*% Poems and Epigrams C. M. INGLEBY A /^/ yss M/7M. Cornell University Library PFI4821.I2P7 Poems and epigrams; 3 1924 013 487 313 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013487313 POEMS AND EPIGRAMS. FROM THE. PORTRAIT AT VALENTINES BVGUIDO SCHMITT. lp)oems anb lEptgrams. CLEMENT MANSFIELD INGLEBY. WITH A SHORT MEMOIR BY HIS SON. 3n IRemembrance. LONDON: TRUBNER & CO., LUDGATE HILL. 1887. [A/i rights reserved. ] T BALLANTYHE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON PREFACE. The short memoir of my father, which precedes this httle collection of his poems and epigrams, was originally written as an introduction to a volume of his essays, which I had prepared for publication. I have, however, considerable hesi- tation in publishing what might not be generally approved by the whole of our family, and I have, therefore, thought it better to confine it, at any rate for the present, within the limits of private circulation. The poems and epigrams have been collected by my sister from various sources, and no pains have been spared to make the collection complete. That it is not entirely so is due to the fact that my father did not keep copies of nume- rous little pieces he wrote, which were scattered far and wide for the temporary amusement of the friends and ac- quaintances, both young and old, with whom he happened to be corresponding. A few of the longer pieces appeared in Once a Week, and The Church of the Saviour Magazine, published at Birmingham. vi Preface. Though not sufificiently numerous, and in parts of too pri- vate a nature, for publication, these short poems and epigrams will probably be treasured as much by his intimate friends as by his immediate relations. HOLCOMBE INGLEBY. Valentines, Ileord, July 1887. CONTENTS. PAGE MEMOIR . ... I POEMS AND EPIGRAMS. Whitby Abbey . . .... . 27 Desiderium . . . . 28 Autumn Leaves . . . .29 The Glacier's Life . . . . . 30 Welcome to Rain . 32 Sequel to Burns' "A Rosebud by my Early Walk" 33 The Cry of the Unregenerate ... ... 34 Song . -35 Loss not Ruin ... . .36 Goethe and Schiller 37 Sorrow . . . 38 Sonnet 39 On the Mi;RE Ang^lique 39 To the Fountain of King Henry the Eighth's Court . 40 Captive Jews by the Waters of Babylon 41 The Real Phcenix .42 Giovanni Strozzi's Epigram on Michael Angelo's Statue of "Night" . . -44 Ad Somnum. . . ... -45 On Hearing Molique ... . .46 Veni Sancte Spiritus f . .46 Bondage and Freedom . . . . . 47 Contents. PAGE Immortality 47 From Goethe .... 48 Epigram on Heinrich Heine . . .... 48 On Milton's Blindness . 49 Lines on the Delay of Herr Wochter's Marriage . . 49 Two Sermons -So "Who was the most Merciful King?" . . 50 On Nina, who said she was idle . . . . 51 At Waking 51 On a Deceased Friend who held Peculiar Views on the Currency Question 51 On his Marriage with Miss Oakes . . .52 On a Tutor, named Penny, to whom he owed Twelve Pounds 52 The Characteristics of Edinbro' . . . . 52 The Beauty of Edinbro' . ... 52 The One-eyed Doll ... • • • S3 To his Bedstead . . ... ■ S'S Epitaph on a Dormouse . ... 54 To Signorina Mussa .... . 55 To Delia .... ... .55 Reply to a Charade . -56 Riddles 56 Ornithanthropos Paradoxus; or the Fairish-flunkey Bird 58 Parody on Lines to the Future Husband of Miss Oakes 59 MEMOIR. Clement Mansfield Ingleby was bom the 29th October, 1823, at Edgbaston, near Birmingham. He was the only son of Clement Ingleby, who, having to make his own way in the world, became an eminent solicitor in the town of Birmingham, well known throughout the Midland Counties in connection with the canals and railways which were then being rapidly constructed. His grandfather, William Ingleby, resided at Cheadle, Stafford- shire, and was an ardent follower of the Hunt. His uncle, John Ingleby, who had also to make his way in the world, be- came an eminent surgeon, his works on certain special subjects obtaining for him a European reputation and honorary degrees in several foreign universities. On his mother's side many of his relations also made their mark, notably his cousin, the late Professor Beete Jukes, whose "Manual of Geology," though since revised and enlarged, has never been superseded. Dr. Ingleby had in his life two fundamental difficulties to contend with — lack of proper education and a delicate constitutiorL The one was in some degree consequent on the other. Almost up to the time that he went to Trinity College, Cambridge, the only education he received was derived from his own reading, superadded to the scraps of learning picked up during the inter- mittent visits of a tutor from King Edward's School, Birmingham. Memoir. Nevertheless, he gave proof that lack of education did not in his case mean lack of study, for at the age of seventeen he wrote, in two parts, a treatise on "The Principles of Acoustics and the Theory of Sound," a subject little understood, and one which most lads of his age would not of their own accord have cared to master. But if his delicate health in some degree interfered with the usual course of education, it did not altogether account for the fact that the talent for music which he exhibited at an early age was neglected, if not suppressed ; for, though allowed to sing without tuition, he was not permitted to learn any instrument. It was a natural consequence of his training, or rather want of training, that when he went to Cambridge, a mathematician at heart, he had to devote himself to classics, in order to pass the necessary examinations ; and it also followed, as a natural consequence of his inability to pursue his mathematical studies, that he was classed as a Senior Optime, when his un- deniable powers marked him out for a Wrangler. There is little out of the ordinary circle to be recorded of his life at Cambridge. But it may be mentioned that it was there that he wrote and published three curious theological tracts, the two first being an analysis of the miracles of the New Testament, the value of the evidence of which he tested by the theory of chances. These he published under an assumed name, the publi- cation being effected through a friend ; and it was not until that friend's death, many years afterwards, when the tracts themselves had been buried in oblivion, that the publishers accidentally dis- covered the real name of the writer. He took his B.A. degree in 1847, his M.A. in 1850, and his LL.D. in 1859. On leaving the University there arose the usual and much-vexed question of the choice of a profession. His father was not the man to