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MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS 
 
 OF 
 
 JAMES MONTGOMEEY. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
London : 
 
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 New-Street-Square. 
 
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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/cu31924104001643 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS 
 
 OF 
 
 JAMES MONTGOMERY 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE, REMAINS IN PROSE 
 AND VERSE, AND CONVERSATIONS ON VARIOUS 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN HOLLAND AND JAMES EVERETT. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 '' There is a living spirit in the lyre, 
 A breath of music and a suiil of fire ; 
 It speaks a language to the world unknown ; 
 It speaks that language to the bard alone.'' 
 
 World before the Flood. 
 
 LONDON: 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS. 
 
 1854. 
 

 l/VN 
 
 ^ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The Life and Times of James Montgomery present to 
 us materials for one of the most deeply interesting 
 chapters of the social history of this country. For not 
 only was the era in which our author lived one of the 
 most remarkable in the annals of the modern world, 
 but he was, in various ways, identified with some of its 
 leading characteristics. Born nearly thirty years before 
 the close of the last century, he was contemporary with 
 the great and important events which at that period 
 shook Europe to its centre : — what have been significantly 
 called '' The Wars of the French Revolution,'' were 
 consecutively chronicled and commented upon by him, 
 as the editor of a political journal. That signal move- 
 ment of the human mind, which is usually recognised 
 in its still onward progress by the phrase — ^' March of 
 Intellect," was participated and accelerated by him, 
 not only in his newspaper, but as a member of literary, 
 philosophical, and educational institutions. Of that 
 brilliant epoch of English poetry, which, commencing 
 with Cowper, culminated in the appearance of Southey, 
 
 A 3 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 Coleridge, Wordsworth, Byron, Campbell, Rogers, 
 Crabbe, Moore, and Montgomery himself, he was at 
 once the coeval and the exponent : while with the 
 mighty evangelical awakening, in which originated so 
 many Bible, Missionary, Sunday School, and Tract 
 Societies, besides others of a kindred nature, the name 
 and labours of our friend were specially associated : to 
 which must be added, the influence which a character 
 thus moulded and directed by Christian principles, and 
 sweetened by the amenities of literature and poesy, 
 necessarily gave him in the local councils of the good 
 people of Sheffield, among whom he resided. 
 
 It is not intended by these remarks to represent 
 Montgomery as occupying a preeminent position in 
 any one of the proud spheres of interest and influence 
 in question ; for in each were to be found some, and 
 in others several, names that ranked higher than his 
 own : but it is not, perhaps, too much to assert, that 
 in no other individual of his time were these latter 
 elements of the spirit of the age so largely and so 
 homogeneously combined. 
 
 With this conviction, it was almost impossible not 
 to be impressed with the fact, that the biography of 
 such a man, while it involved of necessity a familiar 
 acquaintance with the transactions of the period in 
 which he lived, and also with his own springs of action, 
 demanded, at the same time, some literary and religious 
 qualifications resembling his own. However confessedly 
 slight our claim to the possession of these qualifications, 
 we dare not deem it so slight as to justify us in sacri- 
 ficing to a real or aflected diffidence in our own abili- 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 ties, the gratification of attempting a more faithfully 
 circumstantial, if less artistically composed memoir of 
 Montgomery, than could easily have proceeded from 
 any other quarter. Opportunity and industry have at 
 least not been wanting to the accomplishment of our 
 object. 
 
 In the autumn of 1820, the Rev. James Everett was, 
 by appointment of the Wesleyan Conference, stationed 
 as a preacher at Sheflield, the native place of John 
 Holland. Among other circumstances, a mutual, in 
 truth an enthusiastic, admiration of ^^ the Christian 
 poet," who was their fellow-worshipper, led to an in- 
 timacy which issued in the discovery that each was 
 collecting materials in illustration of the Life of Mont- 
 gomery. A proposal to proceed in concert with this 
 design was subsequently made and accepted. The 
 friends at once united their stores and their efforts ; 
 agreeing that, should either of the parties decease be- 
 fore the completion of their task, the survivor should 
 be entitled to the accumulated materials. This was in 
 1821, at which time it would hardly have been too 
 much to say, that there was not a man in Sheffield, of 
 Montgomery's age and habits, less likely to have been 
 living thirty years afterwards than himself. After re- 
 siding about five years in the town, Mr. Everett was 
 removed, having in the interval largely enjoyed, and, 
 as the following pages will testify, faithfully cultivated 
 the friendship of the poet, between whom, also, and 
 Mr. Holland, at that period, and thenceforward during 
 more than a quarter of a century, an intercourse of the 
 most frank and confidential nature existed, — rarely a 
 
 a4 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 week, and often only a day or two, passing without an 
 interview, when the parties were at home. And here 
 again, during the protracted enjoyment of this prized 
 and privileged friendship, the ultimate design of raising 
 a monument to the memory of the beloved bard was 
 never lost sight of. Indeed, without here adverting to 
 evidence of direct concurrence, to suppose that the poet 
 himself had no suspicion of such design, especially 
 amidst the unguarded conversation of later years, would, 
 be to attribute to him the absence of even an ordinary 
 degree of perspicacity. The biographers have there- 
 fore no ground of apology for either ignorance or haste, 
 — whatever they may have in the peculiarity of their po- 
 sition, — should they have mistaken a merely laudable 
 aim for the ability required to do justice to their sub- 
 ject. 
 
 Such was the relation in which they stood to each 
 other, and to the design of this work, previous to 1849. 
 In that year, Mr. Everett was deprived of his office as 
 a preacher in the Wesleyan body, with which he had 
 been in connection during the greater part of half a 
 century, in consequence of a conscientious resistance 
 to what he, along with thousands of his Methodist 
 brethren, ministers as well as members, considered an 
 act of despotism on the part of the Conference. In 
 the determined stand thus made, and the heroic self- 
 sacrifice in which, as foreseen, it immediately involved 
 Mr. Everett, considered per se^ the sympathies of 
 Mr. Holland and, it must be added, of Montgomery 
 also, were fully and freely extended to their common 
 friend. Not so their concurrence with the particular 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 line of action and tone of appeal which he, with other 
 expelled ministers, thought it right presently to adopt 
 in agitating and dismembering the Connection — conduct 
 which it was admitted the personal provocation, spiritual 
 relations, and honest convictions of the actors, might 
 perhaps sufficiently justify to themselves. 
 
 But, however portentous to the parties concerned, 
 the Methodistic movement alluded to bore a no less 
 perplexing aspect in relation to the authorship of the 
 work now in the reader's hands. For not only had a 
 large portion of the personal religious intercourse of 
 Mr. Holland and Montgomery been enjoyed in Wes- 
 leyan circles, — though neither of them were, at any 
 time, actually members of the Society, — but a consi- 
 derable part, not to say the most conspicuous and 
 useful part, of the public platform labours of the latter, 
 were devoted to the service of various institutions among 
 that people : and of these interesting engagements, 
 records made at the time, and under the immediate 
 feelings of the occasion, must needs very frequently 
 occur in the following pages. Hence, an obvious 
 dilemma. In the event of the publication of the 
 Memoirs of Montgomery as the joint labour of the 
 two persons whose names are on the title-page, and 
 without any such explanation as the present, either 
 Mr. Everett must have appeared in a character 
 strangely inconsistent with that which accidental circum- 
 stances had compelled him to adopt and maintain, — 
 very conscientiously, no doubt, — or else Mr. Holland, 
 differently circumstanced as he was, must have con- 
 sented, at least, to the omission or alteration of much 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 original matter, which, both as illustrative of the zeal 
 and piety of Montgomery himself, and in no way essen- 
 tially affected by the unhappy accidents above alluded 
 to, he could not but more than wish to retain in its 
 integrity ; and, indeed, to enlarge as occurrences might 
 demand. This sentiment was converted into a con- 
 scientious determination, when he received, most un- 
 expectedly, an intimation from Montgomery, that he 
 meant to appoint him executor of his last will ; this 
 trust being connected with antecedent circumstances, 
 which, tacitly at least, implied the poet's recognition of 
 his friend as the fittest individual in whom to confide 
 for the discreet appropriation of his literary remains, 
 and for the faithful history of his protracted life. 
 
 Infiuenced by these considerations, Mr. Everett did 
 not hesitate to meet with entire confidence Mr. Holland's 
 anxious proposal to be allowed exclusively to prepare 
 the work for the press : the latter must, therefore, 
 be regarded as personally responsible for every fact 
 and sentiment in the following pages, not otherwise 
 appropriated, as well as for the selection and arrange- 
 ment of the matter generally : at the same time, it may 
 be proper to remark that, with the exception specifi- 
 cally noted above, the biographers do not entertain 
 any important differences of opinion relative to what 
 is here published in their joint names. 
 
 J. H. 
 
 Sheffield, Sept. 28. 1854. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 1771—1775. 
 
 Page 
 
 Surname of Montgomery. — Parentage and Kindred. — Rev. 
 John Cennick and the Moravians. — John and Mary 
 Montgomery. — Grace Hill. — Birth of the Poet. — Irvine. 
 
 — Early Recollections of the Place. — Alexander Mont- 
 gomery -------1 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 1775—1777. 
 
 History, Doctrines, and Persecutions of the Moravian Church. 
 
 — Comenius. — Zinzendorf. — First Appearance of the 
 Brethren in England. — Their Trials, Conduct, and Recog- 
 nition. — Peculiarities as a Community. — Daily Text Book. 
 
 — Love Feasts. — The Lot. — Missions. — Grace Hill. — 
 Montgomery's earliest Schoolmaster. — Arrives at Ful- 
 neck School. — Departure of his Father and Mother as 
 Missionaries to the West Indies - - ■? - 15 
 
 CHAP. Ill, 
 1777—1779. 
 
 Fulneck, its Establishment and Situation. — Moravian Semi-, 
 nary there. — Religious Services of the Brethren. — Church 
 Festivals. — Montgomery at School. — His personal Pecu- 
 liarities as a Boy. — Earliest poetical Predilections. — 
 Blair's Grave. — Round Poem. — Genius - - 27 
 
Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 1779—1783. 
 
 Page 
 
 First Attempts at Ehyme. — The old Moravian Hymn Book. 
 
 — Prohibited and expurgated Books. — Stolen Perusal of 
 Poetical Works. — Juvenile Birtliday Verses. — Hopeful 
 Boys at School. — Simplicity of Manners there. — Mont- 
 gomery reads Extracts from Burns. — Cowper. — " De- 
 parted Days." — Books and Children. — Notable Visitors at 
 Fulneck. — John Wesley. — De Watteville. — Lord Mon- 
 boddo. — The Holy Kiss 41 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 1783—1788. 
 
 Occasional Contact of the Pupils in Fulneck School with 
 political News. — Apprehension of a Visit from Rioters at 
 the Establishment. — Montgomery's Ode to Solitude. — 
 Other projected and attempted Juvenile Poems. — The 
 World. — Alfred. — Poems on the Last Judgment. — 
 English Hexameters. — Castle of Ignorance. — Native 
 Genius and Education. — Montgomery's invincible Attach- 
 ment to poetical Pursuits. — The Brethren give up the 
 hope of educating him as a Minister. — Molther, the Mo- 
 ravian. — Montgomery placed in a retail Shop at Mirfield. 
 
 — His Fondness for Music - - - - 59 
 
 CHAP. VL 
 
 1788—1790. 
 
 Restlessness of youthful Genius. — Montgomery runs away 
 from Mirfield. — His Ignorance of the World. — Reaches 
 Rotherham. — Interview with Earl Fitzwilliam at Went- 
 worth. — The Village Inn. — Attracts the Attention of a 
 casual Visitor. — Agrees to accept a Situation at Wath. 
 
 — Affecting Interview with his late Master. — Rotherham. 
 
 — Paine's Iron Bridge. — The Village of Wath. — Christen- 
 ing of Lord Milton at Wentworth House. — Mr. Brameld. 
 
 — Mr. Hunt and his Family. — Montgomery's Prayer for 
 Mrs. Hunt. — Goes to London - - - - 75 
 
CONTENTS. Xlil 
 
 Page 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 1789—1790. 
 
 Labours of the Rev. John Montgomery and his Wife at Bar- 
 badoes. — Removal to Tobaero. — Conversation. — Orioiu 
 
 CD O 
 
 and Prospects of the Mission to the West Indies. — Mr. 
 Hamilton. — Return to Barbadoes. — Second Visit to To- 
 bago. — Narrative of Attempts to instruct the Negroes. — 
 Encouraging Indications of Usefulness, — Sources of Trial 
 and Anxiety. — Return to Barbadoes. — Sail again to To- 
 bago. — Mutiny, Conflagrations, and Terror on the Island. 
 
 — Despondency of the Missionaries - - - 88 
 
 CHAP. VIII, 
 1790—1791. 
 
 Montgomery in London. — Situation with Harrison the Book- 
 seller. — MS. of '' The Whiskeriad," and Miscellaneous 
 Poems. — Specimens. — Secluded Habits. — Never entered 
 a Theatre. — Fire at the Albion Mills.— Writes "Chi- 
 mera," a Tale. — Its Publication in Dr. Anderson's " Bee." 
 
 — Halfpenny Books. — Writes a Novel, and an Eastern 
 Tale. — Both declined by Publishers. — Swearing. — An 
 Incident. — Departure from the Metropolis - - 101 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 1790—1791. 
 
 Montgomery returns to his old Situation at Wath. — Recol- 
 lections of London Authors. — DTsraeli. — Huntington 
 S.S. — Poetical Pursuits continued. — Attends the Village 
 Church. — Nancy Wainwright. — Swathe Hall. — Hannah 
 Turner.—* Rural Superstitions. — Independent Chapel. — 
 Mr. Groves. — Dreadful Hurricane in Tobago.- — Suffering 
 of the Missionaries there. — Death of the Poet's Mother. 
 
 — Her dying Testimony. — Her Burial-place. — Death of 
 the Poet's Father In Barbadoes. — His Grave. — Filial 
 Feelings and poetical Tribute - - - - 118 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 1791—1792. 
 
 Montgomery sees and answers an Advertisement of a Situa- 
 tion at Sheffield. — Goes into the Family of Mr. Gales, in 
 that Town. — Accompanies his Master to sell a Library of 
 Books at Ashford. — Implicit Conjfidence in his Integrity.— 
 Roberts. — Barnard, " Poet-Laureate of Sheffield.'' — 
 Mason. — Dibdin. — Tegg. — Galeses at Eckington. — 
 Poet meets with Ebenezer Rhodes. — Politics. — Re- 
 trospect - - - - - - -131 
 
 CHAP. XIL 
 
 1794. 
 
 Political Societies. — Conflict between loyal and demo- 
 cratic Opinions. — Influence of the French Revolution. — 
 Parliamentary Reform. — The Duke of Richmond. — Pitt. 
 
 — Provincial Associations. — The "Patriot." — Brown, 
 the Demagogue. — Muir, Skirving, Gerald, and Margarot. 
 
 — State Trials - - - - - - 154 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 1794. 
 
 Dissemination of Democratic Principles. — Popularity of the 
 '* Sheffield Register." — General Fast. — Montgomery's 
 Hymn sung at a Public Meeting. — Political Assembly on 
 Castle Hill. - — Henry Redhead Yorke. — Montgomery 
 summoned before the Magistrate, Justice Wilkinson. — 
 Report of Committee of Secrecy. — Apprehended Danger 
 to Mr. Gales. — He eludes the Search for him. — Leaves 
 the Country. — Farewell Address to the Readers of the 
 "Register" - - - - - - 163 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 1794. 
 
 Montgomery succeeds to Gales's Printing Establishment. — 
 Enters into Partnership with James Nay lor. — Commences 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 Page 
 the " Iris *' Newspaper. — Poetical Greeting. — Announce- 
 ment of editorial Principles. — The "Enthusiast." — 
 Poetry and Politics. — Trial of Thomas Hardy. — Evi- 
 dence affectincr the Sheffield Patriots. — Protest of Mr. 
 Gales. — Acquittal of Hardy and others celebrated. — 
 Montgomery's Hymn on the Occasion - - - 174 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 1794. 
 
 Critical Situation of Montgomery. — Prints '' A Patriotic 
 Song " for a Street-Hawker. — It is declared to be a 
 " Seditious Libel." — Montgomery arraigned for Trial at 
 the Sheffield Sessions, for printing it. — Traverses the In- 
 dictment to Doncaster. — Verses on Hardy. — Bail. — 
 Remarks in the " Iris." — Letter to Aston. — Address to 
 Mr. Gales. — The Misses Gales - - - - 189 
 
 CHAP. XVL 
 
 1795. 
 
 Trial at Doncaster. — Judges and Counsel. — Speeches on 
 both Sides. — The Jury and their Verdict. — Motion for 
 Arrest of Judgment made and refused. — Sentence. — 
 Montgomery removed to York Castle. — Address to the 
 Public. — Conversations. — Curious Documents illustra- 
 tive of the Prosecution. — Remarks upon them - - 202 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 1795. 
 
 Reformers of 1794 and 1832. — State of Things in Sheffield 
 at the former Period. — Riot in the Streets, and fatal mili- 
 tary Interference. — Account of the Affair in the " Iris." 
 
 Anonymous Slanderer. — Montgomery charged with a 
 
 Libel on Colonel Athorpe. — Letter to Aston. — Hymn 
 on the Foundation of Club Mill. — Closing Year's Address 
 in the "Iris" 232 
 
XVI CONTENTS, 
 
 Page 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 1796. 
 
 Sedition and Treason Bills. — Letter to Aston. — Second 
 Trial at Doncaster. — Sentenced to Fine, and Imprison- 
 ment in York Castle. — Montgomery's Address to the 
 Public. — Letters to Aston and J. P. Smith. — Coleridge 
 visits Sheffield. — Release from Prison. — Letters - 245 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 1796. 
 
 Prison Lessons. — Visit to Scarborough. — Henry Wormall, 
 the Quaker. — Montgomery's Letters to him. — To Mr. 
 Aston and J. P. Smith. — Writes an Address for the 
 Theatre. — " A Tale too True."— Returns to Sheffield. — 
 Addresses the Readers of the " Iris" - - - 267 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 1797. 
 
 Rhyming Bagatelles. — Publication of "Prison Amuse- 
 ments." — MS. Novel. — Dedications. — Felix Vaughan. — 
 Letters to Wormall and Aston, — Extinction of the 
 "Sheffield Courant." — General Infirmary. — Montgo- 
 mery's Hymn and Epilogue. — His Tribute to the Memory 
 of Dr. Browne ------ 282 
 
 CHAP. XXIL 
 
 1798-^1799. 
 
 Voluntary Contributions in support of the War. — Mont- 
 gomery's editorial Independence. — Offends Dr. Browne. 
 
 — Letters to Aston. — " A Thought."— Odd Fellowship. 
 
 — Redhead Yorke at Sheffield. — Paucity of political 
 Comment. — " Remonstrance to Winter." — " Loss of the 
 Locks" ---... 302 
 
 Appendix - - - - - -317 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 i 
 
 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS 
 
 OF 
 
 JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 1771—1775. 
 
 SURNAJVIE OF MONTGOMERY. — PARENTAGE AND KINDRED. — REV. JOHN 
 
 CENNICK AND THE MORAVIANS. JOHN AND MARY MONTGOMERY. 
 
 GRACE HILL. BIRTH OF THE POET. IRVINE. EARLY RECOLLEC- 
 TIONS OF THE PLACE. — ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Montgomery, as a surname, very variously spelled, 
 occurs under circumstances of interest in almost everv 
 period of British History, at least from the Conquest 
 downwards. Whence it was originally derived, may be 
 doubtful * ; but it was gallantly borne by a kinsman of 
 the Duke of Normandy at the battle of Hastings f : it 
 occurs in the list of tenentes in capite^ in Doomsday 
 Book J : it is that of heroes in the rare old ballads of ^^ The 
 
 * Not far from Loretto, in Italy, there is a lofty hill called 
 Monte Gomero^ the ancient " cumerium promontorium ; " it is 
 close to the sea, and has an abbey on its summit. — Eustace, Class. 
 Tour, vol. i. p. 298. 
 
 "j- Roger, fifth Count de Montgomerie, created Earl of Arundel 
 and Shrewsbury. 
 
 t Huo-o de Montgomeri had lands in Staffordshire. 
 VOL. I. B 
 
 , r 
 
2 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Battle of Otterburne/'* and '' Chevy Chase :"t it oc- 
 curs in the early records of the Peerage %^ and Landed 
 Gentry, in reference to different parts of the United 
 Kingdom § : it was enrolled on the side of royalty at 
 
 * " Then was ther a Scottyshe prisoner tayne, 
 
 Sjr Hughe Mongomery was hys name, 
 For soth as I yow say, 
 
 He borowed the Percy home agyne." 
 
 f " An arrow, that a cloth yarde was long, 
 
 To the hard stele halyded he ; 
 A dynt, that was both sad and sore, 
 
 He sat on Sir Hewe Mongon-byrry. 
 The dynt it was both sad and soar. 
 
 That he on Mongon-byrry sete ; 
 The swane feathers that his arrowe bar. 
 
 With his hart blood were wet/' 
 
 J Montgomery, an Englishman, is represented in one of the 
 scenes of Schiller's "Maid of Orleans," as acting a most craven 
 part in the presence of the heroine of the poem — first soliloquising 
 in dread at the sight of the armed damsel in the distance — then 
 falling at her feet and suing for his life — receiving and depre- 
 cating her bitter reproaches — then rushing, sword in hand, upon 
 the woman-warrior, — and finally, falling in the conflict with one, 
 who 
 
 " Born a shepherd maid ; 
 Her hand accustomed to the peaceful crook. 
 And all unused to wield the sword of death." 
 
 As both Sir John Talbot, the first Earl of Shrewsbury, and his 
 son, perished on the field of Patay, and as the German poet does 
 not exactly specify which of them he means, it is doubtful whether 
 he alludes to the valiant and venerable Shakspearian hero, or to his 
 no less gallant son : in either case he is unjustified alike by history 
 or tradition. Southey, who in his " Joan of Arc " has chosen to re- 
 present the younger Talbot as falling by the sword of the heroine, at 
 least does poetical justice to both thesebearers of a formidable name. 
 
 § In an old MS. at Grey Abbey, written about the year 1696, 
 by William Montgomery of that place, we read, " For the honour 
 of the nation in general, let it be known to all, that there is at 
 this day the title of a count or earl of the name in all His Majesty's 
 four kingdoms : viz. Count de Montgomery in France, Earl of 
 
SURNAME OF MONTGOMERY. 3 
 
 the outbreak of the great civil strife of the seventeenth 
 century, in England * : soon after the Restoration, it 
 was notably distinguished both in Irelandf and Scot- 
 land J: with no less credit it is identified with the cause 
 of independence in the history of the American war § : 
 and lastly, — not to mention other instances, — it is im- 
 possible, in this brief prelude to the memoirs of the 
 latest distinguished member of the gens Montgomerie^ 
 to forget what a literary charm is always evoked for the 
 name, in the mention of her who bore it, as ^' Sidney's 
 sister — Pembroke's mother;" or not to remember how 
 early it was entwined with the poetic laurel, in the 
 person of the rough old Scottish author of ^* The Cherrie 
 and the Slae."|| 
 
 From none of these worthies, however, is it in our 
 power satisfactorily to deduce the blood of the individual 
 whose memoirs we are about to write : a lineage without 
 either the adventitious distinction of high rank, or the 
 less envied pride of genealogical antiquity, though not 
 
 Montgomery in England, Earl of Eglintoun in Scotland, and Earl 
 of Mount Alexander in Ireland : the like whereof cannot be truly 
 said, as I believe, of any other surname in all the world." — Burke's 
 Commoners of Great Britain and Ireland^ vol. iv. p. 185. 
 
 * Hugh Montgomery was an officer in the king's army, where 
 he distinguished himself in 1641. 
 
 t George Montgomery was Protestant Bishop of Clogher. 
 
 X Francis and Hugh Montgomery were among the agents ap- 
 pointed for effecting the treaty of union with Scotland in the reign 
 of Queen Anne, the former being president of the commissioners. 
 — Agnes Strickland's Anne, p. 186. 
 
 § General Montgomery fell in December 1775, in the attempt 
 to retake Quebec from the English, soon after the death of Wolfe. 
 It may be mentioned that at least a score places, of more or less 
 importance, in the United States, bear the appellation of "Mont- 
 gomery." 
 
 II Alexander Montgomery, one of the most popular of the old 
 poets of Scotland: he probably died about 1605. 
 
 B 2 
 
4 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 devoid of its own merit*, is all that we can claim for 
 him who, for half a century, has made the name of James 
 Montgomery a fond and familiar expression with the 
 ingenious, the benevolent, and the pious, wherever the 
 English language has carried the precious compositions 
 of the ''' Cliristian Poet." 
 
 As Montgomery believed that his ancestors originally 
 sprung from the vicinity of his own birth-place, there 
 seems nothing very improbable in the supposition that 
 he may have had a common progenitor with that illus- 
 trious branch of the family, who could boast, as he used 
 to say, '^ the reddest blood in Scotland," whose crest 
 and motto f he on one occasion appropriated, and 
 whom he was wont jocularly to call ^' the head of 
 our clan." Eglintoun is a lordship and castle in the 
 county of Ayr, the lords of the name and possession of 
 which at a very early period acquired lands from the 
 community of Irvine : and these possessions have de- 
 scended to the present Earl of Eglintoun, through the 
 marriage of a female ancestor to John Montgomery, a 
 lineal descendant of Roger, the hero of the field of 
 Hastings. We must now turn for awhile to the his- 
 tory of some of the humbler bearers of this honoured 
 name, in the North of Ireland. 
 
 * " My boast is not that I derive my birth 
 
 From loins enthroned, or rulers of the earth ; 
 But higher still my proud pretensions rise — 
 The son of parents pass'd into the skies." — Cowper. 
 I ''• Gardez bien." In allusion to this motto a Scottish poet 
 says : — 
 
 " Eight centuries gather round the crest ! 
 And still 'tis ' guarded well,' 
 Since first Montgomery forward prest, 
 
 Where dauntless Harold fell 
 On Hastings' field, — and earned a name, 
 That rivalled e'en the Conqueror's fame." 
 
 Ayrshire Wreath, 
 
PARENTAGE AND KINDRED. 5 
 
 Of his ancestors, Montgomery himself knew but 
 little. He had heard it said that his great-grandfather 
 ^* was a gentleman/' and had wasted an estate ; and that 
 some of his progenitors, like the members of the noble 
 house whose name he bore, had married Cunninghams. 
 
 Holland: *^ Did you ever know any of your rela- 
 tives of that name ?'' Montgomery : " No ; our relations, 
 when I was a child, were the Spences, the M'Mullins, 
 and the Blackleys, in the neighbourhood of Grace Hill." 
 
 In 1746, John Cennick, who was originally a pious 
 teacher in the Methodist school at Kingswood*, near 
 Bristol, and afterwards a preacher in connexion with 
 both Wesley and Whitfieldj-, having joined the Mora- 
 vians, went over to Ireland, and founded a ^^ settlement " 
 of the Brethren under the designation of ^' Grace 
 Hill," at the village of Ballykennedy, in the parish of 
 Ahoghill, county of Antrim. Among the persons to 
 whom the simple fervent preaching of the missionary 
 — for so he might be called — was rendered instru- 
 mental of a religious change, was John Montgomery, a 
 young man of that parish, born January 22nd, 1734, 
 and engaged, as we believe his father had been, in 
 humble but useful industry, in the same locality. He 
 
 * Near to Kingswood Old School stood for many years, perhaps 
 it stands there yet, a large elm, known as " Cennick's tree,'' be- 
 cause under its shadow the preacher used in his fervid simplicity 
 to address his hearers. More than seventy years afterwards, the 
 Rev. John James Montgomery, the only grandson of the good man 
 named in the next page, was located as a Moravian minister at 
 Kingswood. 
 
 •j- Cennick was a favourite with Whitfield, who thus describes 
 him : " He is a truly great soul ! One of those weak things which 
 God has chosen to confound the strong. Such a hardy worker 
 with his hands, and such a hearty preacher at the same time, I have 
 scarce known. All call him a second Bunyan." — VhiXi^'s Life and 
 Times of Whitfield^ p. 370. It was from an expression in a sermon of 
 Cennick's that the Methodists in Ireland were called " swaddlers." 
 
 B 3 
 
6 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 was received, February 9th, 1757, into communion with 
 the United Brethren at Ballymena, and soon afterwards 
 
 
 MORA.VIAN SETTLEMENT, GRACE HILIj, BALLYMENA, IRELAND, 
 
 became a preacher among them. After visiting York- 
 shire and Germany, under the direction of his relio-ious 
 superiors, he returned to Grace Hill ; and on the 27th 
 of December, 1768, married Mary Blackley*, the 
 daughter of a highly respectable member of the little 
 community there ; whose wife Montgomery remembered 
 
 * Born Oct. 9. 1742, in Ahoghill parish. 
 
JOHN AND MARY MONTGOMERY. 7 
 
 as a grave and serious matron, who was accustomed to 
 perform the office of holding the child at the font when 
 presented to be baptized by a Moravian minister. The 
 issue of this marriage was, 1. Mary, who died August 
 6th, 1771, when eighteen months old; and was ^^ the 
 first grain sown in the Brethren's burial-ground at 
 Ayr." 2. James, the subject of these memoirs. 
 3. Robert, who became a provision dealer at Woolwich; 
 and 4. Ignatius, who ultimately entered the ministry of 
 the Moravian Church. 
 
 The Rev. John Montgomery, having been appointed 
 to the pastoral charge of a small congregation of the 
 United Brethren at Irvine, a seaport in Ayrshire, ^^ the 
 only spot in Scotland where those godly men at first 
 found a footing,"* removed thither with his wife ; and 
 there, in the dwelling-house under the same roof with 
 the little chapel, their eldest son was born November 
 4th, 1771, — the anniversary of the birth, exactly fifty 
 years before, of the Sheffield poet, James Cawthorne.f 
 His nativity probably coincided with the arrival of his 
 parents in Scotland ; for we have heard him say he had 
 ^^ very nearly been an Irishman." J By such apparently 
 slight '^ accidents " does a man sometimes become 
 identified with his native country ! It will be seen from 
 the following reply to an inquiry addressed to the Town 
 Clerk of Irvine, that the old Chapel-house in Halfway 
 Street still exists : — 
 
 * Irvine, Monthly News Letter, Nov. 27. 1846. 
 
 f Chalmers' Poets^ vol. xiv. p. 230. 
 
 \ JByi'on, it will be remembered, boasts (in "Don Juan") of 
 being himself " half a Scot by birth, and bred a whole one." On 
 the other hand. Canning, writing to Sir Walter Scott, when in 
 Ireland in 1825, says, "I rejoice to see that my countrymen (for 
 though I was accidentally born in London, I consider myself an 
 Irishman) have so well known the honour you are paying them." 
 — Life of Scott ^ vol. viii. p. 129. 
 
 B 4 
 
8 
 
 MEMOIRS OP JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 " SlE, 
 
 "Irvine, May 23rd, 1854. 
 
 "I should have answered yours of the 18th sooner, 
 but as I wished to gratify your feelings I delayed till I had 
 made inquiry whether I could find a sketch of the birth- 
 place of our late venerated poet, Mr. James Montgomerie. 
 I now beg to enclose a pen-and-ink sketch of the house in 
 which he was born, and the chapel of which his father was 
 the pastor. They still preserve their primitive appearance, the 
 one end still occupied as a dwelling-house, and the other as 
 a weaver's shop. 
 
 " I am, Sir, 
 /'Your most obedient Servant, 
 
 "Davtd Gray. 
 " John Holland, Esq." 
 
 OJLD CHAPaL-HOaSE IN WHICH M0NTQ0ME:RT was BOKisT, IRVug 
 
 E, ATR3B.1B.E, SCOTLAiND 
 
EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. 9 
 
 Some of the good people of Irvine, justly proud of 
 the poet's reputation, have placed a tablet on the wall, 
 to remind visitors in ^^ the Land of Burns,'' of the 
 genius and the worth of a countryman, whose merits it 
 would perhaps be ungracious to contrast, but whose 
 name and reputation it is obvious here to associate, with 
 those of the '^ Ayrshire Ploughman." * 
 
 Gait, who was a native of Irvine, has recorded, in his 
 ^^ Autobiography," some infantile reminiscences of his 
 mother's house: on reading these, Montgomery said 
 that he, too, remembered some things in connexion 
 with his mother's house there, quite as early in life. 
 
 " The moment of his birth 
 None can remember, — none 
 Recal his earliest glance from earth 
 Up to yon glorious sun : 
 Nor trace that point of memory^ 
 When infant thought began to be. 
 
 " Unknowing when, how, where, 
 Whence come, or whither bound, 
 A breather of the common air, 
 Himself unsought, the found, 
 A frame in which, as sprung from nought. 
 The miracle of life was wrought. 
 
 " Thence, by an impulse strange. 
 Without his choice or will, 
 From step to step, and change to change. 
 On is he carried still, 
 Nor of the future can forecast 
 One moment certain, — save the last. 
 
 * Burns was at this time about twelve years of age, and, if he 
 had left Murdoch's school at Ayr, was reciting, on his father's 
 farm, within a dozen miles of Montgomery's birth-place, those 
 songs and tales of old Jenny Wilson which, with the moralising 
 ballads sung by his mother, doubtless became the first germs of 
 his own poetical fancies. 
 
10 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 " The day, month, year unknown, 
 In which concealed it lies, 
 Like a March-meteor, dim and lone, 
 Which as he follows flies. 
 Yet seems to stand, — it lures him on. 
 Comes with a breath, — and lo ! 'tis gone." 
 
 Fragment^ ex MS. 
 
 One of the biographers having furnished an illustra- 
 tion of the Scripture phrase, *^ thy speech bewrayeth 
 thee," Montgomery said, in a half-interrogative, half- 
 affirmative manner, ^^ You are nearly Scotch, Mr. 
 Everett ; " the latter replied, ^* I was only just saved 
 from being a Scotchman." Montgomery : ^'\ was born 
 in Scotland, and barely escaped being an Irishman." 
 Everett : '^ In all probability, you passed through Aln- 
 wick, the town where I was born, on your route to 
 England." Montgomery : *' No ; I left Scotland, when 
 I was better than four years of age, and went into 
 Ireland with my parents, where I remained till I was 
 six." Everett : ^' Do you recollect anything of either 
 place, at that early age?" Montgomery: ^'Yes; but 
 my recollections are, of course, those of childhood." 
 
 We were not a little amused with these early re- 
 collections, over some of which he himself laughed 
 heartily when relating them. '^ When at Irvine," 
 said he, *^ I remember being remarkably struck with 
 the full moon rising over the hills, and especially 
 wdth her red appearance ; and on another occasion, 
 when she was in the form of a crescent, at a consi- 
 derable height, only a few days old. — There was, on 
 one occasion, a great flood in the river, which did 
 considerable damage to property, and powerfully im- 
 pressed me, while I saw its waters rolling onward to 
 the ocean. — Inanimate nature was not the only thing 
 that attracted my attention. On King George's birth- 
 
EARLY RECOLLECTIONS- 11 
 
 day, the people threw open their windows, while the 
 soldiers fired over the houses : this produced a martial 
 spirit; I got my little drum, and resolved to be a 
 soldier. — I was early a dreamer, and had my dreams 
 by night as well as by day. In one of the former, I 
 fancied myself pursued by a herd of cattle ; I awoke in 
 terror, and carried about me a dread of such an occur- 
 rence ever afterwards. — But one thing, which above all 
 others affected me at that early period, was a small 
 image or figure something like Punch. I had wandered 
 from home, and came to a part of the town where 
 another street crossed the one along which I was walk- 
 ing. On casually turning my eye upward towards a 
 window in one of the corner houses, there I saw the 
 automaton clapping his hands, and making the street 
 ring again with the noise : a look was sufficient — 1 
 turned round — ran home — told my father and mother 
 what I had seen ; — and whenever I acted improperly I 
 was sure to be threatened with the little fellow, which 
 always eflectually silenced me, and kept his clappers 
 alive in my ears — a noise which I seem to hear at this 
 day.'' * At the top of the steps leading to the Tolbooth, 
 there are two large balls, or knobs of stone — one on 
 each hand: these somewhat striking f objects had so 
 far attracted Montgomery's infantile attention, that he 
 perfectly recollected them when, late in life, he re- 
 visited, for the first and only time, the place of his 
 nativity. 
 
 * Rabelais mentions the Maschrouste^ an image whose jaws 
 made a terrible rattle, and which used to be carried about in fairs 
 on the continent. — Rab. vol. iv. b. iv. ch. lix. 
 
 t Literally " striking," if a somewhat poor pun may be tolerated, 
 for our friend distinctly remembered the reply of some Irvine 
 dame to his childish inquiry, *' what were those large balls placed 
 there for ? "— " The heads of culprits are knocked against them 
 when taken to prison ! " 
 
12 MEMOmS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 The little town of Irvine became distinguished 
 during the troubles of the Scotch Kirk in the seven- 
 teenth century, in connexion with the attractive preach- 
 ing and determined protest of its then minister, the 
 celebrated David Dickson, successively theological pro- 
 fessor in the universities of Glasgow and Edinburgh : 
 and still further, as participating in that memorable 
 religious movement, usually called, from an adjacent 
 parish, the ^^ Stewarton Revival," 1625 — 30; and in 
 which the zealous and able minister above-named took 
 an active part. It may be added, that Montgomery 
 was delighted when, in 1828, he accidentally discovered 
 that his ancient and godly townsman was the author of 
 a series of stanzas, from which, by various transmuta- 
 tions through different hands, has been derived one of 
 the most beautiful hymns in our language, ^^Jeru- 
 salem, my happy home,'' &c. * Another minister of 
 Irvine, one hundred and fifty years afterwards, identi- 
 fied the town with a movement of a widely different 
 character ; — we refer to Mr, White, the first con- 
 spicuous adherent of the notorious Elspeth Buchan, 
 who in 1783 promulgated a set of blasphemous reveries 
 analogous to those afterwards put forth by Johanna 
 Southcote and her followers. The Buchanites existed 
 many years — White having, we believe, transplanted 
 a small branch of the sect with himself to America. 
 
 We have already mentioned Montgomery's poetical 
 namesake of the seventeenth century : he, too, is one of 
 whom the people of Ayrshire may, in some respects, 
 justly be proud. On the announcement of an edition of 
 the old Scotchman's poems in 1821, we asked our friend 
 whether he was acquainted with them? ^^Yes,'' said 
 he, ^* they have often been reprinted. The first know- 
 
 * Christian Poet, 3rd edit- p. 204. 
 
ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY. 13 
 
 ledge I had of Alexander Montgomery was on seeing a 
 notice of his Poems in an old catalogue, when I was a 
 boy : I was delighted to find that there was a poet of 
 my own name, and would at that time almost have 
 given a finger to possess his works. Dr. David Irving 
 kindly sent me a copy of his elegant edition of the 
 poet'*, which is at your service. There are several 
 elegant little pieces in the volume." Not having read 
 the Poems before, on returning them, a degree of sur- 
 prise and pleasure was expressed, on having found that 
 the old bard was born in the same shire with himself. 
 Montgoynery : " The Montgomerys are a powerful clan 
 in Ayrshire." Everett: '^ There is some very offensive 
 language employed in Polwart and Montgomerie's ' Flyt- 
 ing ; ' and yet the latter composed many religious 
 pieces." Montgomery : '' The truth is, we are neither 
 so pious nor so wicked as they were in that age ; there 
 is certainly a strong mixture of the profane and the 
 devout in his works. The very first piece I opened 
 upon was his ^ Fly ting,' and it was some time before 1 
 could understand what he meant, from the language. 
 You have to pay great attention, too, to get the ear pro- 
 perly tuned to his measure." Everett: "I was much 
 amused with the etymology of your name, in the last 
 stanza of Polwart's ^ Third Flyting against Mont- 
 gomerie ' : — 
 
 ' Whose origine noble, the note of his name, 
 Cal'd Etimologie, beires rightlie record : 
 His surname doth flow fra two terms of diffame, — 
 From Mo7it and Gomora^ where devils, be the Lord, 
 
 * On the blank leaf, preceding the title page, the Doctor wrote 
 '' To James Montgomery, Esq., author of ' The World before the 
 Flood,' &c. ; as a mark of the Editor's respect for his character as 
 a Poet. Edin. July, 1821." 
 
14 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY- 
 
 His kinsmen, was cleinlie cast out ; to his shame. 
 That is of their clane, whom Christ hath abhor de ; 
 And beiris of the birth-place their horrible name, 
 Where Sodomite sinners with stinking were smor'd. 
 
 " Now sen all is suith that's said of this smy, 
 Vnto that capped clarke. 
 And prettie piece of warke, 
 That bitterlie doth barke ; 
 I may thus reply.'" (p. 126.) 
 
15 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 1775—1777. 
 
 HISTORY, DOCTRINES, AND PERSECUTIONS OF THE MORAVIAN CHURCH. — 
 COMENIUS. — ZINZENDORF. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF THE BRETHREN IN 
 ENGLAND. THEIR TRIALS, CONDUCT, AND RECOGNITION. — PECU- 
 LIARITIES AS A COMMUNITY. — DAILY TEXT BOOK. — LOVE FEASTS. 
 
 THE LOT. MISSIONS. GRACE HILL. MONTGOMERY'S EARLIEST 
 
 SCHOOLMASTER. — ARRIVES AT FULNECK SCHOOL. DEPARTURE OF 
 
 HIS FATHER AND MOTHER AS MISSIONARIES TO THE WEST INDIES. 
 
 The history of the United Brethren, Herrnhuters, 
 Moravians, Bohemians, or Germans — for by all these 
 appellations have the community been designated — 
 forms a very striking episode in the earlier chronicles of 
 the Christian Church. It exhibits, indeed, the sublime 
 spectacle of a little flock, or rather scattered groups, of 
 the true followers of their Saviour, witnessing a good 
 confession for His name's sake, amidst the prevalent 
 errors of Popery, or the persecution of ungodly rulers ; 
 and submitting to ignominy, spoliation, and martyrdom, 
 long before the name of Protestant had been given to 
 that great and glorious band of heroic confessors with 
 whom we are now so gratefully familiar. 
 
 Originally descended from the Slavonian branch of 
 the Greek Church, the Moravian Brethren never im- 
 plicitly submitted to the authority of the Pope, though 
 their Princes, from the year 967, adhered to the Roman 
 Communion ; but they resolutely retained the Bible in 
 their hands, and performed their Church service accord- 
 
16 MEMOIRS OP JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 ing to the ritual of their fathers, and in their mother 
 tongue. For these heresies, as they were deemed, they 
 were persecuted without mercy, and almost without inter- 
 mission; many were punished with death, more with 
 the spoiling of their goods, and multitudes with im- 
 prisonment and exile. In their sufferings were literally 
 exemplified the declarations of the apostles concerning 
 the ancient worthies, ^^ they had trials of cruel mocMngs 
 and scourgings^ yea^ moreover^ of bonds and imprison- 
 ment ; they were stoned^ were tempted^ were slain 
 hy the sivord; being destitute y afflicted^ tormented (of 
 whom the world was not worthy^ ; they ivandered in 
 deserts y and in mountains ^ and in dens and caves of the 
 earthP Among these confessors and martyrs, in the 
 fourteenth century, appeared John Huss, who was con- 
 demned to the flames as an heretic. During the war 
 that ensued after his death, the Church of the United 
 Brethren, under its present name, was formed by those 
 who chose rather to suffer as witnesses of the truth, 
 than to defend the truth by weapons of worldly warfare. 
 A bloody decree was issued against them, at the Diet in 
 1468, and commanded to be read from all the pulpits in 
 the land. The prisons in Bohemia were crowded with 
 the members of their Church, and their first Bishop, 
 Michael, remained in close confinement until the death 
 of the king Podiebrad. Many perished in deep dun- 
 geons with hunger ; others were inhumanly tortured. 
 The remainder fled to the thickest forests, where, 
 fearing to be betrayed in the day-time, they kindled 
 their fires only at night, round which they spent their 
 hours in reading the Scriptures, and in prayer. When 
 they afterwards obtained some respite from persecution, 
 they were the first people who employed the newly- 
 invented art of printing for the publication of the 
 Bible in a living tongue, and three editions of the 
 
COMENIUS. 17 
 
 Bohemia7i Scriptures toe re issued hy them before the 
 Reform atio7i. 
 
 When Luther, Melancthon, Bucer, and Calvin at 
 length arose to testify more successfully than they had 
 been able to do, against the errors and usurpations of 
 the Church of Rome, to each of these illustrious men 
 the Brethren submitted their doctrinal tenets, their 
 Church discipline, and the records of their affairs, and 
 from each, in return, they received assurances of cordial 
 approbation and the kindest encouragement. 
 
 But as the Reformation did not penetrate into the 
 recesses of Bohemia and Moravia, they had to suffer 
 renew^ed and aggravated persecution, till, tow^ards the 
 close of the l7th century, they vv^ere so broken up, 
 hunted dow^n, and scattered abroad, that they ceased to 
 be known publicly as an existing Church. Their devo- 
 tions at the peril of life and liberty, were performed by 
 stealth, in private dwellings, in deep forests, and lonely 
 caverns, a few only daring to assemble in one place, and 
 at one time. Previous to this dispersion, their bishop, 
 John Amos Comenius, one of the most distinguished 
 scholars of that age, published a History of the Brethren, 
 with a dedication (which he called his last will and 
 testament) to the Church of England^ bequeathing to it 
 the memorials of his people, in the following affecting 
 terms: — ^^ If, by the grace of God, there hath been 
 found in us (as wdse and godly men have sometimes 
 thought) anything true, anything honest, anything 
 just, anything pure, anything lovely and of good 
 report ; if any virtue and any praise, care must be 
 taken that it may not die with us when we die ; and, at 
 least, that the very foundations of our Church be not 
 buried under its present ruins, so that generations to 
 come may not know where to look for them. And 
 
 VOL. I. C 
 
18 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 indeed, tlils care Is taken^ and provision is made on this 
 behalf, by this our trust committed to your hands." 
 
 Sixty years afterwards, the Church of the Brethren 
 was raised, as it were, from the dead, by a persecution 
 intended to crush its last remnant in Moravia. Some 
 families flying from thence, found refuge on the estates 
 of Count Zinzendorf in Lusatia, where they built a 
 church and a humble village, calling it Herrnhut, a 
 German compound signifying " The Lord's Watch,"* 
 This is now the principal settlement of the Brethren in 
 Europe. As their countrymen^ together with some 
 pious people from other quarters, joined them, their 
 congregations gradually multiplied through Germany, 
 and a few were established in Denmark, Sweden^ Russia, 
 Holland, and North America. 
 
 The Brethren first appeared in England about the 
 middle of the last century, when presently the most 
 malignant slanders were circulated against themf ; but 
 
 * A recent and candid account of Herrnliut, " one of the most 
 interesting places which the student of human nature will find in 
 all Germany,'' occurs in Gleig's *' Germany, Bohemia, and 
 Hungary visited in 1837," vol. ii. p. 213. (Vide also Spangen° 
 berg's " Life of Count Zinzendorf," Walker's translation.) 
 
 f The most formidable of these popular accusations charged 
 the Brethren with a secret inclination to Poperv ; parties ground- 
 ing their suspicions, or at least affecting to do so, upon the fact 
 that some single men lived together in one house, and some slnMe 
 women in another, which, in the opinion of ignorant people, bore a 
 resemblance to Bomish convents. They were likewise reproached 
 with being foreigners. To allay the excitement which existed on 
 these topics in 1780, the Bev. George Traneker, at that time the 
 minister at Fulneck, and afterwards one of the Moravian bishops 
 
 issued a printed address to the public, In which he says : 
 
 "In the first place, it is well known, that by fiir not all the 
 single men and single women, who belong to the Brethren's 
 congregation, live in this manner in separate houses, but only such 
 of them who make it, for the present, their particular choice, for 
 
THE BRETHREN APPEAL TO PARLIAMENT. 19 
 
 in the simplicity of conscious innocence, and shrinking 
 from no scrutiny, they laid their case before Parliament. 
 Their doctrines, discipline, character, and history, were 
 scrupulously examined in committees of both Houses ; 
 and two bills, exempting them from taking oaths and 
 
 the sake of having the company of people of their own condi- 
 tion. — And, 
 
 '' Secondly, those, who live together in this manner, are con- 
 stantly at perfect liberty, in an orderly way, to go in and out of 
 their respective houses (the doors being open all the day), or 
 even to leave their present habitations entirely, and to go and 
 live somewhere else, if they choose it ; and they may likewise 
 marry, and a great many of them are from time to time married. 
 — And, 
 
 '' Thirdly, all of them, from the time of their coming to live in 
 any of these houses, to the time of their leaving it again, have and 
 enjoy all that is their own, and whatever they may get or earn, 
 with the free and entire disposal of it, and live, like all other 
 orderly families, from their own income or earnings, without the 
 most distant notion of any such thing as community of goods, 
 which has no existence among the Brethren. 
 
 " Whoever knows the Brethren, must also know, that the 
 essentials of religion take up so much of their serious attention, 
 that to lay any religious stress upon this or that mode of dressing, 
 if it be but consistent with Christian modesty and decorum, would 
 be to them an absurdity, of which they cannot easily be guilty." 
 
 After formally averring the dislike of the Brethren to Popish 
 tenets and practices, and asserting their primitive Protestantism, 
 Mr. Traneker adds : — 
 
 " As to the members of the Brethren's conOTeixation in Fulneck, 
 they are, like all the rest of the Brethren in the British dominions, 
 his Britannic Majesty's very loyal and faithful Protestant subjects; 
 and but very few of them are foreigners, and not one of these 
 carries on, or even serves as a journeyman in any of the staple-ma- 
 nufactures of this country ; and these few persons are Lutherans, 
 so denominated from Dr. Martin Luther, the first venerable 
 reformer in Germany, whose confession of faith is the well-known 
 Protestant Augsburg Confession, which is fully received by the 
 Cliurch of the Brethren, and is one and the same thing in sub- 
 stance with the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England." 
 
 C 2 
 
20 MEMOIRS OF JzVMES MONTGOMERY, 
 
 bearing arms*, were carried with the unanimous con- 
 sent of the Bishops, f Indeed, all opposition was 
 abandoned after the final investigation of their claims ; 
 and they were fully acknowledged by the British Legis- 
 lature to be an ancient Protestant Episcopal Church, 
 which had been countenanced and believed by the 
 Kings of England, his Majesty's predecessorSo The 
 Brethren have at present congregations in England, 
 Scotland, and Ireland. 
 
 The leading theological tenets of the Moravians are 
 comprised in the ancient Confession of Jugshurg^ attri- 
 buted to Melancthon. On the whole, in their creed ;j;, 
 
 * Act 20 Geo. II. cap. 44. 1747; 22 Geo. II. cap. 30. 1749; 
 and 43 Geo. III. cap. 120. 1803. "The Brethren s Church," said 
 Montgomery on a particular occasion, " was always a Peace Society^ 
 according to the petition in her Litany — 'Let us find with men 
 that peace which we have with Thee, and with the rest of thy 
 creatures.' " It is remarkable, also, that in a collect of six clauses 
 '* to be prayed in thne of war," there is no petition for "victory" — 
 no allusion to the " success of our arms" against the enemy; yet 
 have the Moravians ever been emphatically a loyal and orderly 
 people. Their oldest English service book not only contains a 
 prayer to the effect that their " dear Lord and God " would " watch 
 graciously over emperors, kings, and princes" generally; but that 
 he would especially "pour down his blessings in a plentiful manner 
 upon our gracious sovereign," as well as " guide and keep all our 
 dear mai2:istrates." 
 
 "I" See a Congratulatory Letter from Archbishop Pottar to 
 Isicholas Lewis, one of the Moravian bishops, on his consecration, 
 which will be found in the preface to Crantz's " History of the 
 Brethren." Letters patent for the relief of tfhis Church Vv^ere issued 
 by Charles II. under the recommendation of Archbishop Bancroft 
 and Bishop Compton, and by George I. under that of Archbishop 
 AVake. 
 
 X Speaking on one occasion (in 1840) of the articles of belief 
 of certain Churches, Montgomery said he considered the creed of 
 the Brethren, which was introduced in the Easter service of the 
 congregations, the most scriptural, the most comprehensive, and at 
 the same time the most intelligible of any which he had ever seen. 
 He did not recollect where, when, or by whom it was composed. 
 
THE PAILY TEXT BOOK, 21 
 
 sacraments, and clerical order, they much resemble the 
 Church of England; from whichj however, in other 
 respects they differ widely. But we hear less of their 
 doctrinal peculiarities ^ than of their practical piety. 
 Presided over by a bishop or other minister, they 
 mostly live together in isolated communities. These 
 *^ Settlements/' as they are called, and which usually 
 comprise a chapel, grave-ground, schools, dwellings for 
 the married members, and houses for ^^ Single Brethren" 
 and '^ Single Sisters '' — Bruder-Haus^ Schwester-IIaus^ 
 and Prediger-HaiLs (Germ.), are not only amenable to 
 a ruling Synod in Germany, but the religious sympa- 
 thies of the whole body in every part of the world are 
 made to vibrate in unison by means of ^^watch-words" 
 in the '' Text Book," a small volume published 
 annually, and containing, besides rubrics indicative of 
 the ordinary Christian festivals, and notices of special 
 commemoration services for great events in the history 
 of the Brethren's Church, verses of Scriptui^e and of 
 hymns for every day in the year.f 
 
 All the members of the Fraternity are, for the con« 
 
 * A very remarkable — not to say unprecedented — instance of 
 the abandonment of an important difference on doctrinal points 
 between two parties in the Brethren's Church is on record, and is an* 
 nually commemorated in the congregations on the 13th of August, 
 In 1827, Montgomery wrote a ''Centenary Ode for the memorial day 
 of the union of all hearts and minds in the congregation of the 
 United Brethren at Herrnhut, among whom, since their revival 
 five years previously, considerable differences had prevailed on 
 minor points, which were all blessedly reconciled at the Holy Sa- 
 crament in the parish church of Bethelsdorf, in 1727." The stanzas 
 are printed in '• Original Hymns : '' — 
 
 " The God of our forefathers praise. 
 Thou Brethren's couOTeixation ! " &c. 
 
 + The Religious Tract Society has for several years past 
 published an Almanac, w^ith texts of Scripture, on the plan of the 
 calendar of " Daily Words '' in use among the Moravians. 
 
 C 3 
 
22 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 vejiience of order, discipline, and edification, arranged in 
 bands, or ^^ choirs," as they are called, according to the 
 following prayer in their Litany : — 
 
 '' Bring and keep all our choirs in true discipline 
 and holiness. Bless the holy matrimony. Let our 
 little ones grow up in the nurture and admonition of 
 Thee. Keep the single Brethren and Sisters chaste, 
 both in body and spirit. Remain the hope of the 
 widows." — Litany. 
 
 Love-feasts, derived from the Agapce of the primitive 
 Church, and well known among the modern Methodists, 
 have always been kept by the Moravians. There is one 
 peculiarity which distinguishes the Moravian Christians 
 from all others in the modus operandi of their Church 
 government, and one which it would, perhaps, be the 
 most difficult to approve or defend — namely, an appeal 
 to the lot^ and that in matters the most important, 
 including even the taking of wives by the Brethren. 
 We believe, however, that this species of sortilege, to 
 which indeed religious persons of other denominations 
 have occasionally resorted, has nearly, if not altogether, 
 ceased in practice. 
 
 The Moravians were the first among the Reformed 
 Churches to send missionaries to the heathen, among 
 whom they have laboured since 1732, when the refugees 
 on Count Zinzendorf's estates scarcely amounted to 
 600 persons — that is, in about eight or nine years after 
 they had begun their settlement, they had sent mis- 
 sionaries to Greenland, to the Indians in North and 
 South America, to many of the West India Islands, to 
 Lapland, to Algiers, to Guinea, to the Cape of Good 
 Hope, to Ceylon, and subsequently to Tartary;-to 
 the Nicobar Islands, to Persia, and to Egypt. Of the 
 success, vicissitudes^ or failure of these missions respec- 
 tively, we need not speak here ; suffice it to say that 
 
MISSIONS, 23 
 
 more devoted, disinterested, self-sacrificing, and single- 
 minded Christian labourers, never went forth on this 
 evangelical enterprise. Latterly, almost every denomi- 
 nation of Christians has more or less emulated the 
 Brethren in holy zeal for the conversion of tho 
 world ; and, like them, they have ^' received seals to 
 their ministry, and souls for their hire;" but none, 
 like these modern apostles, have been found willing, 
 or have found it necessary to go forth solitarily, unpro- 
 vided with secular aid ; taking with them only that 
 primitive equipment v/hich their Lord and Master speci- 
 fied when ^^ He called unto Him the twelve, and beo^an 
 to send them forth by two and two ; and gave them 
 power over unclean spirits, and commanded them that 
 they should take nothing for their journey, save a staff 
 only ; no scrip, no bread, no money in their purse ; but 
 be shod with sandals, and not put on two coats." * 
 
 * St. Mark vi. 7. In this age of missionary activity, as well 
 among Churchmen as Dissenters, the former must often feel the 
 want of some direct petition on the subject in their beautiful 
 llturgic service. The old " Church Litany of the Brethren " con- 
 tains the following clauses : — 
 
 " Keep our doors open among the heathen, and open those 
 that are still shut. 
 
 " Do not leave those heathen desolate^ from whom we are 
 driven away. 
 
 *' Have mercy on the negroes, savages, slaves, and gipsies.'* 
 
 In the Litany, as printed with the Hymn-book of 1754, the 
 first petition stands as above ; the second is omitted ; and '• gipsies '* 
 is dropped from the third. In later editions the missionary prayer 
 is thus modified ; — 
 
 " Prosper the endeavours of all thy servants to spread the 
 Gospel among heathen nations. 
 
 " Bless our congregations gathere d from the Negroes, Green- 
 landers, Indians, Hottentots, and Esquimaux: keep them as the 
 apple of thine eye." In the last revision of the Litany, the five 
 denominations of converts specifically mentioned above were^ 
 somewhat to the rei^ret of Montgomery, omitted altogether. 
 
 c 4 
 
24 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 These prominent features of Montgomery's mother 
 Church are more particularly indicated here^ because, 
 as we shall find, they produced a decided effect upon 
 the poet's early life and after character ; and doubtless, 
 through him, upon other religious communities. 
 
 John and Mary Montgomery remained at Irvine 
 until their second son, Robert, was born, when they 
 returned to Grace Hill, and here James received the 
 earliest rudiments of education beyond his mother's 
 affectionate teaching, from ^' Jemmy M'Caffery," the 
 village schoolmaster ; the Moravians not having at 
 that time any seminary at Grace Hill. Opposite to 
 the settlement stands Gilgoram Castle, less hidden by 
 trees at that time than it is now, and within whose 
 walls a detachment of military was stationed in the 
 childhood of Montgomery. As the castle and the 
 soldiers — the latter especially — were among the most 
 interesting objects to the eye; so the band of music to 
 w^hich he often listened was, as might be expected, the 
 most enchanting to the ear of the child. It was at this 
 time that the trees which now flourish around Grace 
 Hill, were planted, in which work his father, with the 
 other Brethren, assisted. While standing by his father 
 one day, he recollected him turning up a coin with the 
 soil, which excited some interest ; but of what reign or 
 state it was, he never learnt. Such an incident would 
 perhaps have made an antiquary of one differently 
 constituted, but Montgomery w^as destined more par- 
 ticularly to be wrought upon by music and by song. 
 
