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516

Memoir of James Montgomery, Esq.

And the warm visions of a wayward mind,
Whose transient splendour left a gloom be-
hind,

Frail as the clouds of sun-set, and as fair,
Pageants of light, resolving into air."

At last, the Moravian brethren, finding
it impossible to cure the disease which
sunk deeper and deeper into his heart,
abandoned their long cherished hope of
seeing him a minister; and he was placed
with a view to an apprenticeship with
a very worthy man of the same religious
persuasion, who kept a retail shop at
Mirfield, near Wakefield. He was
treated with the greatest tenderness
whilst he remained in this situation: but
the business making only a small demand
on his time, he indulged in day-dreams, in
which he saw the world and its honours
depicted in vivid colours; that world
into which, in reality, he had as yet
scarcely advanced a single step. With
his mind continually brooding on one
point, it is scarcely to be wondered at,
that after he had been at Mirfield about
a year, and as he was not an articled
apprentice, knowing that he could not
be forced back, contrary to his own
wishes, and at an age when remote con-
sequences are not taken into calculation,
or obvious probabilities into contempla-
tion, he determined to quit his situation;
and with the clothes on his back, a
single change of linen, and three shil-
lings and sixpence in his pocket, he car-
ried his design into effect, leaving be-
hind him a letter to his employer, in
which he detailed the uneasiness of his
mind, and gave a promise that he should
be heard from again in a few days.
"Thus," to use his own words to a
friend," at the age of sixteen, set out
James Montgomery to begin the world."
As he advanced towards the busy scene,
he found that the picture conceived by
his imagination was far from being
correct in its outline, and much over-
charged with colour: in short, he found
the world very unlike what he had
figured to himself at Fulnick, and from
what he had conceived from the almost
as distant and indistinct view he had of
it from Mirfield. The great object of
his wishes was to proceed at once to
London: for it was there his heated
imagination had depicted the honours
and the riches which awaited him; but
to go thither was impossible; and on
the fourth day he engaged himself in a
situation similar to that which he had
left, at Wash, near Rotherham, from
whence he fulfilled his promise of writ-
ing to his former protector, from whom

[Jan. 1,

he demanded such a character as would
recommend him to the confidence of his
new employer. This he boldly asked,
for his service had been faithful, and
not even the slightest spot had ever
stained his moral character. The good
man laid this letter before the Moravian
council of ministers at Fulnick, where
they meet to regulate the affairs of the
society. They respected Montgomery,
for his genius did them honour; and he
was beloved by them, for he was amiable,
though he had disappointed their hopes:
they therefore agreed to write any tes-
timony which he might require,
"if he
obstinately persisted in his resolutions
to leave them." They, however, in-
structed his late master to make him
any offers he might find equal to the
task of inducing him to return to the
fold he had left. The worthy mediator
then repaired to the young man at Ro-
therham. The meeting was affecting;
for both parties had feeling hearts. The
elder, though he had deplored the fro-
wardness of his young friend, loved him
for his amiable and ingenuous simpli-
city, and for the very genius which
had removed him from the influence
of sober counsels; and the runaway
loved and venerated the elder for the
goodness of his heart, and the parent-
like kindness he had always shewn him.
They met in the inn yard, and forgetting
there were any spectators of the scene,
impelled by benevolent tenderness on
the one hand, and by respectful and
grateful affection on the other, they
rushed at once into each others arms,
and burst into tears. It required all the
resolution of the youthful votary of am-
bition and the muses, to resist the kind-
ness of the intreaties, and the flattering
offers which were made him to return.
He, however, did resist them; and though
his firmness gave pain to his old friend,
it did not make him less kind. He sup-
plied his immediate wants, sent him the
clothes, &c. he had left at Mirfield, and,
not content with giving him a written
testimonial of the estimation in which
he held him, he called personally on his
protegé's new employer, to recommend
him to his confidence and protection.
Mr. Montgomery remained at Hash
only twelve months, which time was
passed in the fulfilment of his engage-
inent, in cherishing a melancholy which
resulted from the peculiarity of his clois-
tered, and perhaps too strictly religious
education, and in the cultivation of those
talents which have since benefited the
world. Indeed, the conflict between his

1819.]