encourage a taste for literature, at the expense of some Memoir. more substantial profession. The choice was soon narrowed down to the Bar or a seat in his office. Both were distasteful to him, but there seemed no prospect of escape from one or the other. The latter was -eventually chosen, partly because of the obvious advantage of succeeding to a fine business, and partly because the Bar would have deprived the parents of the pleasure they derived from having their only son with them. It was, however, thought desirable that experience should be gained in London, and for the space of a year or more Dr. Ingleby read at the chambers of Mr. Measure at Lincoln's Inn. It was during his stay there that he devoted his spare time to writing a treatise on "The Principles of Reason, Theoretical and Practical." This work, which fills a large MS. volume, was never finished, and therefore never published. Some years afterwards the author appended this note by way of postscript : " I preserve this treatise, not because I value it as a result, but because it is a record of my mental progress, and. as such, may have an interest in connection with any work on Metaphysics which I may hereafter publish. Hitherto I am constrained to confess, with cheerful submission to the All-wise, that what I have attained in philosophical power is exile exiguumque, and that such knowledge as I have has been acquired non vi, sed sape cadendo." In regard to this note, it may be observed that Dr. Ingleby always took a very humble view of his own powers, and that his character was almost wholly objective. His own personality never intruded, and though his knowledge extended to an extraordinary range of subjects, it never occurred to him that he knew more than the person with' whom he happened to be conversing. This did not prevent him from wielding a somewhat caustic pen, and it often astonished an antagonist, who had received some severe Memoir. blows on paper, to find him in person one of the most simple and gentle of men. We now quote an extract from Mr. Timmins' kindly memoir, which appeared in " Shakespeariana " for December 1886 : — " On his return to Birmingham, he took his share of the work in his father's office. His ample leisure, so far as health allowed, was devoted to metaphysics as well as mathematics, but he soon began to give special attention to English literature, more especially to dramatic literature and to the works of Shakespeare. His knowledge and love of these brought him into contact with the late Howard Staunton, to whose famous edition of Shakespeare he gave very valuable help. His first Shakespearian paper was read before a literary society in Birmingham in 1850. It was on the ' Neology of Shakespeare,' and was remarkable for its origi- nality and minute criticism — characteristics which distinguish all his later works. The Staunton Shakespeare was a very valuable contribution to dramatic literature, for Staunton had studied the Elizabethan dramatic authors with extraordinary care, and was thus able to produce a very careful text — to elucidate many ' dark passages,' and to offer many unexhausted illustrations of references and allusions from his profound and extensive knowledge of the dramatists of the reigns of Elizabeth and James. The three volumes exerted a most important influence on English literature, and led to a sort of Shakespearian ' revival,' in which text and illustrations threw a flood of light and produced a new race of editors and commentators on Shakespeare's works. "During his residence in Birmingham, Dr. Ingleby took an active part in literary and scientific institutions. He was a member of a debating society from which some of the best speakers of the day have sprung. He was a frequent contributor to a very early series of Local Notes and Queries, and was a member of a remarkable Memoir. 5 little literary society — the " Syncretic Book Club " — established to provide books of a learned, recondite, or heterodox character, which ordinary libraries would not furnish.'' It is only necessary to add to this extract that Dr. Ingleby held the Chair of Logic at the Midland Institute, and delivered lectures on that subject. It was also in connection with that subject that his first published work appeared in 1856, entitled, "Outlines of Theoretical Logic." It was intended as a class-book for students, and though on the whole well received, it contained one or two propositions which called forth much controversy and not a little severe criticism. Though at the time Dr. Ingleby defended in print the position he had taken up, in a private note, subse- quently written, he admits his error, and expresses himself as heartily glad if his mistake should prove a warning to students of Logic. We cannot do better than append here a further extract from Mr. Timmins' Memoir, bearing on a disagreeable controversy in which he participated. "The famous 'Perkins Folio,' discovered by the late J. Payne Collier, and made public in 1859, led to a long and angry contro- versy, in which Dr. Ingleby took an active part. He was a constant visitor to the library of the British Museum, on very friendly terms with the late Sir Frederick Madden, and when the famous folio was deposited at the Museum for inspection, he made a careful study of its pages, and came to the conclusion, not only that the manuscript notes and corrections of the ' Old Corrector ' were modern forgeries, but suspiciously like, if not actually, the work of the ' discoverer ' of the book. This opinion was shared by Sir F. Madden and Mr. N. E. S. A. Hamilton, on the assump- tion that underneath the alleged antique annotations some pencilled words in a modern handwriting were found by careful and micro- Memoir. scopical examination. This sort of evidence appeared on nearly every page, and the conclusion was reached that Mr. J. Payne Collier was the author and forger ; and other similar charges were brought against him, and the fierce fight produced a library of books and pamphlets, which, however, have long since passed out of sight, except to curious explorers of the nooks and corners of Shake- spearian libraries. The controversy was one of the severest of modern times, and would make a remarkable chapter in a new edition of the ' Calamities and quarrels of literary men.' It need not be reopened now, and it may suflBce to say, that while the evidence of absolute modern origin and palpable forgery was overwhelming, it is improbable, if not impossible, that