 James being now between six and seven years of age, 
 it was determined to send him to school in Eno^land. 
 He accordingly took a child's farewell of his mother, 
 wdio had on her lap his infant brother Ignatius, who was 
 also born at Grace Hill, and then embarked with his 
 father for Liverpool, where they landed in safety, thouoh 
 
AKPaVAL AT rUL:NECK SCHOOL 25 
 
 not without experiencing some danger while at sea. 
 After a very brief sojourn at Duckenfield^ father and 
 son proceeded to Fuhieck, near Leeds, in Yorkshire, 
 where they arrived October 16. 1777, — a day and month 
 memorable as those on which, as Montgomery used to 
 say, his English life commenced, and on which, seventeen 
 years afterwards, he was arrested as a libeller ! Speak- 
 ing of the voyage to England, '' We had," said he, ^' a 
 terrible storm. I was, as might be expected, much 
 afraid at first ; but my father told me to trust in the 
 Lord Jesus, who saved the apostles on the water. I did 
 so, and felt composed. There was one circumstance 
 of w^hich I was not aware at the time, but which after- 
 wards interested me when my father named it. Such 
 was the danger to which we were exposed, that the 
 captain himself was violently agitated, and pointing to 
 me, who sate composed and resigned, he said, ' I would 
 give a thousand pounds for the faith of that child.' 
 When I look back," continued Montgomery, '' and see 
 myself crossing the water twice at my early age, I seem 
 to have lived two lives; — an antediluvian one before 
 I came to England, and subsequently, a life after the 
 flood." 
 
 In the year 1783, the Rev. John Montgomery and 
 his excellent wife, having determined to devote them- 
 selves to the work of foreign missions, were appointed 
 to proceed to the West Indies. They therefore brought 
 their two younger children, Robert and Ignatius, to the 
 school at Fulneck, leaving them, along with James, 
 tlieir eldest son, in charge of the Brethren.* 
 
 * It may perhaps be proper to mention^ in the first place, that 
 "no Brother Is ever compelled or even persuaded to go as a 
 missionary among the heathen ;" and secondly, that, according to 
 Rule X. in the "- General Eules and Regulations of the Missions of 
 the United Brethren,'' ''provision is made for the education of thq 
 missionaries' children," &c. 
 
2Q MEMOIRS OF eTAMES MONTGOMERYc 
 
 After remaining about three inonths* with the boys, 
 the devoted Christian couple sailed for Barbadoes, which 
 island they reached in safety — messengers of the Gospel 
 from a land of religious freedom to a community of 
 slave- owners, slave-drivers, and slaves ! 
 
 ^ It appears from an old school diary still in existence at Ful- 
 neck, and with extracts of which we have been favoured, that the 
 poet's parents remained at the establishment with their children 
 from Sept, 25. to Dec. 2., on which day the Rev. John Montgomery 
 ^^ delivered an address to the children of the school/' 
 
27 
 
 CHAR IIL 
 
 1777— 1779, 
 
 FULNECK, ITS ESTABLISHMENT AND SITUATION MORAVIAN SEMINAPwY 
 
 THERE. RELIGIOUS SERVICES OF THE BRETHREN. — CHURCH FES- 
 TIVALS. — MONTGOMERY AT SCHOOL. — HIS PERSONAL PECULIARITIES 
 AS A BOY. — EARLIEST POETICAL PREDILECTIONS. — BLAIR's GRAVE. 
 — ROUND POEM. — GENIUS. 
 
 FuLNECK, so named from a town of Moravia in tlie 
 circle of Prerau, which had now become the residence 
 of James Montgomery and his two younger brothers^ 
 is situated on a pleasant eminence formerly called 
 '' Lamb's Hill," in the parish of Calverley, and about 
 six miles south-west of Leeds.* The hamlet or 
 *^ settlement " was founded by the Moravians about 
 the year 1748, and commands, beyond a richly culti- 
 vated valley in front, an extensive prospect ; the range 
 of buildings, especially from the south, forming an 
 interesting object to the eye. Conversing on the sub- 
 
 * The ground on which the establishment stands was originally 
 let to the Brethren on a very long lease by the Eev. Benjamin 
 Ingham, one of the little band of praying students to whom the 
 name of Methodists was first given at Oxford. He married the 
 Lady Margaret Hastings, half-sister to the celebrated Lady Hunt- 
 ingdon. He was a zealous preacher both before and after his 
 expulsion from the pulpits of the Church, forming numerous 
 religious societies, the members of which were generally called 
 Inghamites. These ultimately fraternised with the Moravians^ who 
 were introduced into Yorkshire by Mr. Ingham about 1739 
 throuf^h his intimacy with Count Zinzendorf. 
 
28 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMEBT. 
 
 ject — and we are desirous thcit Montgomery should 
 speak for himself as frequently as possible — ^* There 
 is/' he remarked, " an estate attached to the establish- 
 ment, divided into three farms — one for the Brethren, 
 another for the Sisters, and a third for the Seminary ; 
 the last of whicli affords a very considerable revenue. 
 It was a piece of rough moorland when entered upon, 
 but it has been highly improved/' Rev. T. Smith^: ^' The 
 situation is rather bleak." Montgomery : '^ It is exposed 
 to the east wind, v/hich often comes sweeping up the 
 valley; but it is sheltered from the north." Everett: 
 ^' You are richly recompensed in spring and summer 
 for anything you may suffer from the severity of 
 winter, by its openness to the south/' Montgomery : 
 ^' In summer it is delightful ; the sun seems to repose 
 on the side of the hill, and in front of the buildings." 
 Everett: ^^ The manners of tlie people in the neigh- 
 bouring villages are extremely rude." Montgomery : 
 "^ And they were extremely filthy too, which was partly 
 owing to their employment ; but still I used to think 
 they might find a fitter place for their nuisances than 
 in front of their doors. We never were (when I was 
 at school) allowed to walk out, unaccompanied by the 
 master ; but even with him we were sure to get insulted 
 before we returned, especially when our path lay 
 through Pudsey or Stanningley." 
 
 Few^ situations, perhaps, could have been selected as 
 better adapted for the purpose of a Moravian settlement, 
 than Fulneck. It is in a central part of the kingdom, 
 at a convenient distance from some of the most 
 populous towns and districts in Yorkshire^ wath which 
 
 "^ The Rev. Thomas Smith, M.A., late Minister of the Nether 
 Chapel, Sheffield, and classical tutor of Masbrouo-h Academy, 
 near Rotlierham. He was joint secretary with Mr. Monto-omery 
 and Mr. Everett of the Sheffield Lancasterian School for Girls. 
 
FULNECK SCHOOL, 29 
 
 it is surrounded, and yet it is sufficiently secluded. 
 The circumstance of the Brethren entering upon it 
 when ^^ it was apiece of rough moorland" is charac- 
 teristic of their general proceedings, whether we advert 
 to their missions abroad, or their establishments at home ; 
 for seldom, if ever, do we find them entering upon 
 another man's labours, and reaping where they have 
 not strown. Through their industry, the desert which 
 was once visible around Fulneck now blossoms like the 
 rose. The air, indeed, is remarkable for its salubrity ; 
 and the reputation of the school still stands high. And so 
 far as its popularity has been diminished at all, the result 
 is not due to any decreased exertions on the part of 
 the Brethren, but rather to the opening of seminaries 
 in which parents who are net actually averse to a reli- 
 gious education, may generally place their children 
 under teachers of their own denominations respectively. 
 Montgomery acknowledged a particular providence in 
 his removal to Fulneck: — 
 
 ^' For hither from my native clime, 
 The hand that leads Orion forth^ 
 And wheels Arcturus round the north, 
 Brought me in life's exulting prime. 
 — Blest be that hand ! whether it shed 
 Mercies or judgments on my head ; ' 
 
 Extend the sceptre or exalt the rod, 
 Blest be that hand ! it is the hand of Gob.'^ 
 
 Departed Dat/s. 
 
 One of the first teachers to whose instructions Mont- 
 gomery was indebted in Fulneck School, was Job 
 Bradley, a plain, kind Christian man, for whose memory 
 the grateful pupil always entertained, and, in one in- 
 stance at least recorded, an affectionate remembrance.* 
 
 * '* On Thursday last, died at Fulneck, Mr. Job Bradley, 46 
 years teacher of the least class in Fuhieck School, in the 76th year 
 
30 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 He sometimes read to the children portions of ^^ The 
 Pilgrim's Progress;" nor were the elder scholars 
 themselves interdicted from the perusal of another fas- 
 cinating book, the earliest favourite of almost every 
 thoughtful lad who is beginning to take an interest in 
 what he reads — ^^ Robinson Crusoe." This ingenious 
 romance was not only perused with avidity, but it pro- 
 duced the natural effect of its influence on sensitive 
 genius in juvenile attempts at imitation. We recollect 
 on one occasion mentioning to Montgomery Miss 
 Porter's imaginary narrative of the ^^ Shipwreck of Sir 
 Edward Seaward/' with the remark that she had 
 managed to cast her hero ashore in the company of his 
 wife. ^^ Aye/' rejoined the poet, ^^ but she had been 
 anticipated fifty years before by Joe Binns, one of my 
 schoolfellows at Fulneck, who, after reading ^Robinson 
 Crusoe,' wrote a tale of his own, in which he peopled 
 a desert island with the whole crew of a cast-away ship, 
 deriving from them, as I remember he did, not only a 
 new race of people, but a djmasty of sovereigns ! I 
 joined with him in the performance ; and in describing 
 the territorial divisions of our island we had in viev/ a 
 number of odd-shaped fields which lay on the hill-side 
 opposite the school." 
 
 As a rule, however, the reading of works of imagina- 
 tion, whether in prose or verse, was discouraged at that 
 time in Fulneck School. Tlie seminary had essentially 
 a religious character, and it will readily be admitted 
 
 of Ills ap;e. His truly Christian humility and unfeigned piety 
 cause his loss to be lamented by all who knew him ; and lono* will 
 the paternal affection and care of Brother Bradley^ as his pupils 
 fondly used to call him, be cherished in grateful remembrance by 
 those who have experienced it themselves, or seen it exercised 
 towards their children." — /ri^, Dec. 11. 1810. 
 
DESCRIPTION OF FULNECK. 31 
 
 that the constant recurrence of such observances as 
 those to which we have before alluded — a residence in 
 a community where '' religion is what law and custom 
 are elsewhere " — where the people '' work and play ; 
 associate together or dwell apart ; go out and come 
 in ; rise up and lie down ; perform every office of life 
 strictly, or at least avowedly under the sanction of the 
 faith of which they are professors" — that such a con- 
 currence of causes would be likely to have their effect 
 upon the mind of a most sensitively organised boy like 
 Montgomery. But the routine of the school brought 
 him into contact with other still more striking services 
 of a religious character. 
 
 A very pleasing and (on the testimony of Montgo- 
 mery) accurate description of Fulneck, from the pen of 
 a clergyman who had spent some years in the Mora- 
 vian school there, appeared in the '^ Metropolitan Ma- 
 gazine " for June, 1845 : we quote from it the following 
 graphic passages : — 
 
 " I shall not easily forget the boys^ sleeping hall, a large 
 room which extended over the whole of the building appro- 
 priated to the school, and contained between one and two 
 hundred beds. It was usual for us to meet there on the 
 evening prior to Easter Sunday. A pianoforte was taken 
 for the occasion to one end of this immense room ; over it 
 was suspended a lantern, which threw a dim light on a 
 splendid painting of a dead Christ, removed from the 
 Brethren's House. When all had assembled, we stood for a 
 few minutes in front of the picture. Then the full-toned 
 piano, accompanied by a French bugle, broke the silence 
 with one of those airs which for ages have been used in 
 the Moravian Church. This censed for a moment, and 
 we heard the sweet melody whispering round that vast 
 hall, the whole of whicli was in darkness, save the spot 
 where we were gathered. Again we mused on the painting, 
 and were almost startled by the breathh^ss quiet of the 
 
32 MEMOmS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY, 
 
 place. The music recommenced^ and we sang tliat fine old 
 hymn, — 
 
 ' Met around the sacred tomb. 
 Friends of Jesus, why those tears ?' &c. 
 
 " This Avas generally followed by an anthem suited to the 
 occasion. 
 
 ^' The next morning found us assembled by five o'clock in 
 tlie chapel, joined by an immense crowd. The service 
 opened with a voluntary on the organ — the congregation 
 rose — the Rev. C, F. Ramftler entered, followed by the 
 Rev. C. F. Reichel, Rev. Mr. Ray, &c., chanting as they 
 walked, ^ The Lord is risen indeed ! ' On reaching their 
 places, the Litany commenced, the responses to which were 
 sung by the choir and congregation. On arriving at the 
 part which refers to the Church triumphant, all adjourned 
 to the burial ground, and there finished the service in the 
 open air.^ 
 
 " Ti:iose only who have w^itnessed it, can form any notion 
 of its solemnity. The congregation formed a circle, in the 
 centre of which was the officiating clergyman. The sun had 
 just risen, and was lighting up that splendid scenery, and 
 the mists of the night were rapidly rolling aw^ay. In the 
 distance covering the opposite hill, were magnificent woods, 
 swept by a clear crystal stream ; over us, the birds of the 
 morning carolled their early matins, and then soared into 
 high heaven. It w^as in such a scene we offered this thrill- 
 ing petition to heaven's God : — 
 
 * This ancient and solemn service of the primitive Moravian 
 Church, had been — at least out-of-doors — discontinued mostly 
 by the Brethren at Fulneck before Montgomery's introduc- 
 tion to the school, in consequence of the damage done to the 
 c:rounds, and other disorders arisinn^ from the conerc'i-ation of 
 some thousands of individuals from the neighbourhood. The 
 younger boys listened to these annual commemoi^tions with 
 thrilling delight, while they entertained a hope, which in the poet's 
 case at least was not realised, of long participating in similar 
 solemnities. 
 
RELIGIOUS SERVICES OF THE BRETHREN. 33 
 
 ^'Minister. — ^And keep us in everlasting fellowship 
 with our brethren — and our sisters — [here mentioning the 
 names of those who had departed since the preceding Easter] 
 who have entered into the joy of their Lord, and whose 
 bodies are buried here ; also with the servants and hand- 
 maids of our Church, whom thou hast called home within 
 this year ; and with the whole Church triumphant ; and 
 grant that we may finally rest with them in thy presence 
 from all our labours. Amen.' 
 
 " Congregation. 
 
 ^ They are at rest in lasting bliss, ; 
 
 Beholding Christ their Saviour ; 
 Our humble expectation is, 
 To live with Him for ever ! ' 
 
 This verse was sung by the vast assembly, led by horns, 
 trombones, and other wind instruments, and echoed along 
 that beautiful valley, and mingled with the hum of bees, the 
 ripple of the waters, the wild music of the birds, and, it 
 may be, with the minstrelsy of unseen spirits. I have since 
 witnessed the religious ceremonies of other bodies; and 
 although it has been mine to minister at the altar of another 
 Communion, I must confess that I have met with nothing so 
 solemn, yet elegantly chaste, as these services of the 
 Brethren's Church." 
 
 ^' Some persons," said Montgomery^ ^Miave run away 
 with the notion that here was prayer for the dead : it 
 is nothing of the kind; but merely a solemn recog- 
 nition of the union and communion of those who are 
 livino^ and those who have departed in the faith — a 
 declaration that, although death may have severed the 
 relations of earth, the spiritual fellowship of those 
 who are one in Christ remains unbroken." 
 
 Of course, as we have already intimated, the rest of 
 those great festivals, which are celebrated by the Church 
 throughout Christendom— Good Friday, Palm Sunday, 
 
 VOL. I. ^ 
 
34 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Whitsunday, Christmas, &c.— were not neglected at 
 Fulneck. On Christmas eve, for instance, everything 
 was in keeping ; the only sound heard in the village was 
 that of the chapel bell, summoning to worship. Every 
 part of the neat yet imposing edifice, with the large 
 chandeliers, &c., had been previously decorated by the 
 Sisters with festoons of evergreens, intermingled with 
 ingenious and beautifully cut devices in paper, &c. 
 The pulpit was similarly adorned. Immediately in 
 front of it, fringed with fir, holly, and various kinds of 
 winter flowers, was a scroll, bearing the inscription 
 *^ UNTO us A CHILD IS BORN." Precisely at five o'clock, 
 P.M. the organ pealed forth a tide of harmony, the con- 
 gregation rose, the clergy entered, and the choir per- 
 formed the Christmas anthem. Tea w^as then handed 
 round ; and children's voices w^ere heard singing that 
 touching melody — 
 
 " Christ the Lord — the Lord most glorious 
 Now is born — Oh, shout aloud !" &c.* 
 
 It should be added that the Moravians hold a solemn 
 religious service on the last night of the year; it is the 
 antitype of the '' Watch night " of the Methodists ; — the 
 people in both cases prostrating themselves in silent 
 prayer at the close of the minister's address, a little 
 before, and until the clock strikes twelve : then rising 
 and singing together an appropriate hvmn. 
 
 It njay be mentioned that when young, Montgomery 
 had a very abundant crop of ^' carotty locks "f; his 
 
 * Metropolitan Mag., June, 1845. 
 
 t Hugh Montgomery, second Earl of Arundel, appears to have 
 possessed this peculiarity in so striking a deo-ree that like his 
 countryman, King William Bufus, he received"^ a cognomen from 
 it, being called by the Welsh '' Hugh Goch," or the red-haired — 
 Tierney's Hist, Ainindel^ vol. i. p. 154. 
 
PERSONAL PECULIAKITIE8 AS A BOY. 35 
 
 constitution early manifested a scorbutic taint of blood, 
 which troubled him a good deal in after life ; he had 
 also a common defect of ^ision^ owing to excessive 
 convexity of the pupil of the eye — a circumstance, 
 which, co-operating with morbid sensibihties, was likely 
 enougli to throw back upon itself, or into communion 
 with books, the mind of a boy so generally shut out 
 from the excursive and adventurous recreations of his 
 fellow pupils.* 
 
 It was the desire of Montgomery's parents to see 
 their son become a minister in the Brethren's church : 
 and on that high office his preceptors had an especial 
 
 ^^ To pretend or to admit that a defectiveness of eyesight bad 
 any connection with what has been termed " original genius," 
 would be almost as ridiculous as, in our day, is the habit of wearing 
 spectacles by individuals who do not require them. There can, 
 however, be little doubt, but that a decided optical infirmity, by 
 the manner in which it commonly cuts off in a great degree the 
 fresher sources of boyish dissipation and bodily exercise, tends to 
 that early ^' self-communion," which so often results in a manhood 
 of thoughtfulness, constant, if not deep. Montgomery had a 
 beautiful eye ; but owing to the excessive convexity of the lens 
 — a cause either unknown or misunderstood by his parents — his 
 childhood was marked by a visual infirmity, which excluded him 
 from most of the active out-door amusements, as well as scenic 
 gratifications, of his playmates. The myopic character of this de- 
 fect, for the correction of which he many years afterwards adopted 
 glasses, and continued to wear them to the end of life, was first 
 discovered by him soon after his arrival at Fulneck. While con- 
 fined in the school room, he presently perceived that a clump of 
 trees on an opposite hill top was clearly defined when looked at 
 through an accidentally concave flaw in the window pane, while 
 the same object seen by the ordinary media appeared an indis- 
 criminate mass. Often did the moody boy amuse himself with 
 this optical discovery, while his school-fellows were engaged at 
 cricket, in which he could not join, or in sliding on the ice — a 
 pleasant juvenile exercise, in v/hich we have heard him say he was 
 wholly unsuccessful 
 
 u 2 
 
3G MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 eye in directing his studies. In addition to the Latin, 
 Greek, German, and French languages, he received 
 instruction in History, Geography, and Music. And 
 although his anxiety to distinguish himself among his 
 school-fellows as a poet, soon interfered with the para- 
 mount claim of these beneficial pursuits, the advan- 
 tages of his religious training were even then strongly 
 apparent. 
 
 The reader will naturally be curious to know what 
 first led Montgomery to court the Muses. On being 
 interrogated on the subject — ^^ The master," said he, 
 ^ Hook several of the children out, one day, and read 
 ^ Blair's Grave ' to them behind a hedge ; my attention 
 was strongly arrested, and a few lines made a powerful 
 impression upon my mind : I said to myself, ^ If ever 
 I become a poet, I will write something like this.' I 
 afterwards resolved, oddly enough, that when I became 
 a man, I would write a round poem : this notion was 
 perpetually in my head ; an idea of round being my idea 
 of perfection." This he illustrated by referring to a 
 glass globe, which was smooth and entire ; that anything 
 added to it might augment its size, but would never 
 add to the perfection of its rotundity ; while anything 
 taken from it might be destructive of its globular form, 
 and so far also of its perfection. When it was once 
 inquired, whether he could attribute to the perusal of 
 any particular author that smoothness of versification 
 which was so predominant a characteristic of his poetry, 
 he still had recourse to the old image, observing, '' I 
 wrought it out in my own mind as a pebble is rounded 
 by the stream ; I always aimed at it from the beonnnino". 
 My fii-st idea, as I liave before told you, was to write a 
 round poem: this was early my heau ideal of perfec- 
 tion ; and never shall I forget the impression this vague 
 notion made upon my boyish imagination. I remember 
 
ELAia's ''GRAVE." 37 
 
 as well as if it was but yesterday, how I leaned upon a 
 rail while I stood upon some steps in Fuhieck, and 
 deeply and silently mused in my mind, on the commotion 
 which would be produced upon the public by the 
 appearance of this round poem:' "^ Holland: ''What 
 particular part of Blair's poem impressed you most ? " 
 Montgomery : '' The Grave-Digger." Everett : " Is 
 it not remarkable that an author so deservedly po- 
 pular, should have written so little ? " Montgomery : 
 " There are two or three other pieces of his com- 
 position, but of a very inferior character. His 
 ^ Grave' is powerful, but somewhat rough." Hoi-- 
 land: ^' Were there any other authors who can be 
 said at that time to have inspired you with a love of 
 poetry ? " Montgomery : " The next poem which I 
 heard read — for I was not permitted to read it myself 
 — was Blackmore's 'Prince Arthur' j^ : this far surpassed 
 anything I had either heard or imagined ; it was read to 
 me some time after I had heard the ' Grave,' and had 
 even attempted the composition of Hymns. There 
 was a rumbling majesty in the lines, which completely 
 captivated my mind, and confirmed the resolution 
 produced by Blair : I resolved I would be a Black- 
 more." Everett : " Sir Richard interested you, then, I 
 suppose, merely for his novelty ? '^ Montgomery j plea- 
 
 * It might almost be Imagined the boy had derived his notion of 
 spherical perfection from a well-known stanza of Dryden's, with 
 which lie was, however, unacquainted: — 
 
 '' How shall I, then, begin, or where conclude, 
 To draw a fame so truly circular ? 
 For in a round what order can be showed. 
 Where all the parts so equal perfect are." 
 
 On the Death of CromweJL St. v. 
 
 f It is remarkable that the " Christian Poet " does not con- 
 tain any extract from Blackmore. 
 
 ^ D 3 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 santly : ^^ You may say what you will against Sir 
 Richard, but he was a great man." We might mention, 
 among others, Norris of Bemerton's '' Crucifixion " and 
 ^^ Garden of Gethsemane," as pieces with which our 
 young poet was at that early period much enamoured. 
 
 It is not strange that Montgomery should have 
 retained in after life some portion of filial respect for 
 the poem which seemed to have been the parent of his 
 juvenile resolution. When the '' Grave " was long 
 afterwards published, with Blake's splendid illustra- 
 tions, he became the possessor of a copy ; but, as 
 several of the plates were hardly of such a nature as to 
 render the book proper to lie on a parlour table for 
 general inspection, he sold his copy for the subscription 
 price ; a circumstance which he often regretted, as the 
 death of the artist soon afterwards rendered the work 
 both scarce and proportionately more valuable. Those 
 persons who have once seen these illustrations will 
 readily recollect the print representing the angel of the 
 ^Mast trump" descending to awake the dead. The 
 celestial messenger is seen in an almost perpendicular 
 position, head downwards, and with his trumpet close 
 to the ear of a corpse which is just beginning to 
 revive, — the bones of the figure are apparently uniting, 
 and the flesh and skin slowdy creeping over the skeleton ! 
 The solemn absurdity of this conception, and the 
 ingenious manner in which it is executed, afforded 
 Montgomery a very amusing topic of conversation on 
 one occasion when we were present. 
 
 While it must be a matter of some interest to know 
 what first inspired a love of poetry in one who cultivated 
 it with life-long success, it is not surprising that the 
 youthful mind of Montgomery should have been sensibly 
 touched on hearing such a poem as the " Grave " read. 
 For where is the person, owing to the universal interest 
 
BLAlR^S '' GRATE." 
 
 39 
 
 of the subject, and the striking delineations of character 
 with which the poem abounds, who has passed the 
 tender age of childhood without having been deeply 
 affected by its first perusal? It is not so much, there- 
 fore, on account of the impression made, that we dis- 
 tinctly notice the subject, as that we would mark the 
 day on which he heard it as that of his poetical nati- 
 vity, —the very hedge under whose shade he sat, as 
 the birthplace of his genius. While the other boys 
 were careless of what was read, he appeared literally 
 fixed to the spot. 
 
 " At school," as he wrote in 1794, '' even when I was 
 driven like a coal ass through the Latin and Greek grammars, 
 I was distinguished for nothing but indolence and melan- 
 choly, brought upon me by a raging and lingering fever with 
 which I was suddenly seized one fine summer day, as I lay 
 under a hedge with my companions, listening to our master 
 whilst he read us some animated passages from Blair's 
 Poem on the Grave. My happier school-fellows, born under 
 milder planets, all fell asleep during the rehearsal; but 
 I, who am always asleep when I ought to be waking, never 
 dreamed of closing an eye, but eagerly caught the con- 
 tagious malady ; and from that ecstatic moment to the 
 present, Heaven knows, I have never enjoyed one cheerful, 
 one peaceful night," 
 
 We find a somewhat similar accident imparting the 
 first impulse to the poetical instinct of Cowley, who 
 took an early delight in reading Spenser's " Faerie 
 Queen," which lav in the window of his mother's 
 apartment, and which he continued to read, till, by 
 feeling the charms of verse, he became, to use his own 
 phrase, irrecoverably a poet. '^ Such," observes Dr. 
 Johnson, '^ are the accidents which, sometimes remeni- 
 bered, and perhaps sometimes forgotten, produce that 
 particular designation of mind, and propensity for some 
 
 D 4 
 
 .y 
 
40 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 certain science or employment, wliicli is called genius. 
 The true genius is a mind of large general powers, 
 accidentally determined to some particular direction. 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds, the great painter of the present 
 nge, had the first fondness for his art excited by the 
 perusal of Richardson's Treatise."* 
 
 # Cowley's Life. 
 
41 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 1779—1783. 
 
 FIRST ATTEIVIPTS AT RHYME. — THE OLD MORAVIAN HYMN BOOK. 
 
 PROHIBITED AND EXPURGATED BOOKS. STOLEN PERUSAL OF 
 
 POETICAL WORKS. — JUVENILE BIRTHDAY VERSES. HOPEFUL BOY^S 
 
 AT SCHOOL. SIMPLICITY OF MANNERS THERE. MONTGOMERY 
 
 READS EXTRACTS FROM BURNS. — COWPER, — " DEPARTED DAYS." 
 
 BOOKS AND CHILDREN. NOTABLE VISITORS AT FDLNECK. JOHN 
 
 WESLEY. — DE WATTEVILLE. — LORD MONBODDO. — THE HOLY 
 KISS. 
 
 The first practical effort of Montgomery in rhyme was, 
 naturally enough, in imitation of the hymns with which 
 he was daily familiar, — his chief ^^ poetical preceptor" 
 being the old Moravian choir-book, — doubtless the 
 most curious collection of sacred lyrics in existence. 
 The best apology that can now perhaps be offered for a 
 work at which English taste, and even English ortho- 
 doxy, once so strongly revolted*, is that, in the first 
 
 * Bishop Lavington, whose dislike seems to have been almost 
 as strong against the Moravians as against the Methodists, re- 
 prehended the book in question : as did likewise the Rev. J. 
 Stinstra, a Dutch Anabaptist, if not an Arian (vide " Letters of 
 Kichardson," v. 245.), and the Rev. John Watson, the Vicar and 
 Historian of Halifax, who addressed, through the press, a letter to 
 the clergy of the Moravian Church, " pointing out several incon- 
 sistencies and absurdities in the said Book of Hymns." The 
 mildest censure is that of the celebrated Countess of Huntingdon, 
 who, in a letter to Dr. Doddridge, says : " A Hymn Book is lately 
 published by them (the Moravians), which, to speak as I feel 
 towards them, in love, can be thought of no other way but as the 
 product of the most wild enthusiasts upon the earth.'' — Life and 
 Times of the Countess of Huntingdon^ vol. i. p. 102. 
 
42 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 place, it was almost wholly a literal translation from the 
 German ; secondly, its offensive peculiarities were, for 
 the most part, confined to style, — the metaphors and 
 not the doctrines being puerile or ludicrous ; and lastly, 
 it has long been withdrawn from general use in the 
 Brethren's congregations. There is some weight, too, 
 in the sentiment of Montgomery, — who, by the way, 
 would never lend us this book*, — that ^^ other parties 
 did not understand it;" but, be that as it may, there 
 seems something like a phenomenon in the fact of a 
 poet, who started from such a point, becoming the most 
 perfect and polished hymnologist of his age. 
 
 As every avenue of approach to the boys, with un- 
 authorised books, was carefully watched at Fulneck, 
 Montgomery's poetical reading lay under considerable 
 restriction. He could not, with Dr. Beattie, congratu- 
 late himself by saying: — '^Before I was ten years old 
 I was as much master of Homer and Virgil as Pope's 
 and Dry den's translations could make me," -j* for, prior 
 to this period, he was prevented from becoming ac- 
 quainted with any of our more eminent English poets, 
 with the exception of Blair's ^^ Grave," and detached parts 
 
 * It was somewhat arausuig to see how zealously several cor- 
 respondents in successive numbers of ''Notes and Queries," 1852, 
 quoted and criticised Ihe contents of this collection, many of the 
 hymns in which Montgomery himself might have been proud 
 to have written ; especially those by the celebrated Lutheran 
 pastor, Paul Gerhardt, who died at Llibben in Saxony, in 1676. 
 His " Devotional Songs,'* one hundred and twenty in number, 
 " have ever been highly valued by the Church of Christ, and 
 doubtless will continue to be so, so lono: as German tono:ues are 
 employed to celebrate the praises of redeeming love." This 
 testimony is from Mrs. Carr's translation of Pastor Wildenhahu s 
 " Paul Gerhardt, an Historical Tale of the Lutherans and Re- 
 formers in Brandenburg, under the Great Elector," 2 vols. 
 1847. 
 
 f Forbes's Life of Beattie, vol. i. p. 207. 
 
PUOIIIBITED AND EXPURGATED BOOKS. 43 
 
 of BlackmoiVs '^ Prince Artliur/' as already noticed. 
 He related an anecdote to one of the biographers, 
 which, though it has already appeared in print, may be 
 appropriately noticed here, to show the vigilant care of 
 his instructors. The father of one of the boys sent to 
 the school a volume of selections, chiefly from Milton, 
 Thomson, and Young; consisting, as he supposed, of 
 some of their finest morcil and religious sentiments. 
 The book, however, was carefully examined by one of 
 the masters, and pruned of its unprofitable passages. 
 On its being presented to the boy, he had the mortifi- 
 cation to find it seriously mutilated, many leaves cut 
 out, and others in a mangled state ! 
 
 This solicitude of the Christian teachers of Fulneck, 
 though in itself highly commendable, has been charged 
 w^ith producing, in some degree, the effects intended to 
 be avoided by it. It was, how^ever, much more efficient 
 than some similar plans that have been projected and 
 pursued elsewhere. We have seen theories put forth 
 for striking from the Bible itself passages which it is 
 alleged are improper to be submitted to the indiscri- 
 minate perusal of children. In such a case, we should 
 be the last to regret that the prohibition or omission of 
 certain parts should lead to a perusal of the whole ; 
 for it will generally be found, that, to allow even chil- 
 dren to dlGT for the ore of truth in its own native bed, 
 is on the whole the best ; experience proving that God, 
 who stands by his own word, will never suffer it to , 
 be read in vain, especially under judicious religious 
 tutors. The Israelites were commanded to teach their 
 children diligently ''all the words'' of the Law; and 
 to " Search the Scriptures " is a duty as imperative and 
 bindino* upon young persons as upon those of riper 
 years. In reference to uninspired productions, caution 
 is certainly requisite, — not the caution observed in the 
 
44 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 memorable edition of the Westminster Classics, in 
 which the objectionable sentences are weeded from the 
 pages, and placed by themselves at the conclusion of 
 the volume ! a plan which has naturally caused more 
 vigorous and curious translations to be attempted of 
 the interdicted passages than if they had either been 
 omitted altogether or suffered to remain in the body of 
 the works from which, with doubtless the best inten- 
 tions, they had been separated.^ A little incident may 
 here be mentioned, as showing that Montgomery him- 
 self was far from relinquishing the general principles of 
 caution. While one of the biographers was once sit- 
 ting with him by the fire, in the shop of the Misses 
 Gales, in Sheffield, a little boy entered, about the 
 height of the counter, and inquired, — ^^ Have you a 
 sixpenny play-book, called Jane Shore ?" Montgomery 
 
 * Perhaps some persons may think the perusal of the poems of 
 Burns, Blackwood's Magazine, Mrs. Radcliffe's " Mysteries of 
 Udolpho," and Scott's Novels, in which the boys were afterwards 
 allowed to indulge, a larger stride in the direction of the sph^it of 
 the age than might have been expected, in Fulneck school, to have 
 characterised even a transition from the eighteenth to the nine- 
 teenth century. The readings and the music of the later period, 
 are thus enthusiastically referred to by an old pupil: — "I have 
 known the boys fling aside their books during ' preparation hour,' 
 to listen while Thomson [a son of the late Dr. Thomson of 
 Edinburgh] practised on the piano. One afternoon in class, Mr. 
 Fredlizius had given us, instead of the 'English Header,' a volume 
 of Scott's ' Old Mortality.* The part selected was that which 
 describes the journey of old Mause, Cuddie, and the Rev. Gabriel 
 Kettledrummie, with the battle and death scene of Claverhouse. 
 The effect of this narrative was only equalled by the music of the 
 evening, when our young associate worked us up to pure enthu- 
 siasm. I was not wrong when I settled it in my own mind that 
 John Thomson was destined for eminence. He afterwards filled the 
 professor's chair in the University of Edinburgh." — Metropolitan 
 Mag., June, 1845, p. 195. 
 
STOLEN PERUSAL OF POETICAL WOKKS. 45 
 
 started up in an apparently angry mood, saying, — 
 '' You little fellow, why do you want that book ? Such 
 things are not fit for you to read ; go instantly about 
 your business." The boy made a quick retreat ; and 
 as Montgomery returned, after having shut the door, 
 he observed, smiling, '' Who knows but that is a young 
 Roscius ? One of the first things that gave me a desire 
 to read such books, was an extract from ^Hamlet,' 
 in Enfield's ^ Speaker,' which I read when at school. 
 "We were of course prohibited from reading the entire 
 play, and that very prohibition, with a recollection of 
 the extract, created in me the most ardent desire to see 
 the whole ; nor did I ever rest till I had read it." His 
 conduct to the boy evinces, that, whatever might have 
 been the effect of the prohibition on his own juvenile 
 mind, in riper years he saw its propriety; nor was there 
 ever a more faithful guardian, as far as his influence ex- 
 tended, of the principles and morals of youth. 
 
 How strictly the system of surveillance at school was 
 carried out — in Montgomery's case at least — we 
 learn from himself, in a confidential letter to a friend, 
 written in early life. Speaking of his ten years' residence 
 at Fulneck, he says : — " During the whole of this long- 
 period, I was as carefully secluded, in common with all 
 my school-fellows, from any commerce with the world, 
 as if we had been imprisoned in a cloister. I do not 
 recollect having once, during all that time, conversed for 
 ten minutes with any person whatever, except my com- 
 panions, our masters, or occasional Moravian visitors!'' 
 Referring to the motives and influences of piety in 
 connection with the same time and place, he remarks: — 
 '' Whatever we did was done for the sake and in the name 
 of Jesus Christ, . • . whom we were taught to regard 
 in the amiable and endearing light of a friend and bro- 
 
46 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 ther." * And then comes the following touching and signi- 
 ficant testimony to the effect of this early Moravian disci- 
 pline: — " There is no system of religion^ which I have 
 yet seen, which, taking it all in all, has half the charms 
 for a young, a warm, and a feeling heart, as that pro- 
 fessed by these people. I once believed ; I once enjoyed 
 its blessings ; I once was happy ! But I was troubled 
 from my infancy with that most inveterate of distempers, 
 tlie cacoethes scrihendi. The hymns of the Moravians are 
 full of ardent expressions, tender complaints, and ani- 
 mated prayers : these were my delight. As soon as I 
 could write and spell, I imitated them ; and before I 
 was thirteen, I had filled a little volume with sacred 
 poems, though I was almost entirely unacquainted with 
 our great English poets." And then follows the ac- 
 count of the volume of poetry, pruned of its unprofit- 
 able passages. ^^ But," adds the poet, ^^ notwithstand- 
 ing all this care, I frequently found means to borrow 
 books, and read by stealth. But all mankind are made 
 of the same clay: my curiosity was insatiate; and the 
 pains that were taken to conceal certain things from us 
 made us more eager to explore them." These stolen 
 waters of knowledge were sweet — sweet in the mouth, 
 but bitter in the belly; for he goes on : — '^ Religion 
 itself, at length, was brought before the court of inqui- 
 
 * The peculiarity alleged in tlie text was early and permanently 
 apparent in Count Zinzendorf. '' Sometimes," says his biographer, 
 Spangenberg, speaking of his boyhood, *' when he had pen, ink, 
 and paper, he wrote a little note to his Saviour ^ told him in it 
 how his heart felt towards him, and threw it out of the window, 
 in the hopes that he would find it/' On the same authority we 
 are told that on one occasion, when travellino- on his reli^^ious 
 mission along with a companion, he sent the latter back to Herrn- 
 hut, '*in order that he might converse the more unreservedly with 
 his Saviour, with whom he was wont to speak, when alone, as if 
 he were personally with him," 
 
JUVENILE BIRTHDAY VERSES. ' 47 
 
 sition in my own heart: I studied, I reasoned, I doubted, 
 I almost disbelieved what I had hitherto adhered to on tlie 
 credit of ray tutors ; simplicity once lost can never be 
 regained :" and it was the life-long lamentation of the 
 poet that he had once so lost it ! 
 
 It ought to be observed that although the preceptors 
 of Fulneck school were aware how easily tlie heart is 
 entered and the affections seduced by the avenues of 
 the imagination, and therefore interdicted tlie readin<'- 
 of some of the higher, and consequently more fascinat- 
 ing productions of the British poets, it does not appear 
 that the composition of verses was restrained, but 
 rather encouraged. On the birthday of any favourite 
 scholar, it was usual for his school-fellows, with whom, 
 however, the task was perfectly optional, to present him 
 with some poetical tribute ; which, after being perused 
 by the master, was read before the bishop, who *^ im- 
 proved the occasion " to the moral and spiritual advan- 
 tage of the hoys. Young Montgomery was among 
 the tributary bards on one of these occasions: but 
 being, as he observed, too listless to perform his task^ 
 and knowing that another boy had a good stock of 
 verses in his folio, our tyro bargained with him for 
 a copy, selecting what he judged the best. It was 
 given in with the others to the master for examination, 
 when it turned out there was one exactly similar to it, 
 which another boy, as idle as himself, had procured in 
 tlie same way ! This led to an explanation which mor- 
 tified Montgomery exceedingly; and he immediately 
 retired and produced a composition which w^as deemed 
 superior to any of the others that were presented. 
 
 As a sample of these Juvenilia^ we transcribe the fol- 
 lowing from the tributes offered to Montgomery on his 
 own birthdav, Nov. 4th, 178G : like those of the 
 preceding and following years, they have no merit 
 beyond the evidence they afford of an affectionate 
 
48 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 feeling on the part of the boys towards each other. 
 The first and last are from his brothers : — 
 
 " O5 dearest Lord ! to him be near, 
 And bless him daily through this year; 
 Yea, let his heart besprinkled be, 
 Each day and hour, with love from Thee. 
 
 ^' O, bless my dearest brother so. 
 That he with gratitude may glow, 
 And give his heart, as some reward. 
 For all thy sufferings, dearest Lord. 
 
 Robert Montgomery." 
 
 "My dear Saviour, let him be 
 Thy own blood-bought property : 
 O, grant him a happy heart — 
 Let him never from Thee part. 
 
 " Dearest Saviour^ grant him peace ; 
 Let thy love to him ne'er cease : 
 O, let him enjoy Thee ever — 
 His kind Lord, and gracious Saviour. 
 
 John Angell." 
 
 " beloved Saviour, dear ! 
 Grant to him a happy year ; 
 Let him be in love with Thee 
 Unto all eternity. 
 
 ^' May his heart be quite resigned 
 To thy holy will and mind : 
 May he ever thine remain, 
 Till to heaven he attain. 
 
 " Every hour, and everywhere. 
 Be Thou to his heart quite near ; 
 Let him feel thy precious peace. 
 Throughout all his future days. 
 
 "From your loving brother, 
 
 " Ignatius Montgomery.'* 
 
HOPEFUL BOYS AT SCHOOL. 49 
 
 There are at least a dozen more sets of verses in the 
 batch, exhibiting, respectively, neither more poetry nor 
 less piety than the foregoing. It is gratifying to perceive 
 how the - threefold cord" of fraternal affection, which 
 was « not broken " except by the stroke of death, bound 
 together the boys who were left by their parents as 
 orphans, " for Christ's sake," in this religious semi- 
 nary. . 
 
 On being asked whether any of the boys educated 
 with him became distinguished for their talents, par- 
 ticularly as ^oeis, — Montgomery : "No; there was 
 one boy I used to envy exceedingly for his ability 
 in composing verses. I would at that time have 
 given anything to have been able to write like Billy 
 Dutton ; he was the envy of the whole school for this 
 talent." Everett: "Is he living?" (1822.) Mont- 
 gomery : " No, poor fellow ; he died long since." Hol- 
 land: '"The celebrated Richard Hatt,' as he calls him- 
 self, has printed a fragment of a poem on the Laic, 
 which was written by a Peter Collis, who is said to 
 have been your schoolfellow." Montgomery : " Yes ; 
 Peter was a clever lad, and was remarkable for his keen 
 memory ; but he was much younger than I ; and was 
 with mv brothers in another room." 
 
 Another birthday anecdote may be mentioned, as 
 showing the simple piety of the children. 
 
 It was customary for the boys of different classes to 
 take tea with each other. Montgomery was then in 
 his ninth year, and was placed with boys of his own 
 age and attainments. One day the beverage was 
 changed ; and when the boys had all partaken, they 
 formed a circle hand in hand, and sung a hymn. One 
 of the least was then placed in the centre of the ring, 
 to officiate in prayer. He knelt down, and said, ^^ O 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
50 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Lord, bless us little children, and make us very good. 
 We thank thee for what we have received. O bless 
 this good chocolate to us, and give us more of it!" 
 ^^ When he came to the closing sentence,'' said Mont- 
 gomery, ^^ we could scarcely maintain our seriousness, 
 though it was the natural expression of every one of 
 our hearts." 
 
 His attachment to verse increased ; and by secretly 
 borrowing and reading books by stealth he contrived 
 incessantly to add to his stock of poetical ideas. Such 
 was the facility with which he versified, that, before he 
 had attained the tenth year of his age, he had filled a little 
 volume with his own compositions. These mostly bore 
 the stamp of seriousness, and were, in style, construction, 
 and sentiment, similar to the Moravian hymns which he 
 was in the daily habit of either reading, singing, or 
 hearing ^^ given out " in the devotional exercises of the 
 Brethren. 
 
 Opportunities of getting a sight of poetry of a higher 
 order were now sometimes caught. Montgomery and 
 some of the other bovs even contrived to obtain 
 an occasional, but always furtive glance at two or 
 three of the little poems of Burns, which had found 
 their way, from the first volume published by the 
 Scottish bard, into a newspaper received by one of the 
 Fulneck teachers. Before he left school he read the 
 two volumes of Cowper's, then recently published; 
 and this, he said, w^as the first ^^ whole poet" he had 
 seen. And what other poet was there whose works, as 
 a wliole^ could be said to be so unexceptionable ? It 
 is somewhat remarkable, however, that Montgomery, 
 who lived to appreciate with such critical sagacity the 
 beauties of the bard of Olney, — to assign his position 
 in the van of that striking poetical cohort which pre- 
 sently characterised our literature, and who, doubt- 
 
^^ DEPARTED DAYS/' 51 
 
 less, beyond any other individual, ultimately sym- 
 pathised with the piety as well as the genius of his 
 predecessor, did not, at the period in question, much 
 relish his works ! The style was, in fact, too pure and 
 simple : ^' I thought," said he, ^' I could write better 
 verses myself." 
 
 To the character of his early love for poetry, he re- 
 fers in a spirit-stirring rhapsody on ^^ Departed Days," 
 part of which has been already cited. How gracefully 
 he blends with the recollections of his boyish lays a 
 description of his pursuits and feelings ! — 
 
 " Here, while I roved, a heedless boy, 
 Here, while through paths of peace I ran^ 
 My feet were vexed with puny snares, 
 My bosom stung with insect cares : 
 But ah ! what hght and httle things 
 Are childhood's woes! — they break no rest! 
 Like dew-drops on the sky-lark's wings, 
 While slumbering on his grassy nest. 
 Gone in a moment^ when he springs 
 To meet the morn with open breast. 
 As o'er the eastern hills her banners glow. 
 And, veiled in mist, the valley sleeps below. 
 
 " Like him, on these delightful plains, 
 I taught, with fearless voice, 
 The echoing woods to sound my strains, 
 The mountains to rejoice. 
 Hail ! to the trees beneath whose shade, 
 Rapt into worlds unseen, I strayed ; 
 Hail ! to the stream that purled along 
 In hoarse accordance to my song, — 
 My song, that poured uncensured lays 
 Tuned to a dying Saviour^s praise^ 
 In numbers simple, wild, and sweet, 
 As were the flowers beneath my feet ; — ■ 
 
 E 2 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Those flowers are dead^ 
 
 Those numbers fled, 
 
 Yet o'er my secret thought, 
 
 From cold oblivion's silent gloom 
 
 Their music to mine ear is brought, 
 
 Like voices from the tomb." 
 
 These lines were written in the spring of 1806, on 
 visiting Fuhieck, when few things imparted greater 
 pleasure than a recollection of the innocence of his 
 childhood and the devotional character of his muse ; for, 
 as he continues to sing, — 
 
 '' As yet, in this untainted breast, 
 No baleful passion burned^ 
 Ambition had not banished rest. 
 Nor hope had earthward turned ; 
 Proud Reason still in shadow lay. 
 And in my firmament alone. 
 Forerunner of the day. 
 The dazzling star of wonder shone. 
 By whose enchanting ray 
 Creation opened on my earliest view. 
 And all was beautiful, for all was new." 
 
 Speaking of this period of life, when ^^ Proud Reason 
 still in shadow lay,"* he once made a remark in our 
 hearing, which may here be appropriately introduced. 
 At a meeting of the friends and teachers of an insti- 
 tution for the religious education of children, at which 
 one of the biographers presided, a note was handed to 
 Montgomery by the chairman, requesting him to make 
 a few observations on a passage in the Report which had 
 been read, to the effect, that in the library of the school 
 there were several books unfit for the children to read, 
 as being above their capacity. After several other 
 judicious remarks, he said he did not altogether object 
 
BOOKS AND CHILDREN. 53 
 
 to books of the description complained of; for they 
 ought not always to be brought down to a level with the 
 capacities of children ; their understandings were rather 
 to be brought up to the meaning of the works by the 
 teachers labouring to make them acquainted with their 
 contents. Every school book must always be in one 
 sense above the capacity of the learner, otherwise in- 
 struction would be unnecessary. He recollected dif- 
 ferent books being put into his hands while a boy at 
 school^ which^ though he had not at the time under- 
 standing to comprehend them^ he had industry to 
 read, and a memory to retain their contents. These 
 became materials for thinking in after life ; the subjects 
 were received into the memory as the stomach receives 
 food. From thence they were taken up into the un- 
 derstanding. There, properly digested, they afforded 
 suitable intellectual nourishment. This, in its turn, 
 influenced the heart ; and if he had not become both 
 wiser and better for all that he had read in his life, the 
 fault was not in the books, but in himself. 
 
 The boys were occasionally indulged with a walk, 
 accompanied by their teachers, to Kirkstall Abbey, the 
 fine ruins of which, as well as the ground upon which 
 they stood, were at that time wholly untrimmed by the 
 hand of art. Of one of these juvenile excursions, as 
 reviewed in later years, we find the following memento 
 among the poet's fragments in rhyme : — 
 
 . " Ye ruins green and gray, 
 More glorious in decay, 
 Than in your prime, 
 How do your piles display 
 
 The powers of Nature, Man, and Time ! 
 
 " He the proud structure planned ; 
 Reared it,^ and bade it stand, 
 
 While Time and Nature should endure ; 
 
 E 3 
 
54 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEKY. 
 
 Then laid him down and died, 
 And, in the folly of his pride, 
 
 Deemed the temple and his shrine secure ! 
 
 '^ Time viewed the noble monument ; 
 Its stately bulwarks rent, 
 Broke down its towers^ and spread 
 Their fragments o'er the builder's head ; 
 Then, with his progeny of years, 
 Each moment^ faithful to its trust. 
 Touched down their glory into dust. 
 Nature beheld, and shed sweet tears, 
 And bade the lichen and the moss 
 The standing stone, the fallen emboss ; 
 Dew, rain, snow, sleet and hail. 
 And sun and breeze, and clouds and storms. 
 Through ages nurtured in the vale 
 Flowers of all colours, scents, and forms. 
 Running through thick and waving grass, 
 And among every clustered mass ; 
 While on each undecaying wall 
 She trained with delicatest care 
 The ivy in luxuriant folds to crawl, 
 And hang in wreaths amid the air ; 
 Around the lanthorn spires to creep. 
 And through the unlatticed windows sweep, 
 The haunt of midnight owls. . . . 
 Trees from the verdant floor, 
 Amidst the roofless aisles take root. 
 And lift th' uplooking eye 
 Through their green branches to the sky." . . . 
 
 " At Esliolt Hallj near Woodhouse Grove^^ says he, 
 in a note before us, ^^ I remember, as a boy, a stately 
 figure of Diana^ that ^ Queen and Huntress, chaste and 
 fair,' equipped for giving no quarter to ^ the flying hart,' 
 as Ben Jonson calls that notorious deer-stalker, in one 
 of his beautiful songs. There was also a smaller, full- 
 
BJERLEY PAKK. 55 
 
 length lady undrest in a bower, all gilt and glittering, 
 ^ aurea Venus' no doubt, which we naughty boys were 
 not permitted to approach too curiously/' 
 
 Another place which the boys occasionally visited on 
 holidays was Bierley Park, about three miles from 
 Fulneck, and formerly the residence of Dr. Richard 
 Richardson*, whose '' Correspondence" with the eminent 
 botanists of his day was printed for private circulation 
 by Miss Currer, of Ecton Hall, in 1835. Montgomery 
 remembered noticing the uncommon flowers that had 
 survived the era of their original introduction and cul- 
 ture ; and especially the fine old cedar, of which there 
 is a print in the book above mentioned. 
 
 How easily and how vividly these juvenile rambles 
 were recalled to the poet's mind late in life will be 
 seen from the following extract of a letter addressed by 
 him to the Rev. J. A. Latrobe, of Kendal, in 1850: — 
 *^ This morning I have taken up the ^ Lays ' again, 
 and may add, summarily, that the ^ Roman Coliseum ' 
 and ' Kirkstall Abbey ' are truly picturesque, as well 
 as poetical. The latter made me young again ; and the 
 spirit of many romantic days, not dead but sleeping, 
 came upon me in the twilight of my old age (having 
 just closed my threescore-and-nineteenth year on the 
 4th of this month) ; they came upon me, I say, in that 
 beauty of ideality, which is the poetry of prose reali- 
 
 * An indiscretion attributed to this gentleman by local rumour, 
 or more probably to his son, Montgomery has transferred to his 
 character of Sir Solomon Sombre in the "Whisperer:" "During 
 the rebellion in the last reign, in a large circle of his jovial com- 
 panions, the intoxicated baronet toasted the unfortunate Chevalier 
 de St. George, who was at that time on his march toward the 
 capital. Though the toast was evidently given only in a frolic, it 
 had nearly cost him his life — he was committed to Newgate upon 
 suspicion of high treason/' &c. — No. LV. June 18, 1745. 
 
 E 4 
 
5G MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 ties, disembodied and sainted by the remembrance that 
 such things were, — and were to us most dear and pre- 
 cious. An old Fuhieck scholar visited me a few days 
 ago, and, your book lying before me, I read that passage, 
 and we spent ' a holiday afternoon ' in a trance of recol- 
 lecting that crowded into fifteen minutes the spoils of 
 memory gathered in youth, and hoarded like the miser's 
 treasure, to be often visited, ^counted and recounted,' 
 amidst all the changes of dying life." 
 
 The sameness of the ordinary school scenes at Ful- 
 neck was occasionally relieved by the presence of in- 
 teresting visitors, either Brethren from a distance, or 
 strangers attracted by the peculiarity of the establish- 
 ment. Although Montgomery did not recollect ever to 
 have seen the Rev. John Wesley, it appears from the 
 Journal of the latter, that he visited Fulneck, and was 
 shown by Mr. Moore entirely through the establishment, 
 with the exceptio7i of the schools ^ in April, 1780, which 
 was during Montgomery's residence there ; but, as he 
 afterwards remarked, the name of Mr. Wesley was an 
 unwelcome one among the boys, on account of what he 
 had said about the Moravians in his writings. In record- 
 ing the present visit, he says, after describing the social 
 arrangements of the Brethren : — ^^ I see not what but the 
 mighty power of God can hinder them from acquiring 
 millions; but can they lay up treasure on earth, and at 
 the same time lay up treasure in heaven ? " We be- 
 lieve they did the latter, but certainly not the former. 
 
 We have heard Montgomery allude with pleasure to 
 his recollection of the visits of the Moravian Bishop 
 Watteville to the school at Fulneck. Johannes de 
 Watteville * was son-in-law to Count Zinzendorf, hav- 
 
 * Not far from the Pont de Thiele, about five miles from Neuf- 
 chatel, on the route towards Berne, lies the Chateau of Montmirail, 
 
THE '^HOLY kiss/' 57 
 
 ing married that nobleman's eldest daughter, Henrietta- 
 Benigna-Jastina. When these hnportant personages 
 visited the school, ^^ Brother Johannes" addressed the 
 boys *, and '' Sister Benigna " the girls : after which the 
 good bishop, whom our poet described as a large and 
 most venerable man, with a lofty, curled wig, kissed 
 the boys on both cheeks, his wife saluting the girls : 
 all the boys, however, likewise kissed her hand, f 
 Continental habits rendered the primitive ceremony of 
 the ^4ioly kiss" somewhat general among the early Mora- 
 vians, even in England : and we recollect one instance 
 in which Montgomery, many years after his settlement 
 in Sheffield, was rather unexpectedly saluted after this 
 ancient fashion, by two of the Brethren from abroad, 
 who called upon him. 
 
 There were in the school a number of children, from 
 different parts of the United Kingdom, but young 
 Montgomery was the only boy in his room from beyond 
 the Tweed. This circumstance to some of his school- 
 fellows was a source of mirth and ridicule ; and, with 
 *^ his tongue^ at least," according to an expression of his 
 own, he had ^^ to fight the battles of his country, against 
 every reproach that could be cast upon it in his pre- 
 
 formerly the property of a branch of the noble family of De WaU 
 teville. It has since been transferred to the Church of the United 
 Brethren, who have here a large and flourishing establishment for 
 the education of females." — Latrobe's Alpenstock^ p. 193. 
 
 * A striking exemplification of the efieets of the addresses of this 
 individual to the boys of Fulneck School, about twenty years 
 before Montgomery's time, occurs in Rondthaler's "Life of the 
 Moravian Missionary, Heckewelder," p. 30., edit. Philadelphia, 
 
 1847. 
 
 f The children had another reason for the pleasure with which 
 they anticipated a visit from these worthy Germans, besides the 
 counsel and the kisses ; — they did not fixil to bring with them a treat 
 of raisins, or some other sweets. 
 
58 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 seiice." His patriotic attachment was strongly con- 
 firmed, probably about this period, by a little incident, 
 which made an indelible impression on his mind, and 
 which he noticed, many years afterwards, at a public 
 dinner in commemoration of the birthday of Burns. 
 The late learned and venerable but eccentric Lord 
 Monboddo, on visiting Fulneck, was introduced by the 
 Moravian bishop to the seminary, and the names of 
 several of the boys were told over to him. To these 
 the old judge seemed to pay but little attention, till the 
 good bishop said, ^^ Here, my lord, is one of your 
 countrymen ; " at which he started, as from a 
 brown study, and, brandishing a large horsewhip over 
 Montgomery's head, cried out, ^^ I hope he will take 
 care that his country shall never be ashamed of him." 
 *^ This," said the poet, ^^ I never forgot; nor shall I 
 forget it while I live : I have, indeed, endeavoured so 
 to act hitherto, that my country might never have 
 cause to be ashamed of me, — nor will I, on my part, 
 ever be ashamed of her." * 
 
 * There is no truth in a statement which has appeared in print 
 to the effect that his lordship presented to the boy a copy of the 
 poems of Burns. 
 
59 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 1783—1788. 
 
 OCCASIONAL CONTACT OF THE PUPILS IN FULNECK SCHOOL WITH PO- 
 LITICAL NEWS. — APPREHENSION OF A YISIT FROM RIOTERS AT THE 
 ESTABLISHMENT. — MONTGOMERY'S ODE TO SOLITUDE. — OTHER PRO- 
 JECTED AND ATTEMPTED JUVENILE POEMS. THE WORLD. ALFRED. 
 
 POEMS ON THE LAST JUDGMENT. ENGLISH HEXAMETERS. 
 
 CASTLE OF IGNORANCE. — NATIVE GENIUS AND EDUCATION. — MONT- 
 GOMERY'S INVINCIBLE ATTACHMENT TO POETICAL PURSUITS. — THE 
 BRETHREN GIVE UP THE HOPE OF EDUCATING HEVI AS A MINISTER. 
 
 MOLTHER, THE MORAVIAN. MONTGOMERY PLACED IN A RETAIL 
 
 SHOP AT IVHRFIELD. — HIS FONDNESS FOR IVIUSIC. 
 
