162 



POETRY AND POETS. 



Some few present learnt the truth, was like a vision of paradise to him ; 



but the major part of the company 

 retired not very well pleased, and 

 under the impression that Mr. Cole- 

 ridge had either broken his leg, or 

 that some severe family affliction 

 had occurred. 



Mr. Coleridge's rather habitual 

 absence of mind, with the little im- 

 portance he generally attached to 

 engagements, renders it likely that 

 at this very time he might have 



been found at T , College Street, 



composedly smoking his pipe, and 

 lost in profound musings on his 

 divine Susquehanna. 



An eminent medical man in Bris- 

 tol, who greatly admired Mr. Cole- 

 ridge's conversation and genius, on 

 one occasion invited Mr. C. to dine 

 with him on a given day. The in- 

 vitation was accepted, and this gen- 

 tleman, willing to gratify his friends 

 with an introduction to Mr. Cole- 

 ridge, invited a large assembly for 

 the express purpose of meeting 

 him, and made a splendid enter- 

 tainment, anticipating the delight 

 which would be universally felt 



from Mr. 

 eloquence. 



Coleridge's far-famed 



It unfortunately happened that 

 Mr. Coleridge had forgotten all 

 about it ; and the gentleman, with 

 Ms guests, after waiting till the 

 hot became cold, under his mortifi- 

 cation consoled himself by the re- 

 solve never again to subject himself 

 to the like disaster. No explana- 

 tion or apology from Mr. Coleridge's 

 friends could soothe the choler of 

 this disciple of Galen. 



A dozen subscribers to his lec- 

 tures fell off from this slip of his 

 memory. 



WORDSWORTH'S WANT OF SMELL. 



Wordsworth had no sense of 

 smell. Once, and once only in his 

 life, the dormant power awakened. 

 It was by a bed of stocks in full 

 bloom, at a house which he inha- 

 bited in Dorsetshire, and he said it 



but it lasted only a few moments, 

 and the faculty continued torpid 

 from that time. 



THEODORE E. HOOK. 



I remember, one day at Syden- 

 ham, Mr. Theodore Hook coming 

 in unexpectedly to dinner, and 

 amusing us very much with his 

 talent at extempore verse. He was 

 then a youth, tall, dark, and of a 

 good person, with small eyes, and 

 features more round than weak ; a 

 face that had character and humour, 

 but no refinement. His extempore 

 verses were really surprising. 



It is easy enough to extemporize 

 in Italian. One only wonders how, 

 in a language in which every thing 

 conspires to render verse-making 

 easy, and it is difficult to avoid 

 rhyming, this talent should be so- 

 much cried up. But in English it 

 is another matter. I have known 

 but one other person besides Hook 

 who could extemporize in English; 

 and he wanted the confidence to do 

 it in public. Of course, I speak of 



rhyming. Extempore blank verse, 

 little practice, would be 



with 



found as easy in English, as rhym- 

 ing is in Italian. 



In Hook the faculty was very 

 unequivocal. He could not have 

 been aware of the character of all 

 the visitors, still less of the subject 

 of conversation when he came in, 

 and he talked his full share till 

 called upon. Yet he ran his jokes 

 and his verses upon us all in the 

 easiest manner, saying something 

 characteristic of every ' body, or 

 avoiding it with a pun ; and he in- 

 troduced so agreeably a piece of 

 village scandal, upon which the 

 party had been rallying Campbell, 

 that the poet, though not uujealous 

 of his dignity, was, perhaps, the 

 most pleased of us all. 



Theodore afterwards sat down to 

 the pianoforte, and enlarging upon 

 this subject made an extempore 