Memoir of James Montgomery, Esq.

religious and, his poetical feelings was
almost incessant, and whether

"To wither in the blossom of renown,
And, unrecorded, to the dust go down-
Or for a name on earth to quit the prize
Of immortality beyond the skies,
Perplex'd his wavering choice."

World before the Flood. At last, genius triumphed; and having prepared the way for an introduction to the capital, by sending a volume of manuscript poems to Mr. Harrison, a bookseller in Paternoster Row, he removed to London.

Mr. Harrison gave him a situation in his shop, and encouraged him to cultivate his talents, though he declined publishing his poems, not deeming them likely to better his fortune, or to lift him up to fame. The bright star which had allured him from Fulnick, from Mirfield, and from Wash, now seemed, to his sickened hope, a very ignis fatuus; and in the darkness of disappointment he lost sight of the splendid vision of immortality, and the munificent patronage which sanguine anticipation had promised him. At the end of eight months, having had a misunderstanding with Mr. Harrison, and having tried, in vain, to induce a bookseller to treat with him for an Eastern tale in prose, to which he had been persuaded to turn his attention as more profitable than poetry, he returned to his last situation in Yorkshire, where he was received with the heartiest welcome, and all possible kindness for his value being fairly appreciated, and his virtues understood, his employer loved him with all the affection of a father. "It was this master," says the writer of a "Biographical Sketch of Mr. Montgomery," published in the Monthly Mirror of January, 1897, " that many years afterwards, in the most calamitous period of Montgomery's life, sought him out in the midst of his misfortunes, not for the purpose of offering him consolation only, but of serving him substantially by every means in his power. The interview which took place between the old man and his former servant the evening previous to the trial at Doncaster, will ever live in the remembrance of him who can forget an injury, but not a kindness. No father could have evinced a greater affection for a darling son; the tears he shed were honourable to his feelings, and were the best testimony to the conduct and integrity of James Montgomery."

In 1792, he removed to Sheffield, and engaged himself with Mr. GALES, who

517

at that time published a very popular newspaper, to which during the continuation of this connection, which lasted till Mr. Gales left England, Montgomery occasionally contributed essays and verses, which, notwithstanding the "Sheffield Register" was devoted to popular politics, were very seldom political; for, as the author of the sketch before quoted has observed, "the Muses had his whole heart, and he sedulously cultivated their favours, though no longer with those false, yet animating hopes, which formerly stimulated his exertions."

It was the fate of the young poet to conciliate the affections of all with whom he came in contact in domestic society; and Mr. Gales and his amiable family vied with each other in demonstrating their respect and regard for him; treating him like a brother, and nursing him with the most solicitous tenderness, during a long and painful illness, with which he was afflicted in the year 1793. In 1794, when Mr. Gales left England, to avoid a political prosecution, Montgomery, by the assistance of a gentleman, to whom, except in a knowledge of his talents, he was almost a stranger, became the publisher of the newspaper-the title of which he changed for that of the "Iris." of the politics of the " Register," it would be irrelevant to speak; but by the observance of a greater degree of moderation in censuring public measures, and by being less speculative in reform, the new editor gave offence to many of his readers; though others thought the paper had acquired a new interest in the greater degree of originality and literary merit of its more miscellaneous columns. Amongst other articles, was one which he denominated "The Enthusiast:" this was particularly attractive to his friends, since they could not but see that the portrait exhibited was a playfully-sketched likeness of the mind of the editor himself. But with all his care to avoid the fate of his predecessor, it was not long before he fell into a snare, which had all the appearance of having been laid for him. Amongst the types, &c. in the printing office, when it was transferred to him, was a song, which, to use the technical phrase, had been set up in type some time before Mr. Gales left England; this song, the type of which it was composed not being wanted, remained in statu quo. It was a song written by a clergyman in Ireland, in commemoration of the demolition of the Bastile, in 1789, and was sung at Belfast, on the 14th July, 1792,

