"MONK" LEWIS. pudiation of his first wife Eudoxia-his indifference and harshness to their only son, the unfortunate Alexis Petrowitch, who, though a man of intemperate and vicious habits was still his child, and perhaps had acquired those very habits in Matthew Gregory Lewis, (commonly called consequence of his father's shameful neglect of Monk from the novel of that name which he his education, but above all I thought of the dark, wrote,) was born at London in the year 1775. deep stain impressed upon the Czar's character, His parents were of ancient and wealthy famiby the suspicious and mysterious death of that lies. The father held an important station in the same ill-fated son, and my admiration of the war department, and, in addition to the monies abilities and brilliant achievements of the empe- thence derived, received a very respectable inror was almost lost in the remembrance of his come from estates in the West Indies. The brutality and tyrannical sway. mother was a lady of great beauty, of elegant A lofty shed, covered with flaming red tiles deportment and unaffected good breeding. She and resting upon open arches, is erected over the was also a person of distinguished literary abili hut to shield it from storm and sun. Within are ty and taste; and in belles-lettres there always two small rooms; that on the left hand was existed the greatest congeniality of feeling bethe Czar's work-shop; that on the right, through tween Lewis and his mother. Between his pawhich you enter, was his chamber and they as-rents, disagreements of no small importance sure you contains the identical articles of furni- arose, and at last a final separation was agreed ture he used, viz: three triangular chairs painted upon; but the son never forgot the respect he ash color, a long oaken table and a cupboard. owed his father, or the deep affection he had In a closet is shewn a very broad, low shelf upon early cherished for his mother's memory. which he laid his bed. The hearth and chimney With the exception, perhaps, of Lord Byron, were extremely wide, the former paved with im- there was no man so much talked of in his time mense square bricks, and each side of the fire- as Monk Lewis. To-day he was abused; toplace was covered with glazed white tiles adorn-morrow praised: and between the battledores of ed with pictures, done in brown, such as I have envy and idolatry, his feet never touched the often seen in old-fashioned houses in New York. ground of obscurity. He was not a great roOver the mantle-piece were two inscriptions mancer, a great poet, or a dramatist of the first upon marble slabs, inserted into the wall. Upon order. But he dealt in the horrible, and with an one was engraved the names "Peter Magno," imagination naturally vivid, and afterwards stored "Alexander”—and we were told that the Em-with all the phantasies of the German and Italperor Alexander put it there with his own hands ian schools, he succeeded in effectively adminisafter the battle of Waterloo-but it is not proba- tering to the then prevailing taste for the superble that he took that trouble, when masons natural. were so near and numerous. The second in- His versification was smooth, agreeable in scription was placed there by order of Govern- sound, correct in rhythm and frequently of a ment and was very long. In 1825 an inundation high imaginative order. So singularly melodioverspread the floor of the hut to the depth of sev-ous was his verse, that writers of operas, and mueral feet, but subsided without doing any injury. sicians, constantly beset him for materials with Before leaving Saardam we visited a collection which to build the bridges of harmony. As a of landscapes, figures, birds, flowers and animals dramatist his great knowledge of stage effect and cut out of white paper and so inimitably execu- acute perception of situation rendered his plays ted that they resembled beautiful reliefs in mar- very popular; and for many years he was the ble, and in a neighboring church we saw a cu- play-wright for Drury Lane and Covent Garrious picture representing a ferocious bull which den-his offspring bringing into their treasuries had killed a man and a woman. The picture enormous receipts. His "Castle Spectre" and was hung over their tombs. In the same church" Timour the Tartar" are well known to theatrewas a singular pulpit supported by a Pelican feed-goers of the present day. ing its young with the blood from its breastmeant, I suppose, to be emblematical of the blood of the Redeemer, shed for us...... We returned to Amsterdam in rain and snow, both falling at the same time-thus ended our day's adventures and thus ends my narration for the present. J. M. C. If he was