The autobiography of Leigh Hunt ...

Front matter

q5

A^

V

Introduction

Page

V

Chap.

I. — The Author's Progenitors II. — Childhood III. — School- days IV. — School -days (contin ucd) V. — Youth

VI. — Playgoing and Volunteers VII. — Essays in Criticism VIII. — Suffering and Eeflection IX.— The "Examiner"

X. — Literary Acquaintance XI. — Political Characters XII. — Literary Warfare XIII. — The Regent and the " Examiner " XIV. — Imprisonment

XV. — Eree Again — Shelley in England XVI. — Keats, Lamb, and Coleridge XVII. — Voyage to Italy SjtVIII. — Return to Eirst Acquaintance with Lord and Thomas Moore .

XIX. — Lord Byron in Italy — Shelley — Pisa XX. — Genoa .....

Byron

278 283 309

IV

CONTENTS.

Chap. Page

XXL — Florence — Bacchus in Tuscany — The Venus de'

Medici — and Italy in General . . .327

XXII. — Return to England . . . . . 356

XXIII.— At Home in England . . . .366

XXIV. — Literary Projects ..... 374

XXV. — Play-writing — Conclusion . . • . 388

XXVI. — Life Drawing towards its Close . . . 403

Postscript . . . . . .411

INTEODUCTION

BY THE AUTHOR'S ELDEST SOX.

This edition of the Autobiography was revised by Mr. Leigh Hunt, and brought down to the present year by his own hand. He had almost completed the passages which he intended to add ; but he had left some portions which were marked for omission in a state of doubt. From the manner in which the work was written, points of interest here and there were passed over indistinctly or omitted altogether, and some inaccuracies were overlooked in the re-perusal. In a further revision by the writer's eldest son, several obscurities have been cleared away, inaccuracies have been corrected, and omissions have been supplied. The interpolated passages, whether in the text or in notes, are distinguished by being included in brackets.

In the Preface to the earlier edition, the Author avowed that he felt a difficulty in having to retrace a life which was marked by comparatively little incident, and was necessarily, therefore, mainly a retrospect of his own writings. Another difficulty, of which he was evidently conscious only through its effect in cramping his pen, lay in an excess of scruple when he approached personal matters. In the revisal of this second edition, however, the lapse of time had in some degree freed him from restraint ; and while

VI INTRODUCTION.

the curtailments necessary to compress the bulk of the volume have been made principally in the more detailed portions of the literary retrospect, the additions have tended to increase the personal interest of the text. The work is relieved of some other portions, because they may be found in his collected writings, or because the subject-matter to which they refer is out of date. The result of the alterations is, that the biographical part of the volume is brought more closely together, while it is presented with greater fulness and distinctness.

The reader of this Autobiography will find it less a relation of the events which happened to the writer, than of their impression on himself, and the feelings which they excited, or the ideas which they prompted. This characteristic of the writing is in a great degree a characteristic of the man, and thus the book reflects his ow T n life more than on a first judgment it might be supposed to do. His whole existence and his habit of mind, were essentially literary. If it were possible to form any computation of the hours which he expended severally in literary labour and in recreation, after the manner of statistical comparisons, it would be found that the largest portion of his hours was devoted to hard work in the seclusion of the study, and that by far the larger portion of the allotted " recreation " was devoted to reading, either in the study or in the society of his family. Those who knew him best will picture him to themselves clothed in a dressing-gown, and bending his head over a book or over the desk. At some periods of his life he rose early, in order that he might get to work early ; in other periods he rose late, because he sat over the desk very late. For the most part, however, he habitually came down " too late " to breakfast, and was no sooner seated sideways at the table than he began to read. After breakfast he repaired to his study,

