6 and published, with a preface artfully acknowledging it to be unworthy public patronage; although I wrote a puff myself (do you know what a puff is?) "an author's opinion of his own works expressed in a daily paper by himself or friends." I answered-" Right, continued he, "although I wrote a puff myself, informing the public that rumors were afloat that the new novel which created such a sensation both abroad and at home, was from the well known pen of the celebrated William Lack wit, esq. poet, editor, orator, and author in general. Although I paid the editor of one of our most fashionable evening papers six shillings for reading it himself, and six and sixpence for recommending it to the perusal of his subscribers, "miserabile dictu'-it went dead,' as the Irishman says; a newspaper squib, a little pop gun of a thing, first brought it into disrepute, and a few would-be critics ridiculed it to death. Herbert and Rogers, merchant tailors, lost a customer, and I a fortune, and my unhappy book was used to carry greasy sausages and bad butter to the illiterate herd who took more care of their stomachs than of their heads, and liked meat better than mind. Oh! that ever I was an author: I have chased the rainbow reputation over crag and cliff. I have waded through rivers of distress, and braved storms of poverty and scorn, to get one grasp at the beautiful vision; and though I see it yet, as lovely and as bright as ever, yet still it is as cheating and still as far from my reach. My next trial was of a higher nature, which, after we have again partaken of your excellent Maderia, I will relate to you-" My eccentric companion proceeded in his story, gathering new animation as he recapitulated the battles which he had fought, and the victories which he might have won. "For a long time, sir, after the melancholy catastrophe of my novel, I was completely discouraged. I felt an indifference toward the world. I had soared so high upon the wings of hope that the fall almost broke my heart; but soon the disappointment began to lose its bitterness, and I received a consolation (which, wicked as it was, I could not repress,) in discovering that hundreds of unsuccessful authors were exactly in my con dition: then I remembered, that as great fame, once acquired, would be everlasting, I could not expect to acquire it without immense trouble and assiduous application. Gradually I shook off the hateful fetters of gloomy despair, and, like some deluded slave to a false woman's charms, I allowed cheating hope to lead me captive again. My brain began to effervesce with the exuberance of imagination, and gave promise of something more exquisite still. Novel writing was out of the question. I had manufactured one, and if the public did not like it, they might let it alone; and so they did -the more shame for them. "I felt proud as Lucifer in my defeat, and was resolved never to compliment with another the world who had used my last so villainously. No, thought I, I'll write a play, and give Shakspeare and Otway a little rest. If I cannot get in the great temple one way, I'll try another; and, with increasing avidity, I went at it again. It was not long before I began to entertain the idea that my mind was peculiarly adapted for dramatic writing. I was not formed to wade through the dull drudgery of novel descriptions-to expatiate upon little rivulets, tinkling among big rocks-and amorous breezes making love to sentimental green trees. In my present avocation, the azure heavens, the frowning mountain, the broad ocean, the shadowy forest, and "all that sort of thing,” would fall beneath the painter's care. Skies would be manufactured to give light to my heroes, and cities would sprout up, in which they could act their adventures. My play would present a great field for triumph, and 'young, blushing Merit, and neglected Worth,' must be seen, and consequently admired. Now would the embodied visions of my fancy go to the hearts of the public through their ears, as well as their eyes, and genius would wing its sparkling way amid the thundering acclamations of thousands of admiring spectators. 'Now,' said I to myself, 'I have the eel of glory by the tail, and it shall not escape me, slippery as it is.' "With a perseverance which elicited praise from myself, if from nobody else, I mounted my Pegasus, and jogged along this newly-discovered road to immortality. The external and common world melted from my mind when I sat down to my task, and, although it was evanes cent as poets' pleasures generally are, few men enjoyed more happiness than I-as the tattered trappings of my poor garret seemed dipped in the enchanting magnificence of my dreams, and I rioted in visions of white paper snow storms, and dramatic thunder and lightning. I sought every opportunity for stage effect-to have trap doors, and dungeons, unexpected assassinations, and resurrections, more unexpected still. "My undertaking seemed very easy at first, but I soon found myself bewildered amid difficulties seriously alarming. At one time I brought a whole army of soldiers on the stage, and made them fight a prodigious battle, without discovering, till half the poor fellows were slain, that the whole affair had taken place in a lady's chamber! This was easily remedied, but I experienced infinitely more trouble with the next. I had formed a