St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1893-04-01
A FIT OF INSPIRATION.
The Way Il Supplied q Wished
For Poem.

Inc way IL SOppile0 q Wl6oe0.
For Poem.
You could not very we'll conceive
less sentimental name than John
Thomas Augustus BrOwnrigg. But
names, like appearances, are deceptive,
and the. young man who bore the one
quoted was among the most senti-
mental of creatures. His weakness-f
weakness it was-expressed itself in
the particular form OF poetic effusion.
From the early age of six he had dab
bled in verses, and by the time he was
twenty-ore he must have invoked the
muse to the extent Of several reams of
foolscap. But hitherto the inappre-
ciative obduracy of editors and pub
fishers had prevented his efforts from
seeing the light of print; indeed. the
fsrthest lie had ever got on the road 10
publication was to pay the Authors
Alliance Qimited) twenty guineas for
bringing oEt-or, as it proved, not
bringing out-a volume of his poems.
The worthy Brownrigg. however,
was not SO easily daunted or put out
of conceit with himself. He remem-
cered Wordsworth and Keats. and how
the literary fraternity of their day had
snubbed them at the outset True
genius, he modestly consoled himself.
though often secuted in its initial
stage, was sure to find recognition in
the end; and he, Augustus Brownrigg,
only had to wait for ultimate success
Once give him an opening and he
would rush through it irresistible a.
the ocean through a breach in . dam.
This opening. the one thing needful
for him. he tried for . long, long time
in vain to get; bat at length a favor
able opportunity presented itself by
the kindness of friend he was given
nm introduction to the editor of a popu-
lar monthly magazine; and this editor.
. good-naturcd man, in an unusually
goOd-naturcd moment, commissioned
him to write some verses on the death
of q leading minister of the crown,
which had just then occurred. The
editor did. Indeed, reserve to himself
the right of rejecting the verses ii they
were not up to the mark; but this
caused Brownrigg no uueasiness what
ever. up to the mark, forsooth:''
He was granted 4 week in which to
write the verses. One day in this week,
viz, the Saturday preceding the Tues
day ON which the verses were to be
sent in, the poet took as . holiday, hav-
ing some time back made an engage
ment with an old schoOl-fellow, who
was then in town for q few days, to
lunch with him at the ''Cri." and then
90 on to q matinee of 'Henry Will"
lie came up. therefore, from Ealing,
where he lived, to keep his engage
ment. and, after 2 copious and elab-
crate lunch, repaired with his friend
to the EyceaA6.e snding himself almost
too drowsy to en joy the piece.
When it was over, nothing would sat
isfy his friend but that they should go
and split another bottle of champagne
at q neighboring restaurant which
they accordingly did. And it was get
ting quite late in the evening when
Brownrigg hurried of to catch the
train for Ealing, which should get
him home in time for dinner and thus
save him the outpourings of paternal
displeasure. which always greeted him
when he was late for that meal.
1t was the dead season in London
Just then. Hence very few passengers
were about The platforms of the I'm
derground railway were almost de-
serted. And the smoking compart'
ment, into which our friend betoolk him.
self at Gloucester road, presented the
unusual spectacle, at that time of day,
of being entirely empty.
Brownrigg was glad of this. For the
effect of the champagne and of good
cigar had been to put him into dream
ily poetical frame Of mind, in which he
relished the idea Of lying drowsily back
in the corner of the carriage and
bruodiug over the verses in self-ab.
sorbed solitude So. as the train moved
out, he surrendered himself to the
dreamy languor, half closing his eyes,
and waiting for poetical thoughts to
fall and entrance him.
He had not been long in this lethar'
gic state, feeding his mind with high
inspiring thoughts on the great sub
icct which engrossed him, when actual
lines 6uu VCGSCS OCk gu W SnoRC SssNAAs-
selves in his brain. and gradually 70 fix
themselves there in the tangible form
Of articulatc words.
They seemed to come to him with &C
effort-at least, no conscious effort
on his part, but, as it were, spOntan
eously; until five completed verses
verses, too, such as he had never hoped
to write-had riveted themselves in hi,
memory. This. then. was
poetic inspiration. No racking of the
brain for ideas; no beating about TO,
rhymes; no paltry drudgery with per
and ink; but simple surrendering Of
ones self to dreamy meditat!veness and
a leaving of all the rest to the heaven
~ muse!
Ii Ealing Broadway" had not been
. terminus Brownrigg would infallibly
have been carried beyond his destina'
ton. For, as it was. he had to b
reused BY porter before he could
awake from the dreams of poetry Il
the facts Of practical life. He rubbed
his ewes. shook himself and stepped
out of the train. Those verses-dresd
full :hought.-had they vanished with
his dream? No! ThaDl
Heaven! They were still clear ant