INTRODUCTION. ^\ vu

where he remained until he went out to take his walk. He sometimes read at dinner, though not always. At some periods of his life he would sleep after dinner ; but usually he retired from the table to read. He read at tea time, and all the evening read or wrote. In early life his profession led him, as a critic, to the theatres, and the same employment took him there at later dates. In the earlier half of his existence he mixed somewhat in society, and his own house was noted, amongst a truly selected circle of friends, for the tasteful ease of its conversation and recreation, music usually forming a staple in both the talk and the diversion. It was at this period of his life that his appearance was most characteristic, and none of the portraits of him adequately conveyed the idea of it. One of the best, a half-length chalk drawing, by an artist named Wildman, perished. The miniature by Severn was only a sketch on a small scale, but it suggested the kindness and animation of his countenance. In other cases, the artists knew too little of their sitter to catch the most familiar traits of his aspect. He was rather tall, as straight as an arrow, and looked slenderer than he really was. His hair was black and shining, and slightly inclined to wave; his head was high, his forehead straight and wdiite, his eyes black and sparkling, his general complexion dark. There was in his whole carriage and manner an extraordinary degree of life. Years and trouble had obscured that brilliancy when the drawing was made of which a copy is prefixed to the present volume ; but it is a faithful portrait, in which the reader will see much of the reflection, the earnestness, and the affectionate thought that were such leading elements in his character.

As life advanced, as his family increased faster than his means, his range of visiting became more contracted, his devotion to labour more continuous, and his friends reduced to the small number of those who came only to vm INTRODUCTION.

steal for conversation the time that he otherwise would have given to his books. Such friends he welcomed heartily, and seldom allowed them to feel the tax which they made him pay for the time thus consumed.

Even at seasons of the greatest depression in his fortunes, he always attracted many visitors, but still not so much for any repute that attended him as for his personal qualities. Few men were more attractive " in society," whether in a large company or over the fireside. His manners were peculiarly animated; his conversation, varied, ranging over a great field of subjects, was moved and called forth by the response of his companion, be that companion philosopher or student, sage or boy, man or woman ; and he was equally ready for the most lively topics or for the gravest reflections — his expression easily adapting itself to the tone of his companion's mind. With much freedom of manners, he combined a spontaneous courtesy that never failed, and a considerateness derived from a ceaseless kindness of heart that invariably fascinated even strangers. In the course of his newspaper career, more than one enemy has come to his house with the determination to extort disavowals or to chastise, and has gone away with loud expressions of his personal esteem and liking.

This tendency to seclusion in the study had a very large and serious influence upon Leigh Hunt's life. It arose, as we have seen, from no dislike to society ; on the contrary, from youth to his very latest days, he preferred to have companions with him ; but it was necessary to be surrounded by his books. He used to ascribe this propensity to his two years' seclusion in prison ; and it is probable that that circumstance did contribute to fasten upon his character what must still have been an inborn tendency ; for it continued through all changes of position. His natural faculties conduced to make him regard all things that came before him chiefly from the

INTRODUCTION. IX

intellectual or imaginative point of view. He had no aptitude for material science, and always retained a very precarious grasp of mere dry facts ; which, indeed, in proportion as they tended to the material or the hard, he almost disliked : the result was, that he viewed all things as in a mirror, and chiefly as they were reflected in books or illuminated by literary commentary.

It is a necessary consequence of such a habit of mind that he often failed to see realities directly as they were ; and a further result was, that false ideas which were industriously circulated of him, in the first instance by political enemies, were confirmed, or even strengthened, by false conceptions which he formed of himself, and did not conceal. At a very early date, he felt bound to avow his liberal opinions on the subject of religion : in those days it was a common and an easy retort for an opponent to insinuate, that the man who was not sound in the most important opinions of all, must be wicked at heart, and therefore immoral in conduct; and, accordingly, Leigh Hunt has been accused of lax morality in his personal life. To him the shocking part o£ these accusals lay in their uncharitableness, their disingenuousness, or their malignity. In reply, he pointed to the charity enjoined by the Divine Author of Christianity, and qualified even his antagonism to such charges by appeals to charitable constructions, and admissions of the foibles of human nature, which suggested that there might be some foundation of truth for the charge. He was accused of improvidence, and he admitted incapacities for computation in matters of money, or anything else, which sounded very like a reluctant confession. Stern critics discerned, in the pleasurable traits of his gayer poems, proofs of effeminacy and weakness ; and throughout Leigh Hunt's writings will be found admissions, or even spontaneous announcements, of personal timidity. If there were not numbers

X IlsTSODTJCTION".

disposed to accept the best construction of the man, it would be difficult indeed to make them easily understand how utterly unfounded are these apparent confirmations and admissions.

