The World. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1891-1896, 1893-03-28
Al FIT OF INSPIRATION.


less sentimental name than John
Thomas Augustus Brownrigg. But
names. like appearances. are deceptive
and the young man who bore the ono
quoted was among the most scnti-
mental Of creatures. His weakness---n
weakness il was expressed itself in
the particular form Of poetic cffusion.
From the early age Of six he had dab
bled in verses. and blythe time he was
twenty-one he must have invoked the
muse to the extent 81 several reafns Of
foolscap. But hitherto the mappre-
ciative obduracy Of editors and pnb-
fishers had prevented his efforts from
seeing the light Of print; indeed, the
farthest lie had ever got on the road 70
publication was 10 pay the Authors
Alliance tlimitcd) twenty guineas for
bringing out--or, as Il proved, not
bringing out--a volume Of his poems.
Tho worthy Brownrigg. however,
was not so easily daunted or put out
Of conceit with himself lie remem-
Bered Wordsworth and Keats, and how
the literary fraternity 81 their day had
snnbbed them nj 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 1t irresistible as
the ocean through a breach in dam.
This opening the one thing needful
for him. he tried for q long, long time
in vain 10 get; but at length q favor
able opportunity presented itself by
the kindness Of friend he was given
an introduction to the editor OF popu-
lar monthly magazine; and this editor,
u good-naturcd man, in an unusually
good-natured moment commissioned
him TO write some verses on the death
Of leading minister Of the crown,
which had just then occurred The
editor did. irdeed, reserve TO himself
the right Of rejecting the verses II they
were not up to the mark; but this
caused Brownrigg no uneasiness what
ever. up to the mark, forsooth!'
He was granted week in which 70
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 a holiday, hay
ing some time back made an engage
ment with an old school-fellow, who
wns then in town for a few days, TO
lunch with him At the .'Cri and then
10 on TO matinee Of Henry VIII
He came up, therefore, from Ealing,
where he lived, to keep his engage
mcnt, and, after a copious and elab-
crate lunch, repaired with his friend
to the Lyccum, finding himself almost
too drowsy 10 enjoy the piece.
When 1t was over, nothing would snt-
isfy his friend but that they should 90
and split another bottle of champagne
at neighboring restaurant, which
they accordingly did And it was get
ting quite late In the evening when
Brownrigg hurried off 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 Tn,
derground railway ssxerc almost de.
serted. And the Smoking compart
ment, into which our friend betook him
self at Gloucester road, presented the
unusual spectacle, ut that time of day
Of being entirely empty.
Brownrigg was glad Of this. For the
effect Of the champagne and of gooo
cigar had been to put him into dream
lily poetical frame Of mind, in which h,
relished the idea Of lying drowsily bacl
in the corner of the carriage ant
breeding over the verses in self-ab
sorbed solitude So, as the train movet
out, he surrendered himself to thu
dreamy languor, half closing his eyes
and waiting for poetical thoughts t.
fall and entrance him
He had not been long in this iethar
gie state, feeding his mind with higl
inspiring thoughts on the great sub
1ect which engrossed him, when actua
lines and verses began to shape them
selves in his brain, and gradually 10 &:
themselves there in the tangible form
Of articulate words.
They seemed to come to him with d
effort--at least, no conscious effort
an his part, but, as it were, srontan
eously; until five completed verses
verses, too, such as he had never hope
70 write-had riveted themselves in hi
memory. This, then, wa
poetic inspiration. No racking Of til
brain for ideas; no beating about 70
rhymes; no paltry drudgery with pc
and ink; but simple surrendering q
ones self to dreamy meditativeness an
aleaying Of all tile rest to the heaven
" muse!
II Ealing Broadway had not beel
q terminus Brownrigg would infallibl
have been carried beyond his destina
ton For as il was, he had TO b
reused by a porter before he coul
awake from the dreams Of poetry /
the facts Of practical life. He rubbe
his eyes, shook himself and steppe
out OF the train Those verses-dreac
full thought.-had they vanished wit
his dream? No, Than
Heaven! They were still clear a.
fresh In his memory. He would con
init them 70 paper at once in case the
might escape him. So. taking out hi
pocketbook he wrote them down hast
~ then and there, being more tina
ever struck with the beauties Of b
own muse as he saw them Ia black an
white What a hit they would max,
Why, they were worthy
Tennyson himself!
lie said nothing to anyone about th
wonderful phase Of inspiration whic
had oyerta ken him amid the prosa
surroundings Of Tie District 7 aiIrga Z,