distinguished as a literary character, he was pre-eminently so as a man. The correspondence he has left behind him shows forth his ardent affections and his unostentatious generosity. He was a kind son and a valuable friend. In his twenty-first year Lewis became a votary of love. He conceived a violent and lasting attachment for the celebrated Lady Charlotte ance. Campbell-a lady no less distinguished for the pressed my palpitating bosom and stifled the feegraces of personal, than for the charms of mental ble exertion of infant joy. As we approached beauty. In the companionship of this lovely fe- the postern gate, the gardener stood there to open it.Adieu, John,' said I, 'I wish you health and male, Lewis, while a guest of her father, spent happiness. Good bye lady,' answered the felmany happy hours. But however great was low, grinning with satisfaction at the honor I had his attachment, there is no reason to believe that done him. The grin was not in unison with my the lady entertained for her eccentric admirer feelings at that moment. I turned away my head stronger sentiments than those of admiration and to the other window and there beheld a creature esteem for his literary and social qualities. In person Mat Lewis, (as his intimate friends at first termed him,) was quite ordinary; his stature was rather diminutive; his face was almost an ellipse, looking upon it from the side, and his features though pleasant were not to be regarded as handsome. His forehead, however, was high and his eyes very lustrous. These considerations might have had some influence in deciding the choice of a young girl, who, at an early age, was beset by admiring flatterers; but, whatever they were, Lewis found his suit likely to prove unsuccessful and gave up the chase. Between Lady Campbell and himself, however, there afterwards existed a friendship which remained unimpaired until dissolved by the hand of death. To her many of his most touching lyrics were addressed, and the well-known ballad of "Crazy Jane," written by Lewis, owed its origin to an riding-habit from top to bottom; but it was the encounter of Lady Campbell and himself with dirt of sensibility and I felt proud of it." an unfortunate maniac. Mr. Lewis remained a single man until death and never forgot his early passion. possessed of much more sentiment than the old know, my dear Sophonisba, is blind of one eye gardener. It was his dog Pompey, who, you and lame of one leg; but it is the heart which gives value, and Pompey's more than repaid the roughness and deformity of his external appearAdieu, Pompey,' said I. The interestHad he said,Will you then leave me, my being animal wagged his tail and cried bow! wow!' loved mistress,' it could not have spoken to my heart with such audible expression as did its lamentable bow! wow,' and the peculiar style he made use of to shake his shaggy tail. Had I vior at that moment would have obliterated every before hated the creature, his admirable behasentiment of unmerited aversion. As it was, the milk of human kindness boiled in my bosom, and in spite of all my papa's arguments, I resolved to descend from the carriage and embrace the dog for the last time. Pompey instantly leapt into and his caresses dirtied my beautiful new scarlet my arms. He had just come out of the water, The "effusions" were never published: why, does not appear. Of all works, satirical ones sell best. As an old writer observes, "satire is that kind of mirror wherein every body sees every body's faces except their own; therefore few are offended at it." This performance, together with the comedy before alluded to, when considered as boyish productions, certainly deserve to rank among the curiosities of literature. At the early age of sixteen we find him an author; and, what is more, a successful one. He wrote and Mrs. Jordan produced for her benefit, at Drury Lane, the comedy of the East Indian, which was triumphantly received. At the same time he was busily engaged upon a novel called the "Effusions of Sensibility;" two volumes of which were written but never published. It con- Temporary pecuniary embarrassments, attensisted principally of letters from Lady Harrow- dant upon his parents' separation and his desire heart to Miss Sophonisba Simper, and was in- to add to his mother's income, were probably the tended to burlesque the prevailing rage for that causes which first violently impelled Lewis to fashionable nonsense which is too successfully encouraged even at this day. Some of these letters are capital and we cannot forbear a short extract: literary labors. We say impelled, because otherwise, however great may have been his literary predilections, he might not have begun so early or prosecuted his labors with so much assiduity and anxiety, as he appears, from his letter, to have "Fair and smiling blushed the young and rubicand morn when I stept into my father's post formed, he published a volume of poems. They employed. Soon after his first play was perchaise and four on Friday last. The azure atmosphere smiled with touching serenity; the of course did not sell-we say of course, for the feathered songsters poured forth their early ori- world was the same then as now, and poems unsous from the May-besprinkled bushes; and the trumpeted by circumstances or fame are in these heifers hastening to their daily labors lowed cheer- days bankrupt stock. That such was the case fully to hail the gold-streaked dawn. But my sad heart was incapable of sharing the calm moreover appears from the following jeu d' esprit, pleasures which on all sides offered themselves to written by him a few years after the publication my eyes. In vain did the atmosphere smile-I in question, and entitled could not smile at the atmosphere. In vain did the birds trill their warbling songs-I could not trill my song in concert. In vain did the heifers lowI could not low in return. Leaden sorrow op "A PALPABLE FALSEHOOD. In your last book, friend Mat, you really tell Your title page asserts, 'sold by John Bell;' How can you say 'tis sold when no one buys it?" ed these as assistants to that eccentric reputation which he every where sustained—whether inten About this period, amid struggles for literary tionally or not is a matter of debate. To illusfame, he spent much time in Germany and trate this, take the following lines from his trageFrance; in the former country, exploring the dy of " Adelgitha." mines of romance and sentiment, which are there so extended and deep. The appetite for the horrible, which had been engendered in Lewis while he was young, still clung to him. He obtained a great part of this from his mother, and it is probable her favorite work, "Glanville on Witchcraft," had no small influence over his early dreams. "For in the wax of a soft infant's memory Things horrible sink deep, and sternly settle." "Tis in man's power never to sin at all; But, sinning once, to stop exceeds his power." His sister, Lady Lushington, prevailed upon him to allow her supervision of his Castle Spectre and he consented, and before it was acted, full a quarter of the piece was struck out or altered. Among his poems is that celebrated one “The Maniac," which has been lately joined to thrilling music and sung by a distinguished composer. It was originally a monodrama and presented by While abroad he wrote, in the short space of Mrs. Litchfield, a tragic actress, at one of her ten weeks, a romance of between three and four benefits. Her character as a maniac, and her hundred pages!—almost equal to the exertions of embodiment of the author's imaginings, comWalter Scott in his most facile moments. On bined with the scenic effect, threw a portion of his return it was published under the title of the audience into hysterics and the whole thea"Ambrosia or the Monk." Never did a work of tre into confusion and horror. Even the box so young an author (for he was then not quite keepers took fright, and universal terror clothed twenty) or scarcely of one mature in years, sob- the countenances of boxes, pit and gallery. Mrs. tain a more rapid sale or more tenaciously seize Litchfield herself, in acting, was very near faintupon the public attention. It was assailed by ing. Of course the piece was withdrawn, but some critics on the score of immorality and pla- the author was sufficiently complimented by its giarism; they alleging under the latter head that the author had borrowed largely from Canzotte, Smollett and Mrs. Radcliffe. By others its claims to originality and power were immediately allowed. effect, if compliment it be, to well-nigh kill a whole assemblage. The piece, with Lewis's stage directions and in its original form, is much more effective than as a bit of poetry or as a song. In its primitive dress we present it. It had run through two editions when the The scene represents a dungeon in which is a Attorney General moved for an injunction to grated door guarded by strong bars and chains. restrain its further publication, giving as a reaIn the upper part is an open gallery leading to son its undoubted immorality and its skilful dis- The captive is discovered in the attitude of hopethe cells above. Slow and melancholy music. guise of vice. The injunction, however, was less grief: she is in chains; her eyes are fixed never granted-perhaps because in the third edi- with a vacant stare, and her hands are folded. tion the author expunged a large