Such foibles as Leigh Hunt had lay altogether in different directions. In early life he had no very profound respect for appearances, but his conduct was guided by a rigour of propriety that might shame many of his accusers ; and in later life he entertained a growing respect for appearances from the sense of the mischief which misconstrued example might do. His so-called improvidence resulted partly from actual disappointment in professional undertakings, partly from a real incapacity to understand any subjects when they were reduced to figures, and partly also from a readiness of self-sacrifice, which w r as the less to be guessed by any who knew him, since he seldom alluded to it, and never, except in the vaguest and most unintelligible terms, hinted at its real nature or extent. His personal timidity was simply an intellectual hallucination, in some degree founded upon what he supposed ought to be the utterly unmoved feelings of "a brave man. 5 ' I have seen him in many situations calculated to try the nerves, and never saw him moved by personal fear. He has been in a carriage of which the horses ran away, and seemed only to enjoy the rapidity of the motion ; in fact, I believe he could scarcely present to his mind the chances of personal mischief that were before us. I have seen him threatened, more than once, by brutal and brawny rustics, whom he instantly approached w^ith an animated and convincing remonstrance. I have seen him in a carriage nearly carried away by a flooded river, his whole anxietj^ being centred in one of his children whom he thought to be more exposed than himself. I have seen him for weeks together, each hour of the day, in imminent danger of shipwreck, and never

INTRODUCTION. XI

observed the slightest solicitude, except for those about him. On the occasion which he mentions, when the drunken steward endangered our being run down by two large ships that passed us like vast clouds astern, the lanterns were relit and handed up by Leigh Hunt with the coolness of a practised seaman. But there ivas a species of fear which beset him in every situation of life — it was, lest he might not do quite what was right; lest some terrible evil should be inflicted upon somebody else; and this thought, if he reflected, did sometimes paralyse his action and provoke evident emotion.

Perhaps the mastering trait in his character was a conscientiousness which was carried even to extremes. While he possessed the uncertain grasp of material facts which I have mentioned, and viewed things most distinctly when they were presented to his mind in the mirror of some abstraction, he never was able to rest with a final confidence in his own judgment. The anxiety to recognise the right of others, the tendency to * refine," which was noticed by an early school companion, and the propensity to elaborate every thought, made him, along with the direct argument by which he sustained his own conviction, recognise and almost admit all that might be said on the opposite side. If, indeed, the facts upon which he had to rely had become matter of literary record, he would collect them with an unwearied industry of research ; but in the action of life these resources did not always avail him ; and the excessive anxiety to take into account all that might be advanced on every side, with the no less excessive wish to do what was right, to avoid every chance of wrong, and, if possible, to abstain from causing any pain, begot an uncertainty of purpose for which I can find no known prototype except in the character of Hamlet.

The ultra-conscientiousness has affected even his

XU INTRODUCTION.

biography. With an unbounded frankness in speaking of himself, he soon paused in speaking of others, from the habit of questioning whether he had "any right" to do so ; and thus an habitual frankness was accompanied by an habitual and unconquerable reserve. His Autobiography is characteristically pronounced in its silence. He has nowhere related the most obvious family incidents. The silence is broken almost in an inverse proportion to the intimacy of his relations. He scarcely mentions his own marriage ; excepting the faintest possible allusions, the only one of his children to whom he alludes has been to a certain extent before the public ; and even where his personal friends gave him, in their own recognition by the public, the right to speak of them openly, he has faithfully used the right in the peculiar ratio which has been pointed out, — freely mentioning those with whom he held intercourse chiefly in literary matters or in society, sparingly those whose intercourse powerfully affected his own life. A conspicuous instance is afforded by the friend who ultimately became his successor in maintaining the general independence of the Examiner s who has placed in the library immortal contributions to the political history of the English Commonwealth, who endeared himself to Leigh Hunt even less by most valuable and laborious services than by kindness of heart and generosity of mind, and who retained his strongly expressed affection to the last. It was not that he did not respond to the warmest affection which he could so well inspire ; but in proportion as it was strongly felt and personal he seemed to regard it as unfitted for public allusion.

It would ill become a son gratuitously to reveal fC the faults " of his father ; though he himself taught me to speak out the truth as I believe it. If I differ with him, it is in not being ready to see "faults " in any character, since I know of no abstract or ideal measure by which

INTRODUCTION. Xlll

the shortcoming could be established. But in his case it is most desirable that his qualities should be known as they were; for such deficiencies as he had are the honest explanation of his mistakes ; while, as the reader may see from his writing and his conduct, they are not, as the faults of which he was accused would be, incompatible with the noblest faculties both of head and heart. To know Leigh Hunt as he was, was to hold him in reverence and love.

The likeness to Hamlet was not lost even in a sort of aggressive conscientiousness. It affected his appreciation of character, which w r as, of course, modified also by the oblique sense of facts. Hence, some incidents in his life which had the most serious consequences to others, and therefore to himself. When he first became acquainted with a new friend whom he liked, he noticed with all his vivacity of ready and intense admiration the traits which he thought to be chiefly prominent in the aspect and bearing of the other ; constructed a character infer enti ally, and esteemed his friend accordingly. This constructive appreciation w T ould survive the test of years. Then he would discover that in regard to some quality or other which he had ascribed to his friend " he was mistaken ;" the whole conception of the admired character at once fell to the ground ; and his own disappointment recoiled with bitterness and grief on the perplexed and grieved friend. He never knew the pain he thus caused to some of the most loving hearts, which continued unchanged to him.

If, indeed, he knew it, the simple knowledge was enough to cure the evil. No man ever lived who was more prepared to make thorough work with the practice of his own precepts — and his precepts were always noble in their spirit, charitable in their construction. No injury done to him, however inexcusable, however unceasing, or however painful in its consequences, could

Xiv INTRODUCTION.

exhaust his power of forgiveness. His animation, his sympathy with w T hat was gay and pleasurable, his avowed doctrine of cultivating cheerfulness, were manifest on the surface, and could be appreciated by those who knew him in society, most probably even exaggerated as salient traits, on which he himself insisted with a sort of gay and ostentatious wilfulness. In the spirit which made him disposed to enjoy "anything that w T as going forward," he would even assume for the evening a convivial aspect, and urge a liberal measure of the wine with the gnsto of a hon vivant. Few that knew him so could be aware, not only of the simple and uncostly sources from w r hich he habitually drew his enjoyments, but of his singularly plain life, extended even to a rule of self-denial. Excepting at intervals when wine was recommended to him, or came to him as a gift of friendship, his customary drink was water, which he would drink with the almost daily repetition of Dr. Armstrong's line, " Nought like the simple element dilutes." For, a trick of playing with a certain round of quotations was among the traits of his character most conspicuous even to casual visitors. In the routine of life, it may be said, he almost thought in a slang of the library. His dress was always plain and studiously economical. He would excuse the extreme plainness of his diet, by ascribing it to a delicacy of health, which he overrated. His food was often nothing but bread and meat at dinner, bread and tea for two meals of the day, bread alone for luncheon or for supper. His liberal constructions were shown to others, his strictness to himself. If he heard that a friend was in trouble, his house was offered as a " home ;" and it was literally so, many times in his life. Sometimes this generosity was repaid with outrageous ingratitude — with scandal-mongering, and even calumnious inventions : he excused the wrong, as the eonse-

INTRODUCTION.

quence of deficient sense, of early training, or of congenital fault ; " for," he would remark, « it is impossible to say what share, now, X.'s father and mother may have had in his doing so, or wdiat ancestor of X.'s may not have been really the author of my suffering — and his." When he was once reminded of his sacrifices for others, he answered, as if it dismissed the subject, r It was only for my own relations ;" but his memory deceived him extravagantly. It was not that his kindness was undiscriminating ; for he " drew the line" with much clearness between what he "could" do for the mere sake of helping the unfortunate, and the willingness to share whatever he might have with those he really esteemed and loved — not a few. The tenderness of his affection was excessive : it disarmed some of the most reckless ; it made him throw a veil of impenetrable reserve over weaknesses of others, from which he suffered in ways most calculated to mortify and pain him, but w r hich he suffered with never-failing kindness, and with silence absolutely unbroken.

It must not be supposed, however, that with all his disposition to refine, his love of the pleasurable, and his tenderness, he w^as a mere easy sentimentalist. If he may be compared to Hamlet, it was Hamlet budding himself to hard work, and performing with vigour and conscientious completeness. Seldom have writers so conscientiously verified all their statements of fact. His constant industry has been mentioned : he could work from early morning till far into midnight, every day, for months together ; and he had been a hard-working man all his life. For the greater part, even his recreation was auxiliary to his work. He had thus acquired a knowledge of authorities most unusual, and had heaps of information " at his fingers' ends ;" yet he habitually verified even what he knew already, though it should be only for some parenthetical use. No tenderness could

XVI INTRODUCTION.

shake him from sternly rebuking or opposing where duty bade him do so : and for a principle he was prepared to sacrifice everything, as he had sacrificed money and liberty. For all his excessive desire not to withhold his sympathy, not to hurt others' feelings, or not to overlook any possible excuse for infirmity, moral as w T ell as physical, he never paltered with his own sincerity. He never swerved from what he believed to be the truth.

In the course of his long life as a public writer, political and polemical animosities died away, and were succeeded by a broader recognition of common purposes and common endeavours, to which he had not a little contributed. Although some strange misconceptions of Leigh Hunt's character still remained, — strange, though, as we have seen, not difficult to explain, — the acknowment of his genuine qualities had widely extended. There had been great changes, some liberals had become conservative, more conservatives had become liberal, all had become less dogmatic and uncharitable. His personal friendships embraced every party ; but through all, the spirit of his opinions, the qualities of his character, the unweariedness of his industry, continued the same. To promote the happiness of his kind, to minister to the more educated appreciation of order and beauty, to open more widely the door of the library, and more widely the window of the library looking out upon nature, — these were the purposes that guided his studies and animated his labour to the very last.

AUTOBIOGBAPHY Of LEIGH HUNT.

Chapter I. The Author's Peogenitoes

The circumstances that led to this Autobiography will tran* spire in the course of it. Suffice it to say for the present, that a more involuntary production it would be difficult to conceive ; though I trust it will not be found destitute of the entertainment which any true account of experiences in the life of a human being must of necessity, perhaps, contain.

I claim no importance for anything which I have done or undergone, but on grounds common to the interests of all, and to the willing sympathy of my brother-lovers of books. Should I be led at any time into egotisms of a nature that make me seem to think otherwise, I blush beforehand for the mischance, and beg it to be considered as alien from my habits of reflection. I have had vanities enough in my day ; and, as the reader will see, became aware of them. If I have any remaining, I hope they are only such as nature kindly allows to most of us, in order to comfort us in our regrets and infirmities. And the more we could look even into these, the less ground we should find in them for self-complacency, apart from considerations that respect the whole human race.