any one of the temperament and careless habits of John Payne Collier would ever have had the desire or the patience to devise and complete so elaborate a series of frauds. "In 1859 Dr. Ingleby published a small thin volume, 'The Shakespeare Fabrications,' and in 1861 'A Complete View of the Shakespeare Controversy,' a large octavo volume, in which he gave the results of many months of patient labour, research, and criti- cism. The volume is necessarily ex parte — a brief for the prose- cution. It is courteous in style but fierce in logic, and the best, and in fact the only, narrative of all the facts. A volume of similar size would be needful to give the ' other side,' and the controversy has died out, for the present at any rate, until further facts, pro or contra, are found." To this extract it is necessary to add, that time has proved Dr. Ingleby to have been absolutely in the right. When Mr. Collier's library was sold, shortly after his death, a transcript in his own handwriting from AUeyn's diary " yielded the proof hitherto lacking that he was personally guilty of actual forgery." Vide the " Dictionary of National Biography," vol. xi. PP- 348-353- Memoir. It was while this controversy was raging that Dr. Ingleby severed his connection with the law. In 1859 his father died, and though during his lifetime Dr. Ingleby conscientiously obeyed his wishes, it was with a sense of relief that he relinquished a vocation which was utterly distasteful to him. But even in a profession which he disliked, and in the practice of which he was never likely to have distinguished himself, he theoretically mastered some of the more special subjects. At the annual pro- vincial meeting of the Metropolitan and Provincial Law Associa- tion, held at Manchester in 1857, he read a paper on " The Evils of the Present System of Bankruptcy Administration," — evils which another more widely-known fellow-townsman was subse- quently called upon to redress. His essay on " Bailments," which secured to him his LL.D. degree, was described as masterly by the Professor of Law. With severance from business came increased literary activity. This was unfortunately diverted into many channels instead of being concentrated on one single sub- ject. Dr. Ingleby had received no immediate pecuniary benefit from his father's death ; he had surrendered a fine business on terms which made a considerable difference in his income ; and he had a wife and four children to provide for. He, therefore, for a time took to that form of writing which paid him best. Essays and articles from his pen on an immense variety of subjects appeared in Once a Week, The Fortnightly Review, The Birmingham Gazette, The Medical Critic and Psychological Journal, The Shilling Magazine, The Englishman's Magazine, The Saturday Review, The Illustrated London News, The Parthenon, The Educational Times, The Messenger of Mathematics, and possibly others of which he kept no record. He wrote for The British Controversialist a valuable series of papers on Coleridge, De Quincey, Francis Bacon, Dr. Morgan, and Sir W. Rowan Hamilton. It is a matter of regret Memoir. that an essay on " Stonehenge," which he had prepared at great pains, was lost in the post ; and a similar catastrophe happened later to a story called "The Library of Death," which he had sent to Blackwood, but which was afterwards recovered. In 1864 he published the first part of the " Introduction to Metaphysics," which he completed in 1869. This raised him to such a high rank among metaphysicians that an enthusiastic admirer published a short biography of him. With his removal from Birmingham, which followed on his giving up business, and with his retirement to a country house within a short distance of London, he was thrown into the con- genial society of men of science and letters. He was elected a member of the Athenaeum Club and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, of which he successively became Foreign Corres- pondent and Vice-President. At the meetings of this institution he was a regular attendant, and occasionally read papers. Pro- bably the only honour which he ever desired, and which was, as it happened, denied him, was the Fellowship of the Royal Society. He was in the habit of receiving regular invitations from succes- sive presidents to attend their meetings, and no man ever obtained more enjoyment from the lectures and the illustrations of new discoveries and inventions there given. He even did good work for the Society, having, at the request of Mr. Spottiswoode, and in conjunction with Mr. Cecil Munro, made a comprehensive report on the Newton Liebnitz papers, upon which the Society made its report to the Berlin Academy. When in 1874 the new Shakespeare Society was founded, he became one of its Vice-Presidents, and among other valuable assistance rendered by him, he edited the Shakespeare Allusion Books. But in 1880 a serious dispute arose in consequence of the language used by its director to one of its most prominent Memoir. members, and one of his most intimate friends. Fifteen of its members, including Dr. Ingleby and other Vice-Presidents, de- cided to ask the Society to express its disapprobation of the language used, and of that style of controversy generally. On the Society declining to do so, they conceived they had no alter- native but to resign, and thus Dr. Ingleby's connection with the Society terminated. But among the honours of his life, perhaps the greatest was his election in 1881 as one of the English honorary members of the famous Weimar Shakespeare Society. He was also one of the life trustees of Shakespeare's birthplace. It was at the time of his greatest pecuniary pressure, wholly removed in 1870 by the death of a relative, that he applied for the post of lectureship at the Polytechnic in succession to Professor Pepper. In spite of handsome testimonials from some of the leading men of the day, he failed to get the appointment ; which, however disappointing to him, was not a source of regret to his friends, who considered that such an onerous post would almost certainly overtax his strength. Returning to Dr. Ingleby's writings, we find that in 1870 he published his book entitled, " The Revival of Philosophy at Cam- bridge." It was his object in this work to examine into the working of the new rtgime which had been for some years established in the university, after the old rkgime had been allowed to die out, and to make suggestions for its material improvement. This was followed by a theoretical discussion of the more important topics embraced by the moral sciences tripos. From this he turned his attention to Shakespeare, and, once fairly drawn into the arena of Shakespearian criticism, he seems to have made that his principal study, almost to the exclusion of other and perhaps still more important work. He had in 1868 published a pamphlet lo Memoir. entitled, "Was Thomas Lodge an Actor?" In 1874 appeared " The Still Lion," enlarged next year into " Shakespeare Her- meneutics," and "The Centurie of Prayse." The latter work involved enormous research, and though no pains were spared to make it complete, a second edition was speedily called for, and appeared in 1879, edited by Miss Toulmin Smith. In 1877 he published the first part of "Shakespeare: the Man and the Book," and the second part in 1881. In 1885 he published a volume entitled, " Shakespeare and the Enclosure of Common Fields at Welcombe," reproducing in autotype a frag- ment of Greene's Diary, in which reference is made to the poet. In 1886 appeared his edition of "Cymbeline," which he intended as a model of what good editing should be. It is needless to say that, like all his work, it is done conscientiously and thoroughly, but it is not free from some small errors, such as incorrect references, the labour of which was almost too great for his failing health. His next play was to have been "A Winter's Tale," for which he had already made copious notes, and Shakespeare scholars will universally regret that his life was not spared to con- tinue and complete the work he had undertaken. In the midst of this work he found time to write a series of essays for Hibernia, a magazine recently started in Dublin, but which did not enjoy a long existence. He was also an early and regular contributor to the columns of Nature, and for many years he contributed interesting notes on a variety of subjects to Notes and Queries. He had also sketched out a number of subjects for essays for which he had collected materials, and which he appears to have intended to publish as a whole. Some of these, " Law and Religion," " Special Providence," " The Relation of Poetry to Music," " Misprints," and " A Comparison between Carlyle's Interview witli the Queen Victoria and Johnson's Interview with Memoir. 1 1 George III.," are more or less complete. Other subjects, such as "Woman's Intellect," "Reading with Profit," "Analogical Use of Mathematics," " Limitation of Pain," " The Thorn in the Flesh," and " Quaserty," do not appear to have been committed to paper. He also published in 1882 a thin volume entitled "The Prouerbes of Syr Oracle Martext," which it is hardly necessary to state were proverbs of his own creation. But though to the public Dr. Ingleby was chiefly known as a Shakespearian critic, it was far otherwise with his own family and friends. The charm of his conversation, his beautiful voice, the simplicity and gentleness of his nature, which enabled him to find as much delight in the companionship of little children as in that of the most learned of his contemporaries — it was this, and not his published works, to which his friends would point as most distinguishing him from others. His extensive knowledge enabled him to say something worth listening to on almost any subject that might be started. He would delight his hearers by singing little ballads of his own composition, unique in themselves, and now lost for ever. Nor was his voice less fitted for a larger sphere. Mr. Timmins writes : " The Tercentenary of Shake- speare's Birth was celebrated in 1864, and Dr. Ingleby took an active part in the Festival at Birmingham. He had, among other accomplishments and graces, a passionate as well as learned knowledge of music, and still more, a voice of exquisite quality and infinite delicacy of expression. At that meeting, as often in private life, he sang some of the Shakespeare songs in a voice so sweet, yet ringing, in a style so faultless and impressive, and with a feeling so deep and sympathetic, that ' aged ears played truant at his words, and younger ears were quite ravished by his brilliant and silvery tones.' " Doubtless those of his contemporaries at the University, who 1 2 Memoir. have outlived him, will remember his singing. He was a familiar figure at the University concerts, together with his friend Dr. Dykes, who usually played his accompaniments. In later years he conducted a Musical Society at Ilford, and from time to time he composed songs, of which five were published. It is a small step from music to poetry, and though Dr. Ingleby would himself have disclaimed any pretensions to being a poet, he had at least considerable powers of versification. In that respect this volume will speak for itself. It must not be supposed that, because Dr. Ingleby published little on the subject of mathematics, he put it on one side on leaving the University. On the contrary, he was continually reverting to it, and especially to that branch of it which comprises the theory of numbers. He was fond of constructing mathematical problems, and in his own branches he frequently corresponded with such men as Professors Sylvester and Smith, the present and late Savilian Professor of Geometry in the University of Oxford. That Dr. Ingleby did not take the very first rank in some of the subjects which he handled was due, partly to ill health, partly to lack of proper education, and partly to what a phrenologist would call his "deficiency in perceptive powers." His "reflective " powers were extraordinary, but (in comparison with these) he was deficient, as he was himself aware, in perception and continuity. Although a first-rate musician, with a perfect ear, he never could overcome his want of training, and was, to the day of his death, unable to read without diificulty a passage of music. An accomplished chess player, he never could .learn to play even a tolerable hand at whist, though fond of the game. A mathematician of no mean order, it was always a labour to him to add up a row of figures. With splendid critical powers of language, to acquire Memoir. , 1 3 a language was to him, to use his own expression, " the labour of the anvil and the mine." This memoir has no pretensions to a biography, or we should feel bound to illustrate Dr. Ingleby's life and work by his letters. These were more than usually interesting; for he kept up a regular correspondence with many of the. leading men of the day in the walks of science, mathematics, and