mr. F's. efforts in this line, to the deser- tion of Mr. Cooper at the theatre. We attended his last, when we wei* presented witli some ah'e specimens of elocution. The receipts on both occosiojis, did not much, exceed fifteen dojlars, MRS. HAMltiTOK. The opinions wMch we had heaj''d of Mrs. Hamilton were so contradic- tory, that, determining to satisfy ourselves of her claims to patronage, we at- tcnd'^d tiie two Irist of her eihibitions, that of Saturday, and. that of Tuesday THESPIAN MIRROR. 1 17 e\enin£r- Soirte declared her recitations very g'Cod ; othei's gave out that ihey were very bad — some too, asserted that she rivalled Mrs. SidcVrjns, others, that slie imitated Mrs. Barret ! On the first occasioti ol" oiir attoidance we went to be pleased ; on the second, like fuU'gro'.vn alttcs, w^e attended to find fault. Altlioughit may soem somewhat paradoxical, we v.^ere not grati. fied on the former occasion ; on the latter we saw little wuicli wc could not commend ; but so intent were we on the object of our visit, diat we &iezeny^e!f to Liberty^ This appears sometliing iik.". what the cntics rail bathos. We i).ive ano- ther lnr''ta.TiC£ of ti^e same kind after Sempronius terminates his speech lor wilP , Mrs H. makes him to say, * Cato, now once ag-ain let's hear you speaK.' Tliif reminds us of a pnppetshew exhibition, in nhlch ?^?r. PnncI' is inadc to teD lais wife : «• Come Dolly, new speak you." They tvere both probably jtiterded fu- tUc- .sa^ne parpo.se — vo itirarm tlie audience who is lalking, and to be sure it is a very dtsirabie etd; but fcr citTJelves, we should probably liave said sovnetliinigtf' this purpose .- * Sempvonius havir^ spoken, Cato rises, and exhorts him to moderation,' But w^e wish not that Mrs. Hamilton .shonid disci -aa our charity we have' a spark of csridoiir — a spark of galjamtry— and a spi-ji^k (we hope'; of taste • and so, ujjon the whole, ^e may consider iis as a KpajHsh editor. Bnt witli- out any of t))ese requisites, justice alone would ct-mpel Us tf> pronounce a pan- egyi-ic on her merit. Wc ^ve Ivev err^>is a front serf, tlmt hex- joerits may overlook them. Her Lncyaiul Ck)l!n ; Rolla'rj Address ( Ehira's SuUloquy ; and the Rebel : we consider instances u>f a superlour tastf. and refined ex- ecution : but Mrs H. must excuse onr n'iinknessindeciJvri.ng-that we beiievc the * Ode ontlie Passions,' her mostindifferent attempt. Time and room, two gentle foUcs whom we have always to cousultin our editorial lahiJui-fc; have j e- pep.tedly warned us, but now iimut, that we sliould be silent : and therefore if anyone wishes a proof .-.f Mrs. Humiitons merit, be tiie patron-ip-e ofadis, ting-uLshed farafjy of this city, who wiuid never esiend tlieii- inSucnce to a worthless object, tlie test of her excellence. B 118 THESPIAN MIRROR. ' Variety is charming, ' Constancy is not for me ; * So ladies, you have warning.' Old Ballad. beauty's value. Stated to have been prt)ttedfmn a corrected manuscnfit, and originally 'Mriffen by Skaispeare. See Gent. Mag-, .for Oct 1 7.^G Beauty is but avaMi and fleeting good, A shining g'loss thr.t fadeth suddenl} , A flow'rthat dies when almost in the bud, A brittle glass that breaketh presently : A fleeting gt^'d, a gloss, a glass, a flow'r. Lost, faded, broken, dead, within an hour. As goods when lost are wond'i-ous seldom found, As faded gloss no rubbing can excite. As flowers when dead are trampled on the ground, As broken glass no cement can unite ; So beauty blemish'd once is ever lost. In spite of piiysic, painting, pains, and cost. QUAINT TITLES. The prevailing rage tc catch the public ear by some specious or surprising m/out his should^ rs . In the. midst of his liead goeth a seam or partition, after the manner of tlie Nazarites ; his forehead •..> • Love assails ' And waims, 'nud &ea»<)f ice, the melting whale.^. « Cools crimped cod, <«rce paiigs to perch imparts, • Shrinks shrivelled shrimps, suid opens oyster's heai-ts.* 130 THESPIAN MIRROR. For the Thespian Mirrw. ARIOSO. Let others chaunt, let others praisa. In mtlttug strains....in>pa9sion'd lays. Their Daphne's Penseroso'a : In rustic numbers I will sin^, That heav'n in smiles, tliat beauteous spring. Which beams in Arioso. While Cupid's laughing in her eyes, The soft, unguarded heart surprise. Before their arrows felt : The tender sxiflPrer 'tempts in vain. To ease his care, relieve his pain. He. niust in angTiish melt ! O ! for < a muse of fiie' to tell, Hoyr virtue, worth, and sweetness dwell, Comfam'diB An to sot To speak the beauties of liiat mien, Whert: * loose a Goddess moves a Queen,' >.t._..Of sweetest Arioso \ A WRiXBuin a late PoHfolio gives the following reading to tlus passag-e iit7 <:bat stirs withtJi im,' and * Heav'n itself, th».t potnts out an hereafter ;' but, that ' 'tis the divihity-that-stirs-witlun-us— 'tis Heaven itself— that points out an hereafter :' the « diw.:ty tliat stirs within us,' is not more than Ad- dison' 3 parapln-ase of the Platonic exiwesslon, the god within the inind. It may be ofase'. v,-iL that, by the help of tlie second term, « 'tis Hea\-*n itself,' Addison n.odemi-es the sentiment, uniting the doctrines of Plato with our own; and T.biM> rendering the languag-e, appropriate to the mouth of Goto, agreeab:.!i aito to the ears oF& Christian audience. FINIS. GENERAL LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA— BERKELEY RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. "X:). \Hi ^ LD 21-100m-l,'54(1887sl6)476 JjJi^^^lSI YD 26608 Mi07345 95^ CASE^ THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY