218 



CALAMITIES OF LIVING MEN OF GENIUS. 



heart yearned to his distresses with the kindly feelings of a brother 

 and a man. 



" Stay/' said he: for the poor heart-broken poet had already left 

 him. " Stay I am an author, like yourself, and live by my pen ; 

 but am fortunately better placed in society, though with much less 

 genius. If it is in my power to prevent it, you shall not be cast upon 

 the waters. Come to my house be with me for half a year, and 

 execute your great work. I have a spare room, where you shall 

 sleep and work, You shall fare as I do ; and you can use your time 

 to the best advantage." 



" My dear Brooks !" exclaimed the astonished poet, " you over- 

 whelm me. I know not how " 



" A truce with feeling, Spencer," said his warm-hearted friend. 

 " The invitation is freely given every thing will be very pleasant. 

 Come to-morrow." 



We will pass over the poet's extasies, and the expressions of his 

 gratitude ; but, on the next morning, we find him seated comfortably 

 at the breakfast-table of his friend, and treated with all kindness and 

 consideration by Mrs. Brooks. It would be tedious to dwell on his 

 lengthened visit : suffice it to say, that every thing was made as plea- 

 sant for him as his friendly host had intimated. After breakfast, he 

 regularly retired to his work at the poem which he expected was to 

 make his fame. The anticipations of his friend were scarcely less 

 sanguine than his own; time flowed on; and from the hours he 

 laboured, much was augured of the progress of his work. Feelings 

 of delicacy, on the part of Brooks, forbade any other than casual 

 inquiry ; for, like a jealous artist, the poet seemed unwilling that his 

 work should suffer from criticism in detail. He was determined to 

 astonish his friend with the full blaze of his genius. He was right. 

 If ever you would produce an effect, never endanger it by partial ex- 

 hibitions. 



In the mean time, Spencer dined regularly with his friend en fa- 

 mille, or with an occasional party, as it might happen. Sometimes, 

 after dinner, he strolled out for exercise visited his acquaintance 

 lounged at the theatres or returned to his room after coffee ; in 

 short, he was quite confiding and comfortable. His work was pro- 

 ceeding rapidly, but the contents of his writing-desk were still 

 secret. 



" Well," Brooks would say sometimes, " how do you get on, my 

 boy?" 



" Gloriously !" was the reply. 



Six months had now nearly elapsed the finishing was only want- 

 ing to the work. He was revising it carefully, previously to sub- 

 mitting it for Brooks's approbation ; who, as it drew near completion, 

 became more than usually anxious. His wife likewise partook of his 

 feelings : for so jealously had Spencer kept his secret, that neither 

 the subject of his book, nor eveh the title, had escaped him. 



One day they had waited some time for Spencer at dinner. He 

 was usually punctual, and Mrs. Brooks rather remarked it ; but her 

 husband thinking he had finished the work, and might bring the 

 manuscript down with him, would not let him be disturbed. An 