literature. In his library are volumes of original letters from men -of. mark, some of which almost form treatises on the subjects with which they deal. But inasmuch as a man's letters give an impression of his character much more accurate, and much more intimate, than the most carefully drawn delineation, we append a short selection from the few that happen to be within our reach. The first is to his son, who, shortly before his death, wrote to ask him his opinion on Browning. The answer is as complete as a short letter will allow, though scarcely pleasing to the poet's most ardent admirers. "There will always be a sharp difference of opinion as to Browning's merit as a poet. I understand Ms favourite pieces are ' Caliban upon Setebos,' ' A Forgiveness,' ' Saul,' and ' Clive.' Well! I for one find Caliban more than hard reading; and 'A Forgiveness,' though immensely clever, is obscure and deficient in rhythm and melody, without which poetry can scarcely exist. Browning is to me a far greater crux than Carlyle. Judged by Cobbett — who said that speech was an impertinence if it did not clearly express the speaker's meaning — we should have to condemn Browning. This I cannot do, for I know a few things of his that are both intelligible and beautiful. But oh ! ' The Ring and the Book ! ' How is it possible to read that — and heaps of other poems of his 1 " To this he adds a postscript : — 14 Memoir. " Browning is deficient in the mental ear for the beauties of metrical composition. Take such a line as that in Shakespeare (Henry V. i. ii.), ' The singing masons building roofs of gold,' or Wordsworth's (the Yew Trees), ' With sheddings from the pining umbrage tinged.' " Where in Browning can you discover such structure in a line ? His strong lines are harsh and prosaic. Much in 'A Forgiveness ' is to me quite unintelligible. No wonder ! It will not parse — is not English at all." Writing to his friend Mr. Timmins, after referring humorously to the cause of a quarrel between certain of the lovers of Shake- speare who had fallen out among themselves, he goes on : — " Oh ! here's a biographical anecdote for you. As a boy in my teens my father took me to the house of Sir Francis Chantrey — the kindest of men. He took notice of me and said — ' Well, young man ! what are you going to do in life ? ' I replied, ' Do my best, sir.' To which the old sculptor answered, ' Then, let me tell you, you'll have to work devilish hard.' I thought of this when I read in Carlyle's Essay on Sir Walter Scott, ' Is it with ease, or not with ease, that a man shall do his best in any shape ? ' Thomson of King Edward's School, under whom I worked (as I did under Abbott too) for one year before going to Cambridge, told me, for his last words, ' Work hard ? Nonsense ! — -you don't know what hard work is ' : and he was right. But he didn't know that I never was strong enough to stand really hard work. No wonder I never got on or was successful in anything I undertook. But I had this indemnity — I not only did not grudge the success of others, but I took a positive delight in knowing that good work had been done by others — better men Memoir. 1 5 than myself — which I might under happier auspices have done, and which I should have done with the keenest enjoyment.'' The remainder that we give are addressed to his cousin Mrs. Browne, a sister of Professor Beete Jukes. " Valentines, Dec. 9, 1869. " The lines on Death are very good. Modern ears reject such a rhyme as depart, part, but they used to be common. Now we should read ' But I yield not, — Tempter fly ! I stand resigned to live, — or die.' " The date 1848 is curious. I too was in great mental distress at that time, and he wrote me many letters to endeavour to give me strong comfort. His strong example strengthened me, and his break-down and death have knocked away my chief human prop. " It would not do to print the lines, of course. Alas ! for family failings, — inherited tendencies. Well, I've lived many years in contention with my physique, catching but a few struggling beams through the thick mist ; as Heine says so touchingly : — ' Anfangs woll't ich fast verzagen, Und ich glaubt' ich triig' es nie ; Und ich hab' es doch getragen, Aber fragt mich nur nicht wie.' " I render it thus — ' Then methought, almost despairing, I beneath this weight must bow ; But I've borne it, and am bearing, Only — do not ask me how !' " As to ' Saint-adoration,' I see you have a slight vantage in the 1 6 Memoir. Clinamen, which prevails towards the adoption of such compounds. But I don't like the word. " Poor you ! don't be like the old man with his ass — try to please all. Please yourself." " Valentines, Saturday night, 2/19/70. " I don't like coining words ; and, in fact, seldom do coin any. Quite lately in an article for the Fortnightly Review, and which I half expect to see in March No., I did coin two ! i.e., in MS. ; but one I expunged before sending it off — that was ' scare-child ' — a nurse's bogie. It seems a good word ; yet, when I came to test it, it failed. Try the plural : who could bear the sound of scare-childs 1 The other (I forget what it was) I think I retained. " The two words you note (one of which you obelise) are none of mine, nor yet very new words of any one else. Stylish you will find in all new dictionaries ; and it is constantly used. De Quincey, e.g., has it often. Tangential is a mathematical word, with a prescription of thirty or forty years. What is the matter with it ? It is quite as good as existential, essential, experiential, &c. "Shall you see Professor Tomlinson soon? He has been writing on the point ' whether the sun puts the fire out ? ' Only think of his experimenting with a candle 1 No one ever said the sun's light puts a candle out. He has decided that the sun does not put a candle out, or even tend to that result, therefore it does not put a coal fire out. The seguitur is hard to see. " Now I also have been experimenting, and I find that my coal fire has a trick of going out sooner when the sun shines into my room upon the fire than when it does not. At first I fancied it happened on this wise, viz., that the sunshine on the coals made the whole affair so white and so bright that I did not notice when the fire went down — and so let it out ! But that is not the Memoir. 17 reason ; for, in point of fact, the sunshine makes the fire look as if it had gone out when it's all alive ; for the intensity of the solar light makes the coal flame look dull. What, then, is the solution ? It is simply this : I found that this last-mentioned fact being once observed, and the phenomena becoming afterwards familiar, the silvery appearance of my fire, being thenceforth regarded as the cry of the wolf in the fable, I fell into the habit of disregarding it. I said to myself habitually : ' Oh ! it's all right ! the fire's in safe enough, though the sun is upon it.' By that false security the fire went out. So the solution \^ psychological J And observe it only applies to a fire of Newcastle coal — for that only goes out for want of roaking and punching. " I too take in the Academy — or it takes me in. At present, however, it is only on its trial, and if it does not much improve I shall discontinue it. The reviews are very poor ; I honour them nevertheless for their review of Tennyson's pretentious Holy Grailj the only honest review I have seen." "Valentines, Ilford Y..,July 29, 1870. " If my little abortive glance at dear Jean Paul (whom I never think of without love and reverence — and sometimes not without tears — a true soldier of Christ) affected you so much, I think it but right to give you the actual text, or at least an exact transla- tion. I have therefore written it out and enclose it. What may be my position in another life, I dare not make a subject of speculation : I hardly dare hope — but I earnestly wish — that I may to all eternity have the friendship of that man. To him I join Kepler, whose memory I cherish and love, and if I dared add a third (for I am always tempted to make a triad) it should be Mendelssohn. But I believe that Christ has many such soldiers. Memoir. I speak of those I know, and with whom I have unspeakable sympathy. " What a bond of blessed union is a good man ! I should say a good woman, but an evil and adulterating generation rejoices in a certain ' sign,' which represents that respectable commodity without a head ! Talking of heads — why should not the Finsbury murderer have been hanged like Carr the Irishman ? No sinew could have stood the shock of fourteen feet. The event, so horrible in specie facti, set a roomful of people, myself included, into a fit of — laughing ! How mysterious is this human faculty, sometimes lying deeper than the fount of tears." "Valentines, February i6, 1878. " It is unfortunate^ but too late to be helpt — as Emerson says of the Fall — that my wife had, long previous to your letter, made an engagement for me on Wednesday next, which somewhat clashes with the proposal that I should lunch with you on that day. " Things nowadays move on so fast that individuals necessarily drift (I have lost so many friends, and quite lately my dearest friend, whose place can never be supplied, unless by her charming daughter), that I have to think twice before speaking of any one as alive. Though I do very persistently look upon the bright side, and try hard to keep a sense of spiritual things alive in me — it is rather a smouldering (tinder fashion) than a flame with me, I fear — these losses so sadden me ; and I walk among the living as if they were dead already. " We must, however, try to look upon the dead as if they were living; and I see but one stumbling-block in the way, viz., the orthodox doctrine of resurrection, which does great violence to St. Paul, as John Locke perceived : for Locke pointed out that the Memoir. 19 sowing is at conception, not at burial, and that Nature is the soil into which the Humanity is cast. (Excuse this long parenthesis.) The consequence is, that after a long absence one finds not only wrinkles and grey hairs, but a painful estrangement : one's friend has drifted one way, and we another, and we don't understand each other at all : so that it takes many interviews to fix our positions — s'orienter. While I have drifted into Spiritualism, my friend perhaps has been dragged into Materialism. The other day I met two friends at the Athenaeum, both of whom accepted Materialism as inevitable. Both looked on death as annihilation, but they hopelessly differed on one point. G said he was not only resigned, but glad to know that- future beings would use him up. C said he had lost everything, and nothing had been put in its place : he felt the want which the other was unconscious of. Now I could go with neither, and when I very modestly expressed my views, I felt that I was looked upon as entirely behind the times." "Valentines, Ilford, March 6, 1883. " Your fi.c. to hand. I sit corrected — but I don't recollect having seen the name so spelt. Strange to say, the place is not in Lewis' Topographical Dictionary. " Certainly the stars were isolated facts (as you say) to our remote ancestors. All I said was that isolated facts do not lead to science : and these did not. The theory (and science is just true theory and nothing else — see Kant's essay) did not start, so far as I can see, till facts were observed in the light of sagacious hypothesis, framed under exact conditions. It is a big subject, and I cannot treat of it now ; but I do not speak at random. I assert that isolated facts are not only useless, but lead astray from science : and it is thus that many valuable lives have been sacri- ficed by applying to men the indications of V n (I hate to 20 Memoir. write the word) on animals quite differently constituted. One word on this : I received this morning an authentic account of what I am sure you must condemn as strongly as an uncompro- mising anti-V. like myself. The young girls at Girton College are obliged to witness (if not actually to take part in) the most cruel experiments on animals. I would much prefer, to see them spin- ning and weaving, or sewing and samplering, to devoting their minds to this utterly unfeminine pursuit. (I purposely use a word of less severity than my feelings prompt.) But as Smith James used to say, ' God is great ! ' and I dare say very humane persons would applaud where I condemn. " What I said on the highest astronomy would seem like ignorance to outsiders, who at least know of the tremendous work of Adams and Leverrier — so I just add that I had in view simply the theory of perturbations, as it was taught before the discovery of Neptune. Of course the inverse problem which those astronomers solved required quite new and very difficult devices, and the most exhausting calculation (/.«., turning symbols into numbers), but the highest mathematics, so far as I am aware, did not enter into their work. I will give you one little problem in the theory of numbers, put in the most ordinary way. A prime number is one which has no divisor (i.e., without a remainder except I and itself)— thus, 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, &c., are all primes. Now let us consider that wonderful class of numbers which are written with the figure i only, as i, 11, in, 11 11, II I II, &c. Among these 11 is \h& first prime. Now the pro- blem, to find the second prime, has never been solved. Yet it can be proved that there are an indefinitely great number of primes of that form, after 11, which have been examined and found to be composite. Thus in = 3 x 37 mn 41 x 271, &c." Memoir. 2 1 Before concluding this brief Memoir, it will perhaps be not uninteresting if we take a peep at Dr. Ingleby in his private life. In 1 85 1 he had married a daughter of Robert Oakes of Gravesend, who had, owing to her mother's early death, been brought up with an uncle and aunt at Valentines, Ilford, in Essex, which Mr. Timmins describes as "a stately mansion, with a noble lawn and park, a. grand avenue of yew trees and famous gardens.'' To this lovely place Dr. and Mrs. Ingleby repaired with their children in i860. There Dr. Ingleby gradually formed a handsome library. Nothing delighted him more than books, and with them he loved to be surrounded. But no soiled or badly bound copies ever found their way within those pre- cincts. It was a hard and fast rule with him to reject all such ; he even went further, for he rejected all books that were not printed in black ink on white paper. His reasons for this will be found in his essay entitled, " The Externals of Books." But his hobby sometimes entailed considerable trouble, not to say expense, and occasionally not a little amusement. There was one little book for which he had in an unwary moment paid a guinea, but which on examination he found came under the ban. He accordingly sold it at once for a few shillings. But it was a rare book, and one which he much wanted in order to complete the set ; and so for years he kept his eye on the catalogues, till at last he spied a copy of the same work for sale at twenty five shillings. Without a moment's delay he telegraphed for it, but what was his disgust to find, on opening the parcel, his own identical copy returned to him, and in still worse condition than when he had rejected it ! It was particularly characteristic of him that he enjoyed relating a story that told against himself. On one occasion, whether in- tentionally or not, he had been cold-shouldered by some great 22 Memoir. man at the club, and we well remember his good-humoured way of stating the fact without the smallest show of resentment. One day, having business with the then Home Secretary, who had been an old college acquaintance, he commenced by referring to the old days, to which the minister responded, "Let us proceed to the business before us." This story he would often relate with evident enjoyment. On another day he was going to London with a friend, and so immersed was he in conversation, and oblivious to what was going on around him, that he allowed the train to reach the terminus, to stop there some few minutes, and to proceed some way on the return journey, before he became aware of what had happened.' These little stories are but trifles, but like a straw that shows the direction of the wind, they give us a glimpse of character, and no one could hear him tell them without discovering, it might be, a rare sense of humour, or an utter absence of self-consciousness, or some other distinguishing quality. His sense of humour was particularly great, and to the last he was brimming over with fun, allowing himself to be made the subject of a joke, and taking everything in the best part. His children rarely missed the opportunity of playing him some trick on April ist, the discovery of which was enjoyed by him as much as by them. His epigrams were often excellent, and though most of them were impromptu, and not committed to paper, those that remain and appear in this volume are sufiScient to testify to his skill in their construction. It was his daily habit to drive in his dog-cart with his horse, Mab, who seemed to know by instinct when he wished to walk, or when to go fast. He appeared to drive carelessly, with loose rein, as if trusting entirely to his favourite. A hat was an abomina- tion to him, and folks used to wonder as a man with head un- covered flashed by, his thoughts evidently not bent on the road Memoir. 2 3 before him, and his reins lying listlessly on the horse's back. But it was wonderful how ready he was in any emergency, and though for years he drove out almost daily, he never met with any accident. In his own neighbourhood there was scarcely a soul that did not learn to know and love him. Children he would either stop to notice or greet with kindly smile. If he saw a poor woman with a bundle, that woman would probably be found seated beside him, wondering what manner of man had taken compassion upon her. It happened that during one of his drives a boy on the roadside threw a stone at and struck his horse. Momentarily, and not unreasonably angered, he turned round and gave the boy a smart cut with his whip. On his return he found himself confronted with a constable, who informed him that it was his duty to take him into custody for assault. " In that," said Dr. Ingleby, " you will be exceeding your duty, for you did not witness it." " You must, however, come with me," replied the constable. " Very well," said Dr. Ingleby, " I am unable to walk to the police station, but if you will get up behind, I will drive you there." Probably no one was ever before taken into custody in so comfortable a fashion, and the matter ended just as pleasantly, for the Inspector, seeing that the constable had exceeded his duty, declined to enter the charge, and reprimanded the constable. His fondness for children naturally extended itself to animals. He took a great interest in the crusade against Vivisection, and was a frequent attendant at the meetings of the Anti- Vivisection Society. This is what he writes to a friend on the subject: "I have no wish to hide the fact of my being a strenuous Anti-Vivi- sectionist. I am so on purely moral grounds ; and I see no more excuse for torturing an animal in the desire of A to test his hypothesis of inhibition (a technical term in physiology), than in a costermonger's wish to get excessive work out of his donkey. I 24 Memoir, would fine the poor costermonger. I