 Notwithstanding the anxious and jealous care of the 
 guardians of the school at Fulneck to keep the boys 
 intact from the world without, the religious routine of 
 the establishment was occasionally exposed to other 
 than poetic, or even pacific interferences. The belli- 
 gerent spirit, at that time so rife in America, as well as 
 in Europe, found, indeed, no distinct echo in the peace- 
 ful seclusion; but the battle of Bunker's Hill, the war 
 in Germany, and the riots of Lord George Gordon in 
 London, were events which forced themselves into the 
 conversations of the pupils as well as of the teachers. 
 The Gordon riots became a specific cause of real terror : 
 for, as it was very easy — not to say natural — for an 
 ignorant and fanatic rabble to believe or pretend that 
 the Moravians were, if not actually papists, yet po- 
 pishly inclined, a mob-visitation was, for some days in 
 the spring of 1780, hourly expected at the settlement, 
 where various modes of flight and concealment were 
 discussed and contemplated. Happily, the threatened 
 
60 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 mischief did not occur ; and when it was remarked to 
 Montgomery, that, at any rate, the insm^gents would 
 not have found any symbols of superstition there ^ he 
 replied, ^* No ; unless they had regarded and denounced 
 as such a large picture of the Entombment of Christ, 
 in the dormitory of the single Brethren." This was 
 from the pencil of an old member of the Moravian 
 fraternity, named Brandt, who not only repeated the 
 subject for other places, but painted a series of pictures 
 illustrative of striking events in the early history of the 
 Church of the United Brethren. At a later period Mont- 
 gomery heard more about martial movements. One of 
 the teachers was a native of Prussia, and from him 
 the boys first heard of the name of Maria Theresa, the 
 suflferings of Baron Trenck, and the death of Frederick 
 the Great in 1786. 
 
 The little bickerings of the sensitive Scottish boy 
 with his schoolfellows, which seldom amounted to any 
 thing serious, had no tendency to impede the progress 
 of his mind in one direction at least. To the little 
 volume which he filled with eff*asions in verse prior to 
 the tenth year of his age, he added, before he completed 
 his twelfth, two more^ which were equally filled. The 
 best of these schoolboy productions have been justly 
 considered as, on the whole, more remarkable for bold- 
 ness of conception than felicity of expression. The fol- 
 lowing is a specimen : — 
 
 Night Scene^ from an Ode to Solitude. 
 
 " Let me wander slow, and rove, 
 Through the solitary grove ; 
 Universal silence reio:ns. 
 Save where Philomel complains, 
 And the turtle for the fate 
 Of his lately murdered mate. 
 
ODE TO SOLITUDE. 61 
 
 But hark ! what lamentable sound 
 Echoes through the groves around ? 
 Sailing through the fluttering air 
 The wailing owls the woodlands scare. 
 While thus musing on I stroll, 
 Flaming constellations roll 
 Quick towards the midnight goal. 
 Lost in mists obscurely dim, 
 The shadowy landscape seems to swim. 
 Cynthia, sister of old Night, 
 Gilds his sullen brow with light ; 
 Oft her modest face she shrouds 
 In a veil of silvery clouds. 
 Bursting forth with brighter beams, 
 As if washed in their white streams ; 
 Rides majestic o'er the sky. 
 While the clouds around her fly. 
 This is thy nocturnal dress. 
 Solitude ! sweet shepherdess." 
 
 Such was his fondness for poetical composition before 
 he left school, that he frequently retired to rest with a 
 subject on his mind, the completion of which he re- 
 solved to effect before he closed his eyes in sleep. 
 ^' This wakefulness," said he, ^' became a habit, which, 
 in after life, never wholly forsook me." 
 
 The inventive powers of the young bard were ever 
 in active operation ; and, imagining himself adequate 
 to produce something superior to merely lyrical com- 
 positions, he plumed his wings for a higher flight ; 
 and, hovering in delight over poetic ground, he at 
 length perceived a subject which forcibly struck him, 
 — seized upon it with the avidity with which the de- 
 scending eagle rushes on her prey, and bore it away to 
 the solitude of his study. What occupied his mind 
 and his pen, in this instance, was a mock-heroic poem, 
 in imitation of Homer's Frogs and Mice ! This he 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 composed before he was fourteen years old, in three 
 books, which contained more than a thousand lines. 
 Other heroic poems were planned and begun by him ; 
 but they were generally discarded for newly presented 
 and more attractive subjects. 
 
 Having been taught select portions of Virgil, he 
 began an eclogue, in imitation of that poet, before he 
 had attained his eleventh year. Another school poem, 
 which he commenced at a somewhat later period, and 
 which he retouched even after his settlement at Shef- 
 field, was entitled ^^ The World," and was intended to 
 comprise an epitome of moral, religious, and civil 
 history ! On our once remarking to him that he had 
 taken an extensive range, ^^ O yes," said he, smiling, 
 '^ Commencer au commencement — I began with the 
 beginning — with man in Paradise." Holland: '^ Had 
 you read ^ Paradise Lost,' when you conceived the 
 idea of your poem ?" Montgomery : ^* I had only seen 
 some extracts from it ; but I intended to outdo Milton ! 
 I meant, as I said, to begin at the beginning, or, rather, 
 earlier still ; for my plan contemplated a representation 
 of the Almighty, happy, and alone in the solitude of 
 eternity. I then conceived that the thought (to speak 
 humanly) should arise in the Divine Mind, that He 
 would create other beings to participate in his glory ; 
 and that, immediately on the exercise of infinite voli- 
 tion, angels were to come into being. I meant to 
 describe the battle between Michael and his angels, 
 and Satan and his legions ; and, at last, to engage these 
 hierarchs themselves in single combat to decide the 
 issue of the strife ; but, as they were both immortal, 
 I was somewhat at a loss how the arch-fiend was to be 
 vanquished. At length I hit upon what I thought a 
 happy expedient ; during the encounter, when Satan 
 assumed an unguarded position, Michael was to smite 
 
POEM OF ^^ALFKED.'' 63 
 
 off one of his wings, and he was to tumble down into 
 the abyss of darkness ! I well remember how I chuckled 
 over the idea of this notable feat/' 
 
 The period at length arrived — '^ sweet fifteen ! '' — 
 when, in the course of his historical reading, he found 
 a theme for song from which, after the commendation 
 he had received already, he expected to reap a harvest 
 of praise — the subject was the wars of ^^ Alfred the 
 Great." Alfred has engaged the thoughts of many a 
 nestling, and not a few veteran poets. Blackmore and 
 Pye are generally shelved — Cottle will occasionally be 
 read. 
 
 There are two other names associated with poetical 
 celebrations of the Anglo-Saxon hero — Sadler and 
 Fitchett.* ^^ After all that has been said and done,'' 
 said Montgomery, late in life, ^^ Alfred is a fine subject 
 for an epic in every respect. The character of the 
 king is one in which every Englishman feels an interest. 
 The leading events of his life, at the most remarkable 
 and heroic period of it more especially, fall within a 
 suflSciently brief period of time for concentrated poetic 
 action ; while the institutions which he founded or con- 
 solidated, may be said not only to have long survived 
 him in their existence and influence, but to mould at 
 least in some degree our municipal usages at the present 
 moment. I had myself brilliant thoughts and schemes 
 about Alfred, when very young, and I still think the 
 subject an available one for a poet." On the topic 
 being recalled by a passage in the Life of M. T. Sadler, 
 Esq., published in 1842, Montgomery adverted to a re- 
 port, once current, to the effect that Sadler had actually 
 received an offer of 2000 guineas for his poem of 
 
 ♦ Fitchett's " Life of King Alfred, a Poem," edited by Roscoe, 
 6 vols. 8vo., published at 31. 3s. 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 ^^ Alfred;" the rumour, however, appeared to rest on 
 no sohd foundation. Montgomery added, that on one 
 occasion, when Humphrey Sandwith drove him out in 
 a gig from Burlington to Flamborough, he beguiled 
 several miles of the way by reciting scores of lines 
 from Sadler's poem, which was written in imitation of 
 the style of Pope's version of Homer. 
 
 The rhyming attempts already mentioned were 
 mostly in the common heroic measure ; but our young 
 poet now determined to quit the beaten track, and pursue 
 a course of his own. His *^ Alfred " was to consist of a 
 series of Pindaric odes, in which the story was to be 
 developed ; the youthful poet conceiving it possible to 
 unite the orderly sublimity and magnificence of the epic 
 with the glowing enthusiasm exhibited in the two 
 grand odes of Dry den. 
 
 ^^This," says the writer of a memoir in the New 
 Monthly Magazine, ^^ was truly boyish daring; but 
 it was the daring of a boy of genius. The first scintil- 
 lations of genius are valuable to those best able to 
 estimate the gem, when it has attained the polish of 
 experience ; and even the still-born progeny of such an 
 intellect as that of Montgomery, which were conceived 
 before his strength was able to bring them to maturity, 
 must be interesting. To prove that they were so, the 
 writer of this brief memoir feels happy in recollecting 
 what he was once told, on undoubted authority, was the 
 subject of the first and second odes of the contemplated 
 poem already mentioned. It commenced whilst Alfred 
 was in the Isle of Athelney, disguised as a peasant, and 
 the first ode opened with a description of the Almighty 
 seated upon his throne, looking down and commi- 
 serating the ruins of England, when a host of the spirits 
 of Englishmen, who had just perished in a battle with 
 the Danes, appeared in his presence to receive their 
 
POEMS ON THE LAST JUDGMENT. 65 
 
 eternal doom ! These spirits described the state of 
 their country, and implored the Sovereign of the 
 Universe to interpose and deliver it from despotism. 
 Such wsis the opening of the juvenile epic ! It was a 
 fearless flight ! And though it fell abortive, the bold- 
 ness of the conception must have convinced the conduc- 
 tors of Fulneck Academy, that their pupil was of no 
 common fashion." The foregoing description is from the 
 words of Montgomery, in a letter to a friend ; and is, 
 with the MS. of the poem itself, now before us : the 
 latter exhibits only two books of odes, out of the 
 twenty originally contemplated. 
 
 The following conversation, which refers to his 
 poetry and his opinions at this juvenile period, will 
 further illustrate the bent and assiduity of his mincl, 
 which was secretly but intensely revolving, in its own 
 little sphere, various magnificent projects, to the detri- 
 ment of the more important but less attractive circle 
 of his school employments. Indeed, he was himself not 
 unconscious of this ; for while this boyish ambition of 
 fame was growing within him, his susceptible heart was 
 often perplexed and pierced with the meaning of two or 
 three sentences in the Litany affixed to the Hymn Book, 
 which he had hitherto read with a child-like simplicity 
 so suitable to its character: — ^^ Keep us, our dear 
 Lord and God — from untimely projects — from all loss 
 of our glory in Thee — from unhappily becoming 
 
 great." 
 
 liev. Thomas Smith: ^' Is there any good poem 
 on the General Judgment ? " Everett : '^ There is 
 Young's ^ Last Day.'" Montgomery : ^^ And there are 
 many fine passages in it ; but the subject, on the whole, 
 is hardly suitable for poetry : it affords one solid and 
 awful thought, to which you seem to feel incapable of 
 adding anything; and by merely expanding what is 
 
 VOL. I. ^ 
 
66 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 revealed, by adding imaginary details, you lessen its 
 dignity and impair its effect. Though often touched 
 upon by poets, the theme can seldom be pursued at 
 length, without insuring failure. There is a single pas- 
 sage in the ^ Night Thoughts/ on this subject, where 
 Young is more striking than in his ^ Last Day,' — 
 
 " ' Amazing period ! when each mountain-height 
 Outburns Vesuvius ; rocks eternal pour ^ 
 
 Their melted mass, as rivers once they pour'd: 
 Stars rush, and final Ruin fiercely drives 
 Her ploughshare o'er Creation.' — Night Thoughts^ B. ix. 
 
 ** Indeed," he added, ^^ it is inimitable. I recollect my- 
 self writing an ^ Ode on the General Judgment,' which 
 I have yet by me. It was a juvenile essay; for the 
 subject is one on which young poets are often tempted 
 to exercise their skill — or prove their want of it." 
 Everett : '^ Was it ever printed ?" Montgomery : ^' No ; 
 I wrote it at school before I was sixteen, and when I 
 was so full of poetry." Smith : '' Have you seen 
 Southey's ^Vision of Judgment,' in English hexa- 
 meters ?" Montgomery : " Yes." Smith : '^ How has he 
 succeeded?" Montgomery : ^^ Much as I suppose any 
 man of classical taste and metrical skill w^ould have done, 
 even had the subject itself been less obviously unpropi- 
 tious. The fact is, it seems impossible for any one, 
 strictly speaking, to succeed in such an attempt, if by 
 success be meant to give pleasure to general readers. 
 Of course, hexameter verses may be constructed in 
 English: I began a poem in that style myself when 
 about seventeen years of age." Everett : ^' What w^as the 
 subject. Sir?" Montgomery: ^^ Oh, it was the ^Castle 
 of Ignorance;' its hero Rinaldo ; and its plan the pro- 
 gress of the human mind, and the development of 
 genius, operating upon the life of man, in conduct 
 
ENGLISH HEXAMETEES. &7 
 
 morals^ and happiness, through a variety of modifica- 
 tions, I composed about one hundred and fifty verses ; 
 but found the English language — or at least, my com- 
 mand of it — to be incapable of successful adaptation to 
 the ancient metre." Holland: '^ I have often w^ondered 
 that any person, having an ear for the modulations of 
 English verse, should think of constructing lines in it 
 according to the hexameter scale." Montgomery : ^' I do 
 not wonder at it. One can scarcely read the original text 
 of Homer and Virgil, and enter into the spirit of the 
 composition, without believing it possible to produce 
 something of similar efiect in our language. My poem 
 commenced thus : — 
 
 " ' Wars and adventures I sing, of knights, whose renowned 
 
 achievements 
 Vanquished the mighty hosts of wild Superstition and 
 
 Ignorance, 
 And with a conquering arm and courage undaunted, broke 
 
 open 
 The seven-fold portals of brass that led to the castle's 
 
 recesses, 
 Where in deep dungeons the Arts were fettered in 
 
 chains adamantine, 
 Bound to the floor/ &c. 
 
 ^' Now, you will perceive, it is hardly possible for any 
 one to read these few lines without the proper accent- 
 uation, whether acquainted with the Latin quantities or 
 not : but it would be far otherwise in a poem of any 
 considerable length." 
 
 The smile excited by this discovery of the nestling 
 poet, as to the inadaptability of his native tongue for 
 hexameter verse, with which he daringly attempted 
 to plume his genius in this early essay, will most 
 likely be succeeded by an expression of surprise, that 
 any boy should have thought of composing in a 
 
 F 2 
 
68 MEMOIES OF JAMES MOKTGOMEEY. 
 
 metre apparently so foreign to the genius of English 
 versification, and of which we hardly see how he could 
 have met with a single example in his reading. Much 
 less was he likely, at this age, to have imbued his mind 
 with that knowledge of, and taste for, the ancient metres, 
 which is generally consequent upon having long studied 
 and deeply relished the peculiar beauties of the classical 
 poets in the originals. That Southey should have 
 failed, where no one else had completely succeeded, is 
 less strange, than that he should have hazarded an 
 attempt in a style — to say nothing of the subject — 
 where comparative success, from all that we have seen, 
 was not worth attaining; and it was thought, at the 
 time, that whatever merit belonged to the experiment, 
 it was dearly purchased at the price of having only done 
 hettei^ than others, what nobody ever did, or perhaps 
 ever will do ivell. Dr. Johnson's remark, that '^ blank 
 verse is only poetry to the eye," appears far more appli- 
 cable to what are termed ^^ English hexameters;" the 
 latter being very liable to be read by the uninitiated as 
 hobbling prose. 
 
 With a due regard for the ancient dictum — Poeta 
 nascitur^ non Jit — and for the various popular defini- 
 tions of genius as distinct from the other powers of 
 the mind, it must be admitted that the aggregate of 
 mankind are, in character, generally what they are made 
 by education ; or what they are suffered to become 
 from the want of it. These useful, but commonplace 
 individuals, compose what may be termed neutral tints 
 in the great picture of civil society ; thev present, in 
 mass, those sober hues upon which the eye reposes with- 
 out effort, and commonly with satisfaction, after it has 
 expatiated upon the bold and striking features of the fore- 
 ground of the moral and intellectual landscape. Even 
 of those who have occupied distinguished positions 
 
XATIYE GENIUS AND EDUCATION. 69 
 
 among their fellow-men, few, comparatively, manifested 
 during their boyhood any clear and unequivocal indica- 
 tions of that ruling propensity, which opened and ripened 
 into ultimate superiority. He has not always ^^ lisped 
 in numbers," who, from a peculiar organisation, or 
 some other cause, is destined to become a true poet: 
 instances innumerable, however, occur of a contrary 
 kind ; and where that impulse which has afterwards be- 
 come the master passion of the mind, has strongly ma- 
 nifested itself during the earliest years, and mingled 
 with the first studies of individuals whose subsequent 
 lives have but illustrated the ruling predisposition. 
 Such, the reader will already have perceived, was espe- 
 cially the case with Montgomery : nurtured in the bosom 
 of a religious people, particularly addicted to psalmody, 
 a fondness for which he may be said to have imbibed 
 with his mother's milk ; and inheriting, as he did, that 
 peculiar constitutional temperament which has generally 
 been allowed to be favourable to the access of poetical 
 — not to say religious — impressions under these circum- 
 stances, it was not at all remarkable that he should at- 
 tempt the composition of hymns in the style of those he 
 was in the habit of committing to memory, and hearing 
 sung. The seeds of early piety, cast into such a soil, 
 were very likely to germinate, grow up, and unfold into 
 those little poetical blossoms before mentioned. But 
 that hexameter verses, Pindaric odes, and juvenile epics, 
 should have been successively projected and proceeded 
 with — saplings of thought that betrayed a deeper intel* 
 lectual mould in which they might attain the magni- 
 ficent breadth of the oak, or the elegant altitude of the 
 pine — these, as already remarked, might have indicated 
 to the conductors of Fulneck School, that their pupil was 
 a boy of no common order. This, indeed, they readily 
 discovered; and, with a laudable and Christian zeal, 
 
 F 3 
 
70 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEEY. 
 
 tliey sought to inspire him with motives and feelings 
 calculated to heighten his veneration for that important 
 ministerial profession to which his parents had so 
 piously devoted him, and of their own sincere regard for 
 which they had given so noble and unequivocal a proof 
 in their perilous missionary enterprise. 
 
 With the most complacent gratitude, he received the 
 counsels and admonitions of friends by whom he knew 
 that he was beloved ; but in the recesses of his own 
 heart, he cherished a secret ambition — the first yearn- 
 ings of that '' immeiisa cupido^^ which he could perhaps 
 no more have voluntarily extinguished, than he could 
 have created it : like his own Javariy in the ^' World 
 before the Flood;" — 
 
 ^' Meanwhile excursive fancy longed to view 
 The world, which yet by fame alone he knew ; 
 The joys of freedom were his daily theme; 
 Glory the secret of his midnight dream ; — 
 That dream he told not though his heart would ache." 
 
 With deep regret the good Moravian Brethren wit- 
 nessed the growing tendency to silent and mysterious 
 abstraction, which every day rendered but more and 
 more conspicuous and incurable in their pupil. Al- 
 though poetry is not mentioned in connection with 
 Montgomery's name in the Fulneck School Diary, 
 before alluded to, it does contain some significant 
 entries of an unsatisfactory character. After recording, 
 under date of March 4th, 1786, that '' it was determined 
 J. Montgomery was to remain in the school, and be 
 prepared for a teacher in the same : when this was told 
 him, he seemed to be pleased with it''— the Diarist 
 notices, under May 2nd, 1787, '' complaints that J. M. 
 was not using proper diligence in his studies, and was 
 admonished on the subject ; " and on July ord, ^^ as 
 
MOLTHER^ THE MOKAVIAN, 71 
 
 J. M., notwithstanding repeated admonitions, has not 
 been more attentive^ it was resolved to put him to a 
 business, at least for a time." The fact is, as Mont- 
 gomery himself once told Mr. Holland in plain terms — 
 he was '^ turned out of the school at Fulneck/' on account 
 of alleged indolence. The individual at whose more im- 
 mediate instance this course, doubtless so important in 
 the future history of the poet, was adopted, was a German 
 teacher of the name of Molther, son of the preacher of 
 that name, so often mentioned in Mr. Wesley's Journal; 
 and whose antinomian eccentricities, whatever their 
 bearing on his own conduct, were the occasion of so 
 much scandal to the Moravian cause in his day. 'There 
 is a hymn by the senior Molther, in the Brethren's 
 collection ; and his son, the teacher in question, appears 
 to have been musical, as he gave Montgomery lessons 
 on the harpsichord, sometimes striking him and the 
 other boys, when in a passion, with his fiddlestick. 
 But if the poet did not retain a pleasing recollection of 
 Molther, there was another of the teachers, Mr. Foster, 
 a man of fine intellect, and afterwards a bishop in the 
 Brethren's church, of whom he always spoke with both 
 respect and gratitude. 
 
 All hope of seeing the wayward boy become a minis- 
 ter of religion, being now at an end, the Brethren 
 resolved to place him in a situation which might, by 
 the employment it would afiford, divert his mind from 
 those day-dreams of fame and ambition which had so 
 fully possessed it. He was accordingly placed, prepa- 
 ratory to an intended apprenticeship, with a person of 
 the name of Lockwood, a worthy man, and a member 
 of the Moravian fraternity, who kept a retail shop at 
 Mirfield, near Fulneck. This arrangement, so unpro- 
 mising in itself, and so important in its issue, removed 
 James Montgomery at once and for ever from those 
 
 F 4 
 
72 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 studies and objects of the Christian ministry to which 
 liis parents had so fondly devoted him ; and over which, 
 had his training been less unsuccessful^ he might, in 
 the midst of his own people, at least, have shed a 
 becoming lustre. Perhaps it might not be safe to 
 speculate much on this point; but it may at least 
 fairly be doubted whether — assuming the highest esti- 
 mate of him as a Moravian preacher — he would ever 
 have been so variously and extensively useful and disin- 
 terested a minister of religion in the pulpit, as he be- 
 came through so many years, and in so many ways, in 
 the situation providentially appointed as the sphere for 
 the exercise of his abilities : but we shall encounter 
 this question again. Meanwhile, it is right to state 
 that, in after life, he never ceased to deplore this coun- 
 teraction of parental hopes and preceptorial aims, as 
 a sin against God. It is this early errancy from the 
 religious orbit, which is, no doubt, symbolised in the 
 following poetical fragment : — - 
 
 '' A star from heaven once went astray *, 
 
 A planet beautiful and bright; 
 Which to the sun's diviner ray 
 
 Owed all its beauty and its light ; 
 Yet deemed, when self-sufficient grown, 
 Its borrowed glory all its own. 
 
 ^' A secret impulse urged its course, 
 
 As by a demon-power possest, 
 With rash, unheeding, headlong force, 
 
 It wildly wandered seeking rest ; 
 Till far beyond the solar range 
 It underwent a fearful change. 
 
 * The poet has made use of this sentiment in an affecting passage 
 of his Lifeof Tasso. — Lardner's Cahinet of Biograpliy^ Art. Tasso^ 
 p. 154. 
 
FONDNESS FOR MUSIC. 73 
 
 ^^ Dim as it went its lustre grew. 
 
 Till utter darkness v/rapt it round, 
 
 And slow and slower as it flew. 
 
 Failure of warmth and strength it found ; 
 
 Congealed into a globe of ice, 
 
 It seemed cast out of Paradise. 
 
 " At length amidst the abyss of space, 
 Beyond attraction's marvellous spell, 
 It lost the sense of time and place, 
 
 And thought itself invisible : 
 Though suns and systems rolled afar, 
 Without companions went that star." 
 
 Of the conduct of Montgomery behind the counter 
 we never heard much : he did not remain there more 
 than a year and a half: he had little to do, and still less 
 inclination for the employment, such as it was. While 
 there, he composed a large part of the poem of ^^ Alfred ; " 
 and among his smaller pieces, a metrical version of the 
 113th Psalm, which, many years afterwards, was pub- 
 lished, with some verbal alterations, in the collection 
 now in use, under the auspices of the Archbishop of 
 York, in various churches in his diocese, and elsewhere. 
 
 It has been already stated, that music was among the 
 accomplishments attempted in the education of Mont- 
 gomery at Fulneck ; and to the charm arising from the 
 ^^ concord of sweet sounds,^' almost universally acknow- 
 ledged by the young, and specially cultivated and con- 
 secrated among the Moravians, he was neither insensible 
 nor inattentive. Indeed, next to poetry, his favourite 
 recreation was music ; and amidst the too abundant 
 leisure which his situation in the little retail shop of the 
 *^ Fine Bread Baker," at Mirfield, afforded, he used to 
 ^' misspend his time '' (as he expressed himself to us, 
 when he referred to this period), '^ in the composition 
 
74 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 of music." Several pieces, arranged by him, were per- 
 formed with the assistance of his companions, our tyro 
 himself being the leader of these juvenile concerts. He 
 was at this time^ to use his own expression, ^^ music 
 mad ; and used to blow his brains out with a hautboy." 
 His ear was by nature exquisitely tuned ; and his taste 
 and judgment relative to melody and harmony very 
 correct ; and there is little doubt that to this early initia- 
 tion into a knowledge of this art, the smoothness of his 
 versification was much indebted. 
 
75 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 1788—1790. 
 
 RESTLESSNESS OF YOUTHFUL GENIUS. — MONTGOMERY RUNS AWAY 
 
 FROM MIRFIELD. — HIS IGNORANCE OF THE WORLD. REACHES 
 
 ROTHERHAJVI. INTERVIEW WITH EARL FITZ WILLI AM AT WENT- 
 
 WORTII. THE VILLAGE INN. — ATTRACTS THE ATTENTION OF A 
 
 CASUAL VISITOR. — AGREES TO ACCEPT A SITUATION AT WATH. 
 
 AFFECTING INTERVIEW AVITII HIS LATE MASTER. ROTHERHAM. 
 
 PAINE's iron bridge. THE VILLAGE OF WATH. CHRISTENING 
 
 OF LORD MILTON AT WENTWORTH HOUSE. MR. BRAMELD. MR. 
 
 HUNT AND HIS FAMILY. MONTGOMERY'S PRAYER FOR MRS. HUNT. 
 
 GOES TO LONDON. 
 
 The good Moravian with whom Montgomery was placed 
 at Mirfield * attended the preaching of the Brethren in 
 that village, where the shop-boy, we are afraid, was 
 not always found with his master; at least, they were not 
 together there on the 19th of June, 1789 ; for on a fine 
 Sunday morning of that date, having packed up a few 
 things, including his MS. poetry, he slipped away from 
 the house, and soon found himself on the high road. 
 
 Perhaps the most interesting — certainly the most 
 authentic — account of the next movement of our hero, 
 must be in his own words, as they lie before us in his 
 own writing. ^^ Here" — at Mirfield — ^'having very little 
 to do but to amuse myself, I grevi^ more unhappy and 
 
 * This village acquired a melancholy celebrity in 1847, when a 
 respectable aged man, his wife, and their maid-servant, had their 
 throats cut, in their own house, in the middle of a summer's day ! 
 For this horrid triple murder, two Irish hawkers were tried, con- 
 demned, and one of them executed at York. 
 
76 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMEKY. • 
 
 discontented than ever: in an evil hour I determined to 
 break loose and see the world, I was not bound [by 
 indentures of apprenticeship] to my master, and knew 
 that, if I left him, the Moravians could not compel me 
 to return to him, though I was only sixteen years old. 
 You will smile, and wonder too, when I inform you 
 that I was such a fool as to run away from my master, 
 with the clothes on my back, a single change of linen, 
 and three and sixpence in my pocket. I had just got 
 a new suit of clothes ; but as I had only been a short 
 time with my good master, I did not think my little 
 services had earned them. I therefore left him in my 
 old ones ; and thus, at the age of sixteen, set out 
 James Montgomery, to begin the world ! " Like Ras- 
 selas, he had quitted the happy valley, which had only 
 produced unhappiness in him^ because, like the Abyssi- 
 nian prince, his expanding mind felt itself a prisoner, 
 and sighed after the freedom, the learning, and the 
 splendours of the world wdthout. But, alas for him 1 
 no guardian Imlac was at his side ; and he had no 
 sooner fairly quitted the hospitable roof of his indulgent 
 master, than he saw, as well as felt, that 
 
 " The world was all before him, where to choose 
 His seat of rest, and Providence his guide." 
 
 Free he certainly was ; and perhaps, for the first time 
 in his life, felt himself really so ; but of the road before 
 him he knew not a yard, nor a single person whom he 
 wished or expected to meet. But the restlessness of 
 youthful genius impelled him ; and if he sometimes 
 looked behind him, it was with no intention of return- 
 ing to a home where he had met with nothing but kind- 
 ness, however little those who knew him best might 
 interpret the ambitious stirrings of '' his spirit within 
 him " as the presentiment of a higher destiny. 
 
HIS IGNORANCE OF THE WORLD* 77 
 
 In thus going forth, ^^ not knowing whither he went/' 
 we believe he had only the vague aim to ^^ go south :" 
 certain it is, that any idea of reaching the town which 
 afterwards became his life-long residence, never entered 
 his mind ; indeed he had never heard it mentioned but 
 once, and that was in the reading of a letter from a 
 schoolfellow, who had made the then formidable journey 
 from Fulneck to Ockbrook. ^' Sheffield," said the boy, 
 *^ is an ugly town, in a great black hole, where forty 
 gentlemen are building a very large public-house!'"'^' 
 Still he might have come to Sheffield by chance ; for at 
 Wakefield, where the main road branches east and 
 west, he, after some deliberation, took the latter, and 
 at the close of the day found himself at Doncaster, — 
 instead of at Sheffield, whither his kind master, starting 
 in pursuit of the fugitive, and taking the other road, had 
 gone to seek him. The next morning he started afresh 
 on an equally unknown road, and, towards evening, 
 entered a small public- house at Went worth, a very 
 humble hamlet under the shadow of the palatial resi- 
 dence of Earl Fitzwilliam — a house which he, at that 
 time, little anticipated he w^ould afterwards visit as an 
 honoured guest. 
 
 He was at this little public-house, when a youth of 
 the name of Hunt, who had come to Wentworth on an 
 errand for his father from the neighbouring village of 
 Wath, called to get a pint of beer. Seeing a strange 
 youth in the room, with a small bundle beside him, and 
 apparently not easy in his situation, he addressed him, 
 and soon found that he wanted a place. The villager, 
 finding that the wanderer had been in a shop, said that 
 his father, who had an establishment at Wath, wanted 
 an assistant ; and here he determined to apply the next 
 
 * The Tontine Inn, erected 1783. 
 
78 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 day. He did so ; and Mr. Hunt agreed to engage him, 
 provided the consent of his late master and his Mora- 
 vian guardians could be obtained. He therefore re- 
 turned to Wentvvorth, wrote to his friends, and awaited 
 the result. Meanwhile, according to the testimony of 
 Mr. Hunt, the following incident occurred : — Aware of 
 his proximity to Wentworth House, and probably 
 having heard something of the affable and generous 
 character of its noble owner — the late Earl Fitzwilliam, 
 — he conceived a truly poetical project — which was no 
 other than the presentation of a copy of verses to his 
 lordship, in person! Having ascertained that the noble 
 earl was at home, and might often be met riding through 
 his domains, our young adventurer, with a fluttering 
 heart in his bosom, and a fairly transcribed copy of his 
 poem in his pocket, proceeded to Wentworth Park, 
 where he had the good fortune to meet his lordship. 
 Amidst the confusion and agitation which it may be 
 conceived he felt at this delicate crisis, he did present 
 the verses to Earl Fitzwilliam, who, with characteristic 
 condescension, read them on the spot, and immediately 
 presented to the gratified author a golden guinea. This 
 was the first profit, as well as the first patronage, which 
 Montgomery's poetry ever procured ; and w^e cannot 
 record this anecdote — even though it may be somewhat 
 apocryphal in its details — without a passing tribute of 
 respect for the memory of an illustrious nobleman, with 
 whose virtues we were well acquainted. According to 
 local tradition, this incident, apparently so trivial in the 
 annals of his lordship's munificence, led first to a resi- 
 dence in the neighbourhood of Wentworth, afterwards 
 at Sheffield, thence to the ultimate respectability of the 
 subject of these Memoirs, who ever cherished, and on 
 all occasions expressed, the most sincere respect for 
 Earl Fitzwilliam. 
 
paine's iron bridge. 79 
 
 While at Rotlierham, with a curiosity not unnatural 
 in a youth who, although he must have heard and read 
 about cannon, had probably never seen one, he visited, 
 in the Masbro' suburb of that town, the celebrated es- 
 tablishment of the Messrs. Walker, to witness the opera- 
 tions of casting, boring, and turning heavy ordnance. 
 There he saw, too, what interested him at least as much as 
 the great guns — an iron bridge, which had been cast and 
 framed after a model by the notorious Thomas Paine, 
 who had some sort of connection with this establishment 
 in 1788* ; after w^hich date, this bridge was experiment- 
 ally set up in London, but in the end returned to the 
 foundry as old metal. On the same premises, many 
 years afterwards, the present Southwark Bridge was 
 cast, and temporarily erected, previous to its removal to 
 the metropolis. 
 
 To return to Montgomery, who shall give the result 
 of his appeal to his friends in his own words : — 
 
 ^^ When I had been on my travels about four days, I 
 then wrote, as I had always intended to do, to my mas- 
 ter ; indeed, I left a letter behind me, declaring, in 
 plain terms, the uneasiness of my mind, and saying that 
 he should soon hear from me. I wrote to him to require 
 a character, or recommendation to a situation which I 
 had heard of; conscious that no moral guilt could be 
 laid to my charge, and that in all my dealings I had served 
 him with the strictest integrity. My master laid my letter 
 before the council of Moravian ministers, who meet at 
 Fulneck to regulate the affairs of their society ; and they 
 unanimously agreed to write any recommendation for 
 me which I might require, if I obstinately persisted in 
 my resolution of leaving them; but instructed him to 
 make me any offers, and, if possible, to bring me back 
 
 * Rickmans Life of Paine, pp. 83. 164. ; Porcupine's Paine, p, 38. 
 
80 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 again.* He came to me, in person, at Rotherham, where 
 I waited for an answer. I was so affected by his ap- 
 pearance, that I ran to meet him in the inn-yard ; and he 
 was so overwhehned with tenderness at the sight of me, 
 tliat we clasped each other's arms as he sat on horseback, 
 and remained weeping, without speaking a word, for 
 some time, to the great amusement of many — very 
 many spectators." The spectators may have been 
 amused with the sight ; but we think the reader 
 will be affected by the record of such an evidence of 
 mutual esteem between parties so circumstanced. Mont- 
 gomery proceeds : — '^ It required all my resolution to 
 resist his entreaties and persuasions to return ; but I at 
 length overcame ; and when he left me the next day, he 
 gave a very handsome written character, and also called 
 himself on my future employer to recommend me to him. 
 He also supplied me with money, and sent my clothes 
 and other things which I had left behind. "| 
 
 * We direct attention to the kindness and consideration here 
 displayed, under circumstances of extreme provocation, because 
 many animadversions, and some vituperations, have been directed 
 against the worthy preceptors at Fulneck, on the ground that tiiey 
 failed to recognise in their wayward pupil clear premonitions of a 
 poetical genius, and to square their instructions accordingly ; but 
 surely, to say nothing of the vagueness of such boyish tastes in 
 general, men who felt they had a high religious mission to fulfil, 
 mio-ht well have been excused for seeking to mould him to the 
 pattern of their own simple piety, and in conformity to the wish of 
 his parents, rather than help to realise the dangerous dreams of 
 worldly ambition ; and the more so. Inasmuch' as they must 
 have felt convinced that the church to which they belonged di- 
 rected schemes of enterprise In Its missionary fields, to which the 
 most ardent and enthusiastic, as well as the most patient and plod- 
 ding spirits might repair, even if the community at home had pre- 
 sented no sanctifying channel for the efliux of the " a7^dor mentis 
 in glo7^iamy 
 
 t Letter to Aston, dated " York Castle, Ap. 5. 1796." After 
 the words quoted above, the writer adds — " What has befallen me 
 
THE VILLAGE OF WATH. 81 
 
 Wath — ^^ the Queen of Villages," as this temporary 
 resting-place of Montgomery was sometimes designated 
 by the pardonable partiality of the native inhabitants, — 
 is very pleasantly situated in an open, fertile valley, and 
 on the banks of a canal which derives its name from the 
 little rivers ^^ Dearne and Dove/' about midwav between 
 Barnsley and Conisborough, and within three miles of 
 Wentworth House, Wath gave the title of Baron to 
 the first Marquis of Rockingham. At the period re- 
 ferred to, the habits of the villagers were almost as un- 
 sophisticated as their homes were apparently sequestered 
 from the rest of the world: nor had the old rustic 
 superstitions of their progenitors faded from the spot. 
 Invisible at nightfall, ^^ Gabriel's hounds " were often 
 heard yelping through the welkin ; stories were told, 
 and believed, of those who had been hardy enough to 
 ^^ watch the church" on St. Mark's eve ; and few were 
 the elders who had not either seen or heard ghosts ; and 
 fewer still, of the juniors especially, who did not expect 
 to do so. A May-pole occupied the site of the ancient 
 cross: there was a bell foundry in the village belonging 
 to a person of the name of Hilton ; and the execution 
 of a large casting was an event of almost as much in- 
 terest to the inhabitants as a similar occurrence is 
 among the mountaineers of the Hartz and other dis- 
 tricts of Germany. There are several bells bearing the 
 name of Hilton in the neighbourhood ; among the rest, 
 one or two in the fine peal at Darfield^, so remarkable 
 for their ^^ sweet silvery tone."* About thirty years 
 after the sojourn of Montgomery at Wath, a great 
 
 since belongs rather to my literary than to my religious life, which 
 I have now been sketching ; but you see now the meaning of my 
 expression, that I am only seven years old, having lived only so long 
 in fhe world since I left the Moravians." 
 
 * Hunter's South Yorkshire, vol. ii. p. ll7o 
 
 YOL. I. G 
 
82 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 change had taken place there as well as elsewhere ; but 
 perhaps it was, even then, the only village in England 
 where a monthly ^^ magazine " was published. In less 
 than twenty years more, the *^ march of intellect" im- 
 pressed on the vicinity one of the most signal evidences 
 of its progress, the formation of a railway. At this day 
 a passenger in the Midland train from London to Leeds 
 has hardly ceased to admire the fine old church of 
 Rotherham^ when he notices another but less con- 
 spicuous spire ; and presently he hears from an ofiicer, 
 or reads in large letters painted along the wall, the an- 
 nouncement, ^^ Wath Station.'^ 
 
 Mr. Hunt, into whose service the runaway was now 
 introduced, kept what might have been called *^ a gene- 
 ral store/' selling flour, shoes, cloth, groceries, and 
 almost every description of hard and soft ware, which 
 the inhabitants of Wath and the adjacent villages re- 
 quired: and it would be difficult to say what attractions 
 Montgomery found here as compared with his former 
 situation. He was indeed free : and as a bird escaped 
 from long confinement in a cage often alights on the 
 nearest bough, either in surprise at its liberty or to 
 preen itself for a farther flight, the youthful poet, no 
 doubt, felt that he was now in a position to make a 
 future movement with less difficulty. We have heard 
 him advert to the adventures of this week, as those 
 upon which most apparently the whole of his future life 
 turned ; '' for," said he, " had I taken the right instead 
 of the left-hand road at Wakefield, had I not crossed 
 over, I knew not why, to Wentworth, and had not 
 Joshua Hunt noticed me there, it is quite certain that 
 not a single occurrence of my future being, perhaps 
 not a single thought, would have been the same : the 
 direction of life's after current would have been entirely 
 changed ; whether for the better or the worse, who can 
 tell ? I only know that / did ivrong in running away.'' 
 
CHRISTENING OF LORD MILTON. 83 
 
 It was in the autumn of this year that the late George 
 the Fourth^ then Prince of Wales, after visiting several 
 noble families in the north of England, spent a day 
 or two at Wentworth ; on which occasion the most 
 splendid fete which perhaps ever took place in York- 
 shire was given. Not fewer than 40,000 persons were 
 treated in the Park with meat and drink, and also with a 
 sight of their future sovereign, who made his appearance 
 on a balcony in front of the house, with his godson (the 
 present Earl Fitzwilliam, then about three years old) 
 in his arms. It has been said that this royal visit was the 
 subject, and its date the period of presenting Mont- 
 gomery's verses*: but this appears more than improbable; 
 first, because there is a lapse of six weeks between the 
 poet's departure from Mirfield, on the 19th of July, and 
 the Prince's visit to Wentworth House, on the 2nd of 
 September, 1789; and, secondly, we have heard Mont- 
 gomery say explicitly, that he was not at Wentworth 
 on the occasion referred to, having ^^ staid by the stuff" 
 at Wath, while his master and almost every other per- 
 son in the village went to the fete. Of the alleged 
 interview with Earl Fitzwilliam he would never speak. 
 
 Although but little more than eighteen years of age, 
 Montgomery was remarkably grave, serious, and silent ; 
 exemplarily steady and industrious in his situation, 
 rarely associating with any of the villagers, but devoting 
 the whole of his leisure hours to reading and the com- 
 position of poetry. It will readily be supposed that an 
 important personage to him would be a bookseller, be- 
 cause this profession was associated in his mind with 
 
 * In the little volume of verses, published in 1802, by George 
 Hay Drummond, a son of the late Archbishop of York, will be 
 found an '' Ode performed at Wentworth House," before the 
 Prince of Wales, on the occasion referred to in the text : the 
 music was by Dr. Miller, of Doncaster. 
 
 G 2 
 
84 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 the publication of verse, with all its splendid and flatter- 
 ing concomitants. Such a friend he found in a Mr. 
 Brameld, who kept a small stationer's shop at Swinton, 
 adjacent to Wath. With him, Montgomery soon formed 
 an acquaintance, which tended to flatter and stimulate 
 the genius of the youthful poet. It should be men- 
 tioned, as creditable to his industry and prudence, that, 
 with the exception of these visits to Swinton, and once 
 when called upon by a Moravian friend, he never spent 
 an evening out of his master's house. Having resided 
 about a year at this place, his way to London was 
 prepared by the transmission of a volume of his MS. 
 poetry, accompanied by a letter from Brameld to Har- 
 rison the bookseller in Paternoster Row : in a few days 
 the poet followed, leaving with regret the family of Mr. 
 Hunt, where he had been treated with the utmost 
 attention and kindness.* 
 
 '^ That the family of Mr. Hunt should be warmly attached to 
 Montgomery is not surprising, for he united to the industry 
 and fidelity of the servant the meekness of the Christian ; and 
 such was the ascendancy the grace of God had obtained over 
 his spirit, even amidst the stirrings of poetical ambition, and such 
 the opinion entertained of his piety, that he wrote a prayer at the 
 request and for the use of his mistress, who was labouring under a 
 severe affliction ; which prayer, in the handwriting of Montgomery, 
 was kindly communicated to us by Miss Hunt, granddaughter of 
 the lady. The prayer, which we here subjoin, carries its own evi- 
 dence of the principles instilled into his mind by his Moravian 
 preceptors, whose favourite theme is — a theme on which it would 
 be impious to be indifferent, and upon which we cannot too often 
 dwell — the love of a suffering Saviour ; and seems to indicate also, 
 from the circumstance of its containing as much of instruction as 
 petition^ that he considered Mrs. Hunt but imperfectly initiated 
 into the great doctrines of the Christian faith : — 
 
 '* O ! Father of Eternity, Lord of Heaven and Earth, most 
 humbly we desire to offer up our poor but best acknowledgments 
 for the numberless instances of thy mercies and favours conferred 
 upon us, thine unworthy creatures. Above all, we adore thy un- 
 deserved love, in giving up thy only Son out of thy bosom to be 
 
PRAYER FOR MRS. HUNT. 85 
 
 As already mentioned, a belief in the existence of 
 ghosts was, at the period of Montgomery's sojourn, very 
 
 a sacrifice for us, when we were aliens to God and rebels ao^ainst 
 our Creator. We lay wallowing In our own blood, chained to the 
 world by our lusts, and slaves of the devil by our choice ; there 
 was none to pity, none to save us ; we could not pity, much less 
 save ourselves ; but thou didst behold us with an eye of favour 
 and bowels yearning with compassion ; thou in tender mercy, in the 
 fulness of time, didst send thy well-beloved Son to become our 
 Redeemer and afterwards our Mediator before thy throne. We 
 thank thee for his hard uncomfortable birth in a stable amonof 
 the beasts : he came to his own, but his own received him not. 
 Oh, let this teach us true humility, and his subjection to his parents 
 be a lesson of obedience to us unto ours, and all who by thine ap- 
 pointment are placed over us. His meritorious life, his watching 
 and fasting, his praying and preaching, every action, every thought, 
 every word of our Saviour, prove a blessing to us his disciples ; and, 
 oh, may we walk worthy of the glorious example of so great and 
 good a master ! For us he agonised in the garden of Gethsemane, 
 where, like a worm, and no man, he lay weeping, groaning, pray- 
 ing, if it were possible the bitter cup might pass away. But the 
 decree was fixed, and he must drink it to the very dregs. For us 
 his blessed head was crowned with piercing thorns, his sacred back 
 was ploughed with scourges ; for us he was spit upon, buffetted, 
 abused, and blasphemed. As a lamb he was led to the slaughter, 
 and as a sheep dumb before his shearers, so opened not he his 
 mouth : one breath might have consumed his tormentors from the 
 face of the earth ; but man, lost man, must have perished everlast- 
 ingly. Not so — Justice and Mercy kissed each other, the flaming 
 sword of Justice was quenched in the heart and blood of our Re- 
 deemer, and Mercy opened the gates of Paradise to us, his redeemed. 
 O God of infinite compassion, how shall we express our gratitude 
 for his cruel sufferings on Mount Calvary, where he was offered up 
 for us upon the accursed cross, and said, at length, ' Tt is fimshed^ 
 and bowed his head, and yielded up the ghost ! His glorious 
 resurrection, his ascension into heaven, and the gift of the Holy 
 Ghost, completed the glorious work of salvation. May he see the 
 travail of his soul, and be satisfied ! May none of those whom 
 thou, O Father, hast given him be lost ! And grant, O grant, that 
 each of us may add to that happy number, and eternity itself shall 
 be too short to sing thy praises. This we beg for the sake of our 
 Redeemer, Jesus Christ, to Avhom," &c. &c. 
 
86 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 general in the sequestered village of Wath, as in most 
 other places. When Mrs. Hunt lay ill, our poet was 
 somewhat startled one day by the grave announcement 
 of a familiar old dame, '' Ah ! Jemmy, your mistress 
 will surely dee — I saw her spirit last neet, comin' out 
 of your fold gate 1 " And die sure enough she did : 
 Montgomery having no doubt that the gossip really 
 believed she had seen his mistress's ghost ! '' though," 
 as he added, '' there needed no such apparition to 
 foretell the death of one lying in such mortal extremity 
 as Mrs. Hunt was at the time." 
 
 At the latter end of 1821, the writers of these pages 
 together visited Wath. The master whom Montgomery 
 had served had been dead fifteen years ; but it was not 
 without feelings allied to veneration that they gazed 
 upon the house which had afforded such a timely and 
 comfortable asylum to the fugitive, and which had so 
 long been the scene of the daily industry and the 
 nightly studies of the future author of ^^ The World 
 Before the Flood.^^ It is still standing, unaltered 
 in appearance ; and the subjoined cut will enable any 
 visitor at once to identify it. 
 
 We met with a son of Mr, Hunt, an intelligent man, 
 who was the poet's bedfellow here; indeed, the very in- 
 dividual who had found him in the little parlour of the 
 public house at Wentworth. His information corro- 
 borated the preceding statement ; and we should deem 
 it an injustice done to a worthy man, were we to with- 
 hold this acknowledgment of the evidence which he 
 adduced to prove how much Montgomery was beloved 
 by his deceased father. 
 
 Casually visiting Wath (1854) soon after transcribing 
 the foregoing passage, Mr. Holland saw and conversed 
 with an old man who remembered Montgomery during 
 his residence there : he described him as a slender youth, 
 
'o 
 
 VILLAGER S DESCRIPTION OF MONTGOMERY. 87 
 
 shrinking from the cold, and still more from contact 
 with the villagers generally, who regarded him with a 
 sort of mysterious interest, as being sure " no vulgar 
 boy." It should be mentioned that this ancient villager 
 repeated, substantially as we have given it above, the 
 story of the poet's interview with Earl Fitzwilliam in 
 Wentworth Park. 
 
 HOUSE IN WHICH MON TO-OMERT LIVED AT WATH 
 
 G 4 
 
88 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 CHAP. VIL 
 
 1789—1790. 
 
 LABOURS OF THE REV. JOHN MONTGOMERY AND HIS WIFE AT BAR- 
 
 BADOES. REMOVAL TO TOBAGO. CONVERSATION. ORIGIN AND 
 
 PROSPECTS OF THE MISSION TO THE WEST INDIES. MR. HAMILTON. 
 
 RETURN TO BARBADOES. SECOND VISIT TO TOBAGO. NARRATIVE 
 
 OF ATTEIMPTS TO INSTRUCT THE NEGROES. ENCOURAGING INDICA- 
 TIONS OF USEFULNESS. — SOURCES OF TRIAL AND ANXIETY. — RE- 
 TURN TO BARBADOES SAIL AGAIN TO TOBAGO. — MUTINY, CONFLA- 
 GRATIONS, AND TERROR ON THE ISLAND. DESPONDENCY OF THE 
 
 MISSIONARIES. 
 
 Instead of immediately following Montgomery to 
 London in the vain pursuit of fame and fortune, we 
 must be permitted to carry the reader's attention for a 
 while to those ^^ isles beyond the western deep/' where 
 the parents of the poet were preaching, teaching, and 
 suffering among negro slaves, little aware of the mental 
 disquietude of their son in England. If any apology 
 be deemed necessary for referring thus largely to these 
 devoted Moravian evangelists, it will surely be found 
 in the fact that not only was the whole tenor of the 
 poet's life affected by their history, but those triumphs 
 of freedom in the ^* West Indies " of which he sang so 
 sweetly accelerated by their labours. The emancipa- 
 tors of the slave have done their noble work, and 
 ministers of religion now preach a still more glorious 
 freedom, where amidst toils and sufferings but little 
 alleviated by evidence of success, 
 
 " Their meek forerunners waned and passed away." 
 We are therefore unwilling that John and Mary 
 
CONVERSATION RESPECTING HIS PARENTS. 89 
 
 Montgomery should lack such brief and transitory ad- 
 dition to the record of their mere names as these 
 pages can supply. 
 
 The worthy Moravian, assisted by his devoted wife, 
 continued to labour as a Christian missionary in the 
 island of Barbadoes till August, 1789, when he re- 
 moved to Tobago. Desirous of obtaining some know- 
 ledge of the poet's parents, and having been favoured by 
 him with a perusal of Dr. Brown's ^' History of the 
 Propagation of the Gospel among the Heathen," we 
 embraced the opportunity, on returning the work, of 
 eliciting a few particulars on the subject, by pointing 
 him to a passage in which the name of Montgomery 
 was introduced.* Everett: '^ Reference is there made 
 to the Moravians, and a missionary of your name is 
 noticed ?" Montgomery : ^' The persons alluded to are 
 no other than my good father and mother, of whose last 
 days I have a most affecting, and to me very precious 
 account, as detailed in one of the periodical publica- 
 tions of the Brethren : I have it up stairs in the office, 
 and, if I can lay my hands upon it, you shall have it to 
 read." While he spoke, the tears glistened in his eyes ; 
 and a peculiar tremulousness of voice, expressive of 
 filial tenderness, brought every word home to the bosom 
 of his friend, and made him almost wish he had not 
 proceeded so far. Montgomery soon returned with 
 the book. " It was," said he, ^^ almost the first thing I 
 laid hold of; take it, let it not go out of your liands — 
 I would not lose it for any price — it has afforded great 
 consolation to my mind — they finished welW On the 
 last words he laid peculiar emphasis. Everett : ^' The 
 utmost care shall be taken of it. But allow me just to 
 state that I understood your father and mother went to 
 
 * Vol. I. p. 457. 
 
90 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Barbadoes, and not, as stated by Dr. Brown, to Tobago." 
 Montgomery : " Their first destination was Barbadoes ; 
 but they paid two or three visits to Tobago, and were 
 finally appointed there by the Brethren, as you will 
 perceive." 
 
 It may be necessary to state that the attention of 
 the Moravians was first directed to Barbadoes in 1755, 
 when two of the Brethren were sent thither, one of 
 whom departed this life ahnost immediately on their 
 landing, and the other withdrew from the connexion. 
 A third who was sent to supply the place of the first 
 followed him, in a short time, into eternity. The 
 undertaking was then suspended till 1767, when Mr. 
 Benjamin Bruckshaw, a native of Cheshire, resolved to 
 go thither by himself, to renew the Mission. He met 
 with a favourable reception from the president of the 
 council, the resident clergy, and many of the planters, 
 and was joined by Mr. J. Bennet, from North America, 
 who assisted him in the work. Their united exertions 
 were crowned with partial success at first ; but through 
 the removal of Mr. Bruckshaw to Antigua, in 1771, 
 the death of Mr. Bennet in 1772, pecuniary difficulties, 
 and some dissensions among the missionaries them- 
 selves, the work in which they were engaged sustained 
 considerable injury. The cause, after this, remained 
 stationary several years * ; and the following is an ac- 
 count of the state of the Mission, as given by Mr. John 
 Montgomery, the father of the poet, in 1789 : — 
 
 '' I firmly believe that our Lord will yet see of the 
 travail of his soul in that island (Barbadoes). This 
 was the first impression I had when I entered upon the 
 labour there, and, amidst all trials, it never forsook 
 
 * Home's Sketches of the Missions of the United Brethren, pp. 
 366—9 
 
MR. HAMILTON, 91 
 
 me. The letters I received from the Brethren in 
 Europe comforted me greatly, as they expressed the 
 same confident hopes concerning the Mission, I won- 
 dered frequently at your patience in supporting so ex- 
 pensive a mission, without much visible fruit arising 
 from our labours. Now the time of visitation appears 
 to be at hand, and I think I have lived to see its begin- 
 ning. Ever since Christmas, we could no more preach 
 within doors, the number of our constant hearers having 
 greatly increased. Several of our baptized negroes be- 
 gan to tell others what the Lord had done for their 
 souls. Several of them brought their relations and 
 friends to the meeting ; and two of those who were in 
 a manner compelled to come, were baptized, and one 
 of them admitted to the Lord's Supper, before we left 
 the island." * 
 
 Considering Mr. John Montgomery as now removed 
 to Tobago, it may be proper briefly to state the causes 
 which led to it. His first visit to the island was at the 
 request of Mr. Hamilton, a gentleman of considerable 
 property and influence ; and whose indefatigable zeal 
 to promote the external and internal welfare of his 
 negroes, and those of other plantations, induced him to 
 propose and encourage a mission among them ; by 
 means of which they might be instructed m the Gospel 
 of Christ, and become acquainted with the path to 
 eternal felicitv. Thoug-h Mr. Hamilton had made re- 
 peated applications to the Moravian Brethren, yet they 
 could not, for various reasons, be attended to with that 
 promptitude which was desirable ; one of the principal 
 of which was; the possession of the island by the French, 
 which rendered the government Roman Catholic ; it 
 was therefore considered doubtful whether, with any 
 
 * Period. Accounts of the Brethren, 1791, pp. 73 — 4. 
 
92 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 certainty of permanency, a Mission could be established. 
 Mr. Hamilton at length proposed a visit to Mr. Mont- 
 gomery, and introduced him to the governor, Count 
 Dillon, by whom he v^as received w^ith courtesy and 
 treated with kindness, and was promised protection and 
 support. On the report of this visit, and a renewed 
 application of Mr. Hamilton, signed by several other 
 respectable planters, the synod of the Brethren met at 
 Herrnhut in 1789, resolved to send a missionary to 
 Tobago ; and Mr. John Montgomery received a call to 
 go thither.* The further progress of this Mission is as 
 follows : — 
 
 ^^ August 15th, 1789," says Montgom.ery's father, on 
 his second visit, " we left Barbadoes, and were thankful 
 for our safe and expeditious voyage to Tobago ; for 
 the heat of the sun was so intense, that we could not 
 remain on deck, and below we found it very inconvenient. 
 When we arrived at the island on the 18th, it was too 
 late in the evening to reach Mr. Hamilton's dwelling j 
 but a gentleman who had seen me here during my first 
 visit, hearing that we had no lodging, offered us a room 
 in his house, and treated us with the greatest kindness. 
 The next day, at noon, Mr. Hamilton arrived, and 
 conducted us to his house. I was sorry to hear that 
 our friend. Count Dillon, governor of the island, was 
 gone to France, and probably intends to resign his office. 
 The 23rd, I went with Mr. Hamilton's family to attend 
 the usual Sunday's service in the town. As yet no 
 church has been built in the island, and divine service 
 is performed in the town-house. Adjoining to this is 
 the negro-market, and the noise they make during the 
 service is such that hardly one sentence of the discourse 
 can be understood. About a thousand nesrroes are 
 
 * Period. Account, 1791, p. 71. 
 
ATTEMPTS TO INSTRUCT THE NEGROES. 93 
 
 generally in the market-place, and I saw only one at the 
 service. In the evening I gave an exhortation to Mr. 
 Hamilton's negroes. As this is done in the dining- 
 room, and in the presence of the family, the negroes 
 are kept in good order. The 25th, at noon, I met the 
 children ; few could come, for as soon as they can work 
 they are employed in the fields. The 28th^ I paid a 
 visit to a gentleman who is a professed deist. As he 
 has a great number of slaves, I asked him whether he 
 would permit them to hear the Gospel, if a brother 
 should settle in the island as a missionary ? He pro- 
 mised not only not to hinder them, but to assist in pro- 
 moting the cause ; ^ for,' added he, ' though I have my 
 private thoughts in religious matters, yet I do not assert 
 that I am in the right ; and every one may act con- 
 formably to his own conscience/ During the following 
 days I paid several visits to the negroes, but found not 
 one who showed the least wish to be converted. They 
 all ruin themselves in soul and body by the same sins and 
 abominations that prevail in the other islands, and their 
 whole minds seem absorbed in them. We received 
 about this time letters from the Synod of the Brethren, 
 informing us that it had been resolved to begin a 
 Mission in Tobago, and that we were appointed to enter 
 upon it. God our Saviour knows our weakness and 
 inability ; but, in reliance upon him, we have accepted 
 the appointment, and commend ourselves and the poor 
 negroes in this island to the prayers of all our brethren 
 everywhere. We were now desirous of returning to 
 Barbadoes as soon as possible, that we might give up 
 our commission there, and then move hither. 
 
 " Sept. 6th. — A large number of negroes attended 
 our meeting ; but, alas ! their attendance is not volun- 
 tary, but by order of their masters. Thus little real 
 o'oocl c^ui be expected at present ; and some gentleman 
 
94 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 even informed me that the negroes suspect their masters 
 of interested motives in sending them to us, which 
 makes them come with double reluctance. Another 
 disadvantage lies in this, that hardly a fourth part of 
 them understand English, and many of them make 
 themselves intelligible to each other merely by signs. 
 For this island has been but lately cultivated, and 
 a large importation of new negroes is annually re- 
 quired, which will continue till the new generation of 
 Creoles is sufficiently numerous to work in all the 
 plantations. 
 
 ^^ In our meeting on the 13th, some European gentle- 
 men were present, who expressed much satisfaction 
 with the behaviour of the negroes. During the follow- 
 ing week, Mr. Hamilton and his whole family being 
 absent, we made good use of our time in visiting the 
 negroes in their huts. 
 
 '' Oct. 1th. —We called upon Mr. W n, brother- 
 in-law to Mr. Hamilton, who is a friend to the cause. 
 He pointed out a place near to the town, as the most 
 convenient spot for the dwelling of a missionary. It 
 is advantageously situated on the chief road to the town, 
 by which a great number of negroes from the planta- 
 tions pass daily, and the town negroes would also find it 
 convenient : but till I am settled here nothing can be 
 
 finally determined. Mr. W n took me to see three 
 
 estates. The minister of the English church has paid 
 a visit of four days to Mr. Hamilton's family. He has 
 resided here only two years. 
 