portion of the After a pause the Gaoler is seen passing through book. From this work he took his title of Monk; the upper gallery with a lamp; he appears at many then believed it his real name, his first ini- bars falling rouses the captive. She looks around grate and opens the door. The noise of the tial M readily assisting their delusion. He was eagerly; but on seeing the Gaoler enter, she by no means offended at the appellation and waves her hand mournfully and relapses into her answered to it readily and good humoredly, for former stupor. The Gaoler replenishes a jug he was as eccentric and covetous of notoriety as he was talented and persevering. This romance was rapidly succeeded by the "Castle Spectre," a drama; " Alphonse of Castile," a tragedy; "Rugantino" a drama; "Adelgitha," a tragedy; and "The Wood Demon," an opera, to all of which stirring and agreeable music was wedded by his friend Michael Kelly, the distinguished composer and tenor singer. "The Bravo of Venice" and "Tales of Wonder and Terror" with sundry poems constitute the principal remaining portion of his literary labors. Most of those were of decided immoral tendency; his views of vice and error were as ori the with water, and places a loaf of bread by her "Stay, Gaoler stay, and hear my woe! I am not mad, [kissing his hand] I am not mad. He offers to leave her; she detains him, and ginal as destructive; and it is probable he adopt-'continues in a tone of eager persuasion. C A tyrant husband forged the tale Oh haste, my father's heart to cheer; I am not mad! not mad! not mad! Harsh music, while the Gaoler, with a look of contempt and disbelief, forces his hand from her grasp and leaves her. The bars are heard replacing. He smiles in scorn!-He turns the key! Plaintive music; the light growing fainter as the Gaoler retires through the gallery, and the captive watches his departure with eager looks. 'Tis lost!-and all is gloom again. She shivers and wraps her garment more closeily around her. Cold!-bitter cold!-no warmth !-no light! Yet here I'm chained this freezing night, A few bars of melancholy music, which she interrupts by exclaiming suddenly, "Tis sure a dream!-some fancy vain! Interrupting herself hastily, and pressing her hands forcibly against her forehead. But 'tis not mad-no-'tis not mad! She remains fixed in this attitude, with a look of fear, till the music changing, expresses that some tender, melancholy reflection has passed her mind. My child!-ah! hast thou not forgot by this She'll ne'er forget your parting kiss, With a sudden burst of passionate grief, approaching to frenzy, And art thou now forever gone? My pretty, pretty, pretty, lad! She falls, exhausted, against the grate, by the bars of which she supports herself. She is roused from her stupor by loud shrieks, rattling of chains, etc. Hark! Hark!-what mean those yells-those cries? His chain some furious madman breaks! The madman is seen to rush along the gallery with a blazing firebrand in his hand, He comes! I see his glaring eyes! The madman appears at the grate, which he endeavors to force, while she shrinks in an agony of terror. Now! now! my dungeons bars he shakes, Scared by her cries the madman quits the grate. He again appears in the gallery above, is seized by his keepers with torches! and after some resistance is dragged away. He's gone!-oh fearful woe Such screams to hear, such sights to see. She dashes herself in frenzy upon the ground. [With a smile.] Nor round her neck how fast you clung, est daughter. They are followed by servants Nor how you sued with her to stay, Nor how that suit your sire forbade ! [With agony.] Nor how-[With a look of terror.] I'll drive such thoughts away In a hollow, hurried voice, A pause-she then proceeds with a melancholy smile. His rosy lips, how sweet they smiled! His mild blue eyes how bright they shone. Was never born a lovelier child! VOL. XV-30 with torches, part of whom remain in the galle- Gaoler is ordered to retire and obeys; the father master would leave them free at his death-a very again endeavors to awaken her attention, but in indiscreet act when the character of the West Invain. He covers his face with his handkerchief dian negro is considered-some of them very natuwhich the captive draws away with a look of rally concluded that the sooner he died the better surprise. Their hopes are excited and they watch her with eagerness. She wipes the old was it for their interest. One of them stole into man's eyes with her hair, which she afterwards Lewis's room and well-nigh assassinated him. Intouches and, finding it wet with tears, bursts into deed it has been said that his last sickness, which a delirious laugh, resumes her crown of