would imprison the physio- logist ; and this in the face of the fact that / love science almost above everything." But he was a philanthropist as well as a zoophilist ; his spare time was limited, but he was a fairly regular attendant at the meetings of the British and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, on the committee of which he sat. We will borrow Mr. Timmins' language for the concluding words of this short Memoir : — " A serious illness greatly weakened him in the months of June and July 1886. He seemed, however, to have recovered and to be likely to reach a green old age. The 19th September he wrote a cheery letter, quite in his old pleasant style; but on the 26th he died — honoured and mourned by all who knew him best and longest. His cheerfulness and courtesy and kindness were extreme. He was a generous opponent, and a frank and candid friend. His manners were gracious, his temper imperturbable, and he met even sarcasm with a smile. He was most patient and careful and conscientious, even over the smallest details. He had a bright and pleasant face, a kindly presence, a hearty laugh. Welcomed alike by children and by older folk, he probably never made an enemy and never lost a friend. Friendships of thirty years were never darkened, even by a passing cloud, and memories of the years that are gone will be ever cherished by all who knew one of the gentlest and kindliest of men." POEMS AND EPIGRAMS. POEMS AND EPIGRAMS. A temple on a hill cannot be hid. Brave hearts that challenged thus the tempest's shock, And built their Church, as Christ their Master did. Upon the rock. Let all men see your light, the Scripture saith. Faithful were they that reared upon this spot The perishable symbol of a faith That changeth not. A perishable symbol — ^toning down The light of heaven by mullion, glass, and splay, Turning to mystic gloom and shadowy frown The smile of day. Then blew the winds of heaven, then beat the storms. And desecrated that men thought divine, Till light stream'd through dilapidated forms Upon the shrine. 'Tis thus the Spirit, as a mighty wind. Shatters the form of every human rite, And through the fracture bursts upon the mind God's holy light. 28 Poems and Epigrams. 2)esi5erium. Dora ! I quafF'd enchanted wine From those cerulean eyes of thine. Each chalice in its crystal dew Mirrors the soul's celestial blue ; And, in the light that plays amid The long dark lashes of its lid, A fount of truth and love is hid. How vapid seem life's dearest pleasures. How poor its most commended treasures, Compared with those that tranquil lie In the fond lustre of thine eye, — As an Aurora streaming bright, With mystic thrill and fitful light. Beneath the dusky brow of night ; Or as the star 'mid darkness born, That sinks in light of golden morn : For I, who see thy face no more. Am happier, freer, than before — Sad for thy absence, Dora ; yet Thy memory silvers o'er regret ; 'Twere only darkness to forget. Refresh'd, not sorrowing, upward still, I -"breast life's steep and cloud-topt hill. Trustful that, whatsoe'er befall. Thy memory will transfigure all ; Autumn Leaves. 29 As sunlight, when the sun has set Behind a fortress dark as jet, Still glorifies its parapet. For aye I bless that presence bright That fill'd my spirit with delight. Like those delicious spots that stand As islands in a sea of sand. Whose streams the Arab's thirst allay, Whose herbage green and flow'rets gay Gladden him on his sultry way. 1866. autumn leaves. 'TwAS evening : the sunbeams streaming thro' a cloud Lengthened the dimpled shadows of the trees : And the clinging drops fell patteringaloud As the sere leaves trembled and rustled in the breeze : And the ground with a leafy litter spread In the blushing light was glowing, " And the trodden leaves were lying under foot, And the Autumn wind was blowing." Suggestions of good deeds springing from within Burgeon into leaf by the perfect will of God ; But the storm of passion, and the scorch of sin. Shatter and shrivel them, and cast them on the sod. And the wake of time is red with sins Foregone and for ever foregoing, " And the trodden leaves are lying under foot And the Autumn wind is blowing." Missing Page Missing Page 32 Poems and Epigrams. Melcome to IRafn. A GUSTY breeze and a pattering rain ! I welcome you back to this isle again — This sunburnt isle That a weary while Has been crying aloud For the blessing of cloud With its quickening burden and grateful shroud : For woods are yellow and grass is brown, And flowers are shrivelled and leaves fall down, And creepers cling to the wall to die. Like fishermen's nets hung up to dry. But the spell is dissolved, and the earth again Is glad with "the sound of abundance of rain." Blow, gusty breezes, from sou'-sou'-west, Give the laden clouds not a moment's rest, But drive and scatter their freighting flood O'er field and garden, orchard and wood ! Fall, pattering, pouring rain, pour quick Down through the gaps in the foliage thick. Where the glints of sunshine are wont to go When they dimple the chequered shadows below ; Patter away On leaf and spray, And spare not a blossom that hangs in the way, Down to the thirsty lips of earth That are cracked with fever and parched with dearth. Sequel to Burns' "A Rosebud by my Early Walk." 33 Beautiful raindrops ! Patter away, Like the feet of happy children at play ; Blow, gusty breeze, on fern and trees, And waken their murmuring minstrelsies. Hark, how they sigh ! and their voice recalls Mountain streams and waterfalls : And now in more tumultuous motion Remembers * the distant roaring ocean. 1863. Sequel to Burns' " H IRosebub bs m^ Earls Malh." At eve I sought beside the corn The rose I marked at early morn ; I sought the rose, but found the thorn + Late on an Autumn's evening. I gazed upon the weeping spray. But found no blossom young and gay ; Below, the shattered rose-leaves lay. All on an Autumn's evening. When lo ! from where the rose-leaves lie Sweet exhalations rise on high, And breathe their perfumes to the sky So late on Autumn's evening. * I.e., calls to mind. "The ditty does remember my drowned father.' Shakespeare. t "SijT-w;' ivpriffas, ou poSov, dXXo ^SiTov," C 34 Poems and Epigrams. So thou, dear Jeany, young and gay, Too soon shall droop and fade away, Thy beauty wither in the day, And perish in the evening. But when thy youth and bloom are fled. Goodness and truth with odorous head Shall thousand sweets around thee shed In life's autumnal evening. XEbe