There is a phrase, for instance, of " fetching a man's mind from his cradle." But does the mind begin at that point of time? Does it begin even with his parents ? I was looking once, in company with Mr. Hazlitt, at an exhibition of pictures in the British Institution, when casting my eyes on the portrait of an officer in the dress of the time of Charles the Second, I exclaimed, " What a likeness to Basil Montagu ! " (a friend of ours). It turned out to be his ancestor, Lord Sandwich. Mr. Hazlitt took me across the room, and showed

2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF LEIGH HUN?.

me the portrait of a celebrated judge, who lived at the same period. " This," said he, " is Judge So-and-so; and his living representative (he is now dead) has the same face and the same passions." The Hazlitt then of the same age might have been the same Hazlitt that was standing with me before the picture ; and the same may have been the case with the writer of these pages. There is a famous historical bit of transmission called the * Austrian lip ;" and faces, which we consider peculiar to individuals, are said to be common in districts : such as the Boccaccio face in one part of Tuscany, and the Dante face in another. I myself have seen, in the Genoese territory, which is not far from Corsica, many a face like that of the Bonapartes; and where a race has strong blood in it, or whatever may constitute the requisite vital tendency, it is probable that the family likeness might be found to prevail in the humblest as well as highest quarters. There are families, indeed, of yeomen, which are said to have flourished like oaks, in one and the same spot, since the times of the Anglo-Saxons. I am descended, both by father's and mother's side, from adventurous people, who left England for the New World, and whose descendants have retained the spirit of adventure to this day. The chances are, that in some respects I am identical with some half-dozen, or perhaps twenty of these ; and that the mind of some cavalier of the days of the Stuarts, or some gentleman or yeoman, or " roving blade," of those of the Edwards and Henrys — perhaps the gallant merchant-man, " Henry Hunt " of the old ballad — mixed, alas ! with a sedentary difference — is now writing these lines, ignorant of his former earthly self and of his present ! I say earthly, for I speak it with no disparagement to the existence of an individual " soul " — a point in which I am a firm believer ; nor would it be difficult to reconcile one opinion with the other, in ears accustomed to such arguments ; but I must not enter upon them here.*

* " Then Henrye Hunt, with vigour hott, Came bravely on the other side, Soon he drove downe his foremast tree,

(Sir Andrew Barton's, to wit) And killed fourscore men beside. 'Nowe, out alas! ' Sir Andrewe cryed,

* What may a man now think, or say?

Yonder merchant theefe, that pierceth mee, He was my prisoner yesterday.' ° Ballad of Sir Andrew Barton^ in Percy's lieliques, vol. 2.

[Barton

The name of Hunt is found among the gentry, but I suspect it is oftener a plebeian name. Indeed it must be so, like almost all others, from the superabundance of population on the plebeian side. But it has also a superabundance of its own ; for in the list of sixty of the commonest names in England, given by Mr. Lower in his Essay on Family Nomenclature^ it stands fifty-fourth. On the other hand, offsets from aristocratic trees wander into such remote branches, that the same name is found among those of the few families that have a right to quarter the royal arms. I should be very proud to be discovered to be a nine hundred and fiftieth cousin of Queen Victoria ; the more so, inasmuch as I could, patiently enough, have let the claim lie dormant in the case of some of her Majesty's predecessors. My immediate progenitors were clergymen ; and Bryan Edwards's History of the West Indies contains a map of Barbados (their native place) with one of the residences designated by it — apparently a minor estate — yet the name of Hunt does not appear either in the old map in the History of Barbados by Ligon, or in the lists of influential or other persons in that by Sir Robert Schomburgck. There is a " Richard Hunt, Esq." in the list of subscribers to Hughes's Natural History of Barbados, which contains also the name of Dr. Hunt, who was Hebrew and Arabic professor at Oxford, and whose genealogy the biographer cannot discover. Perhaps the good old oriental scholar belongs to our stock, and originated my love of the Arabian Nights ! The tradition in the family is that we descend from Tory cavaliers (a wide designation), who fled to the West Indies from the ascendancy of Cromwell ; and on a female side, amidst a curious mixture of quakers and soldiers, we derive ourselves not only from gentry, but from kings — that is to say, Irish kings ! — personages (not to say it disrespectfully to the wit and misfortunes of the sisterisland) who rank pretty much on a par with the negro chief, surrounded by half a dozen lords in ragged shirts, who asked