hero, in whom were concentrated all the virtues, beauties, and accomplishments of the human kind: a real Sir William Wallace-gigantic in person and mind-who never opened his lips but to speak blank verse-who did not know that there was such a person as Fear on the face of the globe, and could put a whole army to flight by just offering to draw his sword. It was my design artfully to lead him into the greatest extremes of danger, and then artfully to lead him out again; but in the paroxysm of enthusiasm, I at length got him into a scrape, from which neither I nor any other human power could possibly extricate him. "His enemies, determined not to give so terrible a fellow the slightest chance of escape, had confined him in a tremendous dungeon, deep, and walled around on all sides by lofty rocks and mountains, totally impenetrable. To this dreadful abode there was only one little entrance, which was strictly guarded by a whole band of soldiers, who were ordered never to take their eyes off the door, and always to keep their guns cocked. Now here was a predicament, and I knew not what to do. The whole of the preceding was so beautifully managed, that to cut it out would be impossible. Yet there he was, poor youth, without the slenderest hope of freedom, cooped up among everlasting mountains, beneath which Atlas himself might have groaned in vain. What was I to do? He must be released. The audience would expect it, as a common civility, that I would not murder him before their eyes. It would have been ungenteel, to a degree. At length I hit it, after having conceived almost inconceivable plans, and vainly attempted to manage ponderous ideas, which were too heavy for me to use. I proposed to introduce a ghost -a spirit, which would at once please the pit, and be a powerful friend to the imprisoned soldier. "At the dead of the night, when he sat ruminating on the vicissitudes of life, and spouting extemporaneous blank-verse soliloquies, (at which I had spent many midnight hours,) the genius of the mountain comes down in a thunder cloud, and thus addresses the pensive hero. You will be pleased to observe the rude and natural dignity of the language, which it was a great point with me to preserve. Genius. Hero of earth, thine eyes look red with weeping. Hero, (laying his hand upon his sword.) Who says he e'er saw Gen. Nay, hold thy tongue, and shut thy wide-oped jaw: Hero. I will not perish, if I help it can; But who will cleave these cursed rocks apart, Where lizards crawl athwart my shrinking flesh, I am the genius of this lonesome place, Oh! my dear fellow, take me hence away-- "The alliteration in the last line melts the tender heart of the genius: he waves his hand in the air; his cloudy throne streams thunder and lightning from every side; instantaneously a convulsion ensues; the stage becomes a scene of general conflagration; a number of small imps and little devils, fiery-breathed dragons and red-nosed salamanders, are seen sporting about in the confusion, till the whole explodes, and out walks my man through a prodigious crack in the mountain, which heals up after him, as he goes along. The consternaVOL. II.-2 tion of the guards may be imagined, but unless I had the MS. here, I could not attempt to describe it. "At length it was written, rehearsed, and advertised, and its name, in great capitals, stared from every brick wall and wooden fence in the city. "Delightful anticipations of immortality began to throng upon my mind, and I could almost hear the various theatre-cries of bravo,'' encore,' and 'author.' With some trouble I had prepared a very handsome speech, to be spoken when I should be called out, and practised bowing before a looking-glass with great success. Indeed, by the time the evening of representation arrived, I was prepared for every triumph fate could have in store; and I had vowed an unalterable determination not to lose my firmness of mind in the heaviest flood of prosperity that could possibly pour in upon me. "The evening arrived-a fine, cool, moon-light night. The stars twinkled upon me as I hastened to the theatre, as if congratulating me from their lofty stations in the sky, and the most refreshing breezes played around my head, methought whispering soft nonsense in my ear. walked with a proud step to the door, entered majestically, and took my seat modestly. I "The house was already thronged with ladies and gentlemen, with their various appendages of quizzingglasses and bamboo canes; and frequent murmurs of impatience buzzed around, by which I felt extremely flattered. The end of my troubles seemed already at hand, and I thought fame, on her adamantine tablet, had already written William Lackwit, Esquire, author in general,' in letters too indelible for time itself to erase. Fear faded away in the dazzling brilliancy of that smiling multitude, and my soul floated about in its delicious element of triumphant hope, with a sensation such as arises from a good dose of exhilarating gas. 6 "Alas! 'twas but a dream!' I soon perceived that fortune frowned on my efforts, and had taken the most undisguised method of blasting my hopes. A diabolical influenza had for some time raged in the city, which on this very evening seemed at its height. A convulsion of coughing kept the whole audience in incessant confusion; and, with the most harrowing appre |