518

Memoir of James Montgomery, Esq.

on the anniversary of that event. It had been copied into half the newspapers in the kingdom, and had not the least allusion to the war, which broke out nine months after it was written. Montgomery was ignorant that the song was ready in his office for the press, till a hawker informed him of the fact, at the same time requesting him to print a few quires for him: this, in the first instance, was refused, as he was not in the habit of printing such articles for hawkers; importunity, however, prevailed; the song being in his eye perfectly harmless. Others, it appeared, thought differently; for the hawker was taken up a few days afterwards at Wakefield, and there became evidence against the printer, who was tried at the January Quarter Sessions, 1795, and found guilty of publishing. This verdict, which was in fact an acquittal, was refused by the court; and the jury, on reconsidering for another hour, then gave in a general verdict of guilty. The sentence, which was delivered by M. A. Taylor, esq. who presided, was a fine of twenty pounds, and three months imprisonment in York Castle.

Our author was not ruined by his incarceration; for an active friend superintended his business during his confinement; and on his return, after the completion of the sentence, he was welcomed home by all parties, as one "more sinned against than sinning." On re suming his editorial duties, in order to banish speculative politics as much as possible from the " Iris," he commenced a series of essays, which he called "The Whisperer." A very considerable portion of genuine humour, both in prose and verse, was observable in these effusions; and though they were hastily written, and hastily published, to meet the public eye, they will be read with much interest by those who may have the good for tune to possess one of the very few copies which (in 1798) their ingenious author published in a single volume, for the originals in the "Iris" must have nearly all perished by the accidents which generally make newspaper litera-` ture so short-lived.

It was not long, however, notwithstanding his anxiety to avoid giving of fence, before the amiable editor of the "Iris" was again entangled in the web of law. He had scarcely become warm in his office, when a riot took place in the streets of Sheffield, in which two men were killed by the military. He de tailed the circumstance, as it appeared to

[Jan. 1,

him, correctly; but a magistrate in the neighbourhood, who was also a volunteer officer, felt aggrieved at the narrative, and preferred a bill of indictment against the printer for a libel, which was tried at Doncaster Sessions, in January, 1796. The defence he set up was a justification of the statement which he had published; and a cloud of witnesses established it. He was however found guilty, and sentenced to pay a fine of thirty pounds, and to suffer another imprisonment in York Castle for the space of six months. Whatever may be thought of the sentence, it is but justice to both plaintiff and defendant, to add, that the former treated the latter, after his return from York Castle, with marked kindness and attention; promoted his interest by every mean in his power, and even seemed to take a pleasure in shewing him marks of respect in public. A few years before he died, (for he has been dead many years,) when presiding at the Quarter Sessions, he saw Mr. Montgomery amongst the crowd of auditors, and instantly called to the proper officer to make way for him, inviting him, at the same time, to come up and sit upon the bench beside himself, where he would be less inconvenienced. Mr. Montgomery did seat himself there and who would not, at that moment, have envied his feelings? His was the triumph of proclaimed truth and innocence. And yet the circumstance reflected honour on the proper feeling and candour of his late prosecutor.

Whilst Montgomery remained in York Castle, where he had the satisfaction of being treated with respect by all around him, and where, after a few days, he was accommodated with an apartment exclusively his own, and with the range of the extensive Castle yard, he bore up his spirits by the consciousness, that his sufferings were unmerited; and filled up his time by correspondence with his friends, by writing articles for his newspaper, and by seizing the opportunity which secluded leisure afforded him, to new-string his lyre; his

chasen treasure,

Solace of his bleeding heart; for it was now that he composed the poems, which he afterwards (in 1797) published under the title of Prison Amusements." He also revised, during, his seclusion, a work of greater magnitude,replete with wit, and with such wild sallies of humour, that no one could sup pose that they emanated from the same

1810.]

