tions to this dead and gone old periodical con-acter and manners of the great man, and it was sisted of critical notices of new works by En- a constant source of pleasure to him to watch glish and American authors; among others one his deportment toward his family, his neighby his friend Paulding, who had dropped into bors, his domestics, his very dogs and cats. "It poetry with a "Lay of the Scottish Fiddle"; of a is a perfect picture to see Scott and his houseseries of biographies of the naval heroes of our hold assembled of an evening - the dogs second war with England; and of a revised stretched before the fire, the cat perched on a and enlarged memoir of the poet Campbell, chair, Mrs. Scott and the girls sewing, and Scott which he had written at the request of his either reading out of some old romance, or tellbrother a year or two before, to accompany an ing border stories. Our amusements were ocAmerican edition of his poetical works. Irving casionally diversified by a border song from signed off what was owing to him, and peace Sophia, who is as well versed in border minwith England being declared shortly after, he strelsy as her father." This pilgrimage to Abdeparted for Europe for the second time on the botsford, which is described at length in the fifth 25th of May, 1815. He was a partner in a mer-volume of Lockhart's "Life of Scott," was cantile house, which his brothers Peter and brought about by Campbell. "When you see Ebenezer had started in Liverpool, and it was Tom Campbell," Scott wrote to one of his quite as much to assist the former, who was in friends, "tell him, with my best love, that I have ill-health, as to divert himself, that he undertook to thank him for making me known to Mr. the journey. He remained at Liverpool for some Washington Irving, who is one of the best and time, examining the affairs of "P. & E. Irving & pleasantest acquaintances I have made this many Co.," which had fallen into confusion on account a day." of the sickness of his brother and the death of The house of the Irving brothers succeeded so his principal clerk, mastering details, and learn-ill in England that the two resident partners ing book-keeping, in order to straighten out Peter and Washington, finally made up their their books. The business of the Irving brothers ended in failure, owing to a variety of causes, which there is no occasion to specify now, and the literary member of the firm turned his attention again to the only business for which he was really fitted. He had renewed his acquaintance with Alston, who was now residing in London, and had met Leslie, the artist, both of whom were making designs for a new edition of his "History of New York."

66

The summer of 1817 found Irving in London, whence he paid a visit to Sydenham to Campbell, who was simmering over his " Specimens of the English Poets," and where he dined with Murray, the bookseller, who showed him a long letter from Byron, who was in Italy, and was engaged on the fourth canto of "Childe Harold," and who had told him that he was much happier after breaking with Lady Byron-he hated this still, quiet life." From London he proceeded to Edinburgh, whence he walked out to a mansion, which had been taken by Jeffrey, with whom he dined, after which he rattled off by the mail coach to Selkirk, and by chaise to Melrose. On his way to the latter place he stopped at the gate at Abbotsford, and sent in his letter of introduction to Scott. The glorious old minstrel himself came hobbling to the gate, and took him by the hand in a way that made him feel as if they were old friends; in a moment he was seated at his hospitable board among his charming family. He passed two days at Abbotsford, rambling about the hills with his bost, and visiting the haunts of Thomas the Rhymer, and other spots rendered classic by border tale and song, in a kind of dream. He was delighted with the char

minds to go into bankruptcy. The necessary proceedings occupied some months, during which time the latter shut himself up from society, and studied German day and night, partly in the hope that it would be some service to him, and partly to keep off uncomfortable thoughts. His brother William, who was in Congress, had exerted himself to have him made Secretary of Legation at the Court of St. James, but in vain; and his friend, Commodore Decatur, had kept a place for him in the Navy Board, the salary of which would enable him to live in Washington like a prince. He concluded not to accept it, however, greatly to the chagrin of his brothers, but to remain abroad, and battle with fortune on his own account. So he went up to London again in the summer of 1818, to see if he could not live by his pen.

Nearly nine years had elapsed since the publication of the "History of New York," and with the exception of his reviews and biographies in the Analectic Magazine, he had written nothing. His mercantile connection with his brothers had proved disastrous to them as well as to himself, and he was now dependent on his own exertions. If there is anything in experience that fits one for literature, he was better fitted for it than ever before. He had passed through troubles which had deepened his knowledge of life, having lost his father, who died shortly before the completion of "Salmagundi," and his mother, who died about ten years later, and whose death was still fresh in his memory. Between these two sorrows came the tragedy which darkened his young manhood, and was never forgotten-the death of Matilda Hoffman, the young lady tc

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whom he was attached, who closed her brief ex-pared to look for in an American), and he was istence at the age of eighteen, while he was com- pleased to say that he scarcely knew an Englishposing the amusing annals of Mr. Diedrich man who could have written it. Another EnglishKnickerbocker. He was a bold American who man was of the same gracious opinion as this would dare to attempt at that time to live by illustrious novelist-Mr. William Jerdan, the edauthorship in his own country, which had known itor of the London Literary Gazette, who began to but one professional author, Charles Brockden | reprint the first number of "The Sketch-Book" in Brown, who had died about eight years before, at the carly age of thirty-nine; but he was a bolder American who would dare to attempt the same hazardous feat in England. Such a man was Irving, who settled down in London in his thirty-sixth year, to see if he could earn his living by his pen. His capital was the practice he already possessed, and some unfinished sketches, upon which he had been engaged, precisely when, or where, we are not told. He set to work on these sketches, with the intention of issuing them in numbers as a periodical publication, and when he had finished enough to make the first number he dispatched the manuscript across the Atlantic to his brother Ebenezer, in February, 1819. It was put to press under the title The Sketch-Book of Geoffrey Crayon," and published in May, simultaneously in New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Baltimore. It contained six papers, or sketches, of which the perennial Rip Van Winkle soon became a general favorite. There was an immediate demand for "The Sketch-Book," for as one of Irving's critics observed, the honor of our national literature was so associated with his name, that the pride as well as the better feelings of his countrymen, were interested in accumulating the gifts of his genius. He was congratulated on resuming the pen, in the Analectic, by his friend Gulian C. Verplanck (who, by the way, had not taken kindly to his Knickerbocker), who saw in every page his rich, and sometimes extravagant humor, his gay and graceful fancy, his peculiar choice and felicity of original expression, as well as the pure and fine moral feeling which imperceptibly pervaded every thought and image. The second number, which was finished before the publication of the first, was enriched by the exquisite paper on Rural Life in England, and the pathetic story of The Broken Heart. Mr. Richard Henry Dana wrote of the former, in the North American Review, that it left its readers as restored and cheerful as if they had been passing an hour or two in the very fields and woods themselves; and that his scenery was so true, so full of little beautiful particulars, and so varied, and yet so connected in character, that the distant was brought nigh, and the whole was seen and felt like a delightful reality. A copy of this number was placed by one of Irving's friends in the hands of William Godwin, the famous author of "Caleb Williams," who found everywhere in it the marks of a mind of the utmost elegance and refinement (a thing, you know, that he was not exactly pre

his periodical, which was somehow regarded as an authority in literature. A copy of the third number, which was published in America in September, reached England, and came into the possession of a London publisher, who was considering the propriety of bringing out the whole work. This determined Irving to revise the numbers that he had already published, that they might, at least, come before the English public correctly, and he accordingly took them to Murray, with whom he left them for examination, stating that he had materials on hand for a second volume. The great man declined to engage in their publication, because he did not see "that scope in the nature of it to make satisfactory accounts" between them; but he offered to do what he could to promote their circulation, and was ready to attend to any future plan of his. Irving then bethought himself of Scott, to whom he sent the printed numbers, with a letter, in which he observed that a reverse had taken place in his affairs since he had the pleasure of enjoying his hospitality, which made the exercise of his pen important to him. He soon received a reply from Scott, who spoke very highly of his talents, and offered him the editorship of an Anti-Jacobin periodical, which had been projected at Edinburgh, the salary of which would be £500 a year certain, with the reasonable prospect of further advantages. When the parcel reached him, as it did at Edinburgh, he added, in a postscript, "I am just here, and have glanced over the Sketch-Book; it is positively beautiful, and increases my desire to crimp you if possible." Irving immediately declined the editorship proposed to him, feeling peculiarly unfitted for the post, and being as useless for regular service as one of his country Indians or a Don Cossack. Having by this time concluded to print the book at his own risk, he found no difficulty in finding a publisher, who was unlucky enough to fail just as it was getting into fair circulation. Scott came up to London at this juncture, for the purpose of receiving his baronetcy, and he called upon Murray, who now saw "that scope in the nature" of the Sketch-Book which it had lacked before, and who printed an edition of the first volume, and put the second volume to press, and so became Irving's publisher.

The "Sketch-Book" put four hundred pounds in the pocket of Irving, and made him famous Jeffrey wrote of it in the Edinburgh Review. that he had seldom seen a work that gave him a more pleasing impression of the writer's char

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Court of Bermuda, to which he had been appoint ed about seventeen years before. Moore jotted down in his Diary that they met at the table d'hôte, at Meurice's (the most expensive hotel in Paris), and that the successful author was "a good-looking and intelligent-mannered man." Seven days later they met at Moore's cottage in the Champs Elysées, and scarcely a day passed without their seeing each other. Moore was trying to work, now on his Life of Sheridan, and now on an Egyptian romance, but it was the merest pretence, as his Diary bears witness; for he notes, in one entry, that he had been no less than five weeks in writing one hundred and ninety-two lines of verse; and in another, when he thought he had been more industrious, that he had written nearly fifty lines in a week. The fertility of Irving, who wrote with ease, when he could write at all, astonished him. "Irving called near dinner time," he wrote on March 19th, 1821; "asked him to stay and share our roast chicken with us, which he did. He has been hard at work writing lately; in the course of ten days he has written about one hundred and thirty pages of the size of those in the 'SketchBook;' this is amazing rapidity."

acter, or a more favorable one of his judgment | Government had against him, on account of the and taste; Lockhart declared in Blackwood that defalcation of the deputy who had filled, in his "Mr. Washington Irving is one of our first favor-place, the office of Registrar of the Admiralty ites among the English writers of this age, and he is not a bit the less so for being born in America;" and Mrs. Siddons gave it the seal of her authority, and intimidated Irving, when he was introduced to her, by saying, in her most tragic way, "You've made me weep." Byron, who read all the new works of the time with avidity, wrote to his and Irving's publisher, Murray, "Crayon is very good;" and shortly before his death waxed eloquent in his praise to a young American, who had called upon him, and who, at his request, had brought him a copy of the "Sketch-Book." "I handed it to him, when, seizing it with enthusiasm, he turned to the 'Broken Heart.' 'That,' said he, 'is one of the finest things ever written on earth, and I want to hear an American read it. But stay-do you know Irving?' I replied that I had never seen him. 'God bless him!' exclaimed Byron: He is a genius; and he has something better than genius-a heart. I wish I could see him, but I fear I never shall. Well, read the 'Broken Heart"-yes, the " Broken Heart." What a word!' In closing the first paragraph, I said, 'Shall I confess it? I do believe in broken hearts.' 'Yes,' exclaimed Byron, and so do I, and so does everybody but philosophers and fools?' While I was reading one of the most touching portions of that mournful piece, I observed that Byron wept. He turned his eyes upon me, and said, 'You see me weep, sir. Irving himself never wrote that story without weeping; nor can I hear it without tears. I have not wept much in this world, for trouble never brings tears to my eyes, but I always have tears for the "Broken Heart." He concluded by praising the verses of Moore at the end of the story, and asking if there were many such men as Irving in America? God don't send many such spirits into this world.'" The lives of authors are not often interesting, A whim for travelling, which frequently seized apart from the light which they shed upon him, sent Irving back to London in the summer their writings, and the life of Irving was not, I of 1821, with no definite object in view, unless it think, an exception to the rule. What it was was to see his friends, and the approaching hitherto we have seen, and what it was hereafter coronation of George the Fourth. He was I shall show, though not in its details, which fortunate enough to witness the procession from were neither striking nor important. Five years a stand on the outside of Westminster Abbey, had now elapsed since he left America, and and to meet with Scott, who told him that he twelve more years were to elapse before he re- should have seen it from within the Abbey, turned to it. He had published his third book, which he might easily have done, as his name and had made a name for himself in England; would have got him in anywhere. He brought in other words. he had found his true vocation, over with him a petite comedy of Payne's, with and it would be his own fault if he did not the ominous title of "The Borrower," and made pursue it with honor and profit. The summer a fruitless attempt to have it produced on the of 1820 found him in Paris with his brother stage. He also brought over the manuscript of Peter, and before the close of the year he had a new book, his speed in writing which had so made the acquaintance of Moore, the poet, who amazed Moore, and worked upon it when he was was sporting in exile in France, while his friends in the humor. When it was finished, which was were trying to settle a claim which the English not until the following winter, he was wa'ted

Another writer was in exile in France at this time, a fellow townsman of Irving, John Howard Payne, who had taken the critics of New York by storm when he played Young Norval at the Park Theatre; who had gone to England about two years before Irving, where he became a dramatic author, with some success, and a manager, with none at all; and who is now chiefly remembered by the song of "Home, Sweet Home." London growing too small for him, he escaped to Paris, where Irving breakfasted with him, after which they paid a visit to Talma together.

upon by Colburn, the publisher, with a letter of his creditors, and put himself in communication introduction from Campbell, and an offer of a thousand guineas. He was not inclined to leave Murray, who had treated him very handsomely, and was anxious to publish another book for him. Irving named the price he wished-fifteen hundred guineas, which rather staggered the prince of booksellers. "If you had said a thousand guineas," he began. You shall have it for a thousand guineas," replied Irving, and the bargain was completed.

with Charles Kemble. While he was undergoing the delay incident to acceptance or rejection, Irving transmitted to him the manuscript of "Charles II., or the Merry Monarch," a three act comedy, from the French of "La Jeunesse de Henri V.," of which, as far as I can understand, he was nearly, if not quite, the sole author, or adapter. It was sold by Payne to Covent Garden Theatre for two hundred guineas, together with "La Jeunesse de Richelieu," and was produced in the following spring (May, 1824) with great success. "La Jeunesse de Richelieu" was produced nearly two years later, and withdrawn after a few nights.

Concerning Irving's fourth book, "Bracebridge Hall," which was published in England and America in May, 1832, critical opinions differed. The North American Review for July, speaking in the person of Mr. Edward Everett, its editor, Literary activity returned to Irving during this had no hesitation in pronouncing it equal to any- curious dramatic episode in his career, stimulathing which the then age of English literature ted, no doubt, by a letter from Murray, who had produced in the department of essay- asked him what he might expect from him in writing, and praised it for its admirable sketches the course of the winter. He replied that he of life and manners, highly curious in them- should probably have two more volumes of the selves, and rendered almost important by the "Sketch-Book" ready by spring, and began to good-natured mock gravity, the ironical rever-write the story of Wolfert Webber, which he ence, and lively wit with which they were de- soon laid aside. His journal chronicles the scribed. Jeffrey recognized the singular sweet-progress of his labor, which proceeded at a rapid ness of the composition, and the mildness of the rate, in spite of his dinings out, hastened, persentiments, but thought the rhythm and melody haps, by the title which he found for his new of the sentences excessive, in that they wore an work, "Tales of a Traveller," and by Murray's air of mannerism, and created an impression of offering twelve hundred guineas for it, without the labor that must have been bestowed upon seeing the manuscript. When it was finished what was but a secondary attribute of good he took it over to London, where he met Murray, writing. "who behaved like a gentleman,” i. e., gave him Wearied by his London life, Irving started on fifteen hundred guineas for it, as well as several a tour on the Continent, which lasted about a celebrities, including William Spencer, Proctor, month, and which finally brought up at Paris. Rogers, and Moore, the last of whom went with He was not in trim for composition when he him to Bowood, the seat of Lord Lansdowne. settled down again, but was haunted by the He was not brilliant as a conversationist at this dread of future failure, a kind of nervous horror time, whatever he may have been later, for which frequently overpowered him. His poetic Moore notes in his Diary that at two dinners friend, Moore, had returned to England, where which he mentions, he was sleepy, and did not he had been delivered of his "Loves of the open his mouth, and adds, curtly, “Not strong as Angels," but his dramatic friend, Payne, was still a lion, but delightful as a domestic animal.” an exile in Paris, and was the tenant of two The Tales of a Traveller" appeared in two residences, one of which, in the Rue Richelieu, volumes in England, and in America in four he rented to Irving. He succeeded in persuad- parts. It sold well in the former country; but it ing Irving to join him in his dramatic under- can hardly be said to have been a literary suctakings, one of which, already far advanced, cess in either, especially in the latter, where the was "La Jeunesse de Richelieu," a French play, press were hostile to it. Wilson, speaking which had been acted about thirty years before. through the mouth of Timothy Tickler, in They were to divide the profits, if there were Blackwood, said, "I have been terribly disapany, and Irving's share in the projected manufac-pointed in the 'Tales of a Traveller;'" and the tures was to be kept secret. They must have worked with great rapidity, for in addition to the play just mentioned they completed a translation of another, entitled “Azendai," which was intended to be set to music; besides two others, "Belles and Bailiffs," and "Married and Single," not forgetting "Abul Hassan," a German opera, which Irving had done into English at Dresden. Laden with these productions, Payne set off privately for London, from which he was debarred by

reviewer of the London Quarterly, though he praises the story of Buckthorne, from which he thought it probable that he might, as a novelist, prove no contemptible rival to Goldsmith, warns him that he must in future be true to his own reputation throughout, and correct the habits of indolence, which so considerable a part of the work evince.

Irving's next intellectual labor after his return to France, was the planning of a series of papers,

the proper execution of which demanded, I By the publication of "The Life and Voyages think, a weightier pen than he possessed, con- of Columbus," in 1828, the popularity of Irving, sisting, as it did, of serious essays upon American which had waned somewhat since the day when Manners, National Life, Public Prosperity, he first burst upon the world of English readers Probity of Dealings, Education of Youth, and in his "Sketch-Book," rose anew, and shone such like grave and momentous problems. He with greater lustre. The importance of the work was interrupted in the writing by a letter from was recognized on both sides of the water, as Mr. Alexander H. Everett, Minister Plenipoten- well as the brilliancy of its execution. Jeffrey, tiary of the United States at Madrid, whom he who reviewed it in the Edinburgh, declared that had previously met at Paris, and who had, at his it was not only excellent, but that it would enrequest, attached him to the embassy. This dure. "For we mean," he explained, “not merely letter contained his passport, and a proposition that the book will be known and referred to from Mr. Everett that he should translate Navar- twenty or thirty years hence, and will pass in rete's Voyages of Columbus," which was then solid binding into every considerable collection; in the press. It was compiled by this accom- but that it will supersede all former works on the plished scholar from the papers of Columbus, same subject, and never be itself superseded." as preserved by the famous Bishop Las Casas, Not less enthusiastic was the carefully considered and of extracts from his journal; and it con- opinion of Irving's friend, Everett, who origitained, as Irving found shortly after his arrival nally suggested the translation from Navarrete at Madrid, many documents hitherto unknown, out of which it had grown, and who pronounced which threw additional light on the discovery of it, in the North American Review, one of the the New World; but was defective as a whole few books which are at once the delight of read(at any rate for his purpose), in that it was rather ers and the despair of critics. 'It is as nearly a rich mass for history, than history itself. He perfect as any work can be; and there is little abandoned, therefore, the idea of translating it, or nothing left for the reviewer but to write at and began to institute fresh researches on his the bottom of every page, as Voltaire said he own account, examining manuscripts, and taking would be obliged to do if he published a comvoluminous notes for a regular Life of the great mentary on Racine, 'Pulchré! bene! optimé!' navigator. He has at length filled up the void that before Irving commenced his task in February, 1826, existed in this respect, in the literature of the and labored upon it unceasingly for six months, worid, and produced a work which will fully sometimes writing all day, and until twelve at satisfy the public, and supersede the necessity of night. His attention was diverted from it in any future labors in the same field. While we August by the "Conquest of Granada," which so venture to predict that the adventures of Cointerested him that he devoted himself to it till lumbus will hereafter be read only in the work of November, when he threw aside the rough draft, Mr. Irving, we can not but think it a beautiful coand returned to his greater work, which was not incidence that the task of duly celebrating the ready for the press until July of the following achievements of the discoverer of our continent year. Leslie had sounded Murray about the letter should have been reserved for one of its inhabitbefore it was begun, but the wily publisher fought ants; and that the earliest professed author of firstshy at first. "He would gladly," he says, "re-rate talent who appeared among us should have ceive anything from you of original matter, devoted one of his most important and finished which he considers certain of success, whatever works to this pious purpose. it might be; but with regard to the Voyages of Columbus, he can not form any opinion at present." When the manuscript was finished Irving sent it to England, to the care of his friend, Colonel Aspinwall, American Consul at London, whom he made his agent in the disposal of it, and wrote a letter to Murray, in which he stated the sum he wanted for it-three thousand guineas; but also stated that he would be willing to publish on shares. Colonel Aspinwall played his cards so well that Murray concluded not to publish it on shares, but to pay the three thousand guineas out and out. The manuscript was shown to Southey, who pronounced the most unqualified praise of it, both as to matter and manner; and Murray himself said it was beautiful, beautiful-the best thing that Irving had ever written.

'Such honors Ilion to her hero paid,

And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade.'

For the particular kind of historical writing in which Mr. Irving is fitted to labor and excel, the 'Life of Columbus' is undoubtedly one of the very best-perhaps we might say, without fear of any mistake, the very best-subject afforded by the annals of the world."

The magnitude of the task which he had completed so satisfactorily, left Irving leisure to make a tour which he had planned with his brother Peter, but the ill-health of that gentleman, who now returned by slow stages to Paris, compelled him to forego the pleasure of his company, and to replace it by the company of two Russian diplomatists, with whom he set out on March 1st, by the diligence for Cordova. They reached