straw, was called yellow fever, was the effect of slow poiand after working at it eagerly for a moment, sons administered by his cook. His death ocsuddenly drops it and remains motionless with a curred on ship-board on the 13th of May, 1818; vacant stare. The father and brothers express his age being forty-five. And it is not a little their despair-the music ceases. An old ser vant enters, leading her child, who advances remarkable that the same person who watched carelessly but on seeing his mother, breaks his last illness should have performed a similar from the servant, runs to her and clasps her service for Lord Byron, between whom and hand. She looks at him with a vacant stare, Lewis had always existed a very intimate friendthen with an expression of excessive joy ex som. claims: "my child," and clasps him to her bo-ship. The unfortunate author died in most conThe relatives raise their hands to heaven vulsive agonies, principally occasioned by an in thankfulness for her restored reason, and the emetic, which was heedlessly administered while curtain falls slowly to solemn music. his retchings were still violent. On account of his death by the yellow fever it was judged best to commit his remains to the deep and not convey them to England. His body was placed in a rough coffin, covered with a sail, and with weights attached, and plunged into the ocean amid the deep sorrow of all on board. Singular to To his other versatilities of genius, Mr. Lewis added the character of musician. He sang and accompanied himself on the piano with considerable effect: and to many of his songs he he has united original music of a high order, which exactly corresponds in expression with the words. relate the wind filled the little sail which covered his remains and bore it up. The coffin bark, floating upon the buoyant wave, was slowly wafted by the breeze from the astonished gaze of crew and passengers. He who had lived amid the supernatural all his life and had created terrors while living, imparted the same effect when dead. Whether his body at last sunk or reached some distant beach was never known. For some years previous Lewis had retired in a measure from the world of fashion and had Lewis's generosity was well known, although he was extremely retiring in all his bounties. He educated and established in society the son of a lady whose acquaintance he had made through a bookseller, and whose circumstances had driven her to literary labors. In writing to the latter, after sending her money, etc., he concludes thus: "I beg you to spare all thanks. When a person of your feelings and character accepts a kindness, you confer, not receive an obligation." Taking refuge in a cottage, near his own hermit residence, from the peltings of a spent much time abroad in the society of Byron storm, he stumbled upon a young man who made and Shelley. The announcement of his death, a scanty living by writing sermons for lazy cu- therefore, did not create so great a sensation as rates. He inquired into his circumstances, left one would suppose the departure of a person him money and shortly after remitted him suffi- well known in the circles of literature and sociecient capital to open a small country bookstore. ty might occasion. His relatives and immediate The worthy object of his bounty never knew friends felt his decease deeply, and many an obwho was his patron, until being one evening at ject of the departed's bounty shed in secret warm Drury Lane, he recognised in the manager's-box Mr. Lewis as the same person who had taken refuge in his cottage many years previous. and bitter tears. Mr. Lewis was of singular composition; he was moody, petulant, pathetic, affectionate, genSo far did his natural generosity lead him, that erous, mournful and gay all in the same breath. when, upon his father's decease, he came into a As is the case with many men of genius-Dickvery large property in the West Indies, he em- ens and Hood for example-his literary vein was barked for the latter place and employed many equally pathetic and humorous. Of the former, months in meliorating the condition of his slaves his "Crazy Jane" and "Maniac" are sufficient and improving their social relations. He even examples. Of the latter, take the following exdrew up a will in which he gave them uncondi- tract of a letter to his mother: tional freedom. The slaves of his own and the "My new servant is very stupid and very foradjoining plantations hailed him as almost a di-getful; and so awkward that when he comes into vinity, and loudly sung his praises. It being announced to them, however, that their a room he seems to communicate the principle of life to all the books and chairs and cups and |