 ^' On the 11th, the church minister and other 
 European gentlemen were present at our meeting. 
 They admired the quiet behaviour of the negroes ; but 
 I told them I had nowhere found reason to complain of 
 the contrary. About this time I visited a poor dying 
 negro, and spoke to him of the life eternal procured 
 
DISINCLINATION OF NEGROES TO LEAKN. 95 
 
 for him by our Saviour, in whom I exhorted him to 
 believe ; but his repeated answer was, that since his 
 birth he never had done any thing to offend any one. 
 He was too weak to speak much, and died the day after. 
 The good opinion the negroes have of themselves is 
 astonishing; for, though they wallow in the worst of 
 sins, they think they have a good heart, and love God. 
 I sometimes visited Mr. W n's negroes ; but in travel- 
 ling to and fro, got so thoroughly wet, that a severe cold 
 ensued, which confined me for a week, and, as I could 
 not have a meeting with Mr. Hamilton's negroes, I 
 desired the Church of England minister to exhort 
 them. After my recovery I was invited to visit a neigh- 
 bouring gentleman, with whom I spoke much of the 
 conversion of the negroes. But the minds of both 
 whites and blacks are at present so much alarmed by 
 accounts from France that all other considerations are 
 become secondary, and the revolution in that country is 
 the only general topic of conversation. 
 
 ^^ Nov. 1st. — Several white people from the other 
 side of the island were present at the meeting of the 
 negroes, and expressed their satisfaction. The next 
 week was a time of great uneasiness and fear, traces of 
 a general insurrection having been discovered through- 
 out the island. However, the planters were successful 
 in gaining the goodwill of the soldiers, and thus all dis- 
 turbance ceased for the present. I continued to hold 
 meetings with the negroes and to visit them in their 
 huts as usual ; but could not convince them of their 
 wretched state without God in the world. This is the 
 work of the Spirit of God, and to him we look with 
 confidence. I addressed a gentleman who had not yet 
 sent his negroes to church, and asked him his reasons. 
 He answered, that he did not think any of them wished 
 to be converted ; but added, that, if I would appoint a 
 
96 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 day, he would assemble them, and I should preach to 
 them. This was done accordingly, and the poor people 
 seemed to listen with great eagerness. I must how- 
 ever own that, in general, I feel rather heavy in our 
 meetings, for the negroes come as they do to work, 
 being driven against their inclination. On the first 
 Christmas holiday I could not converse with them, for 
 they do nothing but eat, drink, and dance all day long. 
 The day after, I read and explained the history of our 
 Lord's incarnation to them. 
 
 ^^ On the 27th, I was desired to meet the negroes of 
 a neighbouring estate ; but they were still so stupefied 
 with the excess and drunkenness they had indulged in 
 on Christmas day, that my attendance was in vain. I 
 had now some idea how the celebration of these festi- 
 vals is conducted ; but the Lord can work wonders, and 
 change the hearts and morals, as he has done in other 
 islands. 
 
 ''Dec. ^9tli. — We found a vessel sailing to Barba- 
 does, and our worthy host brought us on board. It 
 was providential that he had given us an extraordinary 
 supply of provision, for we spent twelve days between 
 the two islands, though the voyage is frequently made 
 in twenty-four hours." * 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery remained at Barbadoes 
 upwards of three months, and in a letter from Tobago, 
 dated June 7th, 1790, write thus: '^Having waited 
 a considerable time for an opportunity to sail to 
 Tobago, we left Barbadoes on the 22nd of April, and ar- 
 rived here on the 27tli. The captain went first on shore, 
 to inform the governor of his cargo and passengers, as 
 is the custom here. As soon as the governor heard 
 our names, he gave orders that we should be brought 
 
 ^ Period. Accounts, pp. 67—71, for 1791. 
 
IMUTINY IN TOBAGO- 97 
 
 on shore Immediatelv, and sent a soldier to conduct us 
 to his house. He came to meet us, took me by the 
 hand, and assured me by his interpreter (for he could 
 not speak English, nor I French) that he greatly re- 
 joiced at our being at last arrived to settle, and should 
 be glad to render us all the service in his power. Our 
 goods were not examined ; the officers placed on board 
 for that purpose suffered them to pass free. The word 
 of Scripture appointed for this day was, ^ He shall 
 give his angels charge over thee^ to keep thee in all thy 
 ways,' Psal. xci. 11., — and we experienced a gracious 
 fulfilment of this promise, even in behalf of us his poor 
 children. 
 
 ^^ Mr. Hamilton had procured us a lodging with his 
 brother-in-law, having much company at his own house, 
 and knowing that we should be more at our ease at 
 
 Mr. W n's. However, as soon as the company left 
 
 him, he sent for us, and we have been with him ever 
 since^ except once on a visit to the minister of the 
 English church. But as to the^ m.ain object of my 
 coming hither, I could do but little, and seldom fovuid 
 an opportunity of meeting the negroes. Of the dis- 
 turbances that prevailed here, you have heard before 
 now, by the public papers. I have been a witness to 
 tlie terror and confusion that reigned in this island. 
 The first alarm was occasioned by a general mutiny 
 among the soldiers, both in the town and the plantations. 
 They first beat their officers most unmercifully ; and 
 then some sailed to the neighbouring island, others 
 formed a garrison without ofi^cers. Two days after, 
 the town was set on fire at two o'clock in the morning, 
 when all peaceable people were fast asleep. The in- 
 cendiaries intended the destruction of the whole place ; 
 and the houses being chiefly built of wood, the dryness 
 of the season and a high wind favoured their wicked 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 MEMOIRS or JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 design. The conflagration spread every way, and did 
 not stop till it reached the sea. Indeed, the gentlemen 
 in the country hastened with a great number of negroes 
 to extinguish the flames ; but the soldiers had shut up 
 every avenue, and would not suffer one negro to pass 
 till all was over. Some magazines that stood by them- 
 selves to windward were saved. A fortnight after, the 
 soldiers embarked and set sail for France, and all were 
 glad to get rid of them. At present some volunteers 
 mount guard and do other military duty. You may 
 easily suppose that these circumstances occasioned a 
 general terror ; for no one knew in what hour he might 
 lose life and fortune. Both whites and blacks kept 
 strict watch every night. During this dreadful period 
 we looked confidently to our gracious and almighty 
 God and Saviour as helpless children, and, believing He 
 has sent us hither, oflfered up prayers and supplications 
 to Him in behalf of ourselves and the island, that He 
 would in due time silence the storm, dispel all darkness, 
 and cause the light of his precious Gospel to shine in 
 the hearts of the poor negroes. We felt his peace 
 amidst the tumult, and put our trust under the shadow 
 of his wings. To look out for a settlement in the pre- 
 sent crisis was impossible, and no house could be pro- 
 cured with safety. However, as soon as the troubles 
 subsided a little, we fixed upon a house near the town, 
 and only wait for the removal of the present tenants." 
 
 Up to July 28th, 1790, Mr. John Montgomery saw 
 no fruit of his mission, and was led to exclaim, '^ 
 that I knew but one soul in Tobago truly concerned for 
 his salvation, how should I rejoice !" He subjoins, by 
 way of postscript, to the above, ^' Having no opportu- 
 nity hitherto to send what I have written to Europe, I 
 will add the following : — 
 
 '^ It was the 17th of June before Mr. Hamilton would 
 
DESPOXDEXCY OF THE MISSIONAKIES. 99 
 
 suffer us to remove to our new dwelling, for lie kindly 
 detained us from time to time. The texts appointed 
 for the day on which we began our housekeeping as 
 missionaries^ were remarkably suitable : ' He bringeth 
 them into their desired haven ; therefore let them exalt 
 Him in the congregation of the people.' — ^ He which 
 hath begun a good work in you, will perform it until 
 the day of Jesus Christ.' 
 
 '' The day after, I v/ent to church, and conversed 
 with some negroes, who promised to tell their compa- 
 nions that, at four in the afternoon, I should be glad to 
 see them at my house, and speak to them of their 
 Creator and Redeemer. They all promised to come, but 
 not one came. During the following week, I went fre- 
 quently to the town to make myself known ; and on 
 the Sunday following addressed them again, and invited 
 them to my house. They again promised to come, but 
 not one appeared at the appointed time. On the fol- 
 lowing Sunday, July 4th, I waited a whole hour for 
 hearers, when three came, with whom I spoke of the 
 r^-reat love of God our Saviour to them and the whole 
 fallen human race ; and in about an hour's time nearly 
 thirty had assembled, to whom I delivered a discourse 
 on the words, ' God is love.' They behaved very well, 
 and some promised to come again. A negro woman 
 said, ' Many of us know very well how to go to church, 
 and therefore we came to hear the new preacher, and 
 we like very well what he sa3^s.' 
 
 " The Sunday after this, fourteen were at the meet- 
 incr ; but, on the two Sundays following, not one 
 appeared. Between our house and the town is a plain 
 alono- the sea-coast, upon which all kinds of diversion 
 are practised on a Sunday afternoon. All the negroes 
 who would come to us from the town, must pass close 
 by this place ; and thus it seems as if Satan had pitched 
 
 H 2 
 
100 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 his camp opposite to us^ and would not suffer any one to 
 pass to hear the Gospel. What can I say more ? Gladly 
 would I say something more encouraging, but I cannot 
 at present; nor can I describe in words the sensations 
 of my heart in meditating on these subjects. Re- 
 member and pray for your poor distant brother and 
 sister, 
 
 '^ John and Mary Montgomery." 
 
101 
 
 CHAR VIIL 
 
 1790—1791. 
 
 MONTGOMERY IN LONDON. — SITUATION WITH HARRISON THE BOOK- 
 SELLER. — MS. OF " THE WHISKERIAD," AND MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 — SPECIMENS SECLUDED HABITS. — NEVER ENTERED A THEATRE. 
 
 FIRE AT THE ALBION MILLS. — WRITES " CHIMERA," A TALE. 
 
 ITS PUBLICATION IN DR. ANDERSON's " BEE." HALFPENNY BOOKS. 
 
 WRITES A NOVEL, AND AN EASTERN TALE. BOTH DECLINED 
 
 BY PUBLISHERS. — SWEARING. — AN INCIDENT. — DEPARTURE FROM 
 THE METROPOLIS. 
 
 Leaving the missionary couple in Tobago, where they 
 continued to deliver that message of mercy which, 
 faithfully received, made, even in those days, the 
 African slave '^ the Lord's freeman," we return to 
 Montgomery, who had exchanged the quiet valley of 
 the Dearne for the vicinity of the busy Thames, the 
 solitary field-walks of Wath for the bustling streets of 
 London ; and where the conviction came at first op- 
 pressively upon him, that if he had previously lived, as 
 it were, out of the world, he was now surrounded by 
 too many evidences that he had found its central 
 vortex, the 
 
 " Fumum et opes strepitumque Romce.^^ 
 
 Mr. Harrison, of Paternoster Row, to whom Mont- 
 gomery had been recommended by Mr. Brameld, was 
 not only an active and successful publisher, but like- 
 wise a contributor both in prose and verse to some of 
 the periodical works which issued from his press. He 
 had received the manuscript volume of poems, readily 
 gave the author a situation in his shop, and encouraged 
 
 H 3 
 
102 MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 liim to continue to cultivate liis talents, but declined to 
 print what had been sent to him. 
 
 Aware, as we are, of the little interest with which 
 the best efforts of juvenile versification are ordinarily 
 regarded, especially in an age so prolific in really good 
 poetr}^ we venture to select a few specimens of the 
 w^ork presented to Harrison, and upon the publication 
 of which all the author's hopes of immortality were, 
 as he afterwards remarked, at that time founded. 
 They are curious, as the composition of a recluse boy, 
 at a period when the facilities for reading, and the 
 stimulus of intellectual improvement^ were widely dif- 
 ferent from what they are at this moment. 
 
 ^^ Now, Muse, let's sing of rats," says Grainger, in a 
 passage of his poem, '^ The Sugar Cane," which excited 
 the merriment of Dr. Johnson ; and it seems our youth- 
 ful poet adopted the same resolution, though ^^ with a 
 difference," for the first, and by far the most ambitious 
 article in this little volume w^as entitled ^^The Whis- 
 KERiAD, an Heroi'Comic Poem^ in Three Cantos ,' diwA. 
 consisting of several thousand lines. It describes, in 
 imitation of Homer's battle of the Frogs and Mice, a 
 fierce conflict which fell out betw^een certain belligerent 
 cats and rats, and was evidently designed as a satire on 
 the causes, conduct, and consequences of more im- 
 portant wars. The poem is laughable and spirited 
 throughout, and the mock-heroic style well enough 
 sustained : we need not, however, give any extracts. 
 
 Of the miscellaneous pieces, the first is an ^' Ode to 
 Solitude," consisting of 147 lines, and of which we 
 have already given a specimen. 
 
 This is followed by ten four-line verses, entitled 
 ^^ Peace," an elegy, beginning — 
 
 ^' Thou lily of pleasure and rose of delight. 
 Sweet Peace ! how transcendently glorious and bright," &c. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 103 
 
 Peace of mind is the subject of the poet's invocation, 
 but his lines contain no striking passage except, per- 
 haps, the following : — • 
 
 ^^ The bloom of my youth is quite blasted and wan, 
 A pale, meagre phantom — I'm scarcely a man ; 
 So dreadful is grief, and so furious despair, 
 All pleasures are racks if sweet Peace is not there. 
 
 " Then haste, thou dear stranger, o'er my breast descend ! 
 And come to my bosom, and be thou my friend: 
 O warm me, quite frozen, with heavenly flame, 
 Of my soul take possession, and fill my whole frame." 
 
 The next article is an extempore squib, ^^ On hear- 
 ing a miserable Performer on the Organ." It shows 
 that the writer could not at this time listen to the 
 murder of sweet sounds with indifference: — 
 
 ^' Wretched bungler ! cease your jargon. 
 Nor profane the sweet»voiced organ : J 
 
 Like a long-eared^ braying ass, 
 Shrieks the treble, roars the bass ; 
 But when earless asses play, 
 Orpheus' lyi*e itself must bray." 
 
 After this, a hiatus occurs in the MS., the leaves 
 from p. 69. to p. 76. being cut out ; on the latter of 
 which some poem concludes with a pleasing simile of 
 two rivers rising at the same fountain, and after flowing 
 awhile in opposite directions, at length reunite in ^' the 
 infinite sea." 
 
 An ^^ Ode for Christmas, 1787," succeeds, in which 
 the youthful poet shows some sparks if not of Pin- 
 daric, at least of hallowed fire : the following is the 
 first stanza : — 
 
 H 4 
 
104 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 " The depths, the unfathomed depths of love, I sing ! 
 The greatest deed of heaven's Almighty King : 
 O love, thou muse of heaven! my breast inspire! 
 Give me a seraph's voice, a tongue of fire. 
 That, warmed with kindlhig raptures, I may raise 
 Celestial love! thy all-transcending praise; 
 For thou art God — the only God supreme; 
 My Muse, my God, my Saviour, and my theme!" 
 
 The remaining lines (about 150) are rugged and in- 
 harmonious; but the sentiments, although frequently 
 stretched to the utmost verge of sober meaning, are 
 all correct, and exhibit, in the distinctness of the poet's 
 conceptions on this subject, the value of his religious 
 education. 
 
 Odes to Easter and to the Day of Judgment fol- 
 low, and to both of them the same remark may be 
 applied. Many incidental allusions to the Day of 
 Judgment, as a subject for poetry, occur in these 
 Memoirs ; of the attempt before us, we need only sa}', 
 that it is very long, and, on the whole, very indifferently 
 executed. 
 
 Page 100. introduces us to ^^ Triumph," a Pindaric 
 Ode. This must have been written when he was 
 twelve, or, at most, thirteen years of age. The follow- 
 ing are the introductory lines : — 
 
 " Hark ! the trumpet sounds sonorous, 
 To the full-voiced martial chorus ; 
 So the British hero comes, 
 Colours flying. 
 Voices crying. 
 
 Hail, triumphant warrior, hail ! 
 Beat the hollow-sounding drums ; 
 Let your praises mount the gate ; 
 Let the shrill fife's pipe resound ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS TOEMS. 105 
 
 From the hautboy's warbling throat 
 
 Pour the animating note ; 
 
 From the horn, in tone profound, 
 
 Roll the full thunder of majestic sound ! 
 
 And the clarionet divine 
 
 Shall the martial concert join: 
 
 Rise, ye valiant youths, arise. 
 
 And rend with joyful shouts the ringing skies ; 
 
 Lo he comes, resound his fame, 
 
 Rodney, Rodney, is his name ! " 
 
 After this exordium, according to the custom of Pin^ 
 daric bards^ our author's stanza goes stark mad with 
 rapture ; and epithets of all sorts, and lines of all 
 lengths, crowd the ranks of the poem. In one line 
 he bids the ^^ nobler bards of Britain sing:" some of 
 them did so in as good earnest as our poet, and their 
 songs, like his own, have had the fate of victory cele- 
 brations in general — to be forgotten. Amidst all the 
 rant of this piece, there are, of course, many striking 
 lines ; a patriotic enthusiasm pervades the whole ; and 
 the youthful poet declares, after praising his hero, that 
 
 " When Britons, fixed on conquest, take the field. 
 Not Gaul alone, but all the world must yield." 
 
 Next in order, follows ^^ The Seasons," a poem, in 
 four Pindaric Odes. Spring^ of course, is first apostro- 
 phised; and after rejoicing, for about eighteen lines, at 
 the departure of winter, in a strain not dissimilar to 
 one which he subsequently employed*, the lark is 
 allowed to herald the woodland choir; when — 
 
 * When Montgomery was told that the thought employed in the 
 opening lines in this Ode on Spring was discoverable in his " Re- 
 monstrance to Winter," published many years afterwards, he ob- 
 served, " A man may surely be allowed to make use of himself/' 
 
106 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 '^ Roused with his song, the feathered poets raise 
 Their choral voices in one hymn of praise ; 
 And whilst the morn, with lavish bounty, sows 
 The orient heaven with amaranth and rose, 
 The woodland concert swell their warblino; throats, 
 Thrill the rapt ear with all the power of notes." 
 
 After about thirty lines in allusion to rural scenes, 
 the following description of the rainbow occurs; it is 
 the first allusion in Montgomery's poetry to an object 
 which not only furnished him several years afterwards 
 with the title of his newspaper, but, subsequently, with 
 many exquisite similes and illustrations: — 
 
 ^^ How changed the scene ! what fulgent colours glow 
 In yon grand arch, th' Almighty Father's bow ! 
 Superbly drest 
 In gaudy vest ; 
 
 Blushing crimson — modest blue; 
 The golden grace of autumn's scene, 
 And beauteous spring's delightful green. 
 Captivate the ravished view." 
 
 This glimpse of the rainbow somewhat unaccount- 
 ably reminds him of the end of the w^orld, and he in- 
 dulges in a long digression on that subject. The 
 following lines would not have been unworthy of 
 Young : — 
 
 " The host of suns and worlds that o'er the pole 
 Their boundless paths in flaming grandeur roll, 
 Shall fall like dewdrops from the shaken thorn. 
 Brushed by the passing swains at early morn ; 
 And thou, O sun! transcendent spring of light. 
 Thy radiant globe shall be involved in night ; 
 Pluckt from thy sphere, thy glories fade away. 
 And, like a spark, shalt glimmer and decay; 
 Yea, at the glance of God's consuming eye. 
 Nature shall in an instant burn and die." 
 
POEM OF ^^THE SEASONS." 107 
 
 Summer succeeds^ to the extent of 430 lines, 
 and is, on the whole, one of the least striking of the 
 pieces. It was written at the age of sixteen ; and 
 although it contains too many of those common-place 
 references to rural affairs, which have formed the staple 
 of juvenile rhymesters at periods, it is not without 
 some lines of comparative power and beauty; especially 
 a description of Etna, and of the singing of the nightin- 
 gale. The poet's rapturous dedication of himself to the 
 Muses, in the following passage, is interesting, from the 
 earnest tone of poetical devotion, as well as the striking 
 contrast with his later highly-finished style, which it dis- 
 plays : — 
 
 " O heavenly Muses ! to you I consign 
 Myself and my genius, with all that is mine ; 
 With you I can live, with you I can dwell, 
 Or in the full city or eremite's cell. 
 'Twas in the young dawn of my reason your rays 
 Illumined my path, and directed my ways. 
 My youth you attend^ though unfruitful and green, 
 And scarcely arrived at the goal of eighteen ; 
 O still lead me on, if secured from death's rage, 
 From youth to full manhood, and glorious old age ; 
 Though poverty chill should depress my cramped wing, 
 Forbid me like Homer or Milton to sing. 
 E'en still you can warm and enliven my breast. 
 If only with fancy and utterance blest. 
 All things are unstable — all under the sky, 
 All riches, and pleasures, and honours must die : 
 But you shall survive, and your heavenly lay, 
 Though the skies shall evaporate, and earth shall decay. 
 In fullest perfection exalt the glad strain. 
 For music and poetry for ever shall reign !" 
 
 Autumn follows next, containing about 230 lines ; but 
 it does not present any passage which is worth tran- 
 
108 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 scribing at length. The writer alludes to some of his 
 favourite poets — Horner^ Pindar, Milton, Dryden, Pope, 
 and 
 
 " Young ! thrice honoured name : 
 
 Great son of genius ! son of fame ! 
 
 Religion warms his soul with heavenly strains, 
 
 His works shall live while Virtue's self remains.'* 
 
 He then observes, that all these constellations are set 
 in ^^ endless night," but, 
 
 " As when the Phoenix on the pile expires, 
 Another rises from the funeral fires," 
 
 — so, from the ashes of the defunct British bards the 
 ^^ mighty Cowper springs."* 
 
 " Long live the sacred bard, whose hallowed strain 
 Inspires the just, and charms e'en the profane." 
 
 The writings of this sweet, truthful, and amiable poet 
 had, as we have seen, early attracted the attention, and 
 secured the affection, of Montgomery, 
 
 Winter^ the concluding ode, is very long, sometimes 
 powerful, but very unequal: — 
 
 '' Ye towering Alps I tremendous scene ! 
 Ye rocks with horror crowned, 
 With clouds and vapours girded round ; 
 What devastation spreads the plain. 
 When from your tyrant heads you throw 
 Your diadems of solid snow ! " 
 
 * This thought he afterwards, and with greater propriety, though 
 in reference to a very different character, recast into the following 
 verse : — 
 
 " Peace to the dead. — In Scotia's choir 
 Of minstrels, great and small, 
 He sprang from his spontaneous fire, 
 The Phoenix of them all ! " 
 
 Verses on Burns. 
 
SECLUDED HABITS. 109 
 
 How strikingly the sentiment in the foregoing lines 
 recalls the well-known song in Byron's " Manfred/' 
 beginning, — 
 
 ^' Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains ; 
 They crowned him long ago. 
 On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, 
 With a diadem of snow," &c. 
 
 After mentioning the storms and the winds of the 
 season, the following lines occur, which show that cur 
 young poet attempted to produce effect by rugged 
 alliteration : -7— 
 
 '' Dread, with unutterable terror vast. 
 Resounds, resounds, resounds the loud'ning lengthening 
 
 blast. 
 The mountains reel, and from their bursting sides 
 The rushing rivers roll, rough, raging tides ; 
 The frantic inundations sweep 
 Trees, flocks, and cottages into the deep." 
 
 The poem concludes with a spirited apostrophe to the 
 power, the wisdom, and the love of God. 
 
 While Montgomery was in London, he indulged his 
 taste for seclusion almost as much as when he resided 
 at Wath ; and, whether regarded as the effect of pre- 
 vious moral training, or as the mere result of his love 
 of solitude, it may be mentioned, as a remarkable fact, 
 that he never entered a theatre during his residence 
 in London. Once, in after life — we believe during a 
 visit there in 1795 — he went to Covent Garden; and, 
 at a still later period, he saw — and in common with 
 everv one who ever did see her, enjoyed — Mrs. Siddons, 
 when acting at Sheffield, in her leading characters — 
 Lady Randolph, in ^^ Douglas;" Lady Macbeth; Jane 
 Shore ; and Isabella, in Southeran's play of the 
 '' Fatal Marriage." It is perhaps a still more remark- 
 
110 MEMOIllS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 able fact, that he never, on that or any future expedi- 
 tion to town, went to see the British Museum ! When 
 asked, many years afterwards, whether he visited any of 
 the public institutions ? he replied, ^^ No ; I had no 
 curiosity for such things at the time." This was remark- 
 able in an active-minded youth^ nineteen years of age, 
 who had been brought up in the country. There was, 
 however, one striking spectacle^ with which the residents 
 of tlie metropolis are unhappily but too familiar, which 
 he did go to see — a great fire. The Albion flour-mills, 
 near Blackfriars Bridge, were burnt down on the 1st of 
 March^ 1791, — Montgomery witnessed the conflagration. 
 Having been disappointed in his hopes of publication, 
 he was advised to direct his attention io prose ^ as more 
 likely to be successful than poetry. This was not at all 
 congenial to the ambition of the young bard, who had, 
 in his own estimation, scaled some of the heights of 
 Parnassus: to turn to prose, appeared to him a descent 
 from the point of elevation to which he had fancied 
 himself raised. He, however, set himself to work, and 
 soon produced ^^ Simple Sammy ; or, the Lilliputian 
 Quixote." This he offered to Marshall, who at that 
 period sold " hooks ^ hound and gilt ^ for one half -penny ; " 
 but that which Montgomery produced ^^ was to have 
 made a sixpenny volume^'' as he laughingly observed to 
 us afterwards, when speaking of his residence and em- 
 ployment in the metropolis. The main story was 
 entitled *^ Chimera ; or, a Tale of a Looking Glass." 
 When the MS. was presented to Marshall, he observed, 
 *' You can write better than this ; you are more fit to 
 write for men than for children.'^^ Montgomery replied, it 
 was the first prose zvork he had w^ritten ; and Marshall 
 declined to publish it. 
 
 The first weekly number of an Edinburgh perio- 
 dical, edited by the late Dr. Anderson, under the 
 
PUBLICATION OF THE ^^ CHIMERA.'^ Ill 
 
 title of ^^ The Bee," — a title previously adopted by 
 Goldsmith, and, before him, by Budgell — appeared in 
 December, 1790; it contained, at the beginning, an 
 annomicement of prizes to be awarded to the writers 
 of the best historical sketch, biographical notice, 
 literary essay, or poetical composition, which should be 
 sent in before the month of May in the year ensuing. 
 Of these subjects, a gold medal, or five guineas^ was 
 offered ^^ for the best original miscellaneous essay, 
 story, apologue, or tale, illustrative of life and man- 
 ners ; or effusion or disquisition on any subject that 
 tends to interest the heart and amuse tlie imagination, 
 in prose." 
 
 Montgomery happening to see this announcement, 
 immediately proceeded to furbish up his maiden essay, 
 and in due course transmitted it to Edinburgh, as a 
 candidate for medalhc honours. In the number of 
 ^^The Bee" for August, 1791, the decision of the 
 adjudicators of the premiums v/as published, and Mont- 
 gomery, although unsuccessful as a prizeman, was flat- 
 tered by the assurance of the editor, that ^^ though this 
 piece has some very obvious defects, and is evidently writ- 
 ten by a young person whose style is not yet chastened, 
 yet it discovers a fund of fancy and humour, w^hicli 
 ouo'ht, he thinks, abundantly to atone for tliese de- 
 fects. The great modesty of the writer, too, in the 
 letter w^hich accompanied it, tended very much to con- 
 ciliate his favour. By the author's permission, he will 
 submit this piece to the readers of ' The Bee.' " The 
 permission to publish was probably given ; for " The 
 Chimera," with its motto, '^ monstrum liorrendum^ in- 
 forme, ingens^' appeared in '^ The Bee " for November 
 of the same year. This '' tale," if tale it can be called, 
 was afterwards rewritten, though not improved, and 
 published by the author, with some other pieces, in a 
 
112 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 volume presently to be mentioned : it is not, however, 
 either particularly striking in itself, nor does it exhibit 
 the slightest trace of that charm which ulthnately charac- 
 terised the productions of the same pen. The idea 
 caught and expanded is, that of a number of individuals 
 advancing in succession to look at a ^^ monster " like that 
 indicated by the motto, when each person, on being 
 shown in a looking-glass — a sort of moral mirror • — his 
 own similitude, starts back with affright at the horrid 
 apparition — of himself ! ^^ And now, reader, what could 
 this mean? Mark the wickedness, the treachery, the 
 depravity of the human heart. These mirrors, perhaps 
 3^ou will say, were carried about by the owners to re- 
 mind them of their own deformity. No such thing; 
 but merely to expose both friends and foes, by holding 
 the mirror before their faces on every occasion, and 
 where or whensoever they meet them ; and history says, 
 that since the introduction of looking-glasses into this 
 unhappy village [Gotham], every individual was per- 
 fectly acquainted with all the faults of all the rest of the 
 inhabitants, but utterly ignorant of his own." 
 
 The '^ Chimera," upon which we have perhaps dwelt 
 too long, may be dismissed with the following incident: 
 — Holland: ^^ The sonnet on the ^ Crucifixion,' which 
 you have printed in the same volume with ^ Greenland,' 
 is singularly striking : does the Italian original justify the 
 expressions as you have translated them ?" Montgomery: 
 ** It is, indeed, a sublime composition : I have destroyed 
 the legitimate structure of the sonnet, on purpose to 
 preserve the force and advantage of the expressions." 
 Holland: 'Vl was a little surprised, the other day, to 
 meet with this sonnet printed with some carols on a 
 sheet of the worst paper I ever saw, price one halfpenny." 
 Montgomery : ^' They were godly songs^ I suppose ? " 
 Holland: ^^ Yes, sir; but it had experienced singular 
 
SWEARING. 113 
 
 vicissitudes." Montgomery: ^' I once met with a somewhat 
 similar incident. I was walking along the piazza at Bux- 
 ton^ and happening to look in at a bookseller's window, 
 I saw a book spread open with a smart frontispiece, enti- 
 tled ' Chimera, or a Tale of a Looking^ Glass ; a Tale 
 for Children!' Chimera! thought I — I must have 
 seen this before ; and presently recollected it was the 
 title of one of my own tales in the ' Whisperer.' I 
 bought the book, and discovered it was the identical 
 composition, adorned with a considerable number of 
 tolerable embellishments, although the tale itself is 
 most unsuitable for children." 
 
 From the hint given by Marshall, that he ^^ was more 
 fit to write for men than children," Montgomery set to 
 work, and wrote a novel, in imitation of the style of 
 Fielding. He at once placed this in the hands of Lane, 
 the publisher, who observed, that he was just going 
 down to his country house, and would take the MS. 
 with him, and read it. On his return to town, Mont- 
 gomery waited upon him, and was astonished {'^petri- 
 fied'' — to use his own expression) to hear Lane say, 
 '' You swear so shockingly, that I dare not publish the 
 work as it is." '^ This," said he to us, '^ was like a dag- 
 ger to my heart, for I never swore an oath in my life, 
 nor did I, till that moment, ever perceive, as I ought to 
 have done, the impropriety of making fictitious charac- 
 ters swear in print, as they do in Fielding and Smollett, 
 who had been my models in that novel ; but swearing 
 was more the character of that age than the present."* 
 Lane, however, told him, that if he would re-write the 
 work, he would give him twenty pounds for it. This 
 
 * No one can read Gibbon s Letters to Lord Sheffield without 
 beino- surprised, if not shocked, to see how frequently they are dis- 
 fi<>-ured by evidences of this vulgar vice. 
 
 VOL. L i 
 
114 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY, 
 
 was a tempting bait to his ambition and his poverty, 
 and he resolved to accept it; but presently leaving his 
 situation, the revision of this story was reserved for his 
 long leisure in York Castle, five years afterwards. 
 When he had remodelled the whole work, he offered it 
 to Lane for forty pounds. This was refused ; and it often 
 afforded him the most sincere satisfaction in after years 
 that he had not, among other occasions of regret, to 
 lament the publication of what must have given him so 
 much pain in the retrospect. The fate of this amusing 
 but unchastened composition will be noticed in a subse- 
 quent page. 
 
 Though he here met with another, and — he may well 
 have deemed it at the time — a serious disappoint- 
 ment, yet there was sufficient in Lane's proposal to keep 
 hope alive, and encourage an ardent mind like Mont- 
 gomery's in the work of composition. Accordingly, 
 he soon produced an '' Eastern Tale," and carried it one 
 evening to a publisher in town, to whose private room 
 he was introduced through the shop, presenting his MS. 
 to the awful personage with equal trepidation and for- 
 mality. The cautious bibliopolist read the title, counted 
 first the pages, then the lines in each, and after a brief 
 calculation, turned to the author, who was not a little 
 surprised at this mode of estimating the merit of a work 
 of imagination — by pinching it between the thumb and 
 fingers ! — very civilly placed the copy in his hand, saying, 
 ^' Sir, your manuscript is too small — it won't do for me; 
 
 take it to , he publishes these kind of things." The 
 
 young author withdrew from the presence of the literary 
 Rhadamanthus with so much embarrassment and preci- 
 pitation, that in repassing through the shop, he bolted 
 his head right against a patent lamp, smashed the glass, 
 and spilt the oil! He was endeavouring to frame an 
 awkward apology, when he saw the shopmen were 
 
DEPARTURE FROM THE METROPOLIS. 115 
 
 enjoying a hearty laugh at his expense, which gave a 
 less serious air to the accident than he had at first appre- 
 hended. He rushed into the street, with all the emotions 
 of ^^ the bashful man ; " and yet he could scarcely then 
 himself refrain from laughing at a scene that might almost 
 have tempted Hogarth to resume his pencil, even after 
 he had finished his '^ Tail-piece." The refusal to print 
 which he had encountered was, however, the most pain- 
 ful part of the business; for by this his prospects of 
 success, whether in prose or verse, still appeared in- 
 auspicious. Of this, the disaster of the lamp, to a 
 superstitious mind, might have been deemed ominously 
 conclusive. In consequence of these discouragements, 
 and a casual misunderstanding with Harrison, the young 
 and enthusiastic but sadly disappointed poet took a 
 farewell ramble along the bank of that great river where 
 he had lately witnessed the fire, and finally made up 
 his mind to return to Yorkshire ; but still indulging 
 in musings akin to those of the translator of Juvenal : — 
 
 " An hour may come, so I delight to dream, 
 When slowly wandering by thy sacred stream, 
 Majestic Thames! I leave the world behind, 
 And give to Fancy all th' enraptured mind : 
 An hour may come, when I shall strike the lyre 
 To nobler themes." * 
 
 That hour, indeed, came ; but it was, as jet^ remote. 
 For the present, having consoled himself wuth a rhyming 
 diatribe, of considerable length and some smartness, on 
 the trite theme — the lack of patronage for young literary 
 aspirants ! — Montgomery left London, in the month of 
 March, by a heavy coach for Wath, passing through 
 Sheffield. When seated fairly in the vehicle, he began 
 to reconnoitre his fellow-passengers, consisting of three 
 
 ♦ Gifford's Meeviad. 1. 217. 
 1 2 
 
116 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 individuals — a commercial traveller, a young woman, 
 and a gentleman of very singular appearance, whose 
 place in the coach was opposite our hero, who, in after 
 life, could never erase from- his mind the impression 
 made by this personage. Young as the poet then was, 
 he presently perceived that the stranger who sat vis-a-vis 
 to him, in stern silence, was a man of no common 
 mould; indeed, he felt as if he was suddenly placed in 
 the company of one of those dark-visaged heroes of 
 romance, of which his imagination was then so full. 
 Cortez, or Pizarro, he thought within himself, might be 
 like this man. His figure was tall and thin ; he had an 
 atrabilious countenance, a blue beard reaching almost to 
 his keen eyes, from the occasional glances of which 
 Montgomery shrunk as from the fascination of a rattle- 
 snake. He had, besides, a spasmodic affection of the 
 muscles of his face, which added not a little to the im- 
 pression which his presence produced on the sensitive 
 youth. ^^ He was," said Montgomery, ^^ precisely one 
 of those persons whom you feel it would be unsafe to 
 offend." While in the coach, he remained perfectly 
 silent; but when at table, his manners were those of a 
 gentleman. On resuming his seat, however, he always 
 '' crept into his shell," and maintained his inflexible but 
 dignified taciturnity. This was a period of Montgo- 
 mery's life when, to him, human character, in its infi- 
 nite varieties, was a new study, and of which the subject 
 before him was a striking specimen. On the arrival of 
 the coach at Nottingham, the stranger left it, and Mont- 
 gomery was particularly anxious to learn his destina- 
 tion. His curiosity only enabled him to read the label 
 of a trunk, addressed '^ Hon. Captain Byron ;" and his 
 persuasion, in after years, was, that the individual who 
 had interested him so powerfully was the father of the 
 celebrated and noble poet of that name, who was travel- 
 
WRITES A HUMOPtOUS TALE. 117 
 
 ling to the family mansion of Newstead Abbey, in that 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 While in London, his attention had been caught, and 
 his playful fancy a good d-eal amused, by a caricature 
 which was exhibited in the print shops, representing a 
 gentleman dandling a very fat lady, plentifully decorated 
 with bags of gold, labelled " 1000/.," &c. It turned 
 out that the female passenger in the coach was waiting- 
 woman to the lady whose marriage had given occasion 
 to the above representation, and was following her 
 mistress to Westmoreland. With this young woman 
 Montgomery became very chatty, and was not a little 
 entertained by the details which she gave of the lady's 
 immense fortune. 
 
 Notwithstanding he had thus turned his back on 
 London, the scene of his golden expectations, this 
 journey afforded too many adventures, real or ima- 
 ginary, to be suffered to pass without a record. Ac- 
 cordingly, when he got to Wath, he wrote a humorous 
 ^^ History of what did not happen in a Journey from 
 London." This, of course, contained notices of some 
 strange and whimsical adventures, such as the annals of 
 a commonwealth of ants, which, after having existed 
 500 years, was destroyed by the coach-wheel on Not- 
 tingham forest; the history of a game cock upon 
 which they dined at the inn, and whose prowess and 
 battles were detailed by the landlord during the meal 
 of his guests, who experienced a tough corroboration 
 of his statements. These, with droll descriptions of 
 various incidents connected with the passengers, made 
 up this strange way-side product of his youthful ima- 
 gination. 
 
 I 3 
 
118 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 CHAP IX. 
 
 1790—1791. 
 
 MONTGOMERY RETURNS ^TO HIS OLD SITUATION AT WATH. RECOL- 
 LECTIONS OF LONDON AUTHORS. — D'iSRAELI. HUNTINGTON S.S. 
 
 POETICAL PURSUITS CONTINUED. — ATTENDS THE VILLAGE CHURCH. 
 
 NANCY WAINWRIGHT. SWATHE HALL, — HANNAH TURNER. — 
 
 RURAL SUPERSTITIONS. INDEPENDENT CHAPEL. MR. GROVES. — 
 
 DREADFUL HURRICANE IN TOBAGO. SUFFERING OF THE MISSION- 
 ARIES THERE. DEATH OF THE POET's MOTHER. HER DYING 
 
 TESTIMONY. HER BURIAL-PLACE. — DEATH OF THE POET's FATHER 
 
 IN BARBADOES. HIS GRAVE. — FILIAL FEELINGS AND POETICAL 
 
 TRIBUTE. 
 
 Our poet re-entered the dwelling of his old master, on 
 the banks of the Dearne, '^ a sadder and a wiser man" 
 than he left it. Experience had shown him, that to 
 reach London was less difficult than to attain the 
 honours of the press, either in prose or rhyme. But 
 still, if his designs of authorship had been frustrated, the 
 edge of his intellect was not dulled, but rather sharpened 
 by the recent trial of its powers ; so that, while he 
 attended with undeviating regularity to the duties of 
 Mr. Hunt's shop, his cogitations by day and his dreams 
 by night were more than ever identified with the pur- 
 suits, if not the ambition of literature. It was, indeed, 
 during this second sojourn at Wath, that he conceived 
 the rudiments, or framed the first sketches, of some of 
 those sweet little pieces which have acquired a per- 
 manent interest among his minor poems. Besides, 
 however he might miscalculate the value of his earliest 
 literary efforts, and suffer from the rebuffs of pub- 
 lishers, his brief sojourn in London had not been 
 devoid either of instruction or gratification. He had, 
 
KECOLLECTIONS OF LONDON AUTHORS. 119 
 
 at least, seen something of books ; and, what was more 
 interesting at the time, something of authors. Among 
 the visitors at Harrison's shop was I. D'Israeli, at that 
 time inclined to poetry, afterwards author of the 
 ^^ Curiosities of Literature," and other delightful works 
 of the same class. 
 
 There was another visitor of a far different character, 
 whom Montgomery was wont sometimes to recal in 
 after life — the celebrated William Huntington, the 
 converted ^^ coal-heaver," once a popular but eccen- 
 tric preacher in Gray's Inn Chapel. Montgomery 
 described him as a short, stiff, elderly man, with a 
 dark -red face, grave and quiet in his manner. His 
 redoubtable compeer in the Calvinistic pulpit, Timothy 
 Priestley, a brother of the well-known philosopher of 
 the name, having published in his ^^ Looking-Glass" 
 something offensive to *^ S, S.," the '' Sinner Saved," 
 as Huntington called himself, the latter turned the 
 reflection against his opponent in a pamphlet entitled 
 ^^ Timothy shaved by his own Glass." 
 
 Mrs. Charlotte Lenox, author of the ^' Female 
 Quixote," and several other works, but better remem- 
 bered now as having enjoyed the friendship of Dr. 
 Johnson, was an occasional visitor at the same shop ; 
 and, as the first literary lady the youthful poet had 
 seen, his curiosity was stimulated by her history and 
 her appearance, and his feelings were gratified by being 
 allowed to escort her to her carriage in the street. 
 
 We have already alluded to the church at Wath. 
 Here Montgomery generally attended divine service on 
 the Sunday, with Mr. Hunt's family ; and in an adjoin- 
 ing pew sat the late Thomas Tuke, Esc^.*, his two 
 
 * Mr. Tuke died in 1810, " leaving," says Mr. Hunter, the his- 
 torian of the district, " a will containing some fantastic bequests. 
 
 I 4 
 
120 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 sisters, and a relative. Miss Wainwright.^ '' Nancy 
 Wainwriglit was one of our Watli beauties, who, I am 
 afraid," says Montgomery, ^' I sometimes looked at in 
 church more than was proper.'' Every reader of Mont- 
 gomery's works will be familiar with the exquisitely 
 tender verses on ^^ Hannah;" and village tradition 
 justly identifies her with the daughter of Mr. Turner, 
 who resided at Swathe Hall, an old-fashioned mansion 
 pleasantly situated between Wath and Barnsley, which 
 the poet sometimes visited. Of the house and its 
 earlier history f we have heard him speak; but the 
 name of Hannah Turner never, in our hearing, es- 
 caped his lips. The ^^ Vigil of St. Mark," which he 
 was strongly inclined to suppress, in the general col- 
 lection of his poems, in later life, but that '' it re- 
 minded him so pleasantly of the psalm- singing at 
 funerals in Wath churchyard," was founded on a super- 
 stition prevalent in the village. He occasionally at- 
 tended an Independent chapel at the adjacent hamlet of 
 West Melton, to hear a Mr. Groves, whom Ebenezer 
 Elliott describes as '^ one of the most eloquent and 
 dignified of men." 
 
 During his brief residence at Wath, it was one part 
 of his employment — and by no means the least pleasant 
 part, considering the aspect of the neighbourhood, and 
 
 One was a sum of money to be expended every year in forty dozen 
 of penny loaves, that were to be thrown from the leads of the roof 
 of the church of Wath every Christmas Day for ever." — South 
 Yorkshire^ vol. ii. p. 73. 
 
 * Married to the late John Smelter, Esq., of Richmond, near ' 
 Sheffield. She died May 30, 1844, aged 70. 
 
 •j" In the seventeenth century, Swathe Hall was the residence of 
 a member of the Wordsworth family, who were much connected 
 with the Puritans. Good old Oliver Heywood often visited and 
 preached in the Hall during the earlier part of his strangely ha- 
 rassed life. — Hunter's Life of Heyiuood^ p. 181. 
 
LETTEK FROM HIS FATHER. 121 
 
 the opportunities it gave him of being at large — to 
 deliver goods and collect accounts at different places in 
 the vicinity. We have heard him dwell with evident 
 delight on the recollection of little journeys which he 
 used to take on horseback between Wath and the 
 hamlets of Houghton'* or Thurscoef, dwelling par- 
 ticularly on the ruminations which he used to indulge, 
 the poetic fancies he cherished, or the stealthy perusal 
 of works of fiction which he enjoyed in bowery lanes, 
 the solitude of which was then unstartled by proximity 
 to the North-Midland Railway. 
 
 While the poet was undergoing the hard but whole- 
 some discipline of his London visU, his parents were 
 pursuing their vocation amidst sufferings, literally 
 ^^unto death," in the West Indies. In a letter from 
 his father to the Moravian Brethren in Europe, dated 
 September 6th, 1790, we read, '' You have already 
 heard of the commotions in this island (Tobago), and 
 of the great fire that happened in the town. But the 
 damage done by the latter is a trifle to that occasioned 
 by a hurricane in the night between the 10th and 
 11th of August. Above twenty vessels were driven on 
 shore and lost in different parts of the island, seven of 
 which were wrecked on the coast near our dwelling. 
 
 ^ * There are two Houghtons, Little, and Long or Great Hough- 
 ton. The latter is somewhat memorable in the history of the civil 
 wars for the attack which was made upon the house of Sir Edward 
 Eodes, a zealous Parliamentarian, who resided there. In 1841 it 
 became identified with poetical associations ; Ebenezer Elliott, the 
 *' Corn Law Rhymer," having there erected and occupied the 
 house in which he lived and died. 
 
 f It was on his way from Thurscoe, one cloudy night, when the 
 planet Venus shone out so suddenly and lustrously, that the youth- 
 ful poet composed the first stanza of his charming " Ode to the 
 Evening Star,'' the whole of which, with this exception, he after- 
 wards wrote, as the title originally intimated, in "York Castle." 
 
122 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 In the country the devastation was no less sudden and 
 terrible. Mr. Hamilton's sugar-works, being above 
 seventy feet long, were totally destroyed, with all the 
 stores they contained. His elegant new mansion, which 
 was built upon pillars, was lifted up by the wind and 
 removed to some distance ; but being very well put 
 together, did not go to pieces, but was only put out of 
 square. Mrs. Hamilton fainted away and hurt her 
 face in the fall ; but two ladies, and five children, who 
 were in the house at the time, suffered little or nothing. 
 Mr. Hamilton happened to be absent, and not knowing 
 what had occurred, went home in the dark ; but in 
 seeking the door fell over the rubbish that was left 
 upon the spot, and hurt himself so much that he was 
 confined for a week. My wife had a violent fever; 
 and three days before this took place, the physician 
 visited her twice a day. I had watched with her three 
 nights. Our dwelling is old and out of repair, and 
 close adjoining was an old house miinhabited, and in a 
 ruinous condition. About eleven at night, when the 
 storm arose to a hurricane, a great part of this old 
 building was thrown upon our house, and we expected 
 every moment to be buried in the ruins of both. I ran 
 out of the house to look about me, but could see 
 nothing for rain and lightning. Rafters and shingles 
 were flying about in the air, and the storm soon forced 
 me back into our dwelling. In these few minutes the 
 rain had as thoroughly penetrated my clothes, as if I 
 had fallen into the sea. I now carried my poor sick 
 wife into an adjoining chamber; but though it was 
 very firmly built, the rain beat in at all corners, so 
 there was but one small spot where my wife could sit 
 dry. In this situation we waited till the storm abated, 
 and were graciously preserved from further harm, ex- 
 cept that my wife's illness increased, and I got so 
 
LETTEK FKOM niS FATHER. 123 
 
 violent a cold that I did not recover within a fortnight 
 after. As to the Mission^ I have not hitherto been 
 able to gain the attention of the town negroes. Many 
 of them have been baptized by the Roman CathoHc 
 priest and others, though not one of them attends any 
 public worship. I shall, therefore, direct myself in 
 future more to the plantation negroes ; and Mr. 
 Hamilton has kindly offered to procure a horse for this 
 purpose. Though many gentlemen promised their assist- 
 ance in supporting the Mission, yet I plainly perceive 
 that the burden will fall chiefly upon Mr. Hamilton. 
 Someof those who subscribed the paper sent to the Synod, 
 have left the island ; others are dead. Some think that 
 the Revolution in France has put an end to all success, 
 and discontinue their subscriptions; others have become 
 discouraged by the misfortunes that have befallen them 
 lately. Some who formerly gave me pressing invita- 
 tions to preach on their estates, never mention a word 
 of it now : but our greatest grief is that we have not 
 as yet found a single soul that seeks a Saviour." 
 
 The hurricane above mentioned, and the almost 
 simultaneous death of the Poet's mother, are described 
 in the following fragment : — 
 
 "My parents dwelt a little while 
 Upon a small Atlantic isle, 
 Where the poor Pagan Negro broke 
 His heart beneath the Christian's yoke. 
 Him to new life in vain they called. 
 By Satan more than man enthralled, 
 Deaf to the voice that said, ' be free ! ' 
 Blind to the light of Truth was he. 
 
 Ere long, rebellion scared the land 
 With noonday sword, and midnight brand ; 
 The city from its centre burned, 
 Till ocean's waves the fire-flood turned : 
 
124 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Then came a hurricane, — as all 
 
 Heaven's arch, like Dagon's house^ would fall, 
 
 And crush, 'midst one wild, wailing cry, 
 
 Earth in the ruins of the sky. 
 
 Beneath their humble cottage-roof, 
 
 By lowliness made tempest-proof. 
 
 While wind, rain, lightning raged around, 
 
 And tumbling mansions shook the ground ; 
 
 While rafters through the air were borne, 
 
 And trees were from their roots uptorn ; 
 
 Vessels affrighted sought the strand. 
 
 And ploughed long furrows on the land ; — 
 
 My father bowed his aching head 
 
 About my mother's dying bed : 
 
 From lip to lip, from heart to heart, 
 
 Passed the few parting words — ' We part!' 
 
 But echoed back, though unexpressed, 
 
 ' We meet again !' — rose in each breast. 
 
 Amidst the elemental strife. 
 
 That was the brightest hour of life : 
 
 Eternity outshone the tomb. 
 
 The power of God was in the room." 
 
 —Ex. Orig. 31 S. 
 
 The severest earthly trial of the good missionary had 
 befallen him. Under date of November 10th, 1790, 
 he says, ^' With a heart deeply affected, I must inform 
 you, that it has pleased the Lord to take my dear wife 
 home to eternal rest, on the 23rd of October. Her 
 illness was a fever, which lasted seven days. In the 
 beginning no danger was apprehended; but on the fifth 
 day the physican expressed some fears. I asked her 
 whether she was going to leave me alone in this island? 
 She replied, ^ Indeed I should wish to remain longer 
 with you, knowing how much you want my assistance ; 
 but, the Lord's will be done.' I then said, ^ But if it 
 should please Him to call you home, can you go with 
 
DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. 125 
 
 full confidence into His presence as a ransomed sinner, 
 and are you assured that He will graciously receive?' 
 ' O yes,' said she, without any hesitation, ' He indeed 
 knows my weakness and unworthiness ; but He knows 
 also that my whole reliance is upon His death and merits, 
 by which I, poor sinful creature, have been redeemed, 
 and I am assuredly convinced that I shall be with Him 
 alway, &c.' This conversation we had in the evening 
 of the 21st, and I rejoiced the more to have heard this 
 declaration, as the violence of the fever soon broucht 
 on delirium. She thought herself in perfect healtli, 
 and frequently declared that she felt not the least pain ; 
 however, she took her medicine patiently, and lay quiet. 
 The 23rd at noon she lost her speech, and at three 
 o'clock fell gently asleep in Jesus, during a prayer 
 which I offered up, more with tears than words. Mr. 
 Hamilton and the minister of the Church of England 
 were present ; and the minister exclaimed, ^ God is 
 truly present here ! ' Mr. Hamilton immediately desired 
 me not to trouble myself about the burial, for he 
 would take care of every thing. This he did in the 
 most generous and liberal manner. As there is no 
 regular churchyard here, but all are buried upon 
 their own estates, her remains were interred in a corner 
 of our garden. A pretty numerous company attended, 
 and the minister read the Church of England service at 
 the grave. Every thing was conducted with great 
 solemnity and propriety. My dear late wife was 
 just turned of forty-eight, and we had lived twenty-two 
 years in the married state. Of four children given to 
 us three sons are still living. She is now at rest, but 
 her great gain is a heavy loss to me. May the Lord 
 our Saviour comfort me ! He is my only refuge ; and 
 I confess, to His praise, I feel His presence and peace in 
 an abundant degree. As to futurity, I commit myself 
 
126 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 and the Mission in this island into His gracious direc- 
 tion and care. 
 
 *^JoHN Montgomery." 
 
 This Christian missionary now stood alone, and in a dis- 
 tant land. The very signing of his solitary name, which 
 had always previously been associated with that of his 
 beloved Mary in his letters^ would remind him of his 
 loss. The worthy couple had lived togetlier in fond 
 affection, and their hearts had clung still closer in their 
 late calamity. She had been to him like a never- 
 clouded star, shedding joy and consolation on all his 
 hours ; and now it was his solace, that although death's 
 dark shadow had passed over her on earth, she would 
 reappear with undimmed beauty in another hemisphere. 
 He felt a consecrated power in the exercise of faitli, 
 which gained additional strength in these trying cir- 
 cumstances ; and when the outward signs of grief, 
 sighing and tears, had somewhat passed away, religion 
 and its effects appeared calm and beautiful, like the 
 moon saddening the solemnity of night, but with that 
 sadness mingling nothing but the breath of undisturbed 
 peace. No memorial marks the grave of this female 
 evangelist; nor do her ashes repose in consecrated 
 ground : a spot is traditionally pointed out, in what was 
 the little garden attached to the temporary and en- 
 forced residence of the missionary, where it is believed 
 her body rests; her husband '^ thus taking possession, 
 though ' hoping against hope,' of the land where he had 
 sojourned with her as a stranger for a few months 
 only." 
 
 What this truly good man had thus communicated 
 relative to his beloved partner in life, another person 
 had soon to communicate respecting him. In a letter 
 from Barbadoes, dated July 5th, 1791, written by Mr. 
 
DEATH OF REV. JOHN MONTGOMERY. ]27 
 
 John Fritz, we read, " Our dear brother, John Mont- 
 gomery, arrived with us on the 13th of March from 
 Tobago, very much weakened by a violent dysentery, 
 which baffled all efforts to restore his health, though all 
 possible means were used ; and on the 27th of June 
 the Lord was pleased to call him hence, to rest with 
 Him for ever. He fell happily asleep, as a ransomed 
 sinner, rejoicing in God his Saviour, upon whose atone- 
 ment he rested all his hopes, and now seeth Him face to 
 face in whom he believed, and of whose cross and death 
 he bore many testimonies before whites and blacks. 
 A great number of both attended his funeral on the 
 28th, though the day was rainy. You may easily be- 
 lieve that our late brother's illness, which lasted sixteen 
 weeks, put us to no small inconvenience. The room 
 in which the negroes meet was the only place in which 
 we could lodge him, and we have no other dining-room. 
 At present no other arrangement is practicable. My 
 assistant, brother Haman, has been very ill of a dan- 
 gerous complaint, but is now on the mending hand." ^ 
 
 This account, which seems rather frigid in its close, 
 and is given something in the way in which an old 
 warrior, who has been accustomed to scenes of death, 
 would relate the loss of a man from the ranks, was 
 sufficient to satisfy the minds of the orphan children of 
 the Christian exit of their honoured father. A grove 
 of tamarind trees marks the missionary's grave in the 
 burying-ground connected with the old station called 
 Sharo??, in St. Thomas's parish, Barbadoes; but whether 
 planted before or since his interment, we are not aware. 
 Anxious to ascertain whether there was any monument 
 erected on the spot, a note of inquiry was addressed to 
 W. Mallalieu, Esq., who visited all the Brethren's 
 
 * Period. Accounts, p. 72 — 79. 
 
128 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Mission Stations in the West Indies some years ago. 
 He informs us that there are no buildings oii the 
 Sharon station at present ; " but the burial-ground is 
 still fenced in by trees. The tropical vegetation has 
 completely hidden all trace of tombstone— if there ever 
 was any. It is a pretty secluded spot^ at some distance 
 from the high road." 
 
 The Mission at Tobago, after the death of Mr. John 
 Montgomery, was suspended till 1799, when, at the 
 request and under the auspices of Mr. Hamilton, it 
 was renewed. But, owing to the death of that gentle- 
 man and a variety of other circumstances, the island 
 was abandoned in 1803, and this is numbered by Mr. 
 J. Holmes among the ^' unsuccessful missions " of the 
 United Brethren.* This Mission cost at least two lives, 
 for Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery were, to all human 
 appearance, sacrificed in its behalf. 
 
 The memorial of such parents is worthy of being 
 handed down to posterity with any record of such a son as 
 the Moravian Bard : although denied the advantage of 
 having their example before his eyes, yet to their 
 counsels and to their prayers he doubtless owed much. 
 With great feelinGr have we heard him advert to his 
 parents, when pleading the cause of the heathen in 
 public meetings ; and, as if to apologise for his appear- 
 ance on a platform among regularly officiating ministers, 
 to add weight to his remarks, and to evince his deep 
 sense of the obligations under which he was laid, ex- 
 claiming, '^ I am the Son of a Missionary!" Far, 
 however, from being contracted in his views or his aid, 
 he has been heard with no less vehemence to exclaim, 
 " 1 know but of one Mission — the Mission of the Son 
 of God — the propagation of our common Christianity 
 
 * Holmes's Historical Sketclies, p. 4G3. 
 
TRIBUTE TO HIS PAEENTS' MEMORY. 129 
 
 through the world, by Christian Missionaries of every 
 denomination !" And hence, as we shall hereafter see, 
 he lent his pecuniary aid, as well as his talents and in- 
 fluence, to Churchmen, Methodists, Baptists, Indepen- 
 dents, and Moravians. 
 
 A mind like Montgomery's must have been deeply 
 affected with these tidings of the death of his parents; 
 nor was it likely that he would ultimately sufier them 
 to be forgotten in the silence of the grave. Accord- 
 ingly, he thus alludes to the subject in his ^^ Departed 
 Days:'' — 
 
 " The loud Atlantic ocean, 
 
 On Scotland's rugged breast, 
 
 Rocks with harmonious motion 
 
 His weary waves to rest, 
 
 And gleaming round her emerald isles, 
 
 Jn all the pomp of sunset smiles. 
 
 On that romantic shore 
 
 My parents hail'd their first-born boy, 
 
 A mother's pangs a mother bore, 
 
 My father felt a father's joy : 
 
 My father, mother, — parents now no more! 
 
 Beneath the lion-star they sleep, 
 
 Beyond the western deep, 
 And when the sun's noon-glory crests the waves, 
 He shines without a shadow on their graves. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 " Sweet seas and smiling shores ! 
 When no torn ado- demon roars. 
 Resembling that celestial clime, 
 Where with the Spirits of the Blest, 
 Beyond the hurricane of Time, 
 From all their toils my parents rest : 
 There skies, eternally serene, 
 Diffuse ambrosial balm 
 VOL. I. K 
 
130 MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMEPwY. 
 
 Through sylvan isles for ever green, 
 
 O'er seas for ever calm ; 
 While saints and angels, kindling in his rays, 
 On the full glory of the Godhead gaze. 
 And taste and prove, in that transporting sight, 
 Joy without sorrow, without darkness light." 
 
131 
 
 CHAR X. 
 
 1791—1792. 
 
 MONTGOIMErvY SEES A^D AKSWERS AN ADVERTISEMENT OF A SITUA- 
 TION AT SnEFFIELD. — GOES INTO THE FAMILY OF MR. GALES, IN 
 
 THAT TOWN. ACCOMPANIES HIS MASTER TO SELL A LIBRARY OF 
 
 BOOKS AT ASITFORD. IMPLICIT CONFIDENCE IN HIS INTEGRITY. 
 
 ROBERTS. BARNARD, " POET-LAUREATE OF SHEFFIELD." MASON. 
 
 DIBDIN. TEGG. GALES's AT ECKINGTON. POET MEETS WITH 
 
 EBENEZER RHODES. — POLITICS. RETROSPECT. 
 
 The year in which Montgomery attained his majority 
 was destined to be remembered as one of the most im- 
 portant in the history of his life, marking, as it does, the 
 period of his settlement in that sphere of labour, in- 
 fluence, and respectability, which was only circumscribed 
 by the duration of his existence on earth. 
 
 He was one day at Great Houghton, near Barnsley, 
 collecting, as usual, the weekly accounts of Mr. Hunt, 
 when he took up the '' Sheffield Register," a news- 
 paper published by Mr. Gales, and read in it the follow- 
 ing advertisement: — ^^ Wanted, in a Counting-house, 
 in Sheffield, A Clerk. None need apply but such as 
 have been used to Book-keeping, and can produce un- 
 deniable testimonials of character. Terms and speci- 
 mens of writing to be left with the printer." * 
 
 This w^as a situation tliat accorded so exactly with 
 Montgomery's notions and necessities at the moment, 
 that he immediately wrote a letter to the advertiser, 
 
 * '' Sheffield llcgisteiV' March 2. 1792. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MOXTGOMEEY. 
 
 containing some account of himself, and serving also as 
 a specimen of his hand-writing ^^ at the same time soli- 
 citing the place. Gales sent for him to Sheffield ; and 
 the interview resulted in an engagement on trial, to 
 commence with the the first week in April, 1792. 
 
 Joseph Gales, of Sheffield, in imitation of his old 
 master Tomlinson, of Newark, combined the vocations 
 of printer, bookseller, and auctioneer — an arrangement 
 far from unusual at that time ; and, oddly enough, it 
 was in connection with the last-named branch of his 
 employer's business that Montgomery's service began. 
 Gales, having a large sale of books, &c., at the residence 
 of the Rev. John Bullock, at Cliff End, Ashford-in-the- 
 Water, near Bakewell, sent for Montgomery to go with 
 him thither in the capacity of clerk. He accordingly 
 went on the 19th of March, 1792, the first of the five 
 days of sale; and we have heard him mention the regret 
 with which he saw *' Parson Bullock's old folios pass 
 through his hands without being able to read more of 
 them than their titles," f and, as a proof of the confiding 
 simplicity of his employer, the fact, that he, a young 
 man almost unknown, was left night after night in that 
 
 ^ His penmanship at tliis period cliiefly differed from that of a 
 later date in being more stiff and formal. In the letter alluded to, 
 he wrote in a large flourishmg character the words " God save 
 THE King," an indication of youthful loyalty, at the sight of which 
 Mrs. Gales laughed heartily, and which even now seems a some- 
 what odd prelude to the fact that, within three short years, he who 
 wrote and he who received the sentiment were both implicated in 
 charges of sedition ! 
 
 I There were two other libraries sold by Gales, which we have 
 heard Montgomery say he should like to have rummaged over 
 viz., Mr. Greenway's, of the Manor House at Dronfield, Sept. 17., 
 in the same year, and Mr. Newton's, at Norton — the '' Squire 
 Newton," who figures so conspicuously in one of the stories of 
 Plumcr Ward's " Human Life." 
 
HIS RESIDENCE AT SHEFFIELD. 133 
 
 lonely house '^ with the proceeds of each clay's sale in his 
 charge, while Mr. Gales went over to his wife at Buxton : 
 added to this, the nervousness which he not unnaturally 
 felt when, at the close of the auction, he left the house, 
 traversed the hills of the '' High Peak," and slept with 
 a strange bed-fellow at Bakewell, with between three 
 and four hundred golden guineas in his pocket ! In the 
 inn, he noticed a prospectus of the ^^ Looker-On," by 
 Mr. Roberts, a gentleman whom Montgomery re- 
 cognised, fifty years afterwards, as respectably connected 
 with the literature of the age. f On the 2nd of April 
 he came finally to reside at Sheffield, where, with the 
 exception of his master, he knew not the face, much 
 less enjoyed the friendship, of a single individual — 
 
 '' All else that breathed below the circling sky, 
 Were linked to earth by some endearing tie ; — 
 He only, like the ocean weed uptorn, 
 And loose along the world of waters borne, 
 Was cast, companionless, from wave to wave, 
 On life's rough sea — and there was none to save." 
 
 Indeed, he remarked publicly, in 1845, that there was 
 not probably a more solitary being than himself to 
 be found in the town, on the dark Sunday evening, 
 when he crossed the Ladies' Bridge, and walked up the 
 market-place, towards his untried home in the bosom 
 of the kind family which then received him. It is 
 almost impossible to record the first arrival of Mont- 
 
 * Every visitor to Asliford must have noticed this house, so 
 * beautifully situated under the hill side, near the margin of the 
 Wye, and covered in front with a fine mantle of ivy. It is only a 
 few hundred yards from the celebrated black marble mine, and the 
 works at which the material is wrought into a variety of elegant 
 articles. 
 
 t Author of " Life of Hannah More," " History of Letter- 
 
 Writing," &c. 
 
 K 3 
 
134 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 gomery, under the circumstances indicated^ in a place 
 where he was thereafter so long and so largely to act 
 an important part, without contrasting the Sheffield of 
 1792 with the Sheffield of 1854. While the town did 
 not cover one-third of its present area, its inhabitants 
 were not more than one-fourth of their present number; 
 to the three or four churches then existing, a score 
 have been added ; of the crowd of steam-engine chimneys 
 which at this day rise in every direction, like the mina- 
 rets of an eastern city, not more than one or two were 
 visible at that time ; and although the last vestige of 
 the ancient castle had just been removed, a coppice of 
 oak scrub, and an ivied tower at the manor-house, still 
 remained of the ancient scenery of ^^ The Park." On 
 the first Sunday after his residence, the stranger was 
 taken to '^Ladies' Walk,'' then a pleasant and favourite 
 promenade of the inhabitants, now one of the dingiest 
 and dirtiest of suburban streets. On the following Sun- 
 day he went to look at Broomhall, the pleasant resi- 
 dence of '^Justice Wilkinson," which had recently been 
 attacked by a riotous mob, who had 
 
 " Scared his rooks, 
 Destroyed his books, 
 
 And set his stacks on fire." 
 
 Mr. Gales lived not in one of the main streets, but 
 in the more open part of a busy thoroughfare, called 
 ^' The Hartshead." The shop, however, was com- 
 modious, and the frontage, at that time considered 
 handsome, included a highly ornamental pair of bow 
 windows, the first, we believe, which had then been 
 seen in the town : he had three young children, Joseph, 
 Thomas, and Sarah. 
 
 It would doubtless have been highly advantageous to 
 Montgomery in every respect, had he found, on his 
 
ATTENDS VARIOUS PLACES OF WORSHIP. 135 
 
 arrival in Sheffield, and associated himself with, mem- 
 bers of the Moravian community ; but, with a single 
 exception^ none such were to be found. Mr. Gales 
 and his family attended the Unitarian chapel f, and 
 thither their inmate occasionally went with them : on 
 the Sunday evening he sometimes dropped into the 
 Methodist chapel. On the whole, however, we are afraid 
 his attendance at a place of worship was by no means 
 so constant at this time as it had been at Fulneck. 
 
 The father, mother, and three sisters of Mr. Gales 
 at this time resided — where, indeed, they were born — 
 at Eckington, a pleasant village about six miles south 
 of Sheffield J : thither Montgomery often walked, cither 
 
 * This was the widow of Mr. Creswick, the owner of a paper- 
 mill at Brightside, near Sheffield. She was a clever woman of 
 business, and at her house Montgomery, and any of the Brethren 
 who happened to visit the town, were in the habit of calling. On 
 leaving Sheffield, Mrs. C. went to reside near the Moravian chapel 
 at Ockbrook, in a house which she left to the Brethren there. 
 
 f The preachers who occupied the pulpit about the period 
 alluded to, are thus characterised by a friendly pen : — "In his 
 youth" — the youth of the writer's father — " Mr. Dickinson and Mr. 
 Evans were the ministers, who used phrases which were relics of 
 orthodoxy, though meaning nothing, or next to nothing, as used by 
 them. More were dropped when Mr. Naylor became the sole 
 minister in 1798 ; and under Dr. Philipps the congregation at 
 Sheffield ranked itself under the term Unitariany — Hunter's Gens 
 Sylvestrina^ p. 183. 
 
 X The living of Eckington — a rich rectory — was held by Dr. Grif- 
 fith, who died in 1765 ; — along with it, he held two or three other 
 valuable incumbencies, which often led to severe reflections on his 
 character as a pluralist. He was, indeed, said to be the original 
 of a celebrated caricature, which represents a burly clergyman in 
 a prone position, with his hands on two churches, his feet on two 
 others, and his mouth agape at a fifth ! But this may have been 
 a slander, as well as a story current at Eckington, to the effect, 
 that when the rebels were approaching Derby in 1745, the Doctor 
 thought proper to preach a loyal sermon on the words, " The 
 wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the righteous are bold 
 
 K 4 
 
136 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEKY. 
 
 alone, or with the young ladies — the road lying mostly 
 amidst pleasant fields, or through little hamlets, where, 
 at that time, the Hallamshire sickle-makers manufac- 
 tured, during the winter, those widely reputed imple- 
 ments in the using of which they commonly jomed their 
 rural neighbours in the harvest season. It was on one 
 of these country walks, that Montgomery first met 
 with the late Ebenezer Rhodes, the author of '^ Peak 
 Scenery,'^ and whose name will frequently occur in 
 these pages. 
 
 Soon after Montgomery's domiciliation in Mr. Gales's 
 family, he had pointed out to him the fugitive com- 
 positions of a local Quaker poet, Robert Barnard, who 
 had published some lines descriptive of Sheffield, which 
 were more striking than complimentar}^ : for instance, 
 he described, and not untruly, the atmosphere of the 
 town as so charged with smoke rising from the chim- 
 neys of numerous manufactories, that 
 
 " The sun at noon hangs in his azure field, 
 Dull, red, and glowing like a copper shield.'^ 
 
 With less justice he said of the countenances of the 
 fair sex — 
 
 ^^ Should Venus give the promise of a rose, 
 The breath of Vulcan blasts it ere it blows ; 
 Roots up the lily from its native bed. 
 And plants the sickly crocus in its stead." 
 
 as a Hon;' in the midst of his deUvery of which, a rumour beino- 
 hastily brought into the church that the Pretender was near at 
 hand, parson and people afforded a prompt and practical illustra- 
 tion of the first part of the text by suddenly running off as fast as 
 they could ! We have heard Montgomery tell both stories, but 
 always with the accompaniment of a doubt, and always, also, with 
 an added expression of thankfulness to two grand-dauo"hters of the 
 Kev. Doctor, who left between them legacies amounting to more 
 than 1,000Z. to the Sheffield General Infirmary. 
 
MASON. DIBDm. 137 
 
 There was little, however, about this '' poet-laureate 
 of Sheffield/' as he called himself, to excite either the 
 curiosity or provoke the emulation of the new-corner : 
 but It was far otherwise with regard to another living 
 member of the chori vatum. About six miles from 
 Sheffield resided at this time the poet Mason, at his 
 rectory of Aston, a spot still adorned with memorials of 
 the visit of Gray, and other evidences of the taste of 
 the author of the '' English Garden." Montgomery 
 was very anxious to have seen Mason— ^^ a real living 
 poet, who had published a volume : " a gratification, 
 however, which he never enjoyed. He soon learnt also 
 that his own introduction into the family of Mr. Gales 
 was not the first instance of their intimacy with a livijig 
 poet. In 1787-8 Charles Dibdin, the once popular 
 song writer, visited Sheffield, in the course of that pro- 
 fessional tour which he made through the provinces 
 after the failure of his theatrical projects in London, 
 and before he became so popular through his '' Sea- 
 songs." He spent some weeks at the village of Ecking- 
 ton with the parents and sisters of Mr. Gales, of whom 
 he invariably speaks in terms of gratitude and respect.* 
 
 * Mr. Gales printed the '' Musical Tour of Mr. Dibdin ; in 
 which, previous to his embarkation for India, he finished his career 
 as a Public Character." 1788. The volume is a handsome quarto 
 of more than four hundred pages. It is in the form of a series of 
 letters, which, abating the swearing, are many of them entertaining 
 enough. The author's style is throughout most querulous, egotis- 
 tical, and verbose ; and his estimate of all persons and all places 
 is in accordance with their estimate of his '' Readings and Music;" 
 indeed, this feelinof sometimes leads him into most amusins^ sallies 
 of vituperation and personality. The ground of this ill-feeling is 
 found in the fact, that his Entertainment was almost every where 
 unsuccessful, which need not be wondered at, imless the matter, as 
 represented in the Tour, was greatly set off by the vocal and instru- 
 mental accompaniments of the performer ; the verses, although 
 
138 MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMEEY. 
 
 He was visited by Mason, with whom, at Aston rectory, 
 he dined once or twice. 
 
 Soon after Montgomery's settlement at Sheffield, 
 there came to solicit employment with Mr. Gales, as a 
 
 better than the prose, afford not the slightest earnest of those 
 patriotic songs, naval and military, which even yet embalm the 
 name of the author; nor was Partridge, the almanack-maker, more 
 annoyed by the persistency of Swift, in writing him deod^ than 
 Dibdin was indignant to have to encounter doubts or denials of 
 his personal identity : individuals who had seen or heard him on 
 the London stage refused to believe that the (as they alleged) man 
 who could not fill a small room in a provincial town was " the Mr. 
 Dibdin, whom all the world knows, the composer of The Padlock^ 
 and The Jidjilee^ and Poor Vulcan^ and The Quaker^ and all those 
 other charming pieces we have been delighted with." The follow- 
 ing is at once complimentary to the Sheffield printer, and illustra- 
 tive of the errant author : — " Of Mr. Gales I scarcely know how 
 to speak. He is the printer of this work : if, therefore, I should 
 use slight language, it will look like a compact between us ; and if 
 I am lavish in my praises of him, some may be apt to quote Shak- 
 speare, and say ' a little flattery sometimes does well.' I should, 
 therefore, feel myself awkwardly situated but for one circumstance, 
 which has major, minor, and CONCLUSION in its favour, as 
 clearly as any problem in Euclid. Before I ever saw Mr. Gales, I 
 had received numberless civilities at the hands of different printers^ 
 from many of whom I had offers to print my Tour ; after I knew 
 Mr. Gales, I preferred him to all the printers I had seen. Thus 
 I am enabled, by a self-evident circumstance, to express my senti- 
 ments as strongly as by trying my hand at a studied panegyrick ; 
 which, had I done in the sort of style my wishes led me to, I should 
 have been obliged to have enjoined Mr. Gales's foreman to have 
 printed it unknown to his master ; for so diffident is he of his own 
 worth, that I should never have prevailed on him to let that issue 
 from the press which would have been as great a credit to the 
 public as anything that ever did pass through it. Another circum- 
 stance will by and by oblige me to speak in Mr. Gales's favour, in 
 spite of his teeth. Among my general subjects, it will be very 
 proper to take up newspapers ; in which case it would be very im- 
 proper not to mention the "Sheffield Eegister" with that degree of 
 praise it deserves." — Tour^ p. 206. 
 
TEGG. 139 
 
 bookbinder, " a fine-looking young man, with extra- 
 ordinary eyebrows," who called himself Johnson, and 
 had been employed by Spence, of York. It afterwards 
 turned out that the real name of this individual, who 
 soon left Sheffield, was Tegg — the poet always believ- 
 ing him to be the same person afterwards so well known 
 as a London bookseller.* 
 
 It may also be mentioned, that he accidentally saw at 
 this period a poem, the author of which was destined 
 to take no mean rank in that "living choir" whose 
 songs presently charmed the new century, and nearly the 
 whole of whom he outlived. Among the compositors 
 in Mr. Gales's printing office was one who had been 
 engaged in ^^ setting up " the matter of the first edition 
 of Rogers's ^^ Pleasures of Memory," the proof sheets of 
 which, in quarto size, he had with him. In this shape 
 Montgomery first read an exquisite work, the quiet and 
 varied beauties of which he probably learnt to admire 
 more, after his own taste and judgment had become 
 more matured and chastened than they were at this 
 earl)^ and enthusiastic period of his life. This ^^ press 
 copy " had no author's name ; and all that its owner 
 knew on that subject was the rumour, in the London 
 establishment where he had worked, that the poem was 
 written by '^ one Parson Harrison ! " 
 
 Holland: ^^ Do you remember anything of Count 
 Zenobia, who visited Sheffield about the time of your 
 arrival there, and intermeddled, as a liberal partisan, with 
 the politics of the day ? " Montgomery : '' Yes ; he was, 
 I believe, a Venetian nobleman : he was a smart little 
 
 * Montgomery lived to verify this opinion. Mr. Tegg died 
 April 21. 184G, aged seventy; and, in a brief notice of his enter- 
 prlsino- and successful career, which was published in various news- 
 papers at that time, his employment in the office of Mr. Gales 
 was distinctly mentioned. 
 
140 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 personage, with a Napoleon nose. Mr. Gales printed 
 for him an ' Address to the People of England, on 
 the part their Government ought to act in the present 
 war between the combined armies of Austria and 
 Prussia, and the armed mob of France.' " 
 
 We have not yet had occasion even to allude to 
 politics — a subject with which almost the whole of 
 Montgomery's life, from this point, may be said to have 
 been identified. It might, indeed, well be asked — 
 What could a young man, brought up in the seclusion 
 of the country, and almost wholly given to verse-making, 
 know about the operation of those principles upon 
 which the right government of his own country, and 
 the maintenance of its relation to other countries, 
 depends? We should be tempted to answer — 
 nothing at all ; did we not recollect what apt pupils 
 men usually become, when their passions and their 
 interests are enlisted on the side of their studies. At 
 this period the French Revolution was just at its 
 height, — the tragical execution of the King and 
 Queen took place in France : and in this country, 
 many persons who did not dare to advocate such a 
 consummation of their hatred to royalty, were not 
 averse to referring to that tremendous catastrophe, as 
 an argument for great governmental changes in England. 
 The Jacobins — as the whole class of political doc- 
 trinists were popularly designated — entertained views 
 more or less extreme, according to circumstances : 
 some were enamoured of the ancient heathen republics, 
 and appealed, in their arguments, to classical autho- 
 rities ; others, more practical, had an eye on the young 
 democracies of the United States ; a few were content 
 to refer to the natural capabilities of the British Con- 
 stitution for yielding, without actual danger or essential 
 change, to the demand for those improvements which 
 
RETROSPECT. 141 
 
 time had rendered necessary. By far the greater propor- 
 tion, however, were more or less aJEFected with the French 
 mania ; and, as a sympathy between the malcontents on 
 both sides of the water was strong and avowed, the 
 danger of mischief, from this somxe at least, was pro- 
 portionately imminent. Thus the movement of the 
 time embraced, collectively, all sorts of alterations in 
 the existing system of government, from simple reform 
 to downright revolution. To which point on this scale 
 the political conduct and opinions of Mr. Gales were 
 most truly referable, the reader shall presently be 
 enabled to judge for himself. Meanwhile, the following 
 remarks on this period, and on the character of his old 
 master in relation to it, calmly written, as they were, 
 by Montgomery himself, when taking a retrospective 
 view of his entrance upon the stage of public life, will 
 be read with interest. 
 
 ^^ I came to Sheffield in the spring of 1792, a 
 stranger, and friendless, without any intention or pros- 
 pect of making a long residence in it, much less of 
 advancing myself, either by industry or talents, to a 
 situation that should give me the opportunity of doing 
 much evil or much good, as I might act with indis- 
 cretion or temperance. The whole nation, at that time, 
 was disturbed from its propriety by the example and 
 influence of revolutionised France ; nor was there a 
 district in the kingdom more agitated by the passions 
 and the prejudices of the day than this. The people of 
 Sheffield, in whatever contempt they may have been 
 held by supercilious censors, ignorant of their character, 
 were then, as they are now, and as I hope they ever 
 will be, a reading and a thinking people. According 
 to the knowledge which they had, therefore, they 
 judged for themselves on the questions of reform in 
 parliament, liberty of speech, and of the press, the 
 
142 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 rights of man, and other egregious paradoxes, con- 
 cerning which the wisest and best of men have always 
 been divided, and never were more so than at the 
 period above mentioned, when the decision, either way, 
 was not to be merely speculative, but practical, and to 
 affect permanently the condition of all classes of persons 
 in the realm, from the monarch to the pauper, — so 
 deep, comprehensive, and prospective was the view 
 taken by every body, on the issue of the controversy. 
 The two parties, in Sheffield, as elsewhere, arrayed 
 themselves on the contrary extremes ; some being for 
 every thing that was old, the rest for every thing that 
 was new. There was no moderation on either side ; 
 each had a little of the truth, while the main body of 
 it lay between ; yet it was not for this that they were 
 contending (like the Trojans and Greeks for the body 
 of Patroclus), but for those few dissevered limbs which 
 they already possessed. 
 
 '^ It was at ' the height of this great argument ' 
 that I was led into the thickest of the conflict, though, 
 happily for myself, under no obligation to take an 
 active share in it. With all the enthusiasm of youth 
 — for I had not then arrived at what are called years 
 of discretion — I entered into the feelings of those who 
 avowed themselves the friends of freedom, justice, and 
 humanity. Those with w^hom I was immediately con- 
 nected, verily were such ; and had all the reformers of 
 that era been generous, upright, and disinterested, 
 like the noble-minded proprietor of the '' Sheffield 
 Register," the cause which they espoused w^ould never 
 have been disgraced, and might have prevailed^ even at 
 that time, since there could have been nothing to fear, 
 and all to hope, from patriotic measures supported by 
 patriotic men. Though with every pulse of my heart 
 beating in favour of the popular doctrines, my retired 
 
RETROSPECT. 143 
 
 and religious education had laid restraints upon my 
 conscience — I may say so fearlessly — which long kept 
 me back from personally engaghig in the civil war of 
 w^ords then raging through the neighbourhood, beyond 
 an occasional rhyme, paragraph, or essay, in the news- 
 paper, written rather for the purpose of showing my 
 literary than my political qualifications. Ignorant of 
 myself, and inexperienced in the world as a child of 
 seven years old — having actually not lived so long 
 among its every-day inhabitants, even when I became 
 the Editor of the ^' Iris" — I nevertheless was preserved 
 from joining myself to any of the political societies till 
 they were broken up in 1794, when I confess I did 
 associate with the remnant of one for a purpose which 1 
 shall never be ashamed to avow — to support the 
 families of several of the accused leaders, who were 
 detained prisoners in London, under the suspension of 
 the Habeas Corpus Act, and were finally discharged 
 without having been brought to trial." 
 
144 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 1792—1793. 
 
 THE " SHEFFIELD REGISTER. " — ITS CHARACTER. MRS. GALES WRITES 
 
 IN IT. A NOVEL FROM HER PEN. POLITICAL EXCITEMENT IN SHEF- 
 FIELD. BARRACKS. RECRUITING PARTIES. — REFORM JMEETING ON 
 
 CASTLE HILL. MR. GALES PRESIDES AT IT. FOUNDATION OF THE 
 
 GENERAL INFIRMARY. — CHURCH AND WARMING-PAN. — MONTGOIilERY'S 
 "CHALLENGE." — CONDUCT OF HIS ADVERSARY. NORTHALL PUB- 
 LISHER OF THE "SHEFFIELD COURANT." — ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF 
 COLONEL BOSVILLE. — SONNET. 
 
 The quotation at the close of the preceding chapter de- 
 scribes with equal frankness, simplicity, and fidelity, 
 the position and views of Montgomery, on his first con- 
 tact with the perilous influences and responsibilities of 
 political journalism. 
 
 The ^'Shefiield Register" advocated parliamentary re- 
 form and popular rights in plain and fearless terms ; at 
 the same time it was open to correspondents of all 
 shades of opinion. In the number for February 1. 
 1792, appeared an article signed J. M., in which the 
 writer says, ^* For myself (and I do not think that I am 
 speaking the solitary sentiments of an individual only), 
 I have no hesitation in declaring that I have never 
 been friendly, even in thought, to the exclusive appli- 
 cation of republican maxims in government. I do not 
 go the length of those who declaim against a republic 
 as the worst of governments in the ancient or modern 
 world ! But I confess I see nothing that an English- 
 man has to envy in the comparative condition of man- 
 
A NOVEL BY MRS. GALES. . 145 
 
 kind, in the more splendid periods of Greek and Roman 
 greatness ; nor do I think that the examples of our 
 own age promise to afford more persuasive arguments 
 in its favour. It is a mode of government well calcu- 
 lated, indeed, to call forth the exertions and display 
 the energies of the human intellect, and, as such, 
 highly flattering to the genius and ambition of particu- 
 lar men. But who woukl infer from this that it is 
 more likely to promote public felicity ? I think with 
 those who consider the state of manners in Europe as 
 too depraved to admit of being regulated by any means 
 short of strong coercion ; and as the executive power 
 of government must be lodged somewhere, is it not 
 better that it should be exercised in any one regular, 
 permanent, and uniform manner, than ever varying its 
 temper, and left to fluctuate from the hand of one 
 demagogue to another, whether he be the successful 
 general at the head of an army, or the leading orator of 
 a popular assembly ?" 
 
 These are nervous and sensible expressions, but 
 they also indicate a writer of years and experience; 
 and it is probably only by accident that they bear the 
 initials of our young reformer, whose ostensible con- 
 nection with the paper had not then commenced ; nor 
 do we meet with any other contribution to the '^ Re- 
 gister" to which that signature is attached, during the 
 remainder of the year, though several paragraphs appear 
 to be the productions of the same pen. Many of these, 
 however, were written by Mrs. Gales, a lady of some 
 taste and talent*, who rendered her husband efhcient 
 
 * Mrs. Gales wrote a novel, In three volumes, entitled '' Lady 
 Emma Melcombe," for the copyright of which Robinson, of Pater- 
 noster Row, gave her twenty-five guineas. But she ventured be- 
 yond newspaper paragraphs and other light and fugitive Uterature, 
 
 VOL. !• L 
 
146 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 assistance in the conduct of the paper^ and whose con- 
 versations and kindness had no inconsiderable influence 
 in the formation of Montgomery's character at this 
 period. 
 
 But whether Montgomery had or had not as yet im- 
 bibed a taste for^ or tried his hand at, political writing, 
 he was not likely long to withstand the influence of the 
 scenes and circumstances by which he was surrounded. 
 The very first year of his residence in Sheffield was 
 marked by tlie hasty erection of barracks for the accom- 
 modation of 200 cavalry; and the twenty-first anniver- 
 sary of his own birthday, Nov. 4. — unnoticed in refer- 
 ence to himself — was distinguished by a public dinner 
 at the Tontine Hotel, in commemoration of the Revo- 
 lution of 1688. At the beginning of 1793, the period 
 comprised in this chapter, there were not fewer than 
 thirty recruiting parties in the town, engaged in enlist- 
 ing men for the anticipated war with France, the 
 formal declaration of which, in the month of August, 
 ^^gave," says the local historian, ^^such a check to the 
 commerce of the town, as occasioned gloom and dismay 
 to overspread every class of its population."* On the 8th 
 of April, a large public meeting was held on the Castle 
 Hill, Mr. Gales in the chair, when it was resolved^ 
 ^' That a reform in the representation of the people 
 in Parliament is necessary for the peace and happiness 
 of the country ; and that a petition be presented to 
 the House of Commons, praying for the thorough re- 
 form thereof." This petition was introduced on the 
 6th of May ; and, after a long and spirited discussion^ 
 
 having been, as her sister-in-law told us, the writer of many of the 
 notes in a folio edition of the Bible, which was published by Mr. 
 Gales. 
 
 * Hunter's Hallamshire, p. 128, 
 
FOUNDATION OF SHEFFIELD INFIRMARY. 147 
 
 rejected, as containing expressions disrespectful to the 
 House. Amidst the records of a period thus distracted 
 with sounds of martial music and the strife of noisy 
 political debate, it is a relief to find that the '' stiU 
 small voice" of charity was neither uttered nor heard 
 in vain. On the 4th of September, the first stone of 
 the Sheffield General Infirmary, ^^ for the sick and lame 
 poor of all nations," was laid by Mr. Swallow, as the 
 representative of Mrs. Fell, of New Hall, the donor of 
 1,000/. The public officers of the town were present, 
 and so was Montgomery, as a humble spectator of the 
 ceremony ; and he was, perhaps, of the 20,000 indivi- 
 duals on the ground, the least likely person at that 
 time, either in the opinion of himself or others, ever to 
 occupy, as he afterwards did for many years, the presi- 
 dent's chair at the Weekly Board of Management of 
 that noble institution. 
 
 About this time, our author wrote, and printed in 
 the newspaper, a humorous story, entitled the '' His- 
 tory of a Church and a Warmingpan." The proto- 
 type of this jeii'd'esprit was Sterne's ^' History of a 
 Good Warm Watchcoat" — a story sufficiently enter- 
 taining to a reader who neither knows nor cares any- 
 thing about its original esoteric significance : not so its 
 counterpart, the " History of a Church and a Warming- 
 pan"* — one of the most crude and early fruits of its 
 author's genius, and which would scarcely deserve to 
 be mentioned here, had it not been surre])titiously 
 reprinted and industriously circulated more than once, 
 many years afterwards, by an unprincipled party who 
 
 ^ A century earlier, the title of this squib might have had a 
 popular signification ; for at the time of the Sacheverell riots, and 
 while plots were going on in favour of the Pretender, Churcli and 
 Wcwmivffpan were notable party catchwords. — Wright's House 
 of Hanover^ vol. i. p. 34. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY, 
 
 sought ill vain to annoy Mr. Montgomery by sneering 
 at his piety* 
 
 The object of the author was, by means of a harsh 
 and ludicrous parable, to illustrate the necessity of 
 ecclesiastical and political reform. The story is of a 
 dilapidated village church, for the repairs of which re- 
 peated collections were made on a Sunday in a ^^ warm- 
 ingpan/* and spent at the alehouse in the course of the 
 week ! A member of the congregation makes a speech 
 in reprobation of such a procedure ; towards the close of 
 which he says: — ^^Notwithstanding what has passed, 
 the church must be repaired, and the constitution of our 
 country regenerated. But how must these great ends 
 be accomplished? By an equal representation of the 
 people in Parliament, and of this village in a commit- 
 tee : a parliament composed of the best and wisest men 
 in these realms — a committee of the most honest and 
 upright men in this village : and these can only be 
 chosen properly, by collecting the votes of every indi- 
 vidual whose head can boast of common sense, and his 
 heart of common honesty.'' 
 
 This composition, reprehensible as it is, as a whole, in 
 almost every point of view, contains the following anti- 
 polemical rhapsody : it is the counterpart of the Sonnet 
 presently to be quoted, and shows how consistently Mont- 
 gomery opposed war from the very outset of his political 
 career : — '' War is but gigantic murder ! — the grim idol 
 adored by tyrants and their titled slaves. The globe is 
 his altar — man his victim ; his mouth is famine, his 
 breath pestilence, his look death, and his footsteps 
 graves ! Even now, his exterminating arm is hewing 
 down, without distinction, the tallest and fairest cedars 
 of Europe, as fuel for his sacrifices : and the British 
 oak itself, groaning to the redoubling strokes of his 
 axe, nods hourly over a broader and a blacker shadow, 
 
ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF COL. BOSVJLLE. 149 
 
 prophetic of — save, save my country, Heaven! — a 
 falL" 
 
 In the course of this and the following year he wrote 
 several fugitive pieces, apparently in imitation of the 
 style of the notorious ^^ Peter Pindar ; '' and, if there were 
 any merit in having succeeded in these efforts, we might 
 claim for Montgomery that distinction. The articles, 
 however, as well those in prose as those in verse, to 
 which we here allude, were among those unripe fruits 
 of his youthful imagination, w^hich were so bitter to his 
 remembrance in after life ; and in reference to w^hicli 
 he once observed to us, with the most poignant feeling, 
 ^^ that he had been one of the greatest fools that ever 
 obtruded himself on the public notice." Tears of re- 
 pentance, as honourable to the man as they were be- 
 coming: in the Christian, were afterwards shed for these 
 ^^ sins of his youth;" and though they could not obli- 
 terate sentiments to which words had given ^^ all but 
 immortality," they were the proofs of sincere contrition, 
 doubtless acceptable to Him to whose service James 
 Montgomery afterwards so eminently and entirely de- 
 voted himself. These remarks are here made once for 
 all, and apply to several other articles in prose and 
 rhyme, written about this period. 
 
 In October, appeared an ^^ Elegy to the Memory of 
 the late Colonel Bosville, w^ho fell in the action near 
 Lincelles," previous to the battle of Dunkirk. The 
 subject of this little piece was proposed to Montgomery 
 by a person of the name of Brown, a local attorney and 
 a noisy politician. To this man he gave a copy of the 
 verses, and allowed him to extort a promise that they 
 should not be published, at least for some weeks. 
 After a time the Elegy appeared in the '^ Sheffield Regis- 
 ter ;" and immediately a letter, written by the Hon. 
 Mrs. Murray, daughter of ^^ old Lord Murray'' of Banner 
 
 L 3 
 
150 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Cross, was received by Mr. Gales, rating him somewhat 
 severely for printing as Montgomery's, verses which had 
 been written for and presented to her by Mrs. Brown. 
 Our poet was not slow in writing to Lady Murray, 
 claiming the authorship, and giving the history of his 
 own composition. Presently afterward, her ladyship 
 sent to Montgomery, accompanied by a polite letter, two 
 copies of irregular stanzas of her own composition, on 
 the death of Colonel Bosville, between whom and her- 
 self, it appears, there had existed some sort of attach- 
 ment. These verses, in conformity with a particular 
 desire, our poet revised and returned — a service which 
 she never in any way acknowledged. As the fervour 
 with which her ladyship, then a married woman, and 
 noted for her beauty^ spoke of the gallant officer, who 
 was a married man, somewhat surprised Montgomery, 
 it is very likely he took certain liberties with the pieces 
 not compatible with the taste of the writer, though, to 
 use his own expression, he ^'fanned, wliere he found 
 it, any glimmering spark of sentiment into a flame, and 
 only blew away the aslies." 
 
 In the ^^ Register '^ of December 20th, an advertise- 
 ment appeared, announcing '' A Challenge," and signed 
 ^^ James Montgomery." Let not the reader start ^ — it 
 portended a bloodless duel ; although the aggressor might 
 not unreasonably have calculated upon more serious 
 consequences. Some anonymous individual had written 
 four lines, reflecting (we believe) on the character of 
 Mr. Gales ; and to this tetrastic, which was inserted in 
 the ^^Courant" newspaper"^, he had, with a dastardly disin- 
 genuousness, affixed the signature oi " Montgomericus.'' 
 This was justly deemed an insult by him whose name 
 was abused by this innuendo ; and Montgomery sent 
 
 "^ The first number of which appeared June 10. 1793. 
 
HIS ^^ CHALLENGE." 151 
 
 four lines in reply, signed with his initials. These, for 
 reasons deemed satisfactory to the writer, the printer 
 refused to insert; and here it was expected this silly 
 affair would have ended. A few days afterwards, how- 
 ever, Montgomery received from the hands of a pow^- 
 dered gentleman, of whom he had not the least know- 
 ledge, '^ a rliyming catalogue of scurrility upon his 
 youth, person, occupation," &c., and charging him with 
 the double guilt of rhyme and treason; promising to 
 *^ toss him in a blanket, and make his scrawling muse 
 give up the ghost," &c. In consequence of this, Mont- 
 gomery gave him, through the newsj)aper, a public 
 '' Challenge, to choose a subject (not political, lest it 
 should give offence), upon which each of us," says he, 
 ^' shall write an essay, either in prose or verse, whether 
 he pleases, to be signed with our own names at full 
 length, inserted, wath the printer's leave, either in the 
 ^^Ilegister,"or the ^'Courant"(Ileave the choice to him); 
 and the public shall judge between us. If he does not 
 accept this challenge, it will be because he dare not ; 
 and if he dare not^ it will only be because he cannot." 
 The only consequence, however, of this '^ challenge," so 
 insidiously provoked, and so cavalierly given, was a 
 scurrilous letter, which appeared in the ^^ Courant," ad- 
 dressed to Montgomery, who, in an advertisement in the 
 next ^^ Register," exposed the real name of his cowardly 
 antagonist, repeating at the same time his willingness to 
 meet, even on a political topic, the person who had had 
 the meanness to endeavour to give him a wound under 
 the guise of his own signature. This skirmishing, hap- 
 pily, led to no engagement. Our excited poet, how- 
 ever, not only vented a rhyming missive at the ^^ Lau- 
 reate of the ^^ Courant," but versified a bit of local scandal 
 against the publisher, ISorthall^ of which the following 
 is the exordium: — 
 
 L 4 
 
152 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEEY. 
 
 ^' for a thousand million tongues, 
 And every one as loud as thunder, 
 With brazen throats and marble lungs, 
 To roar the praises of John Blunder ! 
 Ye Muses nine, ye merry lasses, 
 Who dance and fiddle on Parnasses, 
 Descend, your poet to inspire," &c, 
 
 ^^ Misery," says the adage, ^^ often makes persons 
 acquainted with strange bedfellows" — a sentiment lite- 
 rally exemplified in this case. Some years afterwards, 
 when Pitt increased the duty on newspaper stamps 
 from twopence to threepence halfpenny, Montgomery 
 and Northall, being both interested in the measure, 
 went from Sheffield to York, to have an interview with 
 Mr. Gray, the stamp distributor, on the subject, ^^ It 
 was curious," said Montgomery, ^^ to see Paul Positive 
 and John Blunder, both mounted, and trotting amicably 
 together towards York : we staid a night on the road at 
 Great Houghton, and slept in the same bedroom. Poor 
 Northall ! he viltimately broke down, and I bought 
 all his printing materials for 100/." 
 
 A Sonnet, written by Montgomery on the close of 
 the campaign of this eventful year, we transcribe less for 
 the poetry than for the spirited deprecation of war which 
 U breathes; — 
 
 '' SONNET, 
 
 *'Upo7i the Close of the Campaigii 0/^1793. 
 
 ^' Hail, drear December, King of Tempests, hail ! 
 Rise wrapt in horrors, armed with vengeance rise ! 
 Round thy pale throne tormented goblins wail, 
 And sanguine meteors streak with blood the skies ! 
 
SONNET. 153 
 
 Grim tyrant, say, since light from darkness rose, 
 Was ever year before so red with crimes ? 
 Oh, guilty year ! Oh, year of murders ! close, 
 And be abhorred, accursed by future times ! 
 
 ^' In blood did Spring, in blood did Summer mourn. 
 And Autumn's reeking vintage gushed with gore ; 
 Rather than scenes like these should yet return. 
 May seed and harvest time return no more ; 
 Eternal desolation blast the plain. 
 And Winter — everlasting Winter^ reign!" 
 
 December , 1793. 
 
 P 
 
154 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 1794. 
 
 POLITICAL SOCIETIES. — CONFLICT BETWEEN LOYAL AND DEMOCRATIC 
 OPINIONS, INFLUENCE OP THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. PARLIA- 
 MENTARY REFORM. — THE DUKE OF RICHMOND. — PITT. — PROVIN- 
 CIAL ASSOCIATIONS. — THE *' PATRIOT." — BROWN, THE DEMAGOGUE. 
 — MUIRj SKIRVING, GERALD, AND 3IARGAEOT. — STATE TRIALS. , 
 
 The commencement of this year appeared to indicate, 
 even more distinctly than that just closed, the ap- 
 proach of a crisis. The war with France^ in which we 
 were engaged, was generally unpopular : political so- 
 cieties, under various denominations, but all assuming 
 to be more or less '^constitutional/' were formed in 
 most large towns. Their principles were not only alto- 
 gether opposed to the war, but the avowed object of 
 most of them was also to obtain Parliamentary Reform : 
 nor can it be denied that some of them had less pru- 
 dently-defined objects. Those persons, on the other 
 hand, who thought the war just and necessary, and 
 dreaded the ascendancy of democratic principles, ad- 
 dressed the throne in the language of exclusive loyalty ; 
 and armed associations were formed, less in the expecta- 
 tion of having to meet a foreign enemy, than for the 
 purpose of maintaining subordination at home. These 
 proceedings were not witnessed without suspicion and 
 apprehension. Those persons who admired the prin- 
 ciples of the French Revolution, and were suspected to 
 be the secret abettors of the introduction of a similar 
 
INFLUENCE OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 155 
 
 experiment at home, deprecated the war as an atteiupt 
 to crush the rising struggle for liberty ; while, as we 
 have before intimated, it was hardly less unpopular with 
 the bulk of that class of the community — an important 
 one in Sheffield — whose interests it so materially af- 
 fected, viz., persons engaged in manufactures and com- 
 merce : these found stagnation and dismay taking the 
 place of that better state of things which had preceded 
 the commencement of hostilities. 
 
 It is not our intention to go at length into a subject 
 to which we have already adverted, and which belongs 
 rather to the general history of the nation and of the 
 age, than of an individual ; but we cannot, in this place, 
 wholly pass over in silence some of those circumstances, 
 the slightest mention of which will prepare the reader 
 to understand with more distinctness the extraordinary 
 scenes through which the warm-hearted and single- 
 minded Montgomery was so soon destined to pass. The 
 French Revolution, the leading actors in which were 
 at first, even by many honest men, believed to be not 
 only asserting their own rights, but also asserting and 
 advancing the general liberties of mankind*, had dis*- 
 played, as we have already intimated, such horrid scenes 
 of anarchy, impiety, and bloodshed, that many of the 
 very leaders among the men who had at first admired 
 the ^^ National Assembly," recoiled with dismay at the 
 atrocities perpetrated in the name of Liberty. That 
 wise and sober men in this country, from the sovereign 
 to the day labourer, should have regarded with horror 
 and apprehension the dissemination in the United 
 Kingdom of those licentious principles which in France 
 had led to the murder of the King and Queen as a 
 proof of the popular detestation of monarchy, and to 
 
 * Life of Major Cartwright, vol. i. p. 182. 
 
156 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 the enthronement of an infamous woman as the 
 ^^ Goddess of Reason" in proof of the popular aban- 
 donment of Christianity^ was not surely to be wondered 
 at. At this crisis, however, the most zealous attempts 
 were made to inflame the people against the govern- 
 ment, by the circulation of books on the one hand, and 
 the holding of meetings on the other. To intimate 
 that every individual who took part in the circulation 
 of political tracts approved of such infamous publica- 
 tions as those of the author of the ^^ Rights of Man," 
 and others that might be named*, or that the bulk of 
 those who met to petition for political changes were 
 confessedly in favour of the establishment of a republic 
 in England, would be absurd ; but to assert that the 
 very existence of the government was endangered, as 
 well by the proceedings of those who did not formall}^, 
 as by those who did avowedly^ hold such views, is, we 
 presume, only to record an historical fact. 
 
 Long before the period alluded to, however, that 
 great question had been mooted, which afterwards 
 formed a bond of union among the constitutional 
 Whigs, and which, at the same time, became the watch- 
 
 * It has been pubhcly asserted, not only that Mr. Gales printed 
 the " Age of Reason," but that Paine's advice led to the establish- 
 ment of the " Sheffield Register." There does not, we believe, 
 exist the shadow of a foundation for either assertion. That the 
 Sheffield journalist entertained a degree of sympathy with the 
 political opinions of the author of the " Rights of Man" is 
 proved by the introduction of extracts from that work into his 
 paper ; but that there existed any kind of personal intercourse 
 between the parties was always denied, both by the surviving 
 sister of Mr. Gales and by Montgomery himself ; and we have 
 seen a series of letters addressed by Paine to Thomas Walker, of 
 Masbrough, which, although relating mostly to the bridge before 
 mentioned, contain also political remarks, but nothing to indicate 
 any connection either with Sheffield or its newspapers. 
 
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. 157 
 
 word of every party who, from that day to this, have 
 clamoured for wild and dangerous innovations in the 
 state, namely, Parliamentary Reform. During the 
 administration of Lord North, the imperfect representa- 
 tion of the people in the House of Commons had been 
 eloquently demonstrated; and in 1782 a meeting was 
 held at the house of the Duke of Richmond, in London, 
 at which it was determined to present a petition to Par- 
 liament on the subject. Accordingly, in the May of 
 that year, William Pitt, then Chancellor of the Ex- 
 chequer, and comparatively a young man, moved in the 
 House of Commons, after an eloquent speech, '' That 
 a committee be appointed to examine into the present 
 state of the representation of the commons of Great 
 Britain in Parliament, to report the same to the House, 
 and likewise what steps, in their opinion, it may be 
 proper for Parliament to take concerning the same." 
 The resolution was lost by a majority of 20 ; and the 
 sincerity of the mover of it no more admits of a 
 question than the importance of the inquiry proposed. 
 Lideed, on the 7th of May in the following year, Pitt, 
 then unattached to any party, again brought the busi- 
 ness of Parliamentary Reform before the House of Com- 
 mons, in three resolutions, the first of which related to 
 bribery and expense at elections; the second to the dis- 
 franchisement of boroughs, on proof of corruption being 
 established against them ; and the third to the addition 
 of county members and representatives of the metro- 
 polis. These resolutions were negatived by a much 
 larger majority than the motion of the preceding year, 
 namely, 144. As the name of Pitt was so often ad- 
 verted to, both by the criminals, their counsel, and the 
 press, in the trials for sedition which subsequently took 
 place, as if he had once been a favourer of sentiments 
 or conduct identical with those afterwards prosecuted 
 
158 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEBY. 
 
 by liis government, it may be proper to mention that, 
 in the eloquent speech by which he introduced the 
 resolutions of 1783, he desired the House of Commons 
 not to suppose that he meant, with the mad hand of 
 modern visionaries and speculative reformers, rashly and 
 sacrilegiously to attempt an innovation on what our an- 
 cestors had purchased at so large an expense of treasure 
 and blood, and which they had delivered to us as the 
 most valuable of all trusts. He reprobated the scheme 
 of universal suffrage, as absurd, impracticable, and 
 not known or attempted at any period of the British 
 historv.* 
 
 In the following year he again not only declared 
 himself friendly to Parliamentary Reform, but moved for 
 leave to bring in a bill, the general features of which he 
 explained : this motion, too, Vv^as rejected. With re- 
 ference to his opposition to the doctrines and move- 
 ments of the reformers after he had been long first 
 minister of the crown, it is only necessary here to ob- 
 serve that, in addition to the growing differences of 
 opinion as to the nature and extent of the reform 
 required, the fact that an armed body of political re- 
 formers, the Irish volunteers, had presented a demand 
 for triennial parliaments, at the point of the bayonet, 
 to the Irish Parliament^ — added to which, the immediate 
 difficulties of his administration, and the appalling 
 catastrophe of the French Revolution, which shook the 
 foundations of every European throne, — might well in- 
 duce him first to pause, and finally to resist. 
 
 But, be that as it may, the general proposition of a 
 reform in Parliament, to which the Duke of Richmond 
 and V/illiam Pitt had previously lent their names, both 
 in and out of Parliament, became in 1793 the rallying 
 
 * Tomline's Life of Pitt, vol. i. p. 164. 
 
THE ^^ PATRIOT."- 159 
 
 point of those who had at first approved, as well as of 
 many who still sympathised with, the Gallic revolu- 
 tionists*; added to which, there were many persons 
 who, belonging to neither of the foregoing classes, were 
 nevertheless strongly opposed, on various grounds, to 
 the war then carrying on between Great Britain and 
 France, f 
 
 To bring these statements home to our subject, it 
 may be remarked, that when Montgomery first entered 
 the printing-office of Mr. Gales, at Sheffield, he found 
 the press employed upon a small periodical, entitled 
 the ^^ Patriot," J edited by Matthew Campbell Brown, at 
 that period an occupant of ^^ Godfrey Fox's parlour," 
 
 * In fact, at this very time, or Immediately afterwards — we have 
 it on the authority of his own published journal — the noted Irish 
 democrat, Theobald AVolf Tone, founder and leader of the 
 " United Society of Irishmen," was in Paris, dancing a daily attend- 
 ance on Citizen Carnot, the '' organiser of Victory," and other 
 members of the Executive Directory, persuading them of the 
 practicability of a successful invasion of Ireland, and the con- 
 sequent certainty of an immediate insurrection to throw off the 
 domination of England The result of this advice, was the futile 
 visit of a French squadron to Bantry Bay, at Christmas, 1796 ; 
 and the still more humiliating, and, as the event proved to poor 
 Tone, fatal action off Loch Swilly, in October 1798. 
 
 f Associations for Parliamentary Reform existed as early as 
 1779 ; but in considering the nature and effects of the numerous 
 political confraternities which were formed in every large town in 
 the kingdom about the period of the French Revolution, generally 
 for the ostensible purpose of obtaining Parliamentary Reform, it 
 must be borne in mind that the parties did not seek merely such 
 an abolition of the " rotten boroughs," and enfranchisement of the 
 large unrepresented towns, as was contemplated by Pitt in 1782, 
 or secured by Earl Grey's Bill of 1832 ; but rather that wild, im- 
 practicable, and essentially revolutionary change in the represen- 
 tative system still contended for by some persons — annual pari ia- 
 ments and universal suffrage. 
 
 \ The first number of which appeared April 6. 1792. 
 
160 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 L e.^ the gaol. This individual, whose ^' Patriot " was one 
 of the seditious books which the unfortunate Thomas 
 Muir * was charged with circulating, and who figures so 
 largely in connection with the documentary evidence 
 adduced on the trials of Skirving, Gerald, Margarot, and 
 others, was sent by the Sheffield ^^ Constitutional So- 
 ciety" as a delegate to the '' National Convention," held 
 in Edinburgh November 19. ITQS.f Of the fidelity of 
 this man to the cause of the reformers, Montgomery 
 did not, from the first, entertain a high opinion ; and it 
 was not strengthened by a reference to the facts that, 
 while it was well known that he played so conspi- 
 cuous a part in the meetings of the '' Convention," he 
 was never, in any way, called to account by the public 
 prosecutor, nor did he ever return to Sheffield to 
 
 * The stern sentence passed on this individual startled all 
 the patriots, who thought danger possible to themselves or their 
 friends. Mr. Gales, writing to his friend Aston, at Manchester, 
 says, " What think you of the fate of poor Muir ? We shall no 
 longer think anything of six, twelve, or eighteen months' imprison- 
 ment, after a transportation of fourteen years ! ! Good God ! 
 what can possess the people, that they cannot see these enormities. 
 The ^ Patriot,' you see, is among the proscribed works. All is yet 
 still respecting it in this part of Britain : how long it will remain 
 so one cannot say.'' — Sept. 7. 179L Mr. Joseph Aston, whose 
 name will henceforth often occur as the correspondent of Mont- 
 gomery, was the son of a gunmaker at Manchester, a business 
 which he himself followed previous to his entire devotion to politics 
 and journalism. AVhen we knew him, about twenty years after- 
 wards, he appeared a kind and amiable man. 
 
 I Gales, speaking of the proceedings against the democrats at 
 Edinburgh, says, " Poor Brown's is a hard fiite; but his spirits are 
 excellent — so are the spirits of all the sufferers. There is some- 
 thing in persecution so invigorating, that those who suffer under 
 it never want spirits." He had soon occasion to test this doctrine 
 in his own experience ; perhaps he had forebodings, for he adds, 
 " The present is a dark period ; no man can penetrate the gloom!" 
 — Letter to Aston, 
 
STATE TRIALS. 16. 
 
 answer for his proceedings to those who sent him to, 
 cind maintained him in, Scotland.* 
 
 One day, in 1844, Montgomery called upon Mr. 
 Holland, who had lying before him a volume of Howell's 
 '^ State Trials." Holland: ^^ I am reading the trials 
 of some of your Scottish compatriots of 1793, who were 
 convicted of sedition, and I am entertained by the 
 attempts which were made, as well by those of the pri- 
 soners who defended themselves as by the counsel, to 
 prove that the punishment of ' hanishing forth of the 
 realm/ does not mean transportation.' "j- Montgomery: 
 '^ Yes ; so I believe Mr. Laing showed on the trial of 
 Gerrald : do you find his speech in that volume ? " 
 Holland: '^ Yes, Sir; and a very clever one it is." 
 
 * Brown appears to have acted a sufficiently straightforward 
 and spirited part in one place at least ; for when the Lord Provost 
 of Edinburgh entered the British Convention, on the 5th of De- 
 cember, 1793, after the apprehension of Margarot, Gerrald, Cal- 
 lender, Scott, and Ross, and insisted upon the dispersal of the 
 meeting, Brown not only argued the propriety of his interference, 
 but continued to occupy the chair till forced from it by the 
 Provost. On the other hand, considering the conspicuous part 
 thus taken by him, and the repeated mention of his name on the 
 trials of his colleagues, it is as remarkable that he was never 
 brought up either as a prisoner or a witness, as that he never was 
 a^ain heard of in Sheffield. 
 
 •j* The trials and conviction of these men for sedition produced 
 considerable excitement at the time, not merely because the 
 Scottish law was somewhat less exactly defined tlian the English 
 with reference to that crime, but also because the High Court of 
 Justiciary at Edinburgh had dealt rather with a constructive 
 hypothesis of guilt than with the actual evidence of a proven 
 crime. Indeed the legality of the sentence passed upon the con- 
 victs was not only questioned out of doors, but the subject was 
 more than once discussed in both Houses of Parliament. A very 
 full account of the proceedings on these important trials, which 
 were on many accounts interesting, will be found in Howell's 
 *' State Trials,'* vol. xxiii. 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
162 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEKY. 
 
 Montgomery : ^^ 1 should like to read it ; my friend, Felix 
 Vaughan, who was a good judge of such matters^ said 
 it was one of the best ever delivered on the subject, 
 and advised me to read it." Holland : '^ And now, 
 after exactly fifty years of delay, you have the oppor- 
 tunity of yielding to his advice. Did you ever see any 
 of the Scotch ^ leasing makers/ either before or after 
 their conviction ? " Montgomery : " Only two of them ; 
 when I went to London on account of Mr. Gales^s bank- 
 ruptcy, in 1794, 1 had occasion to go to Newgate to speak 
 with Symmons and Ridgeway, the publishers, who were 
 imprisoned for selling Paine's works, and there I saw 
 Gerrald % who was awaiting his transportation to New 
 Holland, where he died soon after his arrival. I never 
 can forget his appearance : he was then in ill health, 
 and so slender, it seemed that you might fancy you 
 could crush him in your hand like an egg-shell. But 
 there was, at the same time, a fervour and an enthu- 
 siasm about him, such as I hardly ever saw in any other 
 man : his piercing look and his quick motion suggested 
 the idea of his being wholly spirit ; he not only ap- 
 peared as if he had a distinct life in every member, 
 but actually to think all over ! Margarot, the wretch ! 
 called upon me in Sheffield, after his return from trans- 
 portation, in 1811, but I would not have anything to 
 do with him." This was the only one of the Scottish 
 convicts who returned to Great Britain. He appears, 
 while abroad, to have conducted himself with such 
 shameless profligacy, that his fellow transports were pre- 
 sently compelled to separate themselves entirely from 
 his society in New Holland. 
 
 But to return to the general condition of the country, 
 as indicated at the commencement of this chapter. 
 
 ♦ He had been a favourite pupil with Dr. Parr, who exerted 
 himself in behalf of the unhappy convict. 
 
163 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 1794. 
 
 DISSEIVnNATION OF DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES. — POPULARITY OF THE 
 
 " SHEFFIELD REGISTER." GENERAL FAST. MONTGOMERY'S HYININ 
 
 SUNG AT A PUBLIC MEETING. — POLITICAL ASSEIVIBLY ON CASTLE 
 HILL. — HENRY REDHEAD YORKE. — MONTGOMERY SUMMONED BEFORE 
 THE MAGISTRATE, JUSTICE WILKINSON. — REPORT OF COMMITTEE OF 
 SECRECY. — APPREHENDED DANGER TO MR. GALES. — HE ELUDES THE 
 
 SEARCH FOR HIM. LEAVES THE COUNTRY. — FAREWELL ADDRESS 
 
 TO THE READERS OF THE " REGISTER." 
 
 It cannot be denied that advantage was taken at this 
 lamentable crisis of affairs, to disseminate principles 
 hostile to the established government, if not subversive 
 of civil safety ; and whoever reads the newspapers of 
 that period, containing as they did, on the one hand, 
 accounts of the operations and atrocities of the exe- 
 cutive government of France, and, on the other, the 
 inflammatory harangues of our own political dema- 
 gogues, must wonder how it could happen tliat the 
 constitution of this country should have escaped de- 
 struction. In few periodical prints were these topics 
 discussed with greater freedom and ability, — we may 
 add, with more honesty of purpose, — than in the 
 ^^ Sheflield Register ;" and some estimate may be formed 
 of its popularity, from the fact, that, on May 2nd 
 this year, the publication reached 2025 copies.* This 
 
 * At this period, and for many years afterwards, the name of 
 some Member of Parliament was printed on the envelope of a 
 newspaper, with the formality of a frank, to pass post free. Up to 
 
 M 2 
 
164 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY* 
 
 reciprocity of influence between the paper and the 
 party must have been considerable on both sides, and 
 Joseph Gales was, for some time, believed to be *^ a 
 marked man." 
 
 A royal proclamation having been issued, command- 
 ing February 28th, 1794, to be observed as a General 
 Fast, the '' Friends of Peace and Reform " at Sheffield 
 chose to honour the day after their own fashion, by 
 holding a large public meeting, at which, after a prayer, 
 delivered by '^' Billy Broomhead,^^ and a ^^ serious 
 lecture,'' composed, but not read, by '' Neddy Oakes," * 
 a hymn, written for the occasion by Montgomery, ^' was 
 sung in full chorus " by the assembly, consisting of 
 several thousand persons. After this, a chairman was 
 appointed, and a series of eleven resolutions of a strong 
 character were ^^ unanimously passed." A description 
 of '' The Fast Day, as observed at Sheffield," was pub- 
 lished in a pamphlet, and a copy sent to the '^ London 
 Corresponding Society : " this was seized, with the 
 other papers of the Society, on the arrest of Hardy, 
 their Secretary, and thus, as Montgomery once said, 
 ^^ one of the first hymns of mine ever sung found its 
 way into Billy Pitt's green bag," — he might have added, 
 ^^ and was afterwards recited by Mr. Gibbs in the 
 Sessions House of the Old Bailey." The evidence 
 relative to this meeting forms a large item in the report 
 of proceedings on Hardy's trial. The following is 
 the hymn : — 
 
 January, 1794, the name of Mr. Wilberforce had been used on the 
 '' Sheffield Register,'' when it was authoritatively withdrawn, and 
 that of Mr. (afterwards Earl) Grey substituted. 
 