Memoir of James Montgomery, Esq.

pen which traced the "Harp of Sorrow." This work, however, has been profitless; for he could not be prevailed upon to let it meet the public eye, though it was calculated to have caused as many hearty peels of sympathizing laughter, as his melancholy tones had drawn tears.

519

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Be all thy virtues, all thy genius mine!

will every one who is intimate with the Like his great prototype-for such. features of Montgomery's mind pro

He was liberated on the 5th of July, 1796, and immediately went to Scarborough, in order to brace his shattered constitution, which, delicate as it was from nature, had suffered much from excessive anxiety and imprisonment. Heggerated conviction of the awful situa

now, for the first time since he was four years of age, saw the sea. Το a mind like his, the magnificence of the ocean, and the high-piled grandeur of the Yorkshire coast, were sublime spectacles; and they afforded him uncommon gratification-a gratification which was repeated in subsequent visits, and which (in 1805) gave birth to his poem on "The Ocean;" a production which will be read with delight as long as the language in which it is written shall exist. This, his first visit to Scarborough, occupied about three weeks, after which, with improved health and spirits, he returned to Sheffield and the duties of his occupation.

his

In the following spring he published
"Prison Amusements." These
poems were received, wherever they
were seen, with approbation; but their
author made no effort to put them in
the way of notoriety; and he was still
more careless of the fate of a series of
essays, which he drew from the pages of
the "Iris," under the title of The
Whisperer," in 1798. From this time—
till in 1806 he produced the volume con-
taining "The Wanderer of Switzer-
land" he confined his pen chiefly to his
editorial duties; indulging himself in
cherishing those feelings which have
marked in his character so striking a re-
semblance to that of the amiable and
highly-gifted, but melancholy, Cowper;
a resemblance of which all his friends
are fully sensible, and of which he him-
self seemed to be aware, when in his
"West Indies" he thus speaks of the
poet of Olney, in advocating the cause
of the poor negroes:-
"The muse to whom the lyre and lute be-
long,

Whose song of freedom is her noblest song,
The lyre, with awful indignation swept,
O'er the sweet lute in silent sorrow wept.-
When Albion's crimes drew thunder from

her tongue

When Afric's woes o'erwhelmed her while

she sung.

Lamented CowPER, in thy paths I tread:-
Oh! that on me were thy meek spirit shed!

spirit humbly obedient to its God, and
nounce Cowper to have been-with a
tremblingly alive to the due performance
of every moral obligation, extraordi-
nary susceptibility, and perhaps, an ex-
tion in which mortality is placed, he
exhibits occasionally a melancholy gloom
fancy, and arrests the progress of his
which enchains his vigorous and elastic
playful pen.
And, as he so well ex-

presses it in a passage of " Javan,”
"The world, whose charms his young affec
He found too mean for his immortal soul.
tions stole,
Wound into life through all his feelings
wrought,

Death and eternity possessed his thought."

"The fame he followed, and the fame he found,

Healed not his heart's immedicable wound; Admired, applauded, crowned where'er he roved,

The bard was homeless, friendless, unbeAll else that breathed below the circling loved.

sky,

Were linked to earth by some endearing
tie;

He only, like the ocean weed uptorn,
And loose along the world of waters borne,
Was cast, companionless, from wave to
wave,

On life's rough sea-and there' was none to

save.

The picture which our poet has drawn of the antediluvian bard, however, fails' in its generally close resemblance to himself in one of its lines; for although he has never been married, and in that sense is "homeless," he has never been "friendless," nor" unbeloved;" for few persons can be acquainted with him without feeling an interest in his happiness-and there is no one that knows him intimately, who does not love and esteem him. But the other part of the portrait is so strikingly similar to his own character, that the likeness is scarcely to be mistaken.

