The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1893-02-07
A FIT OF INSPIRATION.
The Way It Supplied a Wished
For Poem

ana LIE young man VINO bore the one
quoted was among the most senti
mental of creatures His weakness-i1
weakness 1t was-eIpresSed itself Ia
the particular form OF poetic effusion.
From the early age of six he had dab
bled n verses, and by the time he was
twenty-one he must have invoked the
muse TO the extent Of several reams OF
foolscap. But hitherto the inappre-
ciatiye obduracy of editors and pub.
fishers had prevented his efforts from
seeing the light of print; indeed. the
farthest he had ever got on the road to
publication was to pay the Authors
Alliance (hmited) twenty guineas for
bringing out-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-
bered 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 Browurigg,
only had to wait for ultimate success.
Once give him an opening and he
would rush through it irresistible as
the ocean through = breach in a dam.
This opening. the one thing needful
for him, he tried for long, long time
in vain 10 get; but at length a favor
able opportunity presented itself. BY
the kindness OF friend lie was given
an introduction to the editor of popu-
lar monthly magazine; and this editor,
a gOod-natured man, in an unusually
good-natured 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 if 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 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 e few days, to
lunch with him at the ''Cri" and then
go on to a matinee of Henry Will"
He came up, therefore, from Ealing,
where he lived, to keep his engage
ment, and, after copious and elab-
crate lunch, repaired with his friend
to the Eyceum, finding himself almost
too drowsy to enjoy the piece.
When it was over, nothing would sat
isfy his friend but that they should go
and split another bottle of champagne
at neighberiDg 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
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 IN
foreground railway were almost de-
serted. And the smoking compart-
ment, into which our friend betook him
self at Gloucester road, presented the
spectacle, at that time of day,
of being entirely empty.
Brownrigg was glad of this. For the
effect of the champagne and of a good
cigar had been to put him into dream
lily poetical frame of mind, in which he
relished the idea Of lying drowsily back
in the corner of the carriage and
breeding 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
thoughts on the great sub
ject which engrossed him, when actual
lines and verses began to shape them
selves in his brain, and gradually to fix
themselves there in the tangible form
of articulate words.
They seemed to come TO him with no
e ffort-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 his
memory. This. then, was
poetic inspiration. No racking of the
brain for ideas; no beating about for
rhymes; no pGltry drudgery with pen
and ink; but a simple surrendering Of
ones self TO dreamy meditativeness and
a leaving of all the rest to the heaven
ly muse!
II Ealing Broadway" had not been
q terminus Brownrigg would infallibly
have been carried beyond his destiua-
tiona For, as It was, ne had 70 be
reused by porter before he could
awake from the dreams Of poetry to
the facts Of practical life. He rubbed
MS eyes, shook himself and stepped
out Of the train. Those verses-dresd-
ful thoughtl-had they vanished with
his dream? Noi Thank
Hearen! They were still clear and
fresh IN his memory. He would com
nit them to paper At once in case they
might escape him So, taking out his
pOcketbCok he wrote them down has5i-
" then and there. being more than
ever ST ruck with the beauties Of his
own II use as he saw them in black aud
white What hit they would make.
> Why, they were worthy Ok
Tennyson himself
lie said nothing % anyone about this
wonderful phase Of inspiration which
had ore-t2 ken HIN amid the pr0salc
of the District railway.
But next day be posted the verses,
which pleased him more every time Re
read them, TO the editor Of MAYFAIR,
? xpress;nc a hone that they might be