 * It may be worthy of remark, that a part of the ground ad- 
 joining West Street, on which this meeting was held, was ten 
 years afterwards occupied by one of the largest Methodist chapels 
 in the kingdom ; and in which, ten years later still, the pulpit was 
 occupied by Mr. Oakes, at that time a respectable Wesley an 
 preacher. 
 
HIS HYMN. 165 
 
 ^^ O God of Hosts, thine ear incline. 
 Regard our prayers, our cause be thine: 
 When orphans cry, when babes complain. 
 When widows weep, canst Thou refrain? 
 
 ^^ Now red and terrible, thine hand 
 Scourges with war our guilty hmd ; 
 Europe thy flaming vengeance feels, 
 And from her deep foundations reels* 
 
 " Her rivers bleed like mighty veins ; 
 Her towers are ashes, graves her plains ; 
 Slaughter her groaning valleys fills, 
 And reekino; carnao-e melts her hills. 
 
 ^' O Thou, whose awful word can bind 
 The roaring waves, the raging wind, ] 
 
 Mad tyrants tame, break down the high, 
 Whose haughty foreheads beat the sky. 
 
 " Make bare thine arm, great King of kings ! 
 That arm alone salvation brings : 
 That wonder-working arm which broke 
 From Israel's neck the Egyptian yoke. 
 
 '^ Burst every dungeon, every chain. 
 Give injured slaves their rights again; 
 Let truth prevail, let discord cease, ^ 
 
 Speak — and the world shall smile in peace." 
 
 On the 7th of April, a large meeting was held on 
 the Castle Hill, Sheffield, at which Henry Redhead 
 Yorke * presided : he addressed the multitude from 
 
 * He called himself Yorke, but always said he was the son of a 
 plantation agent, or governor, of the name of Kedhead, at Ber- 
 buda, a small West Indian island belonging to the Codrington 
 family. " He was," said Montgomery, "if not a mulatto, a quad- 
 roon — a fiery orator, and, as I thought, in the habit of delivering 
 as his own, portions of the impassioned speeches of Mirabeau ; 
 his style was altogether French." His figure, when he appeared at 
 
 M 3 
 
}ii[){y MEMOIRS OF JAMES MUJNTGuMERY. 
 
 ^^ a tribune," and spoke, as appeared from the testimony 
 of persons present, with more vehemence than dis- 
 cretion. At this meeting it was resolved ^^ to present 
 an address to the King on behalf of Muir^ Palmer, 
 Skirving, Margarot, and Gerrald, convicted of libels ; 
 to petition the King for the total abolition of slavery * ; 
 and that no further petitions be presented to the House 
 of Commons on the subject of Reform." With such 
 exciting topics, and so fervid an orator as the chairman 
 — to say nothing of other speakers — it is not sur- 
 prising that a glowing report of the proceedings, in- 
 cluding the drawing of Yorke in a carriage by the 
 crowd, was carried to the magistrate. Montgomery, 
 and three or four of Mr. Gales's printers having been 
 present, they were summoned before ^^ Justice Wilkin- 
 son," at Broomliall, and examined as to what Yorke 
 had said at the meeting, the object being to obtain 
 evidence upon which to found and support a charge of 
 ^^ constructive treason " against him. 
 
 A report of this examination was probably trans- 
 mitted to government, for, on the 29th of May, William 
 Broomhead and William Camage, the active and late 
 Secretaries of the Constitutional Society, along with 
 three or four other persons, were apprehended in 
 Sheffield, and conveyed to London under a military 
 escort. In a few days, several other inhabitants of the 
 
 the Castle Hill meeting, was good, and his dress striking, if not in 
 the best taste — with Hessian boots and a stock of republican 
 plainness ; he wore a silk coat and waistcoat of court fashion ; his 
 hair at the same time defying the curt French character by its 
 luxuriant curl — a tendency derived from the sunnier side of his 
 ancestral tree. For a specimen of his oratory, vide " Howell's 
 State Trials," vol. xxv. cols. 662 — 687. 
 
 * This year a law passed in the American Congress, ordering 
 that no vessel in the service of the United States should be em- 
 ployed, directly or indirectly, in the slave trade. 
 
ASSEMBLY ON CASTLE HILL. 167 
 
 town were also arrested and held to bail^ on charges of 
 sedition. 
 
 Great things had certainly been anticipated from the 
 meeting above alluded to, and especially from Yorke's 
 speech, which it was expected would be 'Hhree hours" 
 long ! Gales, writing to his friend in Manchester, sa3^s, 
 ^^ Is it not worth while to ride to Sheffield, to be pre- 
 sent at the meeting of 10,000 friends to the cause of 
 man ; and to hear one of the first orators in the kingdom 
 in the open air ? " 
 
 One of the resolutions of the meeting was, ^^ that a 
 congratulatory letter be transmitted to Thomas Walker, 
 of Manchester, on his victory over Church and King 
 Associations ; and that the letter now read be ap- 
 proved.^^ It was signed, and — but for tlie conclusive 
 evidence to the contrary, quoted below — must have 
 been taken to be written by Broomhead, ^^ Secretary of 
 the Constitutional Society."* 
 
 The letter to Walker was enclosed in one addressed 
 to Aston by Gales, who said, '* I need not tell you 
 we had a capital meeting: I had the honour to be 
 drawn along with Yorke amidst the thousands." This 
 was the writer's last happy day in England ! It seems, 
 from his next and final letter to Aston, that the latter 
 was dissatisfied alike with the tone of the meeting, the 
 address to Walker, and the personal character of the 
 leading orator ! 
 
 * Walker, who was a respectable master manufacturer at Man- 
 chester, had been recently tried for a conspiracy to overturn the 
 Constitution, and to assist the French in invading the realm, and 
 acquitted. The subject has been brought afresh to the minds of 
 many readers by Lord Campbell's Life of Erskine ; the latter 
 having, in his defence of Walker, indulged in a humorous descrip- 
 tion of the warlike stores which a Government spy had sworn were 
 accumulated by the defendant for the contemplated rebellion. 
 
 M 4 
 
168 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Whatever may have been the opinion which Gales 
 entertained of the notorious Thomas Paine, we can 
 hardly wonder that it was considered as at least favour- 
 able, when extracts from his works often appeared in 
 the ^^ Register ; " and still more conclusive evidence in 
 the same direction is the following account of a local 
 incident, given by himself: — ^' You were misinformed 
 as to any riot having taken place here. In one part of 
 the day, however, things wore rather a serious appear- 
 ance. The C. and K. party (very small indeed), accom- 
 panied by a recruiting party, with drum and fife, pre- 
 sented themselves before my house, and gave me most 
 loyal music, firing and shouting : and some one was 
 heard to say, that my house should not have a whole 
 window in it that night. This circumstance, I am 
 firmly of opinion, had the effect of calling together a 
 wall of defence, for, about an hour afterwards, upwards 
 of a hundred stout democrats stood before us, singing 
 ^ God save great Thomas Paine!' to the loyal tune. 
 This party increased to 500, and paraded the streets 
 peaceably (except singing) all the day. Nor would they 
 leave till they aj.prehended all danger to be past. You 
 see what it is to be supported. I do not think a riot can 
 be managed here : this was apparently a push for one." * 
 
 Few persons will refuse the h3^pothesis glanced at in 
 the closing sentence of Mr. Gales's account : and into 
 such a pandemonium of party had young Montgomery 
 been just dragged from the religious seclusion of Fulneck! 
 It is true, lie took no ostensible part in the memorable 
 Castle Hill meeting, nor was his name uttered in any 
 way during the public proceedings ; yet it will be seen 
 from the following letter, that he had, in reality, played 
 at least one very important card in the afflur. 
 
 * Gnles to Aston, Sept. 26. 1793. 
 
HIS LETTER TO ASTON. 169 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 "Sheffield, April 16. 1794. 
 
 ^^Dear Sir, 
 
 " After the very severe censure which you have been 
 pleased to pass upon the letter to Mr. Walker, adopted by 
 the late public meeting, it requires something more than 
 courage — it requires ingenuousness — for the real author to 
 step forward and unmask himself. But as you have formerly, 
 upon several occasions, hinted your approbation of some 
 trifling effusions of my pen, and even, in your last letter to 
 Mr. Gales, expressed yourself favourable to the language 
 and sentiments of the letters to the persecuted patriots, which 
 makes me proud to claim them as my productions, I hope I 
 shall not wholly forfeit your indulgent opinion, when I con- 
 fess myself guilty of having written the address to Mr. W. 
 
 ^^ The approbation of men of sense and genius is, and always 
 shall be, the climax of my ambition. I am myself too young, 
 too inexperienced, and perhaps too vain of my own pro- 
 ductions, to judge coolly of their merits or defects; and 
 whenever it is my misfortune to be censured, when my folly 
 led me to expect praise, from persons of elegant taste, I am 
 willing to suppose myself wrong, however confirmed my 
 opinion may have been before. In the present instance, I 
 am not ashamed to confess that I feel more mortified by 
 your single disapprobation than I felt flattered upon Castle 
 Hill, when that unfortunate letter was unanimously voted by 
 more than ten thousand persons, as a proper congratulatory 
 address to Mr. W. on his late triumph. 
 
 " Notwithstanding, if you will condescend to read the 
 letter over again, you will find you have mistaken my 
 meaning, when you say, ' I wonder why Mr. W. ceased to 
 be a patriot when he became a philanthropist ; I never heard 
 till now they were incompatible.' It is true an old musty 
 proverb says, 'Charity begins at home;' but if charity be 
 always confined to home, it is no longer charity, but avarice, 
 selfishness, injustice. Patriotism, in the same manner, when 
 shackled by prejudice, and chained like a wild beast within 
 the cage of a province or a nation, is a mean, a despicable, a 
 
170 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 foolish bugbear, which sets folks of different countries to- 
 gether by the ears. No man ceases to be a patriot when he 
 becomes a philanthropist; the characters are not incom- 
 patible ; so far from it, in my opinion, they are inseparable 
 when strictly understood and justly practised. . . . Pardon 
 the boldness of this letter. I shall endeavour to profit by 
 your censure, that I may, upon some more fortunate subject, 
 again meet with your approbation. 
 
 " I am, with the sincerest respect, 
 '' Yours, &c., 
 
 " J. M. G. 
 
 " Mr. Aston, Manchester." 
 
 In the ^^ Register " of June 20th appeared two 
 Reports of '^ the Committee of Secrecy of the House of 
 Commons ; " in one of which it was stated that ^^ the 
 circumstance which first came under the observation of 
 the Committee, containing a distinct trace of measures 
 of this description [a recourse to arms], was a letter 
 from a person at Sheffield, by profession a printer, who 
 has since absconded, which was addressed ^ Citizen 
 Hardy, Secretary of the London Corresponding Society,' 
 and which was found in the possession of Hardy, on 
 the 12th day of May last, when he was taken into 
 custody." This letter referred to the possibility of 
 furnishing arms to the patriots : and the suspicion of 
 having written it fell upon Mr. Gales, in the minds of 
 many of his townspeople, who were, at that moment, 
 unaware that the writer was really an individual in his 
 employment. In these times of peril and dismay, when 
 to be suspected was to be in imminent danger at the 
 least, the proprietor of the '^ Register," as well as the 
 actual writer of the letter, thought it prudent to escape, 
 by a hasty flight, the risk and consequences of the pro- 
 secution which appeared to be impending. 
 
 The apprehensions of Gales were well founded — 
 
REDHEAD YORKE. 171 
 
 he saved himself by his promptitude ; meanwhile 
 there was another of the Castle Hill orators, on whom 
 the government was, if possible, still more anxious 
 to fasten — this was Redhead Yorke. This eloquent, 
 restless, and attractive individual, whose name was 
 so intimately connected with the political movements 
 of the times, was personally unknown to Mr. Gales 
 before the winter of 1793, when he presented 
 himself one evening at Sheffield as a patriot ; he was 
 about twenty-two years of age, a handsome figure, 
 and so insinuating were his manners, that he con- 
 trived not only to domicile himself for a time in 
 the family at the Hartshead, but ultimately to obtain 
 the affections of his host's youngest sister, Sarah. 
 This circumstance became the unforeseen hinge of an 
 important event. Yorke left Sheffield for Derby in 
 an unsatisfactory manner, so far as his intentions to- 
 wards the lady were concerned ; and to that town, 
 after having published his newspaper on the 16th of 
 March, Gales followed him. In the course of the day, 
 a government messenger, accompanied by the local 
 constable, entered the house of the Sheffield printer 
 with a warrant for his arrest on a charge of conspiracy ! 
 After searching the premises in vain for Mr. Gales, 
 they proceeded to a public house adjacent, armed with 
 a similar authority for the capture of Davison, who 
 at the moment sat smoking with a fellow compositor. 
 On the constable putting his head into the room and 
 asking if Davison was there, '' No," replied his com- 
 panion, with admirable presence of mind, ^^he's just 
 gone off." The officer turned aside, and the justly 
 alarmed secretary of the ^'Constitutional Society" imme- 
 dately made his escape — ultimately reaching America, 
 where he afterwards settled, throve, and became a 
 magistrate. Thus by the merest accident, apparently, 
 
172 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 both Gales and his man, and even Yorke himself, missed 
 for the time, at least, the luck of a lodgment in the Old 
 Bailey prison, not to say the peril of a trial for sedition, 
 Yorke, indeed, was afterwards taken, and, along with 
 Gales and Davison (then out of the way), indicted for 
 ^^a conspiracy to traduce and vilify the Commons 
 House of Parliament ; to excite disaffection towards 
 the king and his government in the minds of his sub- 
 jects ; to excite riots, and tumults, and commotions in 
 the realm," The trial took place at York, on the 23rd 
 July, 1795. The evidence referred almost entirely to 
 the Sheffield Castle Hill Meeting; the witnesses for the 
 prosecution being the same persons who had been pro- 
 duced on the trial of Hardy. Yorke addressed the 
 jury in an eloquent speech ; but was found guilty, and 
 sentenced to two years' imprisonment in Dorchester 
 gaol. Here, again, his captivating address availed him ; 
 he married his keeper's daughter, and was, we believe, 
 sometime afterwards called to the bar. In the course 
 of a few years more, Yorke, to Montgomery's astonish- 
 ment, presented himself at Sheffield, on the recruiting 
 service, and in the regimentals of a lieutenant- colonel ! 
 The change, however, was too flagrant for the place ; 
 for, it is said, the young fellows, instead of enlisting into 
 his corps, hooted him out of the town. 
 
 In the following week's '^ Register," Mr. Gales took a 
 formal final leave of his friends and readers ; denying, 
 at the same time, most distinctly, that he had either 
 written, dictated, or been privy to the letter addressed 
 to Hardy. ^^ Could my imprisonment," says the fugi- 
 tive editor, ^^ or even death, seriw the cause which I 
 have espoused — the cause of peace, liberty, and 
 justice, — it would be cowardice to fly from it; but, 
 convinced that ruining my family, and distressing my 
 friends, by risking either, would only gratify the igno- 
 
GALES'S FAREAVELL ADDRESS. 173 
 
 rant and the malignant, I shall seek that livelihood in 
 another land which I cannot peaceably obtain in this. 
 To be accused, is now to be guilty : and however 
 conscious I may be of having neither done, said, or 
 written any thing that militates against peace, order, 
 and good government, yet when I am told witnesses 
 are suborned to swear me guilty of treasonable and 
 seditious practices, it becomes prudent to avoid such 
 dark assassins, and to leave to the informers^ and their 
 employers^ the mortification of knowing, that however 
 deep their villany was planned, it has been unsuccessful'^ 
 With this address, the ^^ Sheffield Register " expired, 
 after having existed about eight years.* Some ultra- 
 Tory writer marked his sense of the importance of that 
 event, by printing, with ^^ London " on the title-page, 
 '^ The Downfall of the ^Register;' an after-piece, in 
 one act: scene lies in Sheffield.'^ 
 
 * The suddenness of Mr. Gales's flight, and the determination of 
 his principal creditor, George Robinson, of Paternoster Row, led 
 to his being declared a bankrupt. His debts amounted altogether 
 to about 300Z. ; and we believe every creditor received twenty 
 shillings in the pound. 
 
174 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 1794. 
 
 MONTGOMERY SUCCEEDS TO GALES'S PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT. — 
 ENTERS INTO PARTNERSHIP WITH JAMES NAYLOR. — COIVIMENCES 
 
 THE "iris" NEWSPAPER. POETICAL GREETING. — ANNOUNCEMENT 
 
 OF EDITORIAL PRINCIPLES. THE " ENTHUSIAST." POETRY AND 
 
 POLITICS. — TRIAL OF THOMAS HARDY. EVIDENCE AFFECTING THE 
 
 SHEFFIELD PATRIOTS. PROTEST OF MR. GALES. ACQUITTAL OF 
 
 HARDY AND OTHERS CELEBRATED. — MONTGOMERY'S HYMN ON THE 
 OCCASION. 
 
 Montgomery having now been about two years in the 
 printing office, and during that time more or less con- 
 nected with the editorial department of the paper, was 
 advised to look upon himself as the fittest person to 
 succeed Mr. Gales — a most perilous position, it must 
 be admitted, for so ardent and inexperienced a young 
 man to aim at, surrounded as he was, too, by friends 
 more enthusiastic than himself. Apprehensions of 
 any such danger appear, however, to have been but at 
 most of secondary consideration. To find means to 
 purchase the presses, types, and other working mate- 
 rials, presented a more immediate and formidable diffi- 
 culty among his friends, until a gentleman of the name 
 of Naylor*5 before this time almost unknown to Mont- 
 
 * At this time a Unitarian preacher in the Upper Chapel, Nor- 
 folk Street, Sheffield, and a " sleeping partner" in a silver-plating 
 establishment in that town. He soon afterwards married, and 
 went into business with his brother in Manchester, where he 
 became a bankrupt. Mr. Naylor was nephew to Dr. Thomas 
 Percival, of Manchester, and the Sophron of that gentleman's work, 
 " A Father's Instructions to his Children," published in 1777. 
 He died at Altrincham, in Cheshire, April 12. 1846, aged 84. 
 
COMMENCES THE " IRIS " NEWSPAPER. 175 
 
 gomery, offered to advance the whole of the money, 
 and become a partner in the concern. The price paid 
 altogether was 1600Z., including 500/. which was con- 
 sidered as paid for copyright, an item of very question- 
 able value under the circumstances ; and, as the event 
 showed, greatly overrated in the estimate ; for the 
 moderation of the new proprietary lost them a thousand 
 subscribers the first year. 
 
 ^^ James Montgomery and Co." having announced, in 
 the last ^^ Register," their intention to publish, on the 
 ensuing Friday, a new Sheffield newspaper, entitled 
 the ^^ Iris," all parties were on the alert, awaiting the 
 debut of the new editor, whose political principles were 
 generally known. Thus, in a few short months, had 
 our liero passed from a seclusion almost equal to that 
 of the cloister, to what was then, if not now, one of 
 the most responsible and perilous stations in active life 
 — that of a newspaper publisher, politician, and patriot ; 
 exhibiting, as if in proof of Dr. Johnson's notable aver- 
 ment, '* something of that indistinct and headstrong 
 ardour for liberty which a man of genius always catches 
 when he enters the world, and always suffers to cool as 
 he passes forward."* 
 
 On the 4th of July appeared the first number of the 
 ^^ Iris," with the following conciliatory and pacific 
 motto : — 
 
 *^ Ours are the plans of fair, delightful Peace, 
 Unwarped by party rage, to live like brothers." 
 
 The poetical corner which had heretofore been " The 
 Repository of Genius," now assumed the less intelligible 
 title of *' Cemptucet|^, or the Bower of the Muses,'' 
 
 * Life of Lyttelton. 
 
 -j- Cemptucet, an anagram formed out of the initial letters of 
 the names of the Muses. Montgomery was not the author of 
 this conceit, nor did his taste ever approve of it. 
 
176 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 and contained the following Parnassian flower from the 
 pen of a friend, Barbara Hoole — afterwards Mrs. 
 Hofland : — 
 
 To the '' Iris:' 
 
 " O say, art thou the bright-eyed maid, 
 Saturnia's messenger confest ? 
 Does sacred truth thy mind pervade^ 
 And love celestial warm thy breast? 
 
 " Com'st thou with covenanted bow, 
 Blest signature of heavenly peace, 
 To lay the waves of faction low, 
 
 And bid the winds of discord cease ; 
 
 '' The various forms of good intent, 
 In one pure social league to bind, 
 By prudence taught, through virtue bent. 
 To reconcile the public mind ? 
 
 " Are these thy aims ? bright vision hail ! 
 Midst freedom's clouded hemisphere. 
 No storms thy genius shall assail. 
 Nor latent mischiefs hover near. 
 
 " Fair be thy form, and gay tliine hue. 
 In learning's Tyrian lustre drest, 
 Grounded on truth's celestial blue, 
 Tinged from the Muse's yellow vest. 
 
 " Far may thy glowing beauties shine. 
 And glad success secure thy beam. 
 While Reason mild, and Peace divine. 
 Roll o'er the earth their lucid stream." 
 
 This not inelegant composition was received with 
 complacency by the editor, as displaying those principles 
 which he would wish to maintain in the '^ Iris," and as 
 a specimen of the poetry he should always be glad to 
 receive for this department ; and it must be confessed 
 that the lines contain touches not unworthy the Irini 
 
ANNOUNCEMENT OF EDITOKIAL PRINCIPLES. 177 
 
 de coeloy which the author was anxious should shine in 
 the atmosphere of public favour. 
 
 We give the following extract, not as exhibiting any 
 singular felicity of thought or expression, but as the 
 editor's maiden address to the public, and as the an- 
 nunciation of those principles by which the ^' Iris " was 
 to be distinguished : — 
 
 *^ The editors of this paper beg leave to assure the public, 
 that every endeavour will be used to render it worthy of 
 their patronage ; and if a careful selection of the earliest 
 intelligence can recommend it to their favour, they doubt not 
 of its being honoured with a liberal support. They jDrofess 
 themselves desirous to avoid, in this publication, the in- 
 fluence of party spirit Like other men, they have their 
 own political opinions and their own political attachments ; 
 and they have no scruple to declare themselves friends to 
 the cause of Peace and Reform^ however such a declaration 
 may be likely to expose them in the present times of alarm 
 to obnoxious epithets and unjust and ungenerous reproaches. 
 But while they acknowledge themselves unconvinced of the 
 necessity or expediency of the present war, and fully per- 
 suaded that a melioration of the state of the representative body 
 is intimately connected with the true interests of the nation, 
 they declare their firm attachment to the Constitution of its 
 Government^ as administered by King, Lords, and Commons ; 
 and they scorn the imputations which would represent every 
 reformer as a Jacobin, and every advocate for peace as an 
 enemy to his king and country. They pity those persons, 
 whatever their principles may be, who, in endeavouring to 
 defend them, have recourse to the mean acts of vilifying 
 and abusing their opponents ; and they proclaim their own 
 firm purpose to avoid descending to the littleness of personal 
 controversy, or to recriminations unworthy alike of Britons, 
 of Christians, or of men. It is their wish, on the contrary, 
 to cherish, as far as they are able, a good opinion of those 
 who differ from them in sentiment ; to allow the weight of 
 their arguments where they really deserve consideration ; to 
 
 YOL. I. N 
 
178 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 place them in the most favourable view ; and to give their 
 readers a fair opportunity of forming an impartial judgment 
 by a comparison of the best remarks which can be made on 
 all sides. At the same time, they declare it is not their in- 
 tention to enter themselves as parties on the field of political 
 controversy. For though tliey shall think it their duty to 
 state the reasonings on both sides upon public and interesting 
 questions, they do not conceive it to be at all the proper 
 business of the editor of a newspaper to present his readers 
 with his own political opinions ; and whatever theirs may at 
 any time be, it is too much their wish to live in peace and 
 charity with all men, to feel disposed to come forward as 
 angry zealots or violent partisans. Their utmost ambition 
 will be gratified if they shall be able to recommend this 
 paper to the public notice as an authentic^ impartial, and 
 early record of the sentiments of others on those great 
 political topics which now agitate the world, and of those 
 interesting everits which almost every day now furnishes, and 
 which cannot but mark out the present aera to the peculiar at- 
 tention of the politician, the historian, and the philosopher.'^ 
 
 The foregoing, it will be perceived, are principles of 
 editorial, or rather of proprietary policy^ widely different 
 from those which characterised the ^' Sheffield Register.'^ 
 
 In the fourth number of the '^Iris" Montgomery 
 commenced a series of essays entitled the ^' Enthusiast."' 
 These were principally of an entertaining or satirical 
 nature. The first essay contains a playful relation^ in 
 his own words, of an incident which gave a colour ta 
 his life and pursuits, and which has been already quoted.* 
 It is, on the whole, no unfair specimen of his earlier 
 manner of writing in the humorous style : — 
 
 ^' During my childhood, sweet age of innocence^ of ig- 
 norance! I showed not the slightest symptoms of ever be- 
 coming a great man. I was fond of whipping-tops, hobby- 
 horses, marbles, and gingerbread, and hated my battledore 
 and easy-book as cordially as a young heir to — not a grain 
 
THE ^^ ENTHUSIAST." 179 
 
 of sense, but, what is infinitely more valuable — an estate of 
 some twenty or thirty thousand pounds per annum. At 
 school even, when I was driven like a coal-ass through the 
 Latin and the Greek grammars, I was distinguished for 
 nothing but indolence and melancholy, brought upon me by 
 a raging rhyming fever." . . . ^^Surelynever was moon-struck 
 lunatic more vexatiously haunted by the foul fiend than I 
 have been through every nook and alley of life by the 
 Muses ! I w^onder at what age other people become men ; 
 for my part, I confess I grow more childish every day. The 
 more I learn, the less I know ; and my whole life, as far as 
 I can look back, has been one unceasing race of follies^ hunt- 
 ing each other through the labyrinths of my brain, and 
 playing at football with the passions of my heart. One con- 
 solation, however, soothes me when out of temper w^ith myself 
 and all mankind : I consider this w^hirligig of a world merely 
 as my cradle, and myself as only in the infancy of my exist- 
 ence. Hence, I look forward with exulting hope to the 
 dawning prospects of futurity, when, in brighter worlds, in 
 purer air, and under milder skies, I shall ripen into man or 
 rise into angel. Meanwhile, I am content to crawl upon the 
 surface of this puny globe like a caterpillar upon a cabbage ; 
 anticipating the time when, in the grave, I shall be changed 
 into a torpid nymph, and in due time break forth from the 
 shell of death — a glorious butterfly! Thus, considering myself 
 a child in petticoats and leading-strings, I can be pleased 
 with a rattle, and tickled with a straw ; and if with my rattle 
 and my straw I can please and tickle some of my playmates, 
 and keep them in good humour, I shall be doubly gratified.'* 
 — IriSy July 25. 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 *' Sheffield, July 30. 1794. 
 
 " Deah Sir, 
 
 " I am almost ashamed to take up my pen to write to 
 one whom I so sincerely respect, after having treated him with 
 such neglectful silence. If you knew how extremely averse 
 I am to writing letters, you would excuse me. The truth 
 
 N 2 
 
180 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 is, when I begin a letter to a friend, I generally waste one 
 half of the paper with apologies, and the other in prefacing 
 what I have to say ; so that, to my utter chagrin, I find my- 
 self at Land's End before I have communicated even a 
 sketch of my ideas. Whilst I am complaining, I am com- 
 mitting the selfsame trespass.* Forgive me for trifling ; 
 though when you write, I will not forgive you. 
 
 " You were no doubt astonished when first you saw my 
 name annexed to the ^Iris ;' and perhaps still more, when you 
 observed the humiliating distance between the cringing^ 
 trembling^ gouty pace of our /^ar^y-coloured messenger of the 
 gods, and the noble, firm, and manly gait of the late lamented 
 ' Register!' I was absent in London on an anxious errand, 
 with which you are too well acquainted [Mr. Gales's affairs], 
 when our two first publications appeared, and was not less sur- 
 prised than you (and thousands besides) when I read the 
 modest language of these two papers." [Here follow seven 
 lines, which are obliterated in the original letter, and which 
 probably referred to the timidity, or, as most persons will 
 think, the discretion of his partner.] ^'I cannot, therefore, 
 expect that the 'Iris' will ever meet with, nor, in my opinion, 
 deserve, the liberal patronage which supported the late ^Re- 
 gister.' But as far as my humble abilities can entertain and 
 instruct my fellow-creatures, I am determined to exert them 
 to the utmost of my power ; and as I cannot but expect my 
 efforts will meet with at least as much encouragement as 
 they merit, I shall judge of their deserts by that encourage- 
 ment ; and if I fail to please, I will cheerfully resign, and 
 melt into obscurity. 
 
 '^ If you have taken the trouble to examine the last page 
 of the ' Iris,' you will have recognised an old friend, who, 
 if he cannot make the public laugh iinth him, at any rate 
 makes them laugh at him. But you will also have observed 
 
 * We have given this apologetical exordium, occurring, as it 
 does, in so early a letter, and because it so truly characterises his 
 epistolary productions in after life, whenever they related merely 
 to friendly intercourse. 
 
LETTEE TO ASTON. 181 
 
 a whimsical attempt to begin a periodical chain of essays, 
 under the character of the ' Enthusiast.' I confess myself 
 the writer of that paper, wherein I have as clearly as pos- 
 sible copied the portrait of my own character, silly and 
 trifling as it is. My reason for this is, because my partner 
 is extremely averse to high-seasoned politics, such as the 
 readers of the late ' Register ' were wont to be pampered 
 with in the last page of that paper "... [five or six lines 
 obliterated]. " But still the public must not^ because they 
 will not^ forego the entertainment of that page. I shall 
 therefore endeavour to open a new field of amusement, and 
 instruction, and thought, as you will perceive by the ^En- 
 thusiast ' of to-morrow. I shall wholly banish independent 
 politics from my plan ; yet I shall endeavour to wean the 
 public from violent and irritating language on political 
 themes, and also strive to amuse them with other subjects. 
 The principal object of this letter is to request the favour of 
 your correspondence in any character you please to assume. 
 The elegant productions of your liberal and enlightened pen 
 often graced the last page of the ' Register.' . . . 
 
 ^' Believe me, with unfeigned regard, 
 " Your sincere friend, 
 
 ^^ James MoNXGOMERy. 
 " Mi\ Aston, Manchester." 
 
 The hallucinations of fancy, alluded to in the pre- 
 ceding essay and letter, are evidently the confessions of 
 a man of genius not formed for the stern, selfish, or 
 reckless demands of party strife. The organisation of 
 Montgomery's mind was, as we have said, exquisitely 
 poetical ; and never, perhaps, did a person embark on 
 the stormy sea of politics more reluctantly, or was less 
 adapted by talents and disposition to stem the tide or 
 escape the dangers of his situation, than the editor of 
 the '' Iris." He had none of the qualities of '^ a good 
 hater,'' said to be so essential to success ; and while he 
 heard the strains of his country's lyre rising around 
 
 N 3 
 
182 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 him, he sighed to swell with his own notes the music 
 which enchanted him. He discovered (to adopt the 
 sentiment of a celebrated essayist) '' that he, too, was 
 of the progeny of Apollo, and that he had been ini- 
 quitously transferred into the hands of ignorant foster- 
 parents, who had endeavoured to degrade and confine 
 him to the sphere of regular employments and sober 
 satisfactions.'' 
 
 Montgomery's mind was thus, as it were, accidentally 
 determined to political literature ; and, notwithstanding 
 it occupied so considerable a portion of his life, and 
 makes so large an item in his history, it was ahnost 
 always irksome and even odious to him. This re- 
 mark may startle some of those persons who have 
 readj with a feeling akin to rapture, those delightful 
 political disquisitions for which his ^^Iris" was at 
 one period distinguished. But it must be recollected 
 that, at the commencement of his career, we meet 
 with nothing like the ^^ leading articles " of every news- 
 paper which is published now-a-days, nor even with 
 those elaborate essays and recapitulations of passing 
 events, in the concoction of wdiich he was afterwards 
 so happy, and which, although they were commonly 
 more or less imaginative, sometimes singularly involved 
 and parenthetical, and often worded with a caution 
 (on delicate topics) appearing like indecision, were 
 nevertheless always pleasing and instructive. 
 
 Fragments of conversations at different periods, 
 which have been preserved, and upon which our belief 
 of his early and general antipathy to politics is founded, 
 will sufficiently evince his feelings on the subject. '' In 
 early life," said he, to one of the biographers, ^^ I some- 
 times dipped into political controversy ; but politics 
 become more and more disagreeable to me ; I enter no 
 further into them than my duty, as editor of a news- 
 
rOETEY AND POLITICS. 183 
 
 paper, compels me to do : frequently do I wisli I had 
 nothing to do with them ; and if it were not for break- 
 ing up the concern, in which others are interested as 
 well as myself, I would abandon the whole at once.'^ 
 To another friend he observed : ^^ I hate politics ; and 
 I would as soon meet a bear as a ledger." The same 
 gentleman informed him that he had recommended the 
 ^^Iris" in the north of Scotland, as he wished, on 
 account of the sentiments inculcated, to promote its 
 more extensive circulation. ^^ Many of my friends,'^ 
 returned Montgomery, '^ have made similar attempts, 
 but they seldom succeeded; and where they have done 
 so, the persons who have taken it through such per- 
 suasion have felt disappointed, and have given it up. 
 The fact is, they usually found either too much of the 
 poet, or too little ; often, I believe, the former; and this 
 was not consistent with the subject and plan of a news- 
 paper, and can never be carried out by a person like 
 myself, who always feels as if he had a dung-cart 
 [meaning politics] dragging behind him." Yet, re- 
 pugnant as it was to his feelings, he always wrote the 
 commentary on public affairs for the week himself. 
 Speaking once of this department of the paper, he said : 
 *^ The whole of the remarks are my own ; no man shall 
 ever write anything there for me ; I consider myself 
 amenable for what is addressed to the public ; and 
 whether approbation or censure be the result, I shall 
 neither be censured for the offences, nor run away with 
 the applause due to another.^' The honourable feeling 
 manifested in the closing sentence was not always en- 
 tertained by others; and it afforded him some degree of 
 triumph to be able to say to a friend, in a tone of plea- 
 santry, ^^ The editor of the London ' Courier' very often 
 takes the pith of my remarks in the ^ Iris,' but he never 
 has the honesty to acknowledge it.'' 
 
 N 4 
 
184 MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Oa the 28th of October, Thomas Hardy, of London, 
 shoemaker, was brought up for trial at the Old Bailey, 
 before the Lord Chief Justice Eyre and other judges, 
 on the charge of high treason. The lowliness of the 
 craft of the prisoner did not, of course, lessen the enor- 
 mity of the offence specified in the indictment ; and 
 when it is stated, that the trial lasted eight days, and 
 was continued during a great part of each of the in- 
 tervening nights, and that the report of the proceed- 
 ings occnpies considerably more than a thousand printed 
 columns in Howell's ^^ State Trials " (pp. 200—1407.) 
 some idea will be formed of its importance from these 
 facts alone. But, besides the generally excited state of 
 the country at this juncture, there was another circum- 
 stance which gave an intensity to this trial — the exe- 
 cutioner's axe, which appeared so fearfully suspended 
 over Hardy's head, was still wet with the blood of the 
 '^ traitor," Robert Watt, on whom it had descended, at 
 Edinburgh, since the opening of the present proceed- 
 ings at the Old Bailey. Under these circumstances, 
 it will easily be imagined that the solicitude of Hardy's 
 friends concerning the result of his trial, would not be 
 slightly participated by, and on account of, those indi- 
 viduals whose names were introduced in suspicious con- 
 nection with the various facts sworn to by the witnesses 
 in their evidence. In this perilous predicament several 
 members of the '^ Sheffield Society for Constitutional 
 Information," besides those arrested and carried to 
 London to give evidence, were unexpectedly placed, 
 mainly through the seizure and exhibition of their cor- 
 respondence with Hardy, as secretary of the '■ London 
 Corresponding Society." 
 
 The leading object of the government prosecutor, so 
 far as Sheffield was concerned, was to show that secret 
 and open meetings of an illegal character had been 
 
TillAL OF HARDY. 185 
 
 lield ; that the people had been excited to treasonable 
 designs ; and that warlike weapons had been made and 
 distributed. The inflammatory harangues of Yorke, 
 at the Castle Hill meeting, and the proceedings in the 
 Back-fields on the Fast-day, were particularly scrutinised. 
 The following brief extract from the report of the trial 
 will explain itself: — 
 
 " Mr. Edward Lauzun [the government messenger], called. 
 Mr. Garrow : ^ Look at these pamphlets [^^ The Fast-day, 
 as observed at Sheffield," and a " Serious Lecture "] : where 
 did you find them ?' ^ I found both these in Hardy's house.' — 
 Mr. Garrow^ to William Broomhead [of Sheffield] : ' After 
 the " Serious Lecture" was read^ there was a hymn prepared, 
 I believe ?' ' Yes.' ' Who prepared that hymn V ' Gales 
 printed it?' ^ Who composed it?' ^It was composed by one 
 Montgomery.' ' That was sung in full chorus by the whole 
 assembly?' ^ Yes, it was sung.' . . . ^ Who read the 
 lecture?' ^A gentleman from Halifax.' 'Who composed 
 and delivered the prayer ?' ' Myself.' 
 
 ? J? 
 
 Relative to the making of pikes, the evidence is large 
 — and for the fact, it must be added, conclusive : not 
 so, however, as to the grounds of their adoption or in- 
 tended use. It was alleged by every witness, that these 
 arms had been prepared for self-defence, in consequence 
 of an inflammatory but anonymous hand-bill, which was 
 scattered in the streets of Shefiield overnight *, and 
 referring to the introduction of Hessian troops into 
 the kingdom, without the authority of parliament. Be 
 that as it may, a letter addressed to '^ Citizen Hardy," 
 
 * Who distributed these incendiary papers was never known. 
 Whether, like the dragon s teeth of old, they were sown by some 
 of those men of Cadmus who were prepared to reap the harvest 
 which followed, or whether they were scattered by some one to 
 accelerate, as they certainly did, the discomfiture of the reformers, 
 is a question not easy to settle at present. 
 
186 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEHT. 
 
 of Piccadilly, by his '' fellow-citizen/' Richard Davison, 
 a workman of Gales's, who had decamped, mentions 
 the use, form, and price of pikes : at the same time 
 stating to whom orders may be sent. 
 
 The following questions and answers must be left to 
 speak for themselves : — 
 
 " Henry Hill, a cutler, from Sheffield, sworn, and ex- 
 amined by Mr. Law. — . . . ^ Do you remember the meet- 
 ing of the 7th of April, 1794 [on the Castle Hill, Shef- 
 field] ? ' ' Yes.' ^ About that time was there any conver- 
 sation prevalent in the town about providing yourselves with 
 arms ? ' ' Yes.' ' Do you know Davison ? ' ^ Yes.* ' What 
 is he?' *A printer/ ^ He worked for Gales?' 'Yes.' 
 ' Mr. Yorke lodged at Gales's at one time, did he not ? * ^ I 
 cannot tell ; he did not at that time.' ' Had you an appli- 
 cation from Gales, to make any blades for pikes ?' 'Yes.' 
 ' When ? ' 'In the beginning of April.' ' Did he order any 
 particular number ? ' ' No.' ' What orders did he give you ? ' 
 ' He brought a bayonet as a pattern for me to make them 
 by : I made one in a bayonet shape, and Davison approved 
 of it.' ' Who was to pay you for the workmanship ? ' ' Da- 
 vison.' — Widowson, a wood-turner, from Sheffield, was ex- 
 amined, as follows : ' Have you had any conversation with 
 Yorke, or instructions from him, about arms ? ' ' Not directly 
 with him ; I made some myself.' ' What did you make ? ' 
 ^ I made a dozen for Mr. Gales.' ' A dozen of what ? ' 'Of 
 pike-shafts.' ' Did Mr. Yorke know you were making them 
 for Gales?' 'He did.'" 
 
 Such is a specimen of the evidence adduced on 
 Hardy's trial, as affecting Mr. Gales. How far the anti- 
 cipation of it suggested and justified his escape, the 
 reader will judge. In reference to the most material 
 allegation, he thus wrote in his farewell address, in the 
 last number of the " Sheffield Register " : — 
 
 " None but venal, unjust, or profligate minds, can so far 
 pervert the principles of the [Constitutional] Society, as to 
 
ilYMN ON THE ACQUITTAL OF HARDY. 187 
 
 impute to them a wish to overturn the present form of go- 
 vernment. They published their intentions to arm for self- 
 defence and the internal safety of the kingdom ; they avowed 
 their motives, and they vindicated their pretensions from a 
 clause in the Bill of Rights, that great bulwark of British 
 freedom^ which the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act 
 goes so nearly to sap. It has been insinuated, and I believe 
 pretty generally believed, that I wrote the letter* which is 
 referred to by the Secret Committee, concerning pikes, and 
 given in the last ^Register.' This charge, in the most un- 
 equivocal manner, I deny. I neither wrote, dictated, or was 
 privy to it ; nor, till Mr. Hardy's apprehension, had I any 
 knowledge of it." 
 
 It is only necessary to add here, that on what Dr. 
 Parr calls the ^^ ever-memorable and ever-honoured 
 fifth of November," Hardy was acquitted ; and on the 
 15th of December following, the five members of the 
 Sheffield Constitutional Society were discharged, on 
 entering into recognisances to give evidence against 
 Mr. Henry Yorke. A few days afterwards '^ The 
 Friends of Reform " dined together in Sheffield^ to 
 celebrate the enlargement of their co-patriots. On this 
 occasion, a hymn composed by Montgomery was sung : 
 it contained the following verses, which are not un- 
 worthy of the better days of the author : — 
 
 " Oh ! Thou, who from the abyss of night 
 Called the first beams of morning light ! 
 Whose voice obedient chaos heard ; 
 Who built Creation with a word ; 
 
 '^ From the dark tomb of mental death 
 Awake the nations with a breath ; 
 Round the bright circle of the sun 
 Let Virtue shine, let Knowledge run. 
 
 * It will be recollected that these remarks were published by 
 Mr. Gales some months before the trial of Hardy disclosed the 
 name of the actual writer of the letter in question. 
 
188 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 '' Wide as expands the kindling day. 
 High as the radiant milky-way ; 
 So wide her arms let Freedom spread. 
 So high let Justice lift her head. 
 
 " Bid Peace her smiling reign resume, 
 Where deserts howl, let Eden bloom : 
 Already is Reform begun, — 
 The work is thine — thy will be done! 
 
 " Though all the universe shall die, 
 I'hough heaven and earth in ruins lie, 
 Though sun and stars in smoke decay. 
 Thy Truth shall never pass away." 
 
 The foregoing verses, which, with the substance of 
 the speeches delivered on the occasion when they were 
 sung, appeared in the ^^ Iris," were not calculated to 
 throw any doubt upon the writer's sympathy with the 
 Reformers : and it was said that the party who were 
 anxious to get up a prosecution against him, hesitated 
 between this evidence and that afforded by the printing 
 of the song presently to be mentioned. It may be 
 ^ here added, in Montgomery's own words — ^^ I was 
 preserved from joining myself to any of the political 
 societies, till they were broken up in 1794, when I did 
 associate myself with the remnant of one of them 
 [the ^^Constitutional"], to support the families of 
 several accused leaders who were detained prisoners in 
 London, under the suspension of the Habeas Corpus 
 Act*, and who were finally acquitted without being 
 brought to trial." 
 
 * Dr. Parr's constant toast at this time was, " Qui suspenderunt, 
 suspendantur." — Johnstone's Memoirs of Parr ^ p. 500. 
 
189 
 
 ; ' CHAP. XV. 
 
 1794. 
 
 CRITICAL SITUATION OF MONTGOMERY. — PRINTS " A PATRIOTIC SONG ^^ 
 FOR A STREET-HAWKER. — IT IS DECLARED TO BE A "SEDITIOUS 
 
 LIBEL." MONTGOMERY ARRAIGNED FOR TRIAL AT THE SHEFFIELD 
 
 SESSIONS, FOR PRINTING IT. — TRAVERSES THE INDICTMENT TO 
 
 DONCASTER. YERSES ON HARDY. — BAIL. REMARKS IN THE 
 
 " IRIS." LETTER TO ASTON. ADDRESS TO MR. GALES. — THE 
 
 MISSES GALES. 
 
 It will easily be coDceived that the adroit manner in 
 whicli Gales had eluded the hands of the government 
 prosecutor, when so nearly in his grasp, would be likely 
 to sharpen the vigilance of local informers in reference 
 to the successor of the obnoxious patriot. That Mont- 
 gomery was fully aware of the delicacy of his position, 
 the pacific title, motto, and leading address of his 
 newspaper sufficiently evince. He was, however, 
 surrounded by persons less discreet than himself — 
 he never saw a cap of liherUj on the printing press, 
 but others have seen it * : he took no active part in 
 seditious meetings, but his workman did : meanwhile^ 
 liis paper was the organ, and his office the rendezvous, 
 of the disaffected party. 
 
 We shall now avail ourselves of Montgomery's own 
 
 * It is worthy of remark^ that for many years a button was used 
 by the Nottingkamsliire militia which bore a cap of liberty resting 
 on a book, over which was a hand holding a drawn sword, with 
 the motto, " Pro legihus et lihertate'' The design was made by the 
 celebrated Major Cartwright, in 1775, when he was appointed 
 major of that regiment. 
 
190 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 words: '' Little more than a month after I had become 
 connected with the newspaper [as proprietor], I was 
 one day called into the bookseller's shop, where business 
 orders were received. There I found a poor-looking 
 elderly man, whom I recollected to have seen in the 
 street a little while before, when I was attracted both 
 by his grotesque appearance, and his comical address as 
 a ballad-monger. He stood with a bundle of pamphlets 
 in his hand, crying out in a peculiar tone, ^ Here you 
 have twelve songs for a penny.' Then he recapitulated 
 at full length the title of each, thus : ^ The first song 
 in the book is' — so and so; ' the second song in the 
 book' — so and so; ^ the third song' — so and so; 
 and on he went ^ so and so ' to the end of the catalogue. 
 He now offered me the specimen of an article in his 
 line, and asked what he must pay for six quires of the 
 same ? I immediately replied that I did not deal in 
 such commodities, having better employment for my 
 presses ; he must therefore apply elsewhere (I believe 
 I named a place where he might be served). ^ But,' 
 he rejoined, like one who had some knowledge of the 
 terms used by printers, ^ you have this standing in 
 your office.' * That is more than I know,' was my 
 answer. Taking up the printed leaf, I perceived that 
 it contained two copies of verses, with each of which I 
 had been long familiar, but had never seen them coupled 
 in that shape before ; at the top of the page was the 
 impression of a wood-cut [Liberty and the British 
 Lion], which I recognised as having figured in the 
 frontispiece of an extinct periodical, issued by my pre- 
 decessor, and entitled the ^ Patriot.' The paper also, 
 of which a large stock had devolved to me, was of a 
 particular kind, being the material of certain forms for 
 the registration of freeholds, under a still-born act of 
 parliament, printed on one side only, and which had 
 
PRINTS '^A PATKIOTIC SONG." 191 
 
 been sold for waste. On discovering this, I went up 
 into the office, and asked when and for whom such 
 things as I held in my hand had been printed, as I had 
 no knowledge of the job ? ^ Oh, Sir,' said the foreman, 
 ' they were set up ever so long ago by Jack [Mr. Gales's 
 apprentice], * for himself, and to give away to his com- 
 panions ; and the matter is now standing in the types, 
 just as it was when you bought the stock in the office/ 
 ' Indeed ! ' I exclaimed ; ' but how came the ballad- 
 seller, who was bawling out his twelve songs for a 
 penny the other day, to have a copy ? ' In explanation 
 of this, he stated, that he had formerly known him, 
 w^hen he himself was an apprentice in an office in Derby, 
 from which such wares were supplied to hawkers. Hear- 
 ing his voice in the street, he had called him in for old- 
 acquaintance sake, and, in the course of talking about 
 trade, had shown him an impression of Jack's songs, by 
 which he thought his old acquaintance might make a 
 few pence in his strange way. ^ Well then,' said I, 
 Met the poor fellow have what he wants, if it will do 
 him any good ; but what does he mean by six quires ?' 
 * Not quires of whole sheets, but six times twenty-four 
 copies of this size,' was the information I received on 
 this new branch of literature. I then went down stairs 
 and told my customer that he might have the quantity 
 he wanted for eighteenpence, v/hich would barely be 
 the expense of the paper and working offi He was 
 content; the order was executed, the parcel delivered 
 by myself into his hand, and honestly paid for by him. I 
 have often said, when I have had occasion to tell this 
 adventure of my romantic youth (for adventure it was, 
 and no every-day one, as the issue proved), that if ever 
 in my life I did an act which was iieither good nor bad, 
 or, if either, rather good than bad, it was this. 
 
 " Two months afterwards, one of the town constables 
 
192 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 waited upon me, and very civilly requested that I would 
 Ccill upon him at his residence in the adjacent street. 
 Accordingly I went thither, and asked him for what 
 purpose he wanted to see me. He then produced a 
 magistrate's warrant, charging me with having, on the 
 16th day of August preceding, printed and published a 
 certain seditious libel respecting the war then waging be- 
 tween his Majesty and the French Government, entitled 
 ^ A Patriotic Song, by a Clergyman of Belfast.' I was 
 quite puzzled to comprehend to what production from 
 my press the charge alluded, not the remotest idea of 
 the ballad-seller occurring to me at that moment." A 
 copy of the song was then shown to Montgomery, the 
 identical one from which we now copy, the verse marked 
 as libellous being that here printed in italics : 
 
 A Patriotic Song^ hy a Clergyman of Belfast 
 
 ^' While tyranny marshals its minions around, 
 And bids its fierce legions advance, 
 Fair Freedom ! the hopes of thy sons to confound 
 And restore his old empire in France, — 
 
 ^^ What friend among men to the rights of mankind, 
 But is fired with resentment to see 
 The satraps of pride and oppression combined, 
 To prevent a great land being free ? 
 
 a 
 
 Europ^s fate on the contest's decision depends ; 
 
 Most important its issue ivill he^ 
 For should France be subdued^ Europe's liberty ends^ 
 
 If she triumphs the world ivill be free. 
 
 ^^ Then let every true patriot unite in her cause — 
 A cause of such moment to man : 
 Let all whose souls spurn at tyrannical laws, 
 Lend her all the assistance they can. 
 
INTERVIEW WITH THE CONSTABLE. 193 
 
 " May the spirit of Sparta her armies inspire, 
 And the star of America guide ; 
 May a Washington's wisdom^ a Mirabeau's fire. 
 In her camps and her councils preside ! 
 
 May her sons' fatal discord no longer divide ; 
 
 'Mongst her chiefs no dark traitors be found ; 
 But may they united resist the rough tide. 
 
 Till their toils be with victory crowned ! 
 
 " And at length when sweet peace from her sphere shall 
 descend. 
 When the friends of oppression have fled, 
 Immortal renown shall those heroes attend. 
 Who for freedom fought, conquered, and bled* 
 
 ^' Blazoned high then their deeds shall swell history's 
 page, 
 And adorn lofty poetry's lays. 
 While the memory of tyrants, the curse of their age. 
 In oblivion's dark bastile decays." 
 
 Of course, the instant the printed slip was placed 
 before Montgomery, he recollected his transaction 
 v^ith the hawker ; but remarked, ^^ this song cannot 
 be a libel on the present war, because it was published, 
 to my knowledge, long before hostilities between Eng- 
 land and France began in 1793 ; having been composed 
 for an anniversary celebration of the destruction of the 
 Bastile, and referring solely to the invasion of France 
 by the Austrian and Prussian armies under the Duke 
 of Brunswick, in July, 1792/' 
 
 In reply to further inquiry, the constable explained 
 that, on the day mentioned in the warrant, he w^as 
 ffoing down the High Street, when he saw a man with 
 ballads in his hand, and heard him cry ^^ straws to sell." 
 As it was his business to look after vagrants, he went 
 up to the hawker and bought a straw of him for a 
 
 YOL. I. ^ 
 
194 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY- 
 
 lialfpeiiny ; but complaining that it was a dear bargain, 
 he received one of the songs to boot. Regarding the 
 whole affair as suspicious, he immediately took both 
 the man and his whole stock of papers into safe keeping. 
 The prisoner, having confessed of whom he obtained 
 the songs, was taken before a magistrate, and com- 
 mitted to the house of correction, less as a punish- 
 ment for any offence of his own, than to secure his 
 appearance against the printer, to whom ^^ the trick of 
 selhng a straw, and giving something not worth one, 
 was new;" though a similar ruse had been practised 
 just before Montgomery came to Sheffield, by a fellow 
 who had, in one night, built a ^^ Mushroom Hall" upon 
 Crookes Moor, and on the following Sunday opened it 
 as an alehouse ! 
 
 As the Sheffield Sessions were then being holden, 
 Montgomery was forthwith arraigned, pleaded ^^ Not 
 guilty/' and traversed the indictment to Doncaster 
 Sessions, to be held in the following January. Bail 
 to the amount of 200Z. from himself, and from two sure- 
 ties 100/. each, being demanded, the latter was imme- 
 diately given by two tradesmen, who happened to be 
 in court, and with neither of whom had the prisoner 
 more than a very slight acquaintance.* Joseph Jordan, 
 
 * One of the individuals alluded to, who interested himself at 
 this critical moment, not only by coming forward himself, but in- 
 ducing another person to join him in giving the required bail, was 
 a well-known hosier, of the name of Palfreyman. This activity, 
 coupled with some degree of political notoriety on his own account, 
 soon exposed him to the penalty of imprisonment. It is said that 
 the magistrate who received the bail for Montgomery's appearance 
 at the quarter sessions, expressed, at the same time, a hope that 
 
 by and by " that d d stockinger would himself be got hold 
 
 of." This threat was presently reahsed in a somewhat curious 
 way. Informations were laid, and convictions, with fines, obtained 
 against several shopkeepers in Sheffield for using light wei<^hts. 
 
PALFREYMAN AND MACKENZIE. 195 
 
 tlie song-seller, was remanded to Wakefield, with a 
 recomnnendation from the bench that he should be 
 *' kindly treated" for three months longer, that he 
 might be forthcoming on the trial at Doncaster. 
 
 Political songs — the natural exponents of party- 
 feeling in a free country, where the bulk of the people 
 could read — had been much in vogue since the Revo- 
 lution, and never perhaps were they more popular or 
 more influential than during the reigns of ^^the tlu^ee 
 Georges " who in turn succeeded to the British throne 
 after the death of Queen Anne.* 
 
 Palfreyman believed, with or without sufficient reason, that persons 
 of his class of politics were the selected victims ; and, under this 
 impression, he incautiously remarked, that the law under which 
 the offending shopkeepers suffered was a beneficial one, provided it 
 was impartially administered. For this libel on the integrity of 
 the local bench, he was imprisoned three months in York Castle. 
 The interest with which at least some of the older inhabitants of 
 Sheffield will peruse this memento of a well-remembered towns- 
 man, must be our apology for adding to a note, already so ex- 
 tended. On the enlargement of Palfreyman, he advertised in 
 Montgomery's newspaper that he had brought with him from York 
 Castle a collection of knitted and other work done by the prisoners, 
 which he would sell for them at his shop on Snig Hill ; an act of 
 charity which was carried out with great advantage to the poor 
 convicts. At this time, the minister of St. Paul's Church was the 
 Rev. Alex. Mackenzie, a man whose politics — and he did not hold 
 them coolly — were diametrically opposed to Palfreyman's. The 
 latter, however, had long supplied the former with stockings of 
 the well-known "Oxford mixture" — black silk and fine white 
 yarn — and these, as the cleric was an unusually large person, had 
 to be manufactured to order by Coltmans, of Leicester. On 
 Palfreyman's reappearance in his shop, Mackenzie entered one day : 
 " Well, thou Jacobin," said he, " thou hast got back again from 
 gaol — I like thy spirit in this instance;" and he doubled his 
 usual order for stockings. 
 
 ^ Numerous specimens of these compositions relating to this 
 period may be seen in Wriglit's ''History of England under the 
 
 O 2 
 
196 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 At the same time that Montgomery appears to have 
 acted with commendable caution in prosCy he may be 
 said to have identified himself somewhat too fearlessly 
 with the patriots, in rhyme; especially when we re- 
 collect that he was not only under bond to give evi- 
 dence on the trial of Yorke, if called upon, but actually 
 under prosecution himself. In this critical position, 
 he not only wrote the spirited '' Hymn," before cited, 
 but published '' Verses, occasioned by the visit of 
 Thomas Hardy, immediately after his acquittal, to the 
 grave of his wife, who had died, during his confinement, 
 in child-bed, declaring, in her last moments, that the 
 grief occasioned by her husband's misfortunes had 
 broken her heart." 
 
 Pending the trial itself, much interest was natu- 
 rally excited on the subject, and opinions were very 
 freely expressed, as well in favour of the printer as 
 otherwise; both parties confidently prejudging the 
 cause in its issue. To allay this ferment of discussion, 
 as well as state his own feelings and views, Montgomery 
 addressed the readers of the '^ Iris," and advised his 
 friends to suspend their judgment for the present, and 
 await a decision which he felt no reluctance to entrust 
 to the verdict of a British jury. Referring to the 
 committal of Jordan to Wakefield, for want of bail, 
 he says: — ^^ May the hand of aflliction smite me as 
 severely as it has smitten him, and may the arrows 
 of adversity pierce my soul as deeply as they have 
 pierced his, if even in the person of my enemy I forget 
 
 House of Hanover, illustrated from the Caricatures and Satires of 
 the Day," 1848, an ingenious and entertaining work, in which, 
 however, the merits of the government, which saved this country 
 from the perils to which it was exposed from an avowed propa- 
 gandism of the lessons of revolutionary France, in the reign of 
 George III., are not over highly estimated. 
 
REMAKKS IN THE ^^ IRIS/' 197 
 
 the respect due to sacred misfortune ! Yet, in the 
 present instance, whilst my heart bleeds for the dis- 
 tress, and commiserates the condition of my accuser, 
 I wish to see him eat the bread of honest industry, 
 neither moistened by his own tears nor embittered by 
 mine — for base is the office, and guilty are the wages, 
 of an Informer ; I would rather perish by the snares of 
 a traitor, than reap the harvest of his treachery. To 
 the justice of an enlightened public I submit myself 
 and my cause. Since my entrance upon business, 
 that generous public has honoured me with a patronage 
 far superior to my merits : may my life expire with my 
 gratitude ! Though I wish ever to be considered as an 
 advocate in the sacred cause of liberty and of all 
 MANKIND, I am conscious to myself of no other views 
 than such as are strictly consonant to the principles 
 and spirit of the British Constitution : that Constitution 
 in its genuine purity I truly revere ; and, deploring only 
 its abuses and corruptions, I do not hesitate to declare 
 that I am behind none of His Majesty's subjects in that 
 just loyalty which consists not in a fiery party rage, hut 
 a steady attachment to the true interests of my country^ 
 and dutiful obedience to those laius by ivhich the king 
 reigns^ and the people are governed. Upon these prin- 
 ciples the ^^Iris" has hitherto been conducted, and upon 
 these principles it is still intended to be continued. 
 Notwithstanding all the disadvantages under which it 
 was born, the ^^Iris" has been nursed with tenderness, 
 and cherished with indulgence : though its cradle has 
 been rocked amidst tempests, tempests have not yet 
 crushed it; though the harpies of envy, bigotry, and 
 prejudice, on threatening wings, have hovered round 
 it, those harpies have not yet devoured it. The infant 
 has been devoted to its country. May its youth acquire 
 increasing strength, and may that strength be exerted 
 
 3 
 
198 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 only in the cause of truth, of justice, and humanity I 
 May its manhood be glorious, and its old age honour- 
 able ! But if it ever should forfeit the character of 
 impartiality and independence, may it perish^ and with 
 \t perish James Montgomery !" 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 " Sheffield, Oct. 30. 1794. 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 " You know ere this what a comfortable situation I am 
 in at present. I assure you I have got York Castle wedged 
 in my head, and, for the life of me, 1 cannot get it out again ; 
 indeed, my upper story is so full of it, that there is scarce 
 room for anything else to breathe. No matter — when things 
 are so bad with me, I comfort myself that they are no 
 worse. . . . [six lines obliterated.] I am accused of having 
 wickedly, maliciously, seditiously, and flagitiously attempted 
 to overturn the King and Constitution by force and arms — of 
 what ? — a halfpenny song ! I am accused of having attempted 
 to move, inflame, and stir up sedition amongst His Majesty's 
 liege subjects, — by what? — a song upon the demolition of 
 the Bastile in France ! I am further, upon the oath of the 
 jurors of our Sovereign Lord the now King, charged with 
 printing and publishing a scandalous and false libel upon the 
 present ]wst and necessary ivar — How ? — By reprinting and 
 republishing a Patriotic Song^ written by Mr. Scott of 
 Dromore, and sung at a festival held at Belfast, in com- 
 memoration of the destruction of the Bastile, on the 14th 
 July, 1792; which afterwards was printed in the ^Northern 
 Star,' the ' Morning Chronicle,' and in the ^ Sheffield Re- 
 gister' of that 3^ear, eight months before the war com- 
 menced. Thus, this false, scandalous, seditious libel was 
 originally uttered long before the war was dreamed of. . . . 
 [thirty lines obliterated.] Paul Positive, Esq., Marcellus 
 Moonshine, J. M. G., Plato, and 40,000 other idle fellows, 
 send their best respects to you and Peter Dubious. 
 
 " I am, with sincere esteem, 
 " Your friend, 
 
 " J. M. G. 
 
 " Mr. Aston, Manchester," 
 
GALES EMBARKS FOR AMERICA. 199 
 
 Immediately on leaving Sheffield^ Mr. Gales fomid a 
 temporary asylum in the house of a fellow patriot, Mr. 
 Payne, of Newhill Grange, near Wath : and among 
 Montgomery's exploits in horsemanship, was the carry- 
 ing Mrs. Gales behind him on a pillion, to visit the 
 friend who afforded this unsuspected hiding-place for her 
 husband. '^ We were," says he, '^ four hours in riding 
 eight miles." After remaining concealed in England 
 a short time, during which Mrs. Gales endeavoured ^^ 
 with the assistance of Montgomery, to realise a small 
 sum amidst the wreck of their affairs, the fugitive and 
 his family contrived to reach Hamburgh, where, for a 
 time, new trials awaited them. 
 
 In a long letter, dated Dec. 4. 1794, and signed ^^Paul 
 Positive," Montgomery apologises to Aston for the non- 
 insertion of a communication of his in the ^Mris," in con- 
 sequence of his partner being ^^ so horribly intimidated 
 at the prosecution levelled against" himself. He then 
 gives an affecting account of the sufferings of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gales and their children, who having embarked at 
 Hamburgh for the United States, encountered such 
 tempestuous weather at the mouth of the Elbe, that 
 they were compelled to return to Altona, forfeiting 20/. 
 of passage-money, which, with loss on their sea stores, 
 reduced their means one-half ! Here a daughter was 
 born, to whom they gave the name of Altona ; she 
 is, we believe, still living.f From thence he proceeded 
 
 * We have before us several letters written by her at the most 
 calamitous crisis of their affairs ; and they exhibit Winifred Gales 
 in a most pleasing character, as a wife, and woman of business, and 
 an adept with the pen. 
 
 •j- Mr. Gales had eight children, who lived to grow up, viz., — 
 1, Joseph; 2. Winifred ; 3. Thomas; 4. Sarah; 5. Altona; 6. 
 Anne Eliza ; 7. Caroline ; 8. Weston. We believe they all 
 married, except one of the daughters. Joseph is still living, 
 
 o 4 
 
200 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 to the United States, where he arrived in safety, and 
 was soon afterwards joined by Mrs. Gales and her 
 children.* The Sheffield Reformer did not leave his 
 native land thus suddenly, and, as it turned out, never 
 to see it again, without sharing the sympathy of his 
 compatriots ; for, on the 30th of July, the members of 
 the " Constitutional Society " voted to him an address 
 of ^^approbation and condolence.''^ 
 
 Montgomery had now the happiness of returning 
 with large interest, and in a manner not to have been 
 foreseen, to the nearest relatives of his late master, the 
 kindness he had received from himself. The two elder 
 
 and also his sister, Mrs. Seaton, of Washington. Thomas was 
 for several years Judge- Advocate General of the most southerly 
 department of the United States, and afterwards Indian agent at 
 Natchitoches, where he died, Nov. 18. 1845. We may perhaps be 
 pardoned if we preserve here a little memento of the very early 
 life of Colonel Thomas Gales, which turned up fifty years after the 
 period alluded to in the text. One day, in the year 1844, Miss 
 Gales received a small piece of paper, with the words " Tom, be 
 QUIET," printed thereon in large letters, and with it this account : — 
 Thomas Gales, her nephew, when a child, was playing about in his 
 father's printing-office, when one of the compositors set up in type 
 and printed for the boy the foregoing admonition, which the latter 
 took and gave to his schoolmistress; she kept it many years, 
 and at her death it passed into the hands of another person, who 
 sent it to Miss Gales, as above stated, long indeed after the time 
 when to the subject of it the quietness of the grave had succeeded 
 to the activity of a useful and honourable life, in the land of his 
 adoption " beyond the western wave." 
 
 * They sailed from Liverpool August 26. 1796. 
 
 f " I do not know," said Charles Dibdin, in 1788, ^' how soon 
 my friend Gales may make a fortune, which ultimately must in- 
 evitably happen, if unwearied industry, fair dealing, the world's 
 regard, and a well-stocked head, as well as shop, are the materials 
 to procure it." — Tour^ p. 433. This vaticination, however it 
 might be eventually realised in another hemisphere, was at the 
 present moment singularly out of keeping with the eviction of the 
 publisher of the " Sheffield Register." 
 
THE MISSES GALES. 201 
 
 sisters of the expatriated politician, immediately came 
 to the shop in Hartshead, and continued the bookselling 
 and stationery business, under the firm of ^^ Anne and 
 Elizabeth Gales." With these ladies, who were joined 
 afterwards by their youngest sister, Sarah, Montgomery 
 continued to reside, till death parted them from an in- 
 mate on whom, in all the trials of half-a-century — and 
 longer than this in the case of the last survivor — they 
 confidently, and never in vain relied, for the advice and 
 assistance of a brother. 
 
202 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 CHAR XVL 
 
 1795. 
 
 TRIAL AT DONCASTER. — JUDGES AXD COUNSEL. — SPEECHES ON BOTH 
 
 SIDES. THE JURY AND THEIR VERDICT. — MOTION FOR ARREST OF 
 
 JUDGMENT MADE AND REFUSED. SENTENCE. MONTGOMERY RE- 
 MOVED TO YORK CASTLE. ADDRESS TO THE PUBLIC. — CONVERSA- 
 TIONS. — CURIOUS DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE PROSECUTION. 
 REJVIARKS UPON THEM. 
 
 At the Doncaster Quarter Sessions, held January 22. 
 1795, James Montgomery appeared to answer the out- 
 standing indictment for libel; or, according to the '' true 
 bill " found against him by the grand jury, for ^^ the se- 
 veral false, scandalous, malicious, and seditious libels," 
 contained in the third verse of the song already given. The 
 jurors also found, that *^ James Montgomery, printer, 
 being a wicked, malicious, seditious, and evil-disposed per- 
 son, and well knowing the premises, but wickedly, mali- 
 ciously, and seditiously contriving, devising, and intending 
 to stir up and excite discontent and sedition among his 
 Majesty's subjects, and to alienate and withdraw the af- 
 fection, fidelity, and allegiance of his said Majesty's sub- 
 jects from his said Majesty ; and unlawfully and wickedly 
 to seduce and encourage his said Majesty's subjects to 
 resist and oppose his said Majesty's government, and 
 the said war," &c. When we read this egregious mass 
 of verbiage as the delivery of ^^ twelve honest English- 
 men," and recollect that it does not contain one word of 
 truth, there seems to be required for it something more 
 than the soft apology that it is merely ^^ an old legal 
 formula." Montgomery found it something more, as 
 
TEIAL AT DONCASTEE. 203 
 
 others had done. Michael Angelo Taylor^ Esq., M.P.^ 
 chairman; R. A. Athorpe, Esq., Bacon Frank, Esq., 
 Rev. James Wilkinson, and Rev. J. Stovin, were the 
 justices on the bench. The counsel for the crown were 
 Mr. Tooker of Rotherham, Mr. Buck of Leeds, and 
 Mr, Hill of Tadcaster; counsel for the defendant, Mr. 
 Vaughan of London, and Mr. Maikham, son of the 
 Archbishop of York. 
 
 Mr. Hill having opened the indictment, Mr. Tooker 
 rose and addressed the jury at considerable length ; 
 dwelling on the war as ^^ just and necessary ; " asserted 
 the bearing of the song upon it ; dwelt on the 
 effects of the dissemination of libellous publications, 
 and arguments in favour of parliamentary reform ; ad- 
 ding, ^^ these things had been too long suffered in that 
 quarter whence the libel tliey were met to try pro- 
 ceeded." * He was going into a detail of the conduct 
 of Mr. Gales; the principles ^^ preached up in the 
 ' Sheffield Register,' " &c., when he was interrupted by 
 Mr. Vaughan, who contended that his client had 
 nothing to do with Mr. Gales and his principles. 
 Mr. Tooker having concluded his speech, Jordan, the 
 song-seller, and Hall, the Sheffield constable, were 
 examined at length, their evidence being, in substance, 
 agreeable to the account already given in the words of 
 Montgomery. Mr. Vaughan then rose on behalf of 
 the defendant, and addressed the jury in a most brilliant 
 and animated speech, which lasted about an hour and 
 a half. He characterised the prosecution as *^ the last 
 shift of men who, with eyes of the most malignant 
 
 * A striking illustration of the animus which inspu^ed this allusion 
 in the speech of the government prosecutor, was furnished by the 
 fact, that on the 25th of July, 1794, the bail of a substantial citizen, 
 burgess, and guild brother of Leith, in Scotland, was rejected, 
 *' because he read the ' Iris / "' 
 
204 MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMERT. 
 
 jealousy, had watched every step of his client ; had 
 pryed into all his actions, by day and by night: one of 
 whom had declared, in a public company, that he had 
 read the ' Iris,' a newspaper of which the defendant is 
 the editor, six times in one day, to find a libel in it if 
 possible — but no such libel was to be found." The 
 learned counsel then argued at great length on the ab- 
 surdity of seeking to construct a guilty intention on 
 such an act as that of the printer. ^^Did his client fore- 
 see, or could any man in his senses ever dream of the 
 mighty injury that was charged in the indictm.ent, as 
 intended to have been done by the publication of six 
 quires of a song, printed long before the present war 
 was ever thought of? My client was applied to by 
 this Jordan, to print six quires of these songs, which he 
 agreed to print for eighteen pence ! Eighteen pence ! 
 six pennyworth of paper, six pennyworth of printing, 
 and six pennyworth of profit ! Good God ! Will any 
 man believe, in times like the present, when prosecutions 
 are so frequent, and the punishment for libels so severe, 
 that a man not out of his senses, would run his neck 
 into such a noose for sixpence! — would hazard his 
 liberty by publishing any thing that he conceived might 
 be tortured into sedition for such a pitiful reward ! 
 Surely no ! Where then is the intention specified in 
 the indictment? " 
 
 After Mr. Vaughan sat down, a conversation ensued 
 whether Mr. Tooker ought not to reply, as no witnesses 
 were produced by the defendant, when it was deter- 
 mined by the court that Mr. Tooker was not entitled 
 to the privilege of a reply. 
 
 Mr. M. A. Taylor then summed up the evidence, 
 and delivered a charge to the jury, which, in fact, con- 
 tained the reply which the court denied to Mr. Tooker. 
 
 The jury, after having been locked up for nearly an 
 
SENTENCE. 205 
 
 hour*^ returned into court with a verdict, ^^ guilty of 
 jprinting and publishing^'' which the court refused to 
 accept ; they again retired for fifty minutes longer, and 
 then brought in their verdict, ^' Guilty." Mr. Vaughan 
 immediately rose, and addressed the court in arrest of 
 judgment ; but this motion, after considerable argument, 
 was overruled, and the chairman sentenced the defendant 
 to suffer three months'^ imprisonment in the Castle of York^ 
 and to pay a fine of twenty pounds. Montgomery, w^ho 
 had been allowed to return home, was the next day taken 
 into custody, and conveyed by a messenger to York. 
 
 To this trial Montgomery often alluded in later life, 
 in our conversations with him. On one occasion, when 
 a remark was made on the length of time sometimes 
 occupied in public meetings, an individual present 
 said he had stood twelve hours without much fatigue, 
 hearing debates in a popular assembly. Montgomery, 
 referring to this trial, said, '' I once sat nine hours in 
 a court of justice, where my own case was pending. 
 Everett : ^' You would, however, sit with feelings very 
 different from those of a person listening to debates in 
 which he had no interest beyond what was common to 
 his fellow auditors." Montgomery : ^^ Of course I did; 
 but still, mine were far from painful emotions. It was 
 not a case of life and death — I was the hero in those 
 days — and on that occasion especially, experienced a 
 high degree of excitement ; indeed, a kind of bravado 
 carried me forward. On the day after my trial, when I 
 
 * The worshipful head of corporation in a neighbouring town, 
 having been hoaxed by a letter pretending to confer upon him the 
 dignity of knighthood for his active and loud-spoken loyalty, our 
 poet versified and printed the story under the title of " The Mayor 
 of Donchester." The civic functionary to whom the rhymes were 
 supposed to apply, happening to be in court when the jury had re- 
 tired to find their verdict, said, " If I were one of them I should 
 pronounce him guilty without so much loss of time." 
 
206 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 stopped at an inn between Doncaster and York, to take 
 tea with a lady and gentleman, the thought of leaving 
 home, under such circumstances, seemed, for the first 
 time, so oppressive, that I gave vent to tears and wept 
 heartily." Holland : ^' Could you show me an original 
 copy of the song ? " Montgomery : ^' I do not possess 
 one * : it was first published, as you are aware, by Mr. 
 Gales, in the ' Register,' several months before the date 
 of my offence, and I detached that number of the paper 
 from the file to produce in evidence on my trial ; but 
 after laying it on the table, in court, I never saw it 
 again. Immediately after my conviction, old Cronie, 
 a Sheffield ballad-printer, issued the obnoxious song 
 with a mysterious substitution of asterisks for the verse 
 on which the charge against me was founded, giving, in a 
 note, a sly reason why he dare not reprint the whole ! 
 but this did not lead to a prosecution of the printer, 
 an honour to which, as he said, he could never attain." 
 Holland: ^^ Had you really no misgiving, when you 
 printed the song, that it might be actionable ? " Mont- 
 gomery : ^' None at all : I never was more innocent of 
 any evil or questionable intention in my life.'* 
 
 Holland: "^ I have heard it said that when the chair- 
 man, on your trial, sent the jury back to reconsider 
 their verdict, he wished them to have given a more 
 favourable one."f Montgomery: ^^ No, Sir; Taylor 
 
 * Many years afterwards, when he found a copy of the song, he 
 presented it to Mr. Holland, observing, at the same time, that on 
 reading it over, under the influence of present feelings and circum- 
 stances, he could hardly persuade himself that he had been prose- 
 cuted, imprisoned, and fined for the publication of the few harm- 
 less verses in question. 
 
 f So far was this magistrate, indeed, from being kindly dis- 
 posed towards Montgomery on this occasion, that, as the latter 
 afterwards informed us, he made a very unnecessary remark when 
 he announced the judgment of the court : — '' Mr. Montgomery," 
 
CONVERSATION. 207 
 
 was no friend of mine." Holland: "I thought he 
 might perhaps have been leniently disposed^ as he was 
 himself a Whig in politics.'' Montgomery : '' He was 
 a Whig ; but you must recollect, that a Whig Member 
 of Parliament arguing with his distinguished opponents 
 in the House of Commons, and a Whig magistrate 
 sitting on the bench, and trying a poor printer for libel, 
 are very different cases. I still think this was one of 
 the most unjust and unmerited prosecutions ever in- 
 stituted, because I really intended no offence whatever. 
 In my other prosecution, instituted by Mr. Athorpe, 
 there was at least some pretext, because I had wounded 
 the feelings of an individual, and that severely ; 
 although even there I had not knowingly said any thing 
 but the truth." 
 
 Montgomery, at the period of the trial, was but just 
 turned twenty-three years of age ; and his case, altoge- 
 ther, was one of more than ordinary interest: an amiable 
 and ingenious young man, whose unsuspecting conduct 
 had betrayed him into an act which enabled his prosecutors 
 
 said he, " you are a young man, and for an offence Hke yours, you 
 may think yourself well off that you are not ordered to stand in 
 the pillory for an hour ! " This impotent and gratuitous insult so 
 offended Montgomery, that he resolved, should an opportunity 
 occur, to retaliate. A short time afterwards, Mr. Taylor offered 
 himself as a candidate for the representation of the county of York 
 in Parliament : now was the time for Montgomery — he wrote a 
 spirited and severe notice of the pretensions of the forensic as- 
 pirant ; and actually had the temerity to publish this pasquinade 
 in the "Iris," while he was under prosecution for the second indict- 
 ment, which afterwards again subjected him to fine and imprison- 
 ment. This paragraph either never reached its object, or he was too 
 wise to take any notice of it; for, after Montgomery's second convic- 
 tion, when not experiencing all the enlargement which he had been 
 promised in the Castle-yard, he wrote a letter to the magistrate, re- 
 questing his interference. The latter at once not only returned a 
 polite answer, but immediately ordered the required perquisites 
 and liberties to be allowed to the prisoner. 
 
208 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 to punish him for the offences of another, and for which he 
 was sentenced to suffer fine and imprisonment, while the 
 ruin of a business, upon which he had recently entered, 
 appeared to be contemplated and inevitable. He had, 
 indeed, previously experienced vicissitudes and priva- 
 tions, and had endured some obloquy ; but the horrors 
 of a gaol were a climax of suffering, to which his deli- 
 cate frame and, still more, his harassed and fervid mind 
 were apparently very ill-suited. These miseries, how- 
 ever, were not wholly without alleviation ; parties were 
 found willing to manage his concerns ; and the testimo- 
 nies which were, in various ways, borne to his integrity, 
 were alike creditable to himself and his friends. 
 
 It would be unpardonable not to notice, that, on the 
 evening previous to his trial at Doncaster, an old man 
 sought him out, not only for the purpose of administer- 
 ing consolation, but of offering him, had he required it, 
 more substantial aid. This individual was no other 
 than Mr. Hunt, of Wath, who, it will be recollected, 
 had first received the fugitive when he ran away from 
 Mirfield. This interview was truly affecting, ^' and will 
 ever live in the remembrance of him who can forget an 
 injury, but not a kindness ; no father could have evinced 
 a greater affection for a darling son ; the tears he shed 
 were honourable to his feelings, and were the best testi- 
 mony to the conduct and integrity of James Mont- 
 gomery."* 
 
 What his feelings, opinions, and employment were, 
 during his incarceration, would have been a subject of 
 speculation, had we not the means of giving this in- 
 formation in his own words, which, we doubt not, 
 will be read with peculiar interest. In a letter, 
 dated Castle of York, Jan. 25th, 1795, and published in 
 
 * Mirror. 
 
LETTEE IN THE '^ IRIS." 209 
 
 the ^^ Iris/' Montgomery says : '^ My trial is now past. 
 The issue is known. To a verdict of a jury of my 
 countrymen it is my duty to bow with the deepest 
 reverence — to the sentence of the law it is equally my 
 duty to submit with silent resignation. It will be time 
 enough to murmur and repine, when I am conscious of 
 having merited punishment for real transgressions. I 
 will not here^ because it might be improper now, repeat 
 what I solemnly declared in a late ' Iris ; ' neither will I 
 retract it ; for though I cheerfully resign myself to suf- 
 fering, I need not yet blush for my intentions. The 
 verdict of a jury may pronounce an innocent person 
 * Guilty;' but it will be remembered that a verdict can- 
 not make him ^ Guilty.' .... 
 
 '^ To a generous and sympathising public, which has 
 been so exceedingly interested in my behalf, I owe a 
 debt of gratitude which the future services of my whole 
 life can never repay. I pledge myself never to relin- 
 quish the cause of liberty, justice, and humanity, whilst 
 I possess any powders of mind or body that can be 
 advantageous to my country. 
 
 ^' I should, however, be unworthy of the name of a 
 man, if I did not, on the present occasion, feel the 
 weight of the blow levelled against me ; but I should be 
 still more unworthy of that character, were I to sink 
 under it. I do feel, but I will not sink. Though 
 all the world should forsake me, this consolation can 
 never fail me, that the great Searcher of Hearts, whose 
 eye watches over every atom of the universe, knows 
 every secret intention of my soul : and when at the bar 
 of eternal justice this cause shall again be tried, I do 
 indulge the humble hope that his approving voice shall 
 confirm the verdict which I feel his finger has written 
 upon my conscience. 
 
 " This hope shall bear me through my present mis- 
 
 YOL. I. P 
 
210 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 fortune : this hope shall illuminate the walls of my 
 prison ; shall cheer my silent solitwde, and wing the 
 melancholy hours with comfort. Meanwhile, the few 
 months of my captivity shall not be unprofitably spent. 
 The 'Iris' shall be conducted upon the same firm, in- 
 dependent, and impartial principles which have secured 
 to its editor so great a share of public patronage. Not 
 long shall I be separated from my friends ; their re- 
 membrance would shorten a much longer confinement. 
 Soon shall I return to the bosom of society, and oh ! 
 may I never deserve worse, but infinitely better of my 
 country, than I have hitherto done." 
 
 This letter displays a becoming spirit of firmness, 
 moderation, and calmness; arid its publication pro- 
 duced a very favourable impression on the minds 
 of many persons not previously at all well disposed 
 towards the writer. From the sympathy of his towns- 
 people and others, he was constantly receiving every 
 mitigation of which their kindness could render his 
 punishment susceptible : inquiries after his health and 
 wishes for his welfare were constantly and aflfectionately 
 made ; and it must have aflforded him no small satis- 
 faction to learn, that not only was the good will of his 
 friends undiminished, but that the placability of his 
 temper under this unprovoked and harsh discipline had 
 increased their number amongst his townsmen. 
 
 A key to the motives and machinations of Mont- 
 gomery's persecutors was curiously brought to light 
 through the writer of this paragraph : The poet thus 
 alludes to the subject. ^' In the spring of 1839, a packet 
 was put into my hands containing several of the original 
 documents connected with my trial for a seditious libel 
 at Doncaster, in 1795. Among these there is a letter, 
 signed by the Duke of Portland, his Majesty's Secretary 
 of State for the Home Department, addressed to a ma- 
 
EXTRACT FROM PROSECUTING COUNSEL'S BRIEF. 211 
 
 gistrate of this neighbourhood (Sheffield), apparently in 
 answer to a communication from the latter, wherein his 
 Grace approves of the several steps taken against the 
 song-seller and myself, accompanied by some statesman-^ 
 like hints respecting further proceedings. There are 
 several letters from Mr. White^ the Solicitor to the 
 Treasury, to the attorney for the prosecution here [Mr. 
 Brookfield] ; in one of which the latter is authorised to 
 give briefs to three counsel named, ^ with the Attorney- 
 General's compliments.' Thus I learned that I had 
 actually suifered — not to say enjoyed — the honour of a 
 state prosecution. Another document is the Sheffield 
 solicitor's bill of costs, at full length, indorsed, ^ Rex v. 
 Montgomery. G. B.'s hill^ QQl. 8^. 2d. : Mr. White paid 
 this.' What Mr. White himself, and the Attorney- 
 General, afterwards Lord Eldon, received, I know not. 
 There are several other memoranda of no signification 
 now. But the most precious of these ancient manu- 
 scriptSj rescued as unexpectedly from hopeless per- 
 dition as any classic treasure from the ruins of Her- 
 culaneum, is a fragment of the original draft of the 
 brief delivered to the counsel for the prosecution. 
 From this I make the following extract. After some 
 high-seasoned vituperation of my predecessor, the scribe 
 proceeds thus: — 
 
 '^ ' The prisoner (myself) for a long time acted as 
 his (Mr. G.'s) amanuensis,' — the next seven words ex- 
 press an after-thought, being interpolated in the drafts 
 — ' and occasionally wrote essays for the newspaper.' 
 Since he has been the ostensible manager and pro- 
 prietor of the ' Iris,' he has pursued the same line of 
 conduct, and his printing office has been precisely of 
 the same stamp.' This refers to a charge in a fore- 
 going clause, respecting Mr. G.'s office, that from it 
 ^ all the inflammatory and seditious resolutions, pamph- 
 
 p 2 
 
212 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 lets^ and papers issued' of the political societies in 
 Sheffield. The paragraph goes on, referring to myself: 
 ^ Without calling in question the names or characters of 
 some of his principal supporters who ought to act 
 differently, suffice it to say, that this prosecution is 
 carried on chiefly with a view of putting a stop to the 
 meetiiigs of the associated clubs i7i Sheffield ; and it is 
 hoped that if we are fortunate enough to succeed in 
 convicting the prisoner, it will go a great way towards 
 curbing the insolence they have uniformly manifested, 
 and particularly since the late acquittals.' Thus," 
 concludes Montgomery, ^^ after the lapse of nearly half 
 a century, the true key to the measures of my adver- 
 saries against me is found :' ' * and thus, it may be added, 
 do the ^^ side-lights of history " become instructive and 
 important.* 
 
 * Works, p. 140. 
 
213 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 1795. 
 
 MONTGOMERY AND THE GAOLER. — THE "ENTHUSIAST" RESUMED. — 
 
 REDHEAD YORKE. VERSES " TO CELIA." ADDRESS FROM DEBATING 
 
 SOCIETY, AND THE POET'S ANSWER. HIS RELEASE FROM PRISON. — 
 
 ADDRESS TO THE READERS OF THE " IRIS." THE " WHISPERER." 
 
 PUBLICATION AND SUPPRESSION OF THE VOLUME. — CONVER- 
 SATION RELATIVE TO IT. ARCHDEACON WRANGHAM's COPY. — BUR- 
 LESQUE WRITING. DISSOLUTION OF PARTNERSHIP. 
 
 He had not been long '^in residence ^^ at York, before 
 he learnt that he might, on soliciting the governor, have 
 the privilege of walking in the Castle-yard. Not feel- 
 ing inclined to ask a favour in that quarter, he con- 
 tented himself with the prescribed morning perambula- 
 tions, and his progress to and from the place of worship 
 (then the Court Room, a fire having just before taken 
 place in the Chapel). One morning, during service, Mont- 
 gomery noticed, incidentally, that he was an object of 
 some curiosity to two strange gentlemen who had got 
 into the Court Room. Soon after his return to his 
 ^Men," as he termed the cell, Mr. Clayton^, the keeper 
 of the Castle, came in, and addressed the poet in terms so 
 much obscured by the vehemence with which he spoke 
 that it was some time before Montgomery could com- 
 
 * This person, who was for many years the governor of York 
 Castle, had originally gone there, in the first place, as a debtor 
 from Sheffield, passing, after his enlargement, through various sub- 
 ordinate situations of trust to the responsible office alluded to. 
 
 F 3 
 
214 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 preliend the relation in whicli he stood to the matter 
 of Mr. Turnkey's wrath. It turned out, however, that 
 his object was to apologise to his prisoner for the man- 
 ner in which he understood the latter had been insulted 
 during Divine service that morning, ending with the 
 expression of free leave to him to walk in the yard, a 
 privilege of which he thenceforward constantly availed 
 himself. Who the strangers were, or whether they had 
 really in any way misconducted themselves, was never 
 otherwise known to Montgomery ; but to the report 
 that they had done so he was indebted for a favour 
 which formed no small ingredient in what might be 
 called his prison comforts. 
 
 Amongst other amusements of his prison hours, he 
 resumed the composition of a series of essays, entitled 
 the ^^ Enthusiast.^' ^' After a silence of five months," 
 says he, ^' I have found my tongue again, and in a place 
 of great security too, under the sure protection of lock 
 and key. Now, when a person gets fairly over head 
 and ears in a prison, he has nothing else to do but to 
 make himself as merry and as comfortable as he can." 
 He then proceeds, in a somewhat jocose strain, to de- 
 scant on the brevity of life, and the folly of making it 
 still more brief by neglecting to enjoy what ice may^ 
 because we cannot enjoy what lue ivould^ which he thus 
 humorously illustrates: — ^^ Because life is short, you 
 will not enjoy it ; because a glass of wine does not con- 
 tain a gallon, you will perish for thirst rather than drink 
 it ! When I was a child I broke the bones of my hobby- 
 horse because it was not a race-horse ; and what do you 
 think I did next? Why, sir, I sat down and cried my 
 heart out of my eyes, because I had neither the wooden 
 nor the living horse ! Now this was acting like a man 
 — at least such a man as you are. My good grand- 
 mother, a notable interpreter of dreams and omens, laid 
 
HENRY REDHEAD YORKE. 215 
 
 down her prayer-book, took off her spectacles, and cast- 
 ing such a look, first at me, and then at the poker, 
 whilst she smote her breast, with inimitable pathos, ex- 
 claimed, ^^ My Moonshine ivas riever^ made for this nsoorld! " 
 My pious grandmother was woefully mistaken in this, 
 as well as in many other matters respecting me. For, 
 upon my conscience, I have lived in the world to this 
 very day, and have found so many high roads and by- 
 paths, so many mountains, valleys, rocks, rivers, lakes, 
 seas, forests, deserts, gardens, glades, meadows, ups and 
 dowais, heres and theres, straight and curved lines, 
 points, angles, triangles, circles, squares, superficies, 
 and a thousand other et ccetera^ that I am sometimes 
 inclined to despair of ever finding my way out again." 
 In this manner could he occasionally trifle amidst the 
 gloom and solitude of a prison ; but tliis was an af- 
 fected and fictitious hilarity, courted and indulged only 
 to beguile the heart from the contemplation and pres- 
 sure of real grief. 
 
 At this time, Henry Redhead Yorke was confined in 
 the Castle on a committal for high treason : on this 
 charge being abandoned for the minor one of sedition, 
 the ofiender, while he lost by the change what was 
 very important to him — six-and-eightpence a day for 
 his maintenance — obtained a degree of enlargement, 
 which enabled him to visit Montgomery in his room. 
 On one of these occasions, he asked the poet what book 
 he was reading. ^^ Gil Bias," was the reply. ^^ Ah !" 
 said Yorke, taking up the volume, and turning to the 
 second chapter, where the hero gives so amusing an 
 account of his supper and of his companion in the 
 town of Pennaflor, '' I have resembled that simple 
 fool Signor Gil Bias de Santillane in his conduct at 
 the inn — spoiled by the extravagant flattery of para- 
 sites and hypocrites, none of whom had the honesty of 
 
 P 4 
 
216 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 the Cavalier in seeking to make me the wiser for their 
 tricks ; but I have read the lesson to myself." A 
 person from Leeds having just at this moment called 
 to see Montgomery, beckoned him aside, and asked him 
 whether he thought Yorke needed and would accept of 
 pecuniary assistance ? The reply being in the affirma- 
 tive, he gave Montgomery five guineas^ which the latter 
 lianded to Yorke, who received the money with a gush 
 of tears^ which showed, as the relator said to us, that 
 ^^ he had a heart after all." 
 
 To the inquiries of a friend, Montgomery thus re- 
 plies in a letter : — ^^ To your kind queries I answer, 
 that I have been very much indisposed all the last 
 week, but am considerably better now. I use as much 
 exercise as I can in my room, and, notwithstanding the 
 severity of the season, generally keep my window open 
 all day ; and, indeed, spend many hours at it, admiring 
 the very pretty prospect into the country which lies 
 before it. I have particularly fallen very deeply in 
 love with a loooden windmill^ which, though at the dis- 
 tance of two miles, is very amusing company to me, 
 and preaches very emphatically de vanitate mundi et 
 fiiga seculoritm.^ 
 
 Among other expressions of sympathy, he received a 
 consolatory letter, of a sober and judicious character, 
 written by an unknown individual, and signed Celia. 
 To this effusion he replied in a copy of verses, which 
 are not printed in his works, though not altogether un- 
 worthy of preservation in this place : — 
 
 " To Celia. 
 
 " Where sorrow and solitude reign, 
 Reclined on my elbow I sit, 
 And turn o'er the leaves of my brain. 
 But can neither find comfort nor wit. 
 
 ^ Concerning the vanity of the world and the flight of time. 
 
VERSES TO ^^ CELIA." 217 
 
 My Robin, poor fellow ! too soon 
 
 Returned to the green budding grove, 
 
 And, clearing his pipe into tune. 
 The pretty rogue 's fall'n into love. 
 
 " In his mate and his little ones blest, 
 
 How merry the warbler will be ! 
 He'll perch near his moss-woven nest, 
 
 And carol a song about me. 
 Next winter when tempests awake. 
 
 He'll peck at yon window in vain, 
 Sweet Robin ! almost for thy sake, 
 
 I shall sigh for my prison again. 
 
 ^^Hark! — shi'ill, and sonorous around, 
 
 The trumpet's dread summons I hear^, 
 Death's voice in the blood chilling sound 
 
 Assaults the pale murderer's ear. 
 What horror must stiflTen his veins! 
 
 At the pomp and the thunder of law, 
 Guilt shudders and clings to his chains; 
 
 E'en innocence trembles with awe. 
 
 " Such mournful reflections as these, ^ 
 
 To agony turned every thought; 
 When lo! at the music of keys 
 
 I start — and a letter is brought ! — 
 O Celia ! how soothing your art ! 
 
 So sweetly pathetic you write. 
 Every syllable steals to the heart. 
 
 And melts it with pensive delight. 
 
 '' The nightingale sitting forlorn, 
 
 Whose music enamours the vale. 
 Leans his breast on the point of the thorn, 
 While telling his eloquent tale. 
 
 * Every morning during the assizes trumpets proclaim the en- 
 trance of the judges. These lines were written on the day when 
 Celia s letter was received, and just at the time when sentence of 
 death had been pronounced upon a murderer, and his wife, in 
 violent fits, was carried by near the window of the writer. 
 
218 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 His feelings this moment are mine, 
 And O ! could I borrow his strain, 
 
 Even bright as my numbers would shine, 
 They would rival your letter in vain. 
 
 " Your beautiful letter, replete 
 
 With elegance, modesty, ease ! 
 Soft graces ! how seldom they meet, 
 
 But oh ! when they meet, how they please ! 
 The charms of your delicate mind, 
 
 So fair in this mirror are shown, — 
 One fault, and one only, I find — 
 
 Dear Celia! why are you unknown? 
 
 " Castle of York, March 7. 1795." 
 
 As the appeal in the concluding line of these verses 
 produced no immediate response, and as Montgomery 
 never afterwards heard anything of this pseudonymous 
 friend, he ultimately inclined to the conclusion that it 
 was some person of his own sex, the import of the sig- 
 nature to the contrary notwithstanding. 
 
 Debating Societies^ ^ as they were called, were very 
 numerous about this period. Their design, when not 
 political, was, that the members should occasionally, or 
 statedly, meet together for the purpose of discussing 
 subjects connected with morality, literature, and science. 
 One of these associations existed at Sheffield, and was 
 denominated, the ^' Society of the Friends of Litera- 
 ture;" of this Montgomery was a member. During 
 his imprisonment they prepared and transmitted an 
 address to him, of which the following is the concluding 
 
 * These societies were soon afterwards suppressed by order of 
 government ; for political topics becoming the subjects of discussion, 
 they were considered as seminaries of disloyalty and sedition : but 
 many of the master-spirits of the multitude received a bias in 
 these meetings, which influenced their good as well as their evil 
 genius through life. 
 
ANSWER TO AN ADDRESS. 219 
 
 paragraph : — ^^ Be assured. Sir, that we esteem you as 
 a brother, torn from us for awhile by the strong hand 
 of the law ; and we anxiously look forward to the time 
 when you shall emerge from your cell, and return to 
 the bosom of your friends. Though that time be but 
 comparatively short, we are w^ell aware that the moments 
 are cheerless and languid which are passed within the 
 dreary confines of a prison. Yet, as an anchor to rest 
 upon, we wish you to keep in mind, that it is better to 
 be sentenced for a supposed crime, and be innocent, 
 than to be acquitted of a real one, and be guilty. God, 
 Truth, and Conscience are for you ; who, then, can 
 be against you ? Your sentence is an eulogy, your 
 prison is a palace." 
 
 This Address was signed by John Pye Smith*, as 
 President of the Society. Montgomery in reply, says : 
 ^^ Gentlemen, I am equally unaccustomed to pay or 
 to receive compliments. Friendship disclaims all idle 
 forms of words, and flowing from the heart, speaks only 
 to the heart ; accept therefore, in one word, my Thanks 
 for the sympathising and cordial address v.hich you 
 have so generously voted to a suffering brother. The 
 approbation of those persons who compose the Society 
 of Friends of Literature would be highly gratifying 
 to the man of sensibility, even in the happiest and 
 brightest periods of his life. To a person like me, 
 languishing in solitude, it yields the most delightful 
 and affecting consolation. Present griefs vanish between 
 the memory of past and the anticipation of future 
 enjoyments 
 
 ^^ The generous and affecting conclusion of your Ad- 
 dress has made a deep impression upon my heart, 
 
 * Afterwards well known and esteemed as a theological tutor 
 and writer. We sliall presently meet with his name again. 
 
220 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERT. 
 
 Whilst you entertain such sentiments of my conduct, 
 I have no reason to complain of my lot, severe as it 
 may seem. I am cheerful, I am happy under it. But 
 oh ! how^ much more happy wdll be the day v^hen I 
 shall again return, if health permit, to your peaceful 
 community, to renew in your society, and with your 
 assistance, the pleasing pursuits of elegant, rational, and 
 moral improvement in the arts that adorn, the sciences 
 that enlighten, and the virtues that enlarge the soul ; 
 pursuits far more congenial to the tenor of my mind 
 than the bustle of public strife, or the dissonance of 
 party politics." 
 
 On the 16th of April, Montgomery was released from 
 his captivity in the Castle of York; and in a few days 
 found himself once more in the bosom of his friends, 
 and filling his editorial situation in Sheffield. Spring 
 was dropping her flowers, and breathing sweets around ; 
 and these new-born delights of the vernal season the 
 poet enjoyed with an exquisite relish at all times — how 
 much more under present circumstances ! A curious mis- 
 take connected with the history of his restoration to per- 
 sonal freedom has been published. In the^^ Table Talk" 
 of William Hazlitt (vol. i. p. 371.) occurs the following 
 passage : — ^^Mr. Montgomery, the ingenious and amiable 
 poet, after he had been shut up in solitary confinement 
 for a year and a half for printing the Duke of Rich- 
 mond's Letter on Reform, when he first walked out in 
 the narrow path of the adjoining field was seized with 
 an apprehension that he should fall over it ; as if he 
 had trod on the brink of an abrupt precipice." Thus far 
 the essayist. ^^ Now," says the poet, in a memorandum 
 with which he favoured us, and afterwards printed, 
 '^ there is not one expression of pure fact in this 
 anecdote, which, nevertheless, was intended to be the 
 truth throughout, believed to be so, and published to 
 
HIS REPLY TO HAZLITT'S STATEMENT. 221 
 
 excite compassion towards the sufferer. 1 never printed 
 the Duke of Richmond's Letter on Reform^ ; I was 
 never shut up for a year and a half in solitary confine- 
 ment ; and I never felt any fear of falling over the edge 
 of a narrow path through a flat field. It might be 
 concluded from the foregoing story that I had been 
 immured in a dark cell, and loaded with chains, till my 
 eye could not bear the- light without giddiness, and my 
 limbs were paralysed for want of exercise. The iron 
 did, indeed, ' enter into my soul,^ but it went no further y 
 • — it never touched my person — the nearest part of a 
 man to himself under some circumstances. It is true 
 that I was twice imprisoned, for three and six months, 
 in the course of ' a year and a half.' Now, during the 
 first term, the room which I occupied overlooked the 
 Castle walls, and gave me ample views of the adjacent 
 country, then passing through the changes of aspect 
 w^hich Nature assumes from the depth and forlornness 
 of winter to the first blooms of a promising spring. 
 From my window I was daily in the habit of marking 
 these, and dwelt with peculiar delight on the well- 
 known walk by the river Ouse, where stood a long 
 range of full-grown trees, beyond which, on the left 
 hand, lay certain pasture fields that led towards- a 
 wooden windmill, propt upon one leg, on a little emi- 
 nence ; and the motion and configuration of whose 
 arms, as the body vs^as occasionally turned about, east, 
 west, north, and south, to meet the wind from every 
 point, proved the source of very humble but very 
 dear pleasure to one with whom it was even as a living 
 
 * In 1794, Daniel Holt, a printer of Newark, was imprisoned 
 two years for republishing a handbill which Mr. Pitt and the Duke 
 of Richmond had printed, advocating a Reform in Parliament. It 
 was evidently some recollection of this transaction which was 
 mixed up in Hazlitt's mind with the case of Montgomery. 
 
222 MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMEEY. 
 
 tiling, — the companion of liis eye and the inspirer of 
 his thoughts, having more than once suggested grave 
 meditations on the vanity of the w^orld, and the flight 
 of time. 
 
 ^^ During such reveries, I often purposed that my 
 first ramble, on recovery of my freedom, should be down 
 by that river, under those trees, across the fields beyond, 
 and away to the windmill. And so it came to pass. 
 One fine morning, in the middle of April, I was 
 liberated. Immediately afterwards I sallied forth, and 
 took my walk in that direction, — from whence, with 
 feelings which none but an emancipated captive can 
 fully understand, I looked hack upon the Castle walls, 
 and to the window of that very chamber from which I 
 had been accustomed to look forward^ both with the 
 eye and with hope, upon the ground w^hich I was now 
 treading, with a spring in my step as though the very 
 soil were elastic under my feet. While I was thus 
 traversing the fields^ not with any apprehension of 
 falling over the verge of the narrow footpath, but from 
 mere wantonness of instinct, in the joy of liberty long 
 wished for, and, though late, come at last, I wilfully 
 diverged from the track, crossing it now to the right, 
 then to the left, like a butterfly fluttering here and 
 there, making a long course and little way, just to 
 prove my legs, that they were no longer under restraint, 
 but might tread ivhere and Jioiv they pleased ; and that 
 I myself was in reality abroad again in the world, — 
 not gazing at a section of landscape over stone walls 
 that might not be scaled ; nor, when, in the Castle* 
 yard, the ponderous gates, or the small wicket, hap- 
 pened to be opened to let in or let out visitors or cap- 
 tives, looking up the street from a particular point 
 which might not be passed. Now to some wise people 
 this may appear very childish, even in such a stripling 
 
ADDRESS TO READERS OF THE ^^ IRIS." 223 
 
 as I then was ; but the feeling was pure and natural ; 
 and the expression innocent and graceful^ as every un- 
 sophisticated emotion and its spontaneous manifest- 
 ation must be ; however much, on cool reflection, a 
 prudent man, with the eyes of all the world upon 
 him, might choose to conceal the one and repress the 
 other. Be this as it may, having once or twice men- 
 tioned the frolic in company, I know not through 
 how many mouths it may have transmigrated before 
 it reached Mr. Hazlitt in the form under which he 
 has presented it." 
 
 On the 23rd of April, the editor of the Iris paid his 
 respects to the public through the medium of that 
 paper. This article is written with admirable temper ; 
 and if the trial itself could or ought to be forgotten by 
 others, doubtless Montgomery would have been tlie last 
 to wish that it should ever be recalled ; and the authors 
 of these pages might have felt equally loth to awake a 
 painful remembrance. It is, however, too prominent 
 and notorious a feature in the early life of Montgomery, 
 , and too indicative of the spirit of the times in which he 
 lived, to be hastily passed over : — ^ 
 
 ^^ After having repeatedly troubled the public upon the 
 subject of my late prosecution, I feel pleasure in the hope, 
 that this may be the last occasion which shall require me to 
 awaken the memory of that event in the minds of the readers 
 of the ' Iris.' I come not forward now to complain of wrongs, 
 of injuries, or of oppression. I do not intend to represent 
 myself as the victim of private malice and private interest. 
 I will not censure the verdict of an English jury. Yet after 
 having severely suffered under the sentence of the law, I 
 can with equal truth and sincerity declare that the weight of 
 my misfortune has not been aggravated by the consciousness 
 of «-uilt. And, although my innocence had remained for 
 ever unknown, or unacknowledged by all the world, yet the 
 
224 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEHY. 
 
 clear conviction of having always endeavoured to act upon 
 honest and liberal principles, vs^ould alone have animated 
 and supported me under deeper afflictions than even those 
 which have lately surrounded me. If, during the period of 
 my punishment, I have passed some melancholy hours; if 
 I have even sometimes, in the bitterness of low spirits, re- 
 pined and murmured at my lot, it was not that the gloom of 
 a prison, or the horrors of solitude, awoke any pangs of re- 
 morse for past offences, or any agonising apprehensions, lest 
 undivulged crimes might yet burst into light, and overwhelm 
 me in confusion and despair ; but all the uneasy sensations 
 I occasionally felt proceeded from the natural infirmities of a 
 weak irritable disposition. Had I been really guilty, a 
 duno;eon would have been a welcome asvlum. There, in 
 silence and darkness, I would have retired to hide my infamy 
 from the world, and, if possible, even from myself. Nay, I 
 would rather have gone down into an untimely grave, than 
 dared again to disturb, with my presence, the peaceful circle 
 of society, from which I have been undeservingly banished. 
 But it was otherwise with me. The generous sympathy of 
 many, very many friends, the prevailing sentiment of the 
 public concerning my conduct, and my misfortune, and the 
 conscious approbation of my own heart rendered my con- 
 finement less irksome, and far more agreeable than I could 
 have expected. As I feel no reason to blush for its cause, I 
 shall never regret my imprisonment. I have no wish to 
 complain of any temporary inconveniences or mortifications 
 to which my late prosecution has exposed me : for even my 
 enemies have triumphed less over my fall than I could have 
 hoped from their former disposition towards me, while the 
 generous indulgence and esteem, however little merited, 
 of the humane and the virtuous, have most abundantly com- 
 pensated for all my sufferings. One solicitude only remains, 
 and while gratitude glows in my heart the solicitude will 
 for ever remain, that I may not prove myself unworthy of 
 that share of public and private kindness which I have 
 experienced in my prison, and which has met me on my 
 return. 
 
 " I now more than ever feel it to be my duty to devote 
 
ADDRESS TO READEKS OF TUE ^^IRIS." 225 
 
 my best abilities, small as they are, to the obedience of my 
 God, and to the service of my friends and my country. My 
 judgment may possibly mislead me, but, while I have no 
 other aim in the exercise of it than to arrive at truths I will 
 not fear any consequences which may follow from pursuing 
 the best dictates of my heart. I am not conscious of being 
 influenced by any of those violent principles which have 
 been imputed to me : on the other hand, I detest the spirit of 
 party wherever it appears. And, whilst I hope I can make 
 reasonable allowances for the prejudices of others, I am 
 determined never to sacrifice to those prejudices, on any 
 side of any question, the independence of my own mind. 
 Whatever some persons may say or think of me, no man is 
 a firmer friend either to his king or his country than 
 myself. But I look upon loyalty and patriotism, to be best 
 evinced by supporting such measures, and such only, as have 
 a tendency to rectify abuses, and to establish the true honour 
 and happiness of Britain on the solid basis of Justice, 
 
 Peace, and Liberty All private resentment and 
 
 animosity, against those who have hitherto been my enemies 
 and persecutors, I have left behind in my prison ; and may 
 they never escape thence ! If I cannot obtain, I will, at 
 least, endeavour to deserve, the public favour. If I fail of 
 success, I shall still console myself with the idea that there 
 has been a time when I not only served but suffered for my 
 
 country. 
 
 "J. Montgomery." 
 
 Finding, we presume^ that it might be dangerous to 
 hold the high tone of an ^* Enthusiast," in which cha- 
 racter some of his friends thought they could occasion- 
 ally perceive a playfully-sketched portrait of the mind 
 of Montgomery himself, he commenced at this period a 
 new series of essays, under the designation of '^ The 
 Whisperer, or Hints and Speculations, by Gabriel Sil- 
 vertongue, Gent.,"* with a motto from Propertius, — 
 
 * '' The 'Whisperer' is at present in the hands of my partner and 
 myself: the first essay was the joint production of both our heads 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
22G MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 ^^ Blandos audire susurros.'^ These lucubrations were 
 afterwards collected by the author^ and published in a 
 volume, '^ By J. Johnson, Saint Paul's Church Yard, 
 London, 1798." We shall here anticipate a little the 
 order of time, to notice a few circumstances connected 
 with the history of this work. 
 
 However interested persons in general are about the 
 secresy supposed to pertain to whispering^ this volume 
 w^as not extensively circulated ; hence, while the ^' Prison 
 Amusements" are frequently to be met with in indiffer- 
 ent hands, these susurrant essays, being of a less popular 
 cast, are not to be found except in the book-cases of a 
 few particular friends of the writer ; nor perhaps would 
 it now be possible to obtain a set at any price. This 
 scarcity, as will appear from the following conversations, 
 originated almost entirely with Montgomery himself. 
 Everett: ^^ Do you think, sir, it is within the reach of 
 possibility to procure a copy of the ^Whisperer?'" 
 Montgomery : ^' I do not think it is; and if I had one, 
 I would not give it to you." Everett: ^^But if a gift 
 be out of the question, could one be purchased?" 
 Montgomery : ^^The work is not, I believe, to be met 
 with at any price, — if it was, I should willingly pay 
 for copies, and burn them. A great buyer of rare and 
 curious books * told me that he had been in quest of a 
 ^Whisperer' for three years, and could not succeed; 
 he at length laid his hand on a mutilated copy, and re- 
 quested me to enable him to supply the deficiencies in 
 his transcript. I told him that as he had procured the 
 
 and hands, and if any future paper should be marked X, it will 
 stand in the same predicament. The third paper, marked S, and 
 all in future signed with any of the letters in Sophron, will be the 
 production of my partner." — Letter to Aston^ June 22. 1795. 
 
 * The late Eev. and Ven. Francis AVrangham, Archdeacon of 
 Cleveland, a true lover of rare books. 
 
CONVERSATION RESPECTING THE ^^ WHISPERER." 227 
 
 greater party and I could not prevent him from retain- 
 ing it, he should have a perfect book ; and I gave him 
 the last I had, with the exception of one which is so 
 blotted, crossed, and otherwise written upon, that 
 should it survive me, which is not likely, nobody will 
 be able to make it out ; and that escaped volume he pos- 
 sesses." Holland: ''\ offered seven shillings for a 
 mutilated copy of the ^ Prison Amusements,' a few 
 days since ; but the owner would not part with it at any 
 price, and much less with a copy of the ^ Whisperer,' 
 which he also showed me." Montgomery: '^ If I have 
 a duplicate of the former I will give it to you. I sent 
 one to Mr. Wrangham." Holland: '^Was the ^Whis- 
 perer' issued from your office^ without your name either 
 as author, printer, or publisher?" Montgomeri) : ^^I only 
 inserted Johnson's name on the title-page, as it was not 
 at that time required by the law that any other should be 
 there. I printed 500 copies." Everett: ^^What became 
 of the bulk of the edition?" Montgomery : ^^ I sent 
 fifty copies to Sir Richard Phillips, for which he never 
 accounted to me ; I suppose they were sold at his 
 bankruptcy : and I disposed of about fifty more in 
 Shefiield." Everett: ^^And what of the remainder?" 
 Montgomery: " I told Miss E. Gales that I would give 
 them to her, if she could dispose of them as waste 
 paper, in any way that might secure their destruction. 
 She sold them to a poulterer to singe fowls with ! And 
 for that purpose," continued he, significantly, " Mrs. 
 D' Amour* said they were admirably adapted, being 
 
 * Her husband, a native of Antwerp, had lived, when young, 
 in service at Gordon Castle, and told a number of anecdotes of 
 the various illustrious personages whom he had seen there. In 
 1836 ''Memoirs of Mr. Matthias D'Amour,'' a volume of 215 
 paf^es, was published at Sheffield, and dedicated to " James Mont- 
 gomery, Esq., the ornament of literature, the patron of humble 
 
 q2 
 
228 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 printed on good writing-paper^ made from linen rags." 
 Holland: ^' That was certainly somewhat in the Caliph 
 Omar's manner of taking vengeance of offensive books." 
 On another occasion, when taking tea with Montgomery, 
 at the house of Mr. T. Branson, solicitor, the subject 
 was again introduced. Holland : '^ I have a copy of 
 the ' Whisperer ' b}^ me, which I am to retain for an 
 indefinite period; and I have been reading to-day the 
 paper entitled the ^ Cottage.^" Montgomery: ^^Doyou 
 mean the ' Siege of the Cottage V I wrote that when 
 I was about nineteen years of age." Holland: ^^ No, 
 sir ; I mean that ' Cottage ' which you have rendered 
 so affecting as containing a death-bed scene." Mont- 
 gomery : *^ I certainly wrote it in what I thought my 
 best manner at that time. The out-door scene is laid 
 in this neighbourhood." Everett: "I have always 
 thought so. My imagination has often identified the 
 landscape on the edge of the moors, about five miles 
 west of Sheffield, with the graphic delineations of your 
 pen in the ^Cottage' story." Here the author's coun- 
 tenance brightened, and his eyes sparkled with pleasing 
 surprise, as though some delightful emotions had been 
 awakened in his breast ; he was evidently glad that the 
 glowing description was sufficiently accurate to be thus 
 realised, and said, ^^ Aye, how came you to know that?" 
 Everett: ^^ You seem scarcely to give me credit for 
 making the discovery; yet who that is w^ell acquainted 
 with the neighbourliood, can help fixing upon the very 
 spot referred to ?" Montgomery : '' Well, that is singu- 
 lar ; and I am glad you have named it. Near the five- 
 mile stone^ in the situation you describe, is certainly 
 
 merit, and the friend of all men ; by his obliged and obedient ser- 
 vants, Matthias D'Amour and Paul Eodgers." The latter, osten- 
 sibly the amanuensis of the worthy ex -poulterer, was really the 
 author of tlie book. 
 
CONVERSATION RESPECTING THE '' WHISPERER." 229 
 
 the identical spot I had in my mind when I wrote that 
 paper." Turning to Mr. Holland, he asked, '' Will 
 you send me that copy of the ^Whisperer' which you 
 possess?" Holland: '^ With pleasure, sir, if you will 
 promise it safe conduct back again." ISlontgomerij : ^'\ 
 will promise you to burn it." Holland : ^' Then I pro- 
 mise you, you shall not have it. Mr. Everett, there, 
 could scarcely forgive Mrs. E. because she objected to 
 copy the whole volume with a pen !" Montgomery : ^'1 
 should hardly have forgiven her if she Jiad done so." 
 Everett : '' I have commenced the work myself." Mont^ 
 gomery : '^ You might be much better employed." Eve- 
 rett : '^ As you once told me that Archdeacon Wrang- 
 ham had two copies, a mutilated and a perfect one, I 
 spoke to the Rev. Francis Hall to endeavour to procure 
 for me the former, and have a faint hope of obtaining it." 
 Montgomery: ^^ You will not succeed. I sent Mr. W. 
 a perfect copy, trusting to his word of honour to burn 
 the other, according to my request ; and he afterwards 
 informed me he had done so.* It is a little remark- 
 able, that, while he was lingering over the fire with the 
 book^ he thought he would compare them ; and fortu- 
 nate it was for him that he did so, for the copy which I 
 gave him wanted two leaves, which the mutilated one 
 contained: these, of course, were reserved." Everett: 
 " In reference to that quarter, then, mine is not barely 
 hope deferred^ but hope destroyed." Montgomery : ^' The 
 
 * " Dear Sir, — You may rely upon my burning the fragment 
 in my possession, unless you would rather, when you come (as per 
 engagement) to visit us next summer, attend the pyre yourself. 
 Pray let the remaining part of the volume be sent by some early 
 opportunity, sealed up : it will reach me (I doubt not) safely. 
 Your oblio-ed and faithful friend, F. Wrangham.— i/wZ^^5 etfelices. 
 — Humanby, Dec. 25. 1820. 
 
 " J. Montgomery, Esq., Sheffield." 
 
230 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 copy which I possess, and the interlineations in which 
 I alone can decipher, I purpose some day to destroy ; 
 but it will probably be one of my last acts, as I wish to 
 keep it a little longer by me, as something might occur 
 which would require a reference to it. My publishers 
 liave often importuned me to furnish them with matter 
 for a volume of prose^ and some of the papers, new 
 modelled, might then be employed. When the 
 * Whisperer ' was written, I was bewildered in a fond- 
 ness for burlesque writing, but I was happily soon saved 
 from it." Holland : '^ You would probably have suc- 
 ceeded in that style if you had cultivated your talent in 
 it." Montgomery: *^ It is at the best a dangerous 
 talent, and success is not often attended with credit." 
 
 It was some time about 1790, that Montgomery began 
 to yield to this disposition to imitate humorous and 
 burlesque authors: taking for his models in verse La 
 Fontaine, and Hall Stevenson the prototype of Peter 
 Pindar. He happily soon returned to the higher and 
 purer walks of poetry, in which he ever afterwards con- 
 tinued ; always speaking with evident disgust of 
 ^^ Crazy Tales, and other abominable productions" 
 by the same hand. He apologised on one occasion 
 at a public meeting, when giving a quotation from the 
 facetious and profane Rabelais, for being thus found in 
 company with the author of '' that strange and inco- 
 herent romance, the ^ History of Gargantua and Pan- 
 tagruel,' — a satire on priests, popes, fools, and knaves.*' 
 Though the playfulness observable in the ^^ Whisperer" 
 did not comport with the gravity of his maturer years, 
 his chief moral objection to it arose from the apparent 
 levity occasionally manifested in the application of 
 texts of Scripture. 
 
 The proprietorship of the ^^Iris," up to July 3rd, 
 1795, had been a co-partnery between James Mont- 
 
DISSOLUTION OF PARTNERSHIP. 231 
 
 gomery and Benjamin Naylor ; a dissolution of which 
 now took place, and devolved the sole responsibility of 
 the paper on the former. The ostensible, and probably, 
 on Naylor's part, the real ground of this early sepa- 
 ration was, that he had fallen in love with and was 
 anxious to marry a young lady, whose friends made 
 their consent conditional on his giving up his con- 
 nection with the ^^Iris." Although it would only have 
 been fair, under ordinary circumstances, for the volur,- 
 tarily outgoing partner to have borne some portion of 
 the losses of the concern, he did not do so in this case. 
 Montgomery, indeed, considered ^that 900/. was more 
 nearly the value of the property at this time than 
 1600/., yet, as the latter sum had been at first paid 
 for it, an engagement was given for the money ; and 
 although the purchaser considered the terms somewhat 
 hard, a few years of industry and prosperity enabled 
 him to liquidate the bond. 
 
 q4 
 
232 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 1795. 
 