But to proceed. "The Wanderer of Switzerland" was sent into the world. It was read, and admired; and its author was immediately acknowledged worthy of being registered on the roll of genuine poets. Another poem of a very different character had been prepared to

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520

Memoir of James Montgomery, Esq.,

take the lead of the minor pieces which are appended to the volume: but this the author superseded when nearly the whole of it was printed. Why he discarded the "Loss of the Locks" he has not declared; but having had the satisfaction of perusing this disinterested child of the Muse, the writer of this article cannot help expressing his concern that the world has not been allowed to participate in the gratification it afforded him. In 1809, the first edition of." The West Indies" was published in quarto, with superb embellishments. As the work was not advertised in the usual manner, and as the expensive scale on which it was got up by Mr. BowYER, the publisher, seemed to demand, it was little known till it was printed in a portable form: of which upwards of ten thousand copies have been since sold. The feeling and piety which pervade every page were to be expected from the pen of Montgomery; but the harmony was not exclusively composed of such notes as are best drawn from a "Harp of Sorrow" for there were amongst them such as he blew from the trumpet of his wrath, and such as his JUBAL Struck when he swept the "living lyre," and in indignant strains sung man's oppression—

"For now a bolder hand he flings

And dives among the deepest strings ;Then forth the music brake like thunder." The same observation applies to his "World before the Flood," published in 1812, although, perhaps, from the very title and subject, the popularity of that volume has not equalled its precursors. It is, however, a poem which must rise in estimation in proportion as it is known; for no man of taste and feeling can possibly read it without wishing to make others participate in the pleasure he has derived from it. In the course of this sketch of the life of its author, several passages have been quoted of no common interest; and if the poem is unequal in its interest, it has resulted from the subject itself, which fettered the imagination of the poet; obliging him to correspond in his flights with the obscurely detailed circumstances related of some of his PERSONA, in the sacred volume from which he drew them. As a proof of this, it will be acknowledged, even by those who are most in unison with the author, in devotedness to the holy text, that in those portions of the narrative in which he has adhered the closest, and with the greatest revernce to the authority which furnished

(Jan. I,

the foundation, though he intertwines the sublime and solemn strains of divinely inspired poesy, he is then the least attractive, because the thoughts have been long familiar to his readers. Human nature has a greedy curiosity, a never satisfied thirst for novelty; and where disappointment follows expectancy, the substitution of more sublime and more important, but already known truths, are coolly received; and even of the most bewitching strokes of harmony, if they are already familiar to the ear, whatever talent be displayed, or however skilful the variation, the approval is always qualified. Thus, if our author, in the "World before the Flood," had not tied himself so closely to the letter of the text, his strains would have commanded more attention, and would have elicited more applause; for where he has found himself unshackled by the record, he has burst boldly into the realms of invention, and enriched his pages with the spoil. Where he did not feel himself bound by conscience to use scriptural phraseology, in elucidation of scriptural facts, he repaired to the storehouse of his own brilliant imagination, and drew from thence those interesting incidents and tasteful decorations which he has so variously and happily applied throughout the poem.

Since he sung of the antediluvians, he has published nothing except his newspaper, and a tribute to the memory of the late Mr. Reynolds; but he has had on hand, for some time, a Poem, which was announced for publication several months ago, but which procrastination, (still Cowper-like) has detained from the press. Fastidious in the extreme in deciding where his reputation may be committed, and tremblingly fearful of putting forth a line which might possibly be construed to militate, in the least degree, against any thing which he deems a divine or a moral obligation, he tries every note with the most careful solicitude, in the solitude of his study, before he ventures to breathe the strain in public, lest a chord should vibrate in unison with some idea less pure than his own.

When his promised poem appears, judging from what has been already seen, it is not too much to expect that the public stock of intelleetual pleasures will receive a valuable increase, and the poet an additional sprig to the Parnassian he has so fairly earned and so modestly wears.

As the editor of a newspaper the subject of this memoir must, to a certain

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