 REFORMERS OF 1794 AND 1832. — STATE OF THINGS IN SHEFFIELD AT 
 THE FORMER PERIOD. — RIOT IN THE STREETS, AND FATAL MILITARY 
 INTERFERENCE. — ACCOUNT OF THE AFFAIR IN THE " IRIS." — ANO- 
 NYMOUS SLANDERER. — MONTGOJVIERY CHARGED WITH A LIBEL ON 
 COLONEL ATHORPE. — LETTER TO ASTON. — HYMN ON THE FOUNDA- 
 TION OF CLUB MILL. — CLOSING YEAR's ADDRESS IN THE " IRIS." 
 
 Whatever opinions may be entertained on tlie politics 
 of the period to which our attention has just been 
 directed, or however the part which Montgomery took, 
 or was charged with taking in the movement, may be 
 applauded or condemned, no inference can be more 
 unfair than that which assumes to justify the Reformers 
 of 1794 by the passing of the Reform Bill in 1832. 
 It is evident that mav be remedial in one state of 
 things, which may be destructive in another. And in 
 the body politic, as in the human constitution, a 
 '^ knowledge of the disease" is not more necessary than 
 a consideration of the state of the patient; and the 
 surgeon who should attempt to perform a capital opera- 
 tion in the niidst of high fever, would be at least as 
 guilty of mala pi^axis as he who should lose the life 
 entrusted to him through negligence or timidity. The 
 supplantation of James 11. by William III. in the 
 throne of these realms was, in reality, as it is com- 
 monly called, a '^ Glorious Revolution;" and mercury 
 is, in truth as well as in terms, a ^Mieroic" medicine; 
 
SHEFFIELD IN 1794. 233 
 
 but the former ought no more to be emulated than 
 the latter ought to be ^^ exhibited" in every case. 
 Whether the state doctors of the former or the latter 
 of the above-mentioned periods were most skilful, we 
 need not decide — history has recorded which were most 
 successful. 
 
 That picture of the political state of the town of 
 Sheffield which we have previously attempted to sketch, 
 and which is strikingly portrayed in the '^ State Trials/' 
 was at this time constantly present to the view, and in 
 still more glowing colours to the imaginations, of persons 
 who were the friends of good order in general, as well 
 as those who were officially entrusted with the preser- 
 vation of the peace of the place. Apprehensions of 
 tumult, from the dearness of provisions, the lamentable 
 want of trade, and the irritating presence of the mili- 
 tary, were constantly entertained. ^^ Suspicion, distrust, 
 and hatred, took place for a time of that friendly and 
 unanimous spirit, and that absence of bigotry, religious 
 or political, which in better times had honourably dis- 
 tinguished the inhabitants of Sheffield ; accidental cir- 
 cumstances contributed to inflame political jealousies ; 
 and, on one melancholy occasion, a volunteer corps, 
 which had been raised in the town, were drawn out in 
 the streets, when two of their townsmen were killed by 
 a discharge of musketry." * 
 
 This serious aflair, so aggravating to the social mis- 
 trust, was not likely to pass quietly over; neighbour 
 had hastily shed his neighbour's blood ; and the guilt 
 of this sad affair popular indignation was not slow in 
 charging upon the commanding officer. In this sen- 
 timent, Montgomery, in an article which we shall pre- 
 sently quote, was unfortunately conceived to concur. 
 He had, a few weeks before, when describing the im- 
 
 * Hunter's Hallamshire, p. 128. 
 
234 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 posing military spectacle of a mock engagement on a 
 neighbouring moor, expressed ^^ a fervent wish that 
 every field of action in future may prove as bloodless 
 and innocent as Brinsworth Common ; that our country- 
 men may never find any other use for their weapons, 
 than to brandish them in the sun and fire them in the 
 air, as they did upon this memorable day ; that every 
 battle may be fought in the presence of the ladies ; and 
 that those ladies may feel only such honourable sensa- 
 tions as they felt in beholding this conflict. We feel 
 no prejudice against the military dress, but we cannot 
 help thinking that it is a pity to defile such elegant 
 habiliments with blood." Alas ! that this deprecation of 
 conflict — this prophecy of hope — was not realised ! but 
 that the blood and the lives of their townsmen should 
 ever have tarnished with a stain those weapons which 
 otherwise had been, after twenty years of honourable 
 possession, resigned in their guiltless and maiden lustre 
 to rust and oblivion, when the men who had wielded 
 them ceased to be a regiment! The account of the 
 disturbance alluded to must now be given in Mont- 
 gomery's own words, as it appeared in the ^^Iris" of 
 August 7th : — 
 
 " On Tuesday evening, a disturbance, trifling indeed in its 
 comroencement, but dreadful in its progress, and fatal in its 
 consequences, happened ia this town. The privates of 
 Colonel Cameron's newly raised regiment refused to disperse 
 after the evening exercise. The colonel remonstrated with 
 them upon the impropriety of their conduct, but the men in 
 return complained that part of their bounty-money had been 
 hitherto withheld, and arrears of their pay were due. Of the 
 justice of this complaint we cannot pretend to speak; but 
 in consequence of this circumstance, a number of people 
 assembled in Norfolk Street, and upon the parade. jR. A. 
 Athorpe^ Esq.y Colonel of the Volimteers^ ivho had been 'pre- 
 
ACCOUNT OF THE PJOT IN THE ^^IRIS." 235 
 
 viously orderedto hold themselves iii readiness^ noio appeared 
 at their head^ and^ in a peremptory tone^ commanded the 
 people instantly to disperse^ lohich not being immediately 
 complied with^ a person^ ivho shall be nameless, plunged icith 
 his horse among the unarmed^ defenceless people, andiooiinded 
 with his sword men, women, and children promiscuously. 
 The people murmured, and fell back in confusion. Tlie 
 Riot Act was read. The people ran to and fro, scarcely one 
 in a hundred knowing what was meant by these dreadful 
 measures ; when, an hour being expired, the volunteers fired 
 upon their townsmen with bullets, and killed two persons 
 upon the spot * ; several others were wounded, and the rest 
 fled on every side in consternation. The whole town was 
 alarmed, and continued in a state of agitation all night long. 
 It is our duty to say, that^ during the whole of this bloody 
 business, no violence was committed upon any man's person 
 or property by the people, no symptoms of a riotous disposi- 
 tion were manifested, except by some enraged individuals, 
 who threw a few stones, by which several of the volunteers 
 were bruised." 
 
 On the appearance of this statement, collected, as the 
 facts were, amidst all the consternation and ill-feeling 
 produced by such an event, and published after an 
 interval of only one day, Montgomery was assailed by 
 
 * 
 
 Joe Mather, a coarse local poetaster, and not, it seems, worth 
 a prosecution, thus alluded at the time to the doings of the Colo- 
 nel and his soldiers in this fatal fray : — 
 
 " This armed banditti, filled with spleen, 
 At his command, like bloodhounds keen, 
 In fine, to crown the horrid scene, 
 
 A shower of bullets fired ; 
 The consequence was deep distress, 
 More widows, and more fatherless ; 
 TTie Devil hlush'd, and did confess, 
 'T was viore than he required!'*'' 
 
 We have heard Montgomery advert to the striking sentiment in 
 the last two hues of the stanza. 
 
236 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 a torrent of abuse in the *^ Courant" newspaper for some 
 weeks : the anonymous writer of these scurrilities pro- 
 voked from the Editor of the ^^Iris" more keenness and 
 personal altercation than he ever manifested on any- 
 similar occasion. The truth was, a prosecution for 
 libel was threatened against Montgomery for the pub- 
 lication of the foregoing account : and the person who 
 had the cruelty to taunt him with his imprisonment, 
 and the meanness to shelter, behind an initial, a name 
 not unguessed and an enmity not unfelt by Mont- 
 gomery, was striving by every means in his power to 
 irritate the wound which, however unintentionally, was 
 said to have been inflicted on a military oflicer, acting 
 in his public character. 
 
 Adverting to this afiair several years after, he ob- 
 served, '^ I was looking over the papers the other day, 
 in which the controversy respecting Mr. Athorpe is 
 found. There are many terms employed of which I 
 am now ashamed — though no worse than what my 
 antagonist deserved. I resolved, when I became an 
 editor, never to commence a personal attack, but if I 
 ever should be attacked, to repel it with all my might ; 
 and this I did in that case." Being asked whether he 
 knew who his antagonist was, he replied, ^' He was an 
 Irishman, who signed himself B., but whose proper 
 name was Bible — a name, by the way, of which he was 
 not worthy. He was only a sojourner in Sheffield, and 
 the public knew very little of him. It was apparently 
 to him a matter of astonishment that I had the audacity 
 thus to speak of a magistrate : with this he commenced, 
 and the controversy was kept up four weeks." 
 
 In a letter to Aston, by the hand of Miss Sarah 
 Gales, dated August 13th, Montgomery says, "The 
 truth is, I am at present in a very warm place at Shef- 
 field, and am most furiously threatened with a new pro- 
 
ARKEST OF MONTGOMEEY. 237 
 
 secution for my account of the late horrid disturbance 
 here — a riot it was not: the account in the ^ Iris ' 
 was true, but it was not half the truth : surely a day 
 of terrible retribution will come ! Our paper this week 
 will explain more : pray favour me with a line now and 
 then, and a whisper if you please." 
 
 At length the meditated blow was struck ; a warrant 
 for the apprehension of Montgomery was obtained, and 
 w^hich, strange as it may appear, was suffered to be a 
 month old before it was executed, although he was at 
 home all the time and walked out every day, though he 
 knew an arrest was meditated. On the execution of 
 this warrant, he was held to bail several weeks, before 
 an indictment could be preferred against him at the 
 Quarter Sessions. 
 
 On the 25th of September, Montgomery again ad- 
 verts to this prosecution in a letter to Aston ; adding, 
 ^^ Have you any consolation for me ? Everybody here 
 who dares to speak, exclaims against this malicious and 
 villanous attack, not only upon me, but absolutely 
 upon the liberties of the whole town of Sheffield. 
 What the consequence will be, I presume not to an- 
 ticipate — but believing, expecting the worst, I would 
 not exchange all the sufferings and sorrow, to which 
 an iniquitous sentence may doom me, for one hour's 
 feelings of my miserable prosecutor. . . Farewell ! 
 may you never feel, except by sympathy, the sufferings, 
 the distress, the agonies of your unfortunate, but most 
 sincere friend." 
 
 When Montgomery appeared before the magistrates 
 at the Cutlers' Hall, the Rev. James Wilkinson, vicar 
 of Sheffield and one of the justices on the bench, asked 
 him if he had anything to say against the charge spe- 
 cified in tlie warrant? He replied, '' Before I answer 
 that, or any other question, I must take the liberty to 
 
238 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 ask whether Colonel Athorpe be determined to proceed 
 to the extremities of the law ; or whether he will meet 
 me upon terms of explanation? if he can prove that I 
 have injured him^ I am willing to make any apology 
 consistent with truth and my own character/' Mr. 
 Athorpe, who was present, answered, ^^ No, Sir; I will 
 prosecute you." 
 
 When he found that nothing but legal proceedings 
 would satisfy the prosecutor, he requested Mr. Wil- 
 kinson to bind him over to appear at the County As- 
 sizes, instead of the Quarter Sessions. This request, 
 however, was refused. Pursuant therefore to his re- 
 cognisances, he appeared at Barnsley Sessions, Oct, 14., 
 when a bill was found against him by the grand jury, 
 for *^a false, scandalous, and malicious libel on the 
 character of R. A. Athorpe, Esq., a military magistrate," 
 &c. The words indicted as libellous are those which 
 we have printed in italics in the foregoing account of 
 the disturbance at Sheffield ; and the '' nameless per- 
 son" was construed to mean the commanding officer, 
 and who instituted the prosecution on this ground. 
 Pending the issue of the trial, much malicious ingenuity 
 was exercised to prove and aggravate this fact, on the 
 denial of which the defendant never intended to rest 
 the merit of his defence. 
 
 Montgomery, in conformity with legal advice, had 
 determined to remove this suit into the Court of 
 King's Bench, by a writ of certiorari. Immediately 
 the most malicious calumnies were industriously cir- 
 culated by his enemies, concerning his conduct and 
 expressions at the Cutlers' Hall. It was given out, 
 and believed by many persons whose situations in life 
 ought to have raised them above the meanness of either 
 believing or being influenced by such a report, that 
 '^ he had refused to be tried by a jury of his country- 
 
LETTER TO ASTOX. 239 
 
 men," This^ and another report equally unfounded, 
 that ^^ he durst not suffer himself to be tried on the 
 verdict of his neighbours, and in a place where he was 
 known," influenced him to change his first determina- 
 tion. He therefore only traversed the indictment to 
 Doncaster Sessions. 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 "Sheffield, Oct. 24. 1795. 
 
 " Dear Friend, 
 
 ''I purposely delayed writing to you till Banisley 
 Sessions were passed, at which, as was expected, a bill was 
 preferred and found against me for that part only of my 
 paragraph where I notice the behaviour of a nameless 
 person, riding among the people, previous to the reading of 
 the Riot Act. In the warrant to apprehend me, I was 
 charged with having printed and pubhshed ' a gross mis- 
 representation of all that happened ' on that fatal evening ; 
 and further, that my account was ' likely to stir up conmio- 
 tions among the people and disturb the peace of the town.' 
 This charge, as ridiculous as false, has been entirely dropped, 
 and the whole has been cut down into a miserable charge of 
 a libel on the character of our redoubtable military magis- 
 trate^ — witljout one syllable about sedition in the whole in- 
 dictment. 
 
 " It was both prudent and politic in my adversaries to drop 
 the most serious part of this accusation ; for a friend of mine 
 had been arrested and bound over to Barnsley Sessions, for 
 affirming in the public streets, and in the presence of the 
 justices themselves, that the men shot were murdered — they 
 did not think proper even to prefer a bill agaiiist him ! Is 
 there one word in my whole paragraph which conveys so 
 severe a censure on the hero of that evening ? No ; but 
 my friend is a vendor of stockings*, and I a vendor of news- 
 papers : the prosecution is levelled against the ^Iris/ — they 
 are determined to crush it 
 
 * Luke Palfreyman. We have already intimated that he did 
 not escape prosecution. 
 
240 MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 N 
 
 " My friends at Sheffield all insist upon my going to York 
 [i.^.5 removing tUe indictment by writ of certiorari thither 
 for trial], and have promised to assist me as far as lies in 
 their power. The whole expenses of my last trial amounted 
 to ninety pounds. My friends made me a present of sixty 
 pounds towards it, and I am thirty pounds out of pocket, 
 besides all the vexation and misery I suffered. 
 
 " This shall not discourage me ; since I am compelled to 
 meet danger, I will face it like a man — an innocent man, 
 whom a verdict of an ignorant jury may condemn, but can- 
 not make guilt?/ .... 
 
 ^' Be assured, that wherever I am, in bonds or at liberty, 
 I shall remain unalterably your sincere and grateful friend, 
 
 " J. M. G. . 
 
 ** Mr. Joseph Aston, Manchester." 
 
 The publication, in the ^^ Iris/' of a complimentary 
 sonnet addressed to Mr. Vaughan on the late trials by 
 Barbara Wreaks*, was the commencement of Mont- 
 gomery's friendship with a pleasing local poetess, w^ho 
 often afterwards became his correspondent, and ulti- 
 mately pursued the precarious profession of authorship. 
 Along with the Misses Gales he also visited William 
 Newton of Cressbrook, near Tideswell, who, as well be- 
 fore as after this year, sent communications in rhyme 
 to the newspaper ; and the writer of this paragraph re- 
 collects once making a sort of pilgrimage to see the 
 ^^ Minstrel of the Peak," as he is called by Anna Seward 
 in an original letter now before us. He was then an 
 old man, very active, with a head of long white hair 
 streaming in the mountain breeze, like that of a bard in 
 Ossian. He died, Nov, 3. 1830, in his eightieth year.f 
 
 * Afterwards Mrs. Hofland. 
 
 •j- In the house of his son, Mr. William Newton, at Lytton, near 
 Cressbrook, there is a capital likeness of the " Minstrel of the 
 Peak," accompanied by those of his wife and her sister — " Aunt 
 Nancy," as she was fondly called, for her kind offices to every one 
 
CLOSING year's ADDRESS IN THE ^^ IRIS/* 241 
 
 Amidst Montgomery's anxieties arising from political 
 strife, he did not entirely forget his devotion to the 
 Muses ; but the evidence of this fact consists only in 
 the production of some short and fugitive pieces. 
 Though often far differently employed at present, the 
 scenes and circumstances of his boyhood, when in 
 simplicity and purity he trilled his earliest lay in 
 imitation of ^^ Spiritual Songs," sometimes came freshly 
 to his mind with their Scripture terms and ima- 
 gery. The following are three of the middle verses 
 of a ^'Hymn, on occasion of laying the foundation- 
 stone of a corn mill near Sheffield, to be erected 
 for the purpose of supplying the members of forty 
 sick clubs with flour and meal at reasonable prices, 
 Nov. 5. 1795." 
 
 ^' Will He who hears the raven cry 
 Reject our prayers, and bid us die? 
 Will He refuse his help to yield. 
 Who clothes the lilies of the field ? 
 
 " Pale Famine lifts, at his command, 
 Her withering arm, and blasts the land ; 
 Death stalks behind, her lingering slave, 
 And sinks in every step a grave. 
 
 " But when He smiles, the desert blooms ; 
 New life is born among the tombs ; 
 O'er the glad plains abundance teems. 
 And plenty rolls in bounteous streams." 
 
 We shall not weaken, by any remarks of our own, 
 the effect of the following reflections, with which the 
 
 requiring womanly sympathy in the neighbourhood of Tideswell. 
 ( Vide Rhodes's '' Peak Scenery," and Holland's " Memorials of 
 Chantrey.") 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
242 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 editor of the '' Iris " took his leave of this eventful 
 year: — 
 
 
 ^^At the period of one year, and the commencement of 
 another, we naturally pause, look round, and contemplate 
 our situation. While memory calls up the shadows of past 
 events, fancy, with equal solicitude, presents the airy visions 
 of futurity. If between the recollection of scenes behind, 
 and the fond anticipation of prospects before us, we fre- 
 quently lose the relish for present enjoyments, by the same 
 delusion we may occasionally deceive our sorrows, smile by 
 stealth, and dream of hope in the lap of despair. On this 
 last day of the most trying year of my life, the readers of 
 the ^Iris' will pardon the egotism of a few remarks which 
 my own situation and the present melancholy condition of 
 our common country seem to justify. 
 
 " It is an indispensable duty, incumbent on every man, to 
 promote, to the extent of his abilities^ the welfare of that 
 community of which he consents to become a member. Im- 
 pressed with a solemn sense of this sacred obligation, I ven- 
 tured, though with trembling reluctance, in times the most 
 inauspicious, under circumstances the most discouraging, to 
 step into the post of danger, which my abler predecessor had 
 been compelled to relinquish. The ^Iris' was planted 
 amono- the thorns which had choked the ^Register.' No 
 young man ever embarked in life with fewer hopes or greater 
 fears ; it was my misfortune to inherit all the difficulties 
 which had encompassed my predecessor, with a very hum- 
 ble portion of his talents, his fortitude, or his experience. 
 His enemies felt no reluctance in transferring that resent- 
 ment which he had escaped to his successor ; but it was 
 very uncertain whether my conduct would secure to me the 
 countenance of his friends. Deeply conscious of these dis- 
 advantages, sensible of my own weakness, and but too well 
 aware with what a tide of passion and prejudice I had to 
 contend, I ventured nevertheless, like Noah's Dove, to quit 
 the ark of private security, and wander over the ocean of 
 public strife, hoping the storms of faction might sometime 
 
CLOSING year's ADDRESS IN THE ^' IRIS." 243 
 
 cease, and the waters of discord subside. Hitherto I have 
 endeavoured, to the full extent of my limited abilities, and 
 to the best of my knowledge, faithfully to discharge my 
 duty to my country, to my conscience, and to my God. If 
 the ^Iris' has met with the most distinguished patronage from 
 a liberal public, I am ready to acknowledge that their indul- 
 gence has overlooked many imperfections, and rewarded its 
 editor rather for the sincerity of his intentions than for the 
 merit of his performances. On the other hand, I am proud 
 to state that I owe nothing to the tender mercies of my 
 enemies. 
 
 " If I have occasionally been deceived into errors, I have 
 never designedly misled the public. If the enthusiasm of 
 a warm and zealous heart has sometimes betrayed me into 
 violence of expression, I have never wilfully concealed or 
 exaggerated truth. I may have transgressed the doubtful 
 bounds of prudence, but I have never broke through the 
 barriers of justice. I have reprobated abuses in Church 
 and State, and while abuses exist, I trust I shall never want 
 courage to censure them; but the sanctity of religion has 
 never been violated, the principles of the constitution have 
 never been vilified in the ' Iris.' If there exist one human 
 being so free from prejudice, so pure from blemish, that he 
 never judges wrong nor acts amiss, let him punish me for 
 every fault which the weakness of my head, or the folly of 
 my heart, may have led me into ; but while infirmities rather 
 than excellencies are the characteristics of humanity, I may 
 claim that indulgence towards my errors which ought to be 
 equally extended to all mankind ; for the best as well as the 
 worst are always in need of it. If God were as unforgiving 
 as man, the world would be a den of despair." 
 
 We have given the foregoing extract less as a speci- 
 men of the writer's style than as exhibiting his views 
 and feelings at this trying crisis: nor are his literary 
 claims difficult to appreciate. The columns of the 
 ^^Iris" were at this time almost the only channel 
 through which the current of his imagination meandered. 
 
 R 2 
 
244 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 It had not yet overflowed its banks^ nor spread itself 
 into those innumerable streams of beauty, fertility, 
 and variety, which afterwards diversified so richly the 
 literature of the age ; and in the pursuit and delinea- 
 tion of which the biographers of Montgomery have 
 before them a difficult, but delightful, labour. 
 
245 
 
 CHAR XIX. 
 1796. 
 
 SEDITION AND TREASON BILLS. — LETTER TO ASTON. — SECOND TRIAL 
 AT DONCASTER. SENTENCED TO FINE, AND IIMPRISONMENT IN YORK 
 
 CASTLE. — Montgomery's address to the public. — letters to 
 
 ASTON AND J. P. SMITH. COLERIDGE VISITS SHEFFIELD. RELEASE 
 
 FROM PRISON. LETTERS. 
 
 The preceding year had closed with the passing, and 
 the present one opened with the operation, of ^^ an act 
 for the safety and preservation of his Majesty's person 
 and government against treasonable and seditions prac- 
 tices and attempts," which excited vehement altercation 
 among politicians. Of course, while this bill and one 
 ^' for preventing seditious meetings " were in progress, 
 the Editor of the *^lris" spoke of them with disap- 
 probation, printing the first-named with a deep mourn-- 
 ing border — more safe, perhaps more significant, than 
 words, with a man awaiting his trial for libel. It seems, 
 however, that while some of his readers charged him 
 with ^' unbecoming heat and violence," others com- 
 plained of his '' lukewarmness.'' To both he replies : 
 — "As friends of freedom and the constitution of our 
 country, we do not hesitate for a moment to declare 
 that, after weighing in our minds the arguments on 
 both sides of this great political question, we feel, as 
 yet, unconvinced of the absolute necessity of such 
 measures ; but, on the other hand^ as friends to the 
 peace and happiness of society, we must always recom- 
 
 R 3 
 
246 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 mend a respectful submission to the laws of which these 
 hills are now become a part." 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 " Sheffield, Jan- 2. 1795[6]. 
 ^' My dear Friend, 
 
 " I write to you at this moment under the impression of 
 very melancholy feelings. After having obtained the advice 
 of Mr. Vaughan respecting my prosecution, and after weigh- 
 ing all the advantages of removing the cause to York against 
 the enormous expense and even uncertain chance of getting 
 justice there, I feel myself inclined to hazard the trial at 
 Doncaster — the very name of which makes the blood run 
 cold to my heart. In the course of three weeks I must 
 return to my dismal den in the Castle of York — the sessions 
 being on the 20th instant .... Nothing in this case hurts — 
 nay absolutely stabs — the peace of my mind so much, as that 
 I shall not be permitted to prove the facts stated in the ^Iris/ 
 It is impossible to foresee what sort of charges they may 
 bring against me, since my hands are tied up from repelling 
 them by evidence ; and if I be cast without proving the 
 facts, I dare not afterwards state them to the public. Thus 
 heaven only knows how completely guilty I shall appear in 
 the eyes of all the kingdom, except the inhabitants of Shef- 
 Held, who, I am sure, to a man, in their own minds, acquit 
 me, though too many of them will not dare to do otherwise 
 than condemn me in public. You may judge of my broken 
 and desponding spirits by the melancholy address I have 
 published this week in the ' Iris.* I have not a heart of 
 steel: I was made of more frail materials — I shall soon 
 crumble to dust. 
 
 " The expenses of a trial at Doncaster wnll be nearly the 
 same as at York, as I must retain special counsel. I think 
 of Mr. Vaughan, to ^vhom I gave a fee of thirty guineas 
 last January; but if I be convicted [at Doncaster sessions], 
 I shall not have to pay the costs of the prosecutor, which I 
 should have to do were I to remove the trial by certiorari 
 to York [assizes]. My friends have determined to lend me 
 
TBIAL FOR LIBEL. 247 
 
 some assistance ; and since you had the kindness to propose 
 to use your interest with a few friends in Manchester on my 
 behalf, it would be false delicacy and unworthy shame, if I 
 
 declined it May I be permitted to write to you from 
 
 York? The ^Whisperer' is dead; when I have leisure I 
 mean to raise him again to life. The world, I perceive, is 
 as mad at Manchester as ever. 
 
 " I am, dear Sir, with sincere respect, 
 ! " Yours, much obliged^ 
 
 " J. M. G. 
 
 ** Mr. Joseph Aston, Manchester." 
 
 The trial of ^^ James Montgomery for a libel against 
 R. A. Athorpe, Esq.," came on at Doncaster Sessions, 
 Jan. 21. 1796. Uninteresting as the account of this 
 trial may possibly prove, we shall give so much of the 
 evidence as may be consistent with perspicuity and 
 brevity. 
 
 The Justices were M. A. Taylor, Esq., Chairman, 
 the Right Hon. Lord Hawke, Bacon Frank, Esq., the 
 Rev. James Wilkinson, and the Rev. James Stovin. 
 Counsel for the prosecution, Mr. Heywood, Mr. France; 
 for the defendant, Mr. Vaughan, Mr. Markham. 
 
 Mr. France having stated the heads of the indictment, 
 Mr. Heywood addressed the jury on behalf of the pro- 
 secution. He observed, that this was a private, not a 
 public case ; it involved in it no political speculations. 
 The rights of man and the liberty of the press were 
 foreign to the present question. The defendant, he 
 was sure, had no cause to complain of the want of the 
 privilege to libel administration; for the ^^Iris" had 
 long been the vehicle of abuse upon the Government 
 of this country. Therefore, laying aside all political 
 considerations, it was the duty of the jury to weigh 
 well the nature and tendency of the libel before them, 
 every syllable of which he declared to be a base 
 
 K 4 
 
248 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 calumny, a false^ a scandalous, and a malicious lie, 
 forged for the express purpose of injuring and dis- 
 gracing in the eyes of the public the respectable 
 person against whom it was levelled. Wherever Mr. 
 Athorpe was known, it would not be believed ; but as 
 the '' Iris " was circulated in various parts of the king- 
 dom where Mr. Athorpe was not known, it was neces- 
 sary to confute the falsehood and punish the libeller. 
 Mr. Heywood entered here into a detail of the circum- 
 stances, which he stated nearly in the same manner as 
 the prosecutor and his evidence afterwards gave them, 
 except that no proof was produced of the publication 
 or even the circulation of a seditious handbill^ which 
 Mr. Heywood asserted had been distributed with great 
 industry on the day when the riot happened, and cal- 
 culated to inflame and incense the mind of the people.* 
 He then compared his own narrative with the account 
 published in the ^' Iris," and declared that if the latter 
 were true, the unfortunate persons who were killed on 
 tliat occasion were murdered. As for the persons pre- 
 tended to luive been wounded by Mr. Athorpe (for he 
 would prove him to be the '^ nameless person"), nobody 
 was hurt or injured in any degree, except the men who 
 were killed, and the Volunteers who were bruised by 
 
 * Much stress was laid upon this handbill, both before and 
 during the trial. Montgomery afterwards observes : '* I have 
 more than once questioned the legitimacy of this strange abortion 
 of a distempered brain ; and I confess I was exceedingly disap- 
 pointed, when, after what Mr. Heywood had observed to my jury, 
 no register of the birth, no evidence even of the existence of this 
 child of chance was attempted to' be produced. This I thought 
 the more extraordinary, because a copy of this pretended bill, dis- 
 played with all the elegant ingenuity of typographical taste, appeared 
 in several London papers, in an account of the disturbance avowedly 
 published by authority in answer to the 'Iris,' and said to have been 
 taken from the oaths of icitnesses before the coroner's inquest. A 
 comment is unnecessary. The text is clear." 
 
TETAL FOR LIBEL. 249 
 
 stones thrown at them by the mob. The observation 
 in the ^^ Iris/' respecting the wives and children of the 
 deceased, was as false as the rest of the libel : for 
 the one had no wife, and if the other had, it was 
 unknown.* 
 
 Mr. Heywood then called his witnesses, the principal 
 of whom was Mr. Athorpe himselff , who, being sworn, 
 said that he was a magistrate of the West Riding of 
 Yorkshire, and also an officer (lieutenant-colonel) of 
 the Sheffield Volunteers. On the 4th of August last he 
 dined with Earl Fitzwilliam at Wentworth House. At 
 dinner he w^as called out, and Captain Leader delivered 
 a request from the officers of the Volunteers to go and 
 protect the peace of the town of Sheffield. On his 
 arrival, he dressed himself in his regimentals, and rode 
 up Norfolk Street, which he found to be full of people, 
 as any body would conceive in a riot. He entered the 
 Parade by the narrow door, the great gate being closed; 
 as he rode in, he heard some person hooting and hiss- 
 ing, and calling him by abusive names, upon which he 
 
 * The wife of one of the men killed on this occasion was begging 
 at Sheffield for the support of herself and six small children, at 
 the time when the above assertion was made ! 
 
 I Montgomery was not only surprised, but alarmed, to see 
 Athorpe thus brought forward as a witness in his own cause, and 
 to hear him swear that he did not cut any person with his sword; 
 and this at the time a woman was allowed to exhibit in court the 
 scar of a wound on her arm, which she swore was given by the 
 sword of the plaintiff! The defendant, who was permitted to sit 
 by and converse with his counsel during the trial, immediately 
 turned to Mr. Vaughan, and whispered with apprehension, " Why, 
 they will, in the next place, indict my witnesses for perjury!" 
 *' You need not fear that,'' was the reply, " they have enough on 
 their hands already." As to the reality and source of the wound 
 on the woman's arm, there was, in fact, no doubt : on the other 
 hand, it is possible, from the peculiar agitation of the colonel at 
 the time (as testified by almost every person present), that he 
 m'u'ht be unconscious of the occurrence himself. 
 
250 MEMOIES or JAMES MONTGOMEEY. 
 
 exclaimed, " For God's sake^ gentlemen, what are you 
 all about ?" Hereupon, a young man in a red jacket 
 started up, and, pointing towards Colonel Cameron, 
 exclaimed, " Seize him, kill him ! " or something to 
 that purport. Mr. Athorpe ordered the man to be 
 apprehended ; he was seized, but broke loose. Mr. 
 Athorpe then drew his sword and brandished it about, 
 in defence of his horse's head and bridle, as he pursued 
 the man, who at length fell down over another man, 
 and he could have killed him if he would. Mr. Athorpe 
 stopped his horse, lest he should trample upon him. 
 He walked with his horse to the gateway ; could get 
 no further; and said, ^^ Send for the Volunteers." 
 Somebody said, '' Colonel, take care of yourself." He 
 then saw a company of the Volunteers drawn up by 
 the gate. The concourse of people followed him into 
 the street. Upon this, he thought it necessary to read 
 the proclamation in the Hiot Act, which he always had 
 carried written on a card in his pocket, since the riots 
 in Sheffield a few years ago, to be ready upon all occa- 
 sions. As he had changed his clothes for his uniform, 
 when he entered the town, he forgot to take it out of 
 his pocket ; he was therefore obliged to send for it. 
 Having read the proclamation, he remonstrated with 
 the people, particularly those who seemed to have come 
 only from curiosity, and told them of the penalties 
 they would incur if they remained longer together. 
 An hour and ten minutes expired, when some stones 
 were thrown, by which two Volunteers were bruised 
 very much. The Volunteers were ordered to fire, 
 and two persons were killed ; but he had never heard 
 that any body else was wounded, though he had sent 
 round to inquire of all the surgeons in the town. He 
 believed that '^ nameless person '^ in the paragraph 
 alluded to himself. He said, as his counsel closed his 
 
FOUND GUILTY OF LIBEL. 251 
 
 examination^ ^^ I never touched any one person with 
 my sword, directly or indirectly, upon my oath." 
 
 Two other witnesses having been examined, the 
 evidence for the prosecution closed ; when 
 
 Mr. Vaughan rose on the part of the defendant, 
 and addressed the court and the jury in a speech of 
 considerable length, which was delivered with the most 
 impressive energy, and heard, notwithstanding frequent 
 interruptions from the gentlemen on the bench, with 
 the most profound attention. ^^ This speech," observes 
 one who heard it delivered, ^^for strength of reasoning, 
 ingenuity of thought, and elegance of diction, has sel- 
 dom been paralleled in any court of justice." A sketcli 
 of this speech is before us, and justifies, to some extent, 
 this eulogium. 
 
 Witnesses were now called and examined by the de- 
 fendant's counsel, two of whom swore that they had 
 received wounds from the prosecutor's sword ; one of 
 these showed the scar of a wound upon her arm in court ; 
 the other witnesses deposed to the manner in which 
 the colonel brandished his sword amongst the crowd. 
 
 Mr. Hey wood having shortly replied to Mr. Vaughan, 
 M. A. Taylor, Esq., the chairman, summed up, and 
 delivered a charge to the jury, at the conclusion of 
 which he read the whole paragraph containing the 
 libel, and commented on each part, observing that the 
 whole consequences were laid upon the nameless person. 
 He told the jury they were not to decide on the cha- 
 racter of Mr. Athorpe, but upon the intention of the 
 defendant, towards whom, if they had a doubt upon 
 their minds, they ought to lean. 
 
 The jury, after retiring about a quarter of an hour„ 
 brought in a verdict of ^^ Guilty." 
 
 Mr. Vaughan, in an eloquent speech, moved for an 
 arrest of judgment ; but this motion was overruled by 
 
252 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 the court, and the following sentence was pronounced : 
 — That James Montgomery be imprisoned for the term 
 of six months in the Castle of York ; that he pay a fine 
 of thirty pounds to the king ; and that he give security 
 for his good behaviour for two years, himself in a bond 
 of two hundred pounds, and two sureties in fifty pounds 
 each. 
 
 He was immediately taken into custody, and con- 
 veyed to York ; and again immured in the solitude of 
 a prison, with a mind lacerated by the consciousness of 
 its injuries, and a body feeble and debilitated. A little 
 incident connected with this event may be here men- 
 tioned. The gaoler in whose charge Montgomery was 
 placed accompanied him to York with the least possible 
 demonstration of oflEiciality by the way ; and on reaching 
 the city, where he was known, he parted from his pri- 
 soner, half-a-street's length, telling him to go first, 
 knock at the castle gate, and get admitted before he 
 (the gaoler) came up ! This second confinement was 
 rendered not only supportable, but comfortable, so 
 far as that word can have any signification as applied 
 to the economy of a prison ; air, exercise, cleanliness, 
 and attention, in the utmost degree of their consistency 
 with actual incarceration, he was permitted to enjoy. 
 The magistrates, previous to quitting the bench at Don- 
 caster, in consideration of the precarious state of his 
 health, were pleased to order that every facility should 
 be aflforded for the introduction of whatever might re- 
 store his health or alleviate the necessary evils of his 
 confinement ; and, but for this indulgence, there is 
 reason to believe that , the sentence of imprisonment 
 would have gipyed to the suflTerer a sentence of death. 
 
 January oOth, Montgomery addressed the public on 
 the subject of this prosecution, as he had done on the 
 preceding one daring the corresponding month of the 
 
ADDRESS TO THE PUBLIC. 253 
 
 previous year, from ^^ the Castle of York." As he 
 must have been the best judge of his own intentions 
 and feelings, we shall make no remarks, but allow him 
 to speak for himself in an extract rather long, but the 
 length of which we think the facts and reflections and 
 its own importance will justify. 
 
 " ^ Strike — but hear me ! ' 
 
 " In appearing before the public, after having been a se- 
 cond time pronounced guilty of a misdemeanor by the 
 verdict of an English jury, I feel all the difficulties of my 
 situation rushing upon me. If I speak with boldness, I 
 shall be censured for presumption ; diffidence may be con- 
 strued into a symptom, but silence would be considered a 
 proof, of guilt. The first ferment of spirit which naturally 
 follows any sudden shock of misfortune being now hushed 
 into a calm resignation, I will endeavour, and with a degree 
 of confidence which a strong sense of the duty I owe to my 
 conscience and to my character alone could inspire, to ex- 
 press my sentiments on the subject of my late trial with 
 the same coolness and candour as I desire to be heard . . 
 
 " On the trial, it was laid down as the law of the land, 
 that the truth or falsehood of a libel were equally imma- 
 terial, except as they went to prove the intention of the 
 publisher to be innocent or criminal. Both the counsel for 
 the prosecution and the chairman on the bench, in their 
 addresses to the jury, declared that, if the facts stated in 
 my account had been true to the extent, the prosecutor 
 ought to have stood at the bar in my room. If I make it 
 appear that, from what seemed to be the strongest and most 
 pointed evidence, — the evidence of facts, — I had every reason 
 to believe the account I gave to be literally true, is it any 
 proof of criminal intention that I published, in a paper, 
 which necessarily comprehended the news of the day, a 
 detail of certain circumstances which were apparently ille- 
 gal ? On the melancholy 4th of August, and even till 
 within a few days of my trial, the witnesses (one excepted) 
 who came forward to identify what they had seen and what 
 
254 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 they had suffered, were equally strangers to each other and 
 strangers to me. The facts had been previously attested to 
 me by many creditable and intelligent persons, who, from 
 the mouths of one or other of these witnesses, had learned 
 the account of the wounds they received, and the blood 
 which had stained their clothes; and the general circum- 
 stances were confirmed to me upon the most positive and 
 unequivocal testimony of various spectators of the trans- 
 actions on the Parade, and in Norfolk Street. If I had 
 not been fully convinced of the truth of my account, my 
 enemies themselves will not believe that I would have 
 dared to publish it. Malice is too subtle and suspicious to 
 hazard much ; but a warm, imprudent zeal for truth seldom 
 discovers dangers till it becomes entangled in a snare. Would 
 it ever have entered into the conception of any man, un- 
 practised in deceit, unhabituated to treachery, to believe, 
 that four persons, of fair characters, and strangers to each 
 other, in the same hour, on the same spot of ground, with- 
 out any previous concert or knowledge of each other's 
 intentions, should each forge a distinct, deliberate, and con- 
 sistent falsehood, and without any hope of reward, except 
 the amusement of cheating, wilfully and wickedly impose 
 upon their relatives, their friends, and the public ; nay, even 
 exhibit their wounds, and show the blood sprinkled upon 
 their clothes, as evidence of the facts? Had such a mon- 
 strous supposition been suggested to me before my late trial, 
 I should not have hesitated to pronounce it a libel upon 
 human nature, as impossible as it was absurd. But when I 
 consider the solemn and repeated asseverations of the prose- 
 cutor ; when I w^eigh the credit due to his character as a 
 magistrate, his honour as an officer, and his fortune as a 
 gentleman, I declare with a sincerity which I hope will 
 never be suspected, that what I have hitherto considered as 
 a moral impossibility, I shall in future regard as a paradox. 
 But admitting these poor persons were no willing impostors, 
 but only mistaken concerning what they believed they had 
 seen and felt, might not a fanciful imagination amuse itself 
 with the idea that deception may sometimes approach so 
 
LETTER TO MR. J. P. SMITH. 255 
 
 near to reality that a person may be bruised without being 
 touched, and bleed without being wounded ? These remarks 
 may be censured as impertinent ; but they rise from the 
 subject, and, I presume, every reader of the trial has anti- 
 cipated them in his own mind. The hundreds of Sheffield 
 who were spectators of the scenes described in the ' Iris ' of 
 the 7th of August, must judge how far I was myself 
 imposed upon, and how far I wilfully misrepresented what 
 happened. If I had published the monstrous reports of the 
 moment, I should indeed have been guilty of the most cruel 
 injustice towards my prosecutor, and richly have merited 
 the punishment which I am now suffering; but when I 
 recollect the number and plausibility of those dreadful ru- 
 mours, I am astonished at having steered so clear of them. 
 It would have been a proof of more than human sagacity to 
 have published, under such disadvantages, and in a moment 
 of universal consternation, an account perfectly free from 
 error. To such correctness I make no pretensions : all I 
 maintain amounts only to this, that I solemnly believed my 
 general statement to be true ; and, till I understood the re- 
 verse from the prosecutor himself upon my trial, I never 
 had any reason to believe it otherwise. Whether, upon the 
 strength of his sole testimony, I ought now publicly to recant 
 and declare the whole account false^ I humbly leave to the 
 good sense of an unprejudiced public to determine for me.'' 
 
 Of the nature of his employment during this second 
 incarceration, we have various evidence ; of which not 
 the least interesting is that comprised in his corre- 
 spondence with friends. Of these, the first place is due 
 to Mr. J. Pye Smith, before named, who generously and 
 judiciously undertook the management of the news- 
 paper and the printing-office, on behalf of his friend. 
 
 " Jan. 23. My dear Friend — You have now stepped into 
 my place, and you will not long be there before the anxieties 
 and vexations attendant on the discharge of my painful 
 public duty will begin to harass you." — J. M. to J. P. S. 
 
256 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 " Jan. 30. I am exceedingly glad to find you take so 
 tender and active a concern in my welfare at home. Give 
 my best respects to all the men, and tell them I rely much 
 on their diligence and friendship." — J. M. to J. P. S. 
 
 '' Feb. 13. I have little room to spare to make any fur- 
 ther observations respecting the ' Iris :^ be firm, cool, and 
 moderate ; you never can sink into dulness, if I estimate 
 your talents aright. But beware of being hurried away by 
 generous indignation, impruderit zeal for truth^ or the dread 
 of censure from any party T^ — Ibid. 
 
 Still more interesting are the letters to his Man- 
 chester correspondent. 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 "Castle of York, Feb. 3. 1796. 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " Ere now you have read my trial, and know my fate. 
 Will you (though our personal knowledge of each other 
 is small) believe me capable of publishing a wilful and 
 malicious falsehood, which, immediately on its appearance, 
 would subject me to all the vengeance of the law; and then, 
 to support it and screen myself from justice, can you believe 
 that I could corrupt and suborn persons of fair and honest 
 character to come forward as perjured witnesses in my be- 
 half? Unless you imagine this, I know, \feel your opinion: 
 if I be really guilty, my defence must make me the blackest, 
 the most execrable monster that ever dared to insult the 
 laws of Nature and of God, ... I have placed the News- 
 paper during my absence in the hands of an ingenious 
 young friend of mine, on whose talents and zeal to serve 
 me I rely much. 
 
 My present situation here may be described in few words : 
 the times are so flourishing now, as compared with this time 
 last year, that, instead of about sixty debtors confined in the 
 
 These extracts, as well as what follows to the same address, 
 are from the very interesting Memoir of the Rev. John Pye Smith, 
 D.D,, published in 1853. 
 
LETTERS TO ASTON. 257 
 
 Castle, the place overflows with double that number ; and 
 other prisoners are in proportion. I cannot, on any terms, 
 procure a room for myself; but I have the certain reversion 
 of the first that becomes vacant. I am therefore under the 
 mortifying necessity of taking up my quarters among persons 
 of far different appearance from those with whom I have 
 been accustomed to associate; but I must give the poor men 
 their due, — companions in misfortune, they really pay me the 
 greatest respect, and show me every attention, and do for 
 me every service in their power. You will think my lot a 
 hard one; but is there no consolation at hand? Are not 
 these gloomy walls an asylum from the fury of persecutions ? 
 At home, and when I am at liberty, it is evident I am never 
 safe : here I am well secured! why then complain ? My dear 
 friend, the worst is over. The torture of the trial, the 
 journey hither, the horror on entering this den of despair, 
 but, above all, the lingering agony of suspense which has 
 preyed upon my heart, and drained my spirits dry, is past. 
 The succeeding six months of my dreary confinement here 
 cannot be more melancholy than the past six : to krioiu the 
 worst is far less terrible than to dread the worst. My paper 
 warns me to drop my pen : pray write with your usual free- 
 dom — my letters are not inspected. 
 
 " Your sincere friend, 
 
 ^* J. Montgomery. 
 
 " Joseph Aston, Manchester." 
 
 The followino' letter is curious from the allusions 
 which it contains to the early feelings, fancies, and 
 efforts of the writer: from it, as a primary source, have 
 been derived most of the notices of the boyhood of 'the 
 poet which have been printed in memoirs of him. 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 " Castle of York, Feb. 18. 1798. 
 '^ My dear Friend, 
 
 " To be consoled with the sympathy and honoured 
 with the friendship of the virtuous, the liberal, and the 
 
 VOL. I. S 
 
258 MEMOTKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 good, is more than an equivalent reward for any incon- 
 venience that I may suffer from the hatred and oppression 
 of the base and the wicked. Why should I complain ? I 
 meet with so many generous hearts to share my sorrows, 
 that they leave me none to mourn over; but yet, of such 
 unhappy materials have I been formed, so close do my 
 infirmities cling to me, and so ingenious am I in the art of 
 tormenting myself, that I am seldom, very seldom, cheerful. 
 You have called me your friend ; and you permit me to ad- 
 dress you by the same endearing name — you are entitled to 
 my confidence ; and if I withheld it, I should be unworthy of 
 your regard. I must therefore freely confess, that I believe 
 almost any [other] person breathing, would, in my present 
 circumstances, be perfectly happy. I trust that no man can 
 be more resigned than I feel myself to suffering ; but yet there 
 is a native melancholy interwoven in my disposition. I have 
 from my earliest years encouraged its growth, because in 
 certain moments I loved to feast on the delicious poison. 
 
 '' I will not presume to suppose I was born a poet ; but I 
 was most certainly born a dissatisfied being, whom nothing 
 but poetic feelings and poetic fame could gratify. At school, 
 almost as early as I can remember, I wooed the Muses ; 
 before I was ten years old, I had written a little volume 
 of rhymes ; at the age of twelve, I had filled two large ones 
 with the abortions of my brain ; and at fourteen, I had com- 
 posed an heroi-comic poem, in three books, containing above 
 a thousand lines in imitation of Homer's [battle of the] 
 ^ Frogs and Mice.' Unfortunately for my peace of mind, I 
 was encouraged by partial and flattering friends to proceed 
 in my career — I ought to have had a strait waistcoat and 
 straw, instead of the encomiums which were lavished upon 
 me. Fired with an enthusiasm which nothing but the fond 
 hopes of an immortal fame could have inspired in the bosom 
 of a giddy school-boy, and flushed almost to madness with 
 
 the success of my first flights, I determined to rival nay, 
 
 outshine — every bard of ancient or modern times! I have 
 shed many a tear in reading some of the sublimest passages in 
 some of our own poets, to think that I could not equal them. 
 
LETTER TO ASTON. 259 
 
 I planned and began at least a dozen epic poems, each to 
 [consist of] as many books : I cannot help smiling many 
 a time, when I am rummaging over the warehouse of my 
 brain, to find among the lumber these unfortunate embryos. 
 " After a long and difficult choice, I at length pitched upon 
 the subject of the wars in the reign of Alfred the Great. 
 Now, my dear friend, forget for one moment that you are 
 a critic ; and I will in a few words show you how mad and 
 ungovernable an imagination I possessed at that time. I 
 was just fifteen years old when I began it ; and I determined 
 to strike out of the common beaten track of Homer and 
 other heroic poets ; nothing would satisfy my boundless 
 ambition but the discovery of a new and original path, 
 where none had ever gone before, and where it would be 
 hopeless indeed for any but a poet of the most astonishing 
 power to follow me ! Do not laugh, — I planned my poem 
 to be comprised in a certain number of books ; but each 
 book was to consist of Pindaric Odes^ in which the story 
 was to be told in the most liberal manner ; in a word, my 
 idea was to unite in one work all the magnificence and sub- 
 limity of the epic with the boldness and enthusiasm of the 
 ode. Wild as the fancy was, I began and completed two 
 books, containing about twenty Pindaric Odes ! The manu- 
 scripts are by me : I could almost weep over them, as over 
 dead children, at this moment! On this plan the story 
 would not languish ; but, on the contrary, would proceed 
 with great rapidity. I cannot in a letter give you a speci- 
 men of the execution, nor even distinctly unravel the plan ; 
 but, that you may form some faint idea of the extent of my 
 frenzy, I will tell you the subjects of my first and second 
 odes. The poem commences with Alfred in the Isle of 
 Athelney, disguised as a peasant. I was resolved to 
 attempt a daring flight at first going off; and accordingly 
 the work opens with a description of the Almighty seated 
 upon his throne, looking down and commiserating the ruin 
 of England, when lo ! a host of the spirits of those who had 
 just perished in a bloody battle with the Danes, appears in 
 his presence, to receive their everlasting doom. These un- 
 
 s 2 
 
2G0 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 fortunate spirits describe the miserable condition of their 
 country, and implore the Sovereign of the world to inter- 
 fere and deliver it from despotism (thus you see I was a 
 friend of freedom long before I was a politician). Of the rest 
 of the plot I will say nothing : this bombastic flight will 
 satisfy you. The subject has drawn me in like a whirlpool: 
 and I am ashamed to observe that my paper is almost gone,, 
 and my letter scarcely begun. When once I begin to ride my 
 hobby, I am never wearied ; and I forget that my friends are 
 not so fond of the motion as I am. This very circumstance 
 — this poetic frenzy — has been the source of many sorrows 
 and many misfortunes to me : my life, short as it has been, 
 has been chequered with many curious changes, and has 
 taken its colour from this unhappy passion for fame. Dis- 
 appointments and distresses, of which few — indeed none but 
 those who have experienced the same — can form any idea, 
 have been the consequence. My disposition, by too much 
 indulgence of that romantic melancholy w^hich I mistook 
 for inspiration, is become gloomy and discontented ; my 
 feelings are very irritable ; and I have an unhappy sensi- 
 bility that would much better suit a boarding-school miss, 
 who lives upon novels, than one whose evil stars have placed 
 him in a public and perilous situation, which talents, equal 
 even to those which he once formerly fancied he possessed, 
 would be requisite to support, though the reward at least is 
 trivial. I have now given you the key to all my follies and 
 infirmities : perhaps, in the course of our correspondence, if 
 you think such things worth postage, I may occasionally 
 give you some farther particulars of my eccentric life. 
 . . . I have written a little piece entitled the ' Captive 
 Nightingale,' faintly expressive of my feelings, when I am 
 in an ill humour in this place ; but you'll remember I never 
 
 was blest with an amiable wife and little family that part 
 
 of the tale is only fiction. . . . 
 
 " Farewell, 
 
 "J. M. G. 
 
 ♦♦Mr. Joscpli Aston, Manchester." 
 
LETTERS TO ASTON. 261 
 
 In the beginning of this year, Coleridge visited 
 Sheffield, and preached in the Unitarian Chapel.*^ 
 While walking to the Manor, he composed the '^ Lines 
 on observing a Blossom, on the 1st of Feb. 1796," and 
 commencing — 
 
 " Sweet flower ! that, peeping from thy russet stem, 
 Unfoldest timidly," &c. 
 
 They were printed in the ^' Iris" of May 20th ; and 
 according to a note in Montgomery's hand, in the file 
 copy of the paper, " originally appeared there/' 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 " Castle of York, March 24. 1796. 
 
 ^' My deak Fkiend, 
 
 . " The day after the date of my last letter 
 to you, I had the good fortune to be removed to a snug 
 and very comfortable apartment in the new building here, 
 where I have remained, and shall stay during the rest 
 of my confinement. I have one room to myself, with the 
 free use of the extensive yard, and every other indulgence 
 the condition of a prisoner will admit. I am removed from 
 the noise of riot and revelry wliich is carried to the most 
 extravagant excess in the Old Castle, as in all other 
 
 * A letter from Coleridge, dated " Sheffield, Jan. 1796," is 
 printed in the "Biographia Literaria," voh ii. p. 352., edit. 1847. 
 In it the writer mentions that he had preached a charity sermon at 
 Nottingham, and enters into an elaborate apology for having been 
 persuaded " against his better judgment" to appear in ''the gown" 
 in the pulpit at Birmingham during the delivery of a political 
 sermon. On reaching Manchester, he writes, " I arrived here last 
 night from Sheffield, to wliich place I shall forAvard only about 
 thirty numbers [of the " Watchman"]. I might have succeeded 
 there, at least, equally well with the former towns, but I should 
 injure the sale of the 'Iris/ the editor of wliich (a very amiable 
 and ingenious young man of the name of James Montgomery) is 
 now in prison for a libel on a bloody-minded magistrate there. 
 Of course, I declined publicly advertising or disposing of the 
 
 ' Watchman' in that town." 
 
 s 3 
 
262 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMEFwY. 
 
 prisons where a multitude of persons of all descrIj)tions 
 are promiscuously mingled. In this building there are four 
 well-behaved persons, who have lived in the most re- 
 spectable circles, and seen better days ; and also eight of the 
 people called Quakers, who are confined for refusing to pay 
 tithes, though they never did nor ever would have resisted 
 the seizure of their property to any amount the rapacious 
 priest required. There are three venerable greyheaded 
 men among them, and the others are very decent and sen- 
 sible. One of the old Quakers is my principal and my best 
 companion ; a very gay, shrewd, cheerful man, with a heart 
 as honest and as tender as his face is clear and smiling. My 
 time, on the whole, passes away in a smooth and easy man- 
 ner. I employ myself in reading, writing, walking, &c., 
 and never, on the whole, enjoyed better spirits in my life. 
 My friends at Sheffield are become almost enthusiastic in 
 my favour ; their number is greatly increased : my enemies 
 are silent, and many of the most bitter have relented : I do 
 not believe there are ten persons who will venture to say I 
 have not been most cruelly and unjustly abused. My busi- 
 ness, which I confess was and is my greatest cause of con- 
 cern and anxiety, on account of its intricacy, and the care 
 required in its management, has hitherto gone on with 
 almost unprecedented smoothness and success. My health, 
 as I think I informed you before, has been very indifferent 
 . • . what I am yet doomed to suffer from it, God only 
 knows ! • . • Adieu ! J. M. G. 
 
 " Mr. Joseph Aston, Manchester." 
 
 " April 2. 
 *' Your letter received this morning contains no bad 
 news, but yet it has given me inexpressible concern. It 
 hurts me exceedingly to find, though your friendship and 
 modesty combine to conceal it as much as possible from me, 
 that you are very much harassed, and find great difficulty, 
 care, and anxiety attending the discharge of that trust, 
 which I was happy, for my own sake, but uneasy from the 
 beginning for yours, to repose in you." — J. M. to J. P. S. 
 
LETTER TO J. P. SMITH. 263 
 
 On the 5th of April, and again on the 12th of May, 
 Montgomery addressed long letters to Mr. Aston from 
 the ^' Castle of York :" the former contains information 
 relative to the writer's school days, and has been used 
 elsewhere ; the latter is mostly filled with expressions 
 of friendship, and closes as follows : — 
 
 " I have attempted something of the kind you proposed to 
 me. Of its merits, philosophical as well as poetical, you^ 
 who are a Pythagorean, can judge much better than the 
 generality of readers. The subject was certainlj'' highly 
 capable of embelUshment ; and if I could have produced a 
 poem equal to the model conceived in my own mind, it 
 would have been far superior to that which has appeared 
 [in the ^Iris']. . . . The time of my imprisonment now 
 begins to dwindle fast away : I have little more than seven 
 weeks to reside here. I am, on the whole, cheerful and 
 happy; though such little — I mean such great — disappoint- 
 ments as not regularly receiving letters from the few friends 
 that I have of your liberal sentiments and elegant feeling, 
 puts me out of temper.'' 
 
 James Montgomery to Mr, J. P. Smith. 
 
 "York Castle, May 1. 1796. 
 
 ^^My dear Fkiend, 
 
 "My captivity now begins to decline down the hill, and 
 I shall only have nine weeks to stay here on Tuesday next ; 
 but I fear I shall not return immediately to Sheffield : the 
 doctors here say it will be absolutely necessary for me to go 
 then to Scarborough for the benefit of sea-bathing and 
 drinking at least a fortnight. Of this I apprise you thus 
 early, that if I should be obliged to go there, you may be pre- 
 pared to indulge me with your kind and valuable services a few 
 weeks longer than we expected. . . . The management and 
 arrangement of the 'Iris' has continued to afford me much 
 satisfaction. I shall tremble when I resume it with my own 
 hands, lest its credit should fall with the resignation of its 
 
 S 4 
 
264 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 present editor. But tell that editor from me not to hack and 
 hew Pitt quite so much in the London news ; and to be particu- 
 larly careful in the Sheffield news not to insert any home 
 occurrence without the most indubitable authority." . . . 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 " Castle of York, June 9. 1796. 
 
 *' My dkar Friend, 
 
 " You have threatened to criticise the ^ Bramin.' I 
 will be revenged on you, before you even commit the crime, 
 I have read your novel with attention and much more plea- 
 sure than I promised myself from the form you had adopted. 
 I hate the plan of writing novels in letters ; but I acknowledge 
 your scheme required it, ... I will reveal a secret to 
 you which I have hitherto withheld. Four years ago, when 
 I was only nineteen, when I was so vain of my abilities that 
 I thought nothing too big for my grasp, I wrote something, 
 which 1 baptized a Novel. This was perhaps the most whim- 
 sical farrago of absurdities that was ever begotten between 
 a pen and an inkstand. However, last time I was in this 
 den, I took the pains to revise and rewrite it almost entirely 
 anew. I then ventured to show it to a friend of mine in 
 Sheffield, who is a very severe critic, and hates almost the 
 whole generation of novels. He read it, and coolly told me 
 that hitherto he had wished me a triumph over Athorpe in 
 my expected trial; ' but now,' said he, ^I wish you may be 
 imprisoned at least six months, that you may be compelled 
 to write your novel over again, and then it will be worth 
 reading.' I have taken his hint, and during my present 
 residence here, have nearly written over again and new- 
 modelled this strange production. . . . Should it appear 
 in print, you will have a fair opportunity of retaliating on me 
 the faults I have found with your ingenious work. My time 
 of confinement [draws towards a close], but my sentence is 
 a Cerberus with three heads, — fine, imprisonment, and bail! 
 Thus, even when I leave this dreadful place, after six 
 months' confinement and paying thirty pounds, I am still to 
 be indebted to two friends for the miserable privilege of 
 
VERSES WRITTEN IN PRISON. 265 
 
 being a prisoner at large two years longer ! I cannot think 
 with patience on the subject ; but I must submit ; and it is 
 as well to do so with a good grace as with a bad one. I 
 hope to be released on the 5th of eTuly ; and in a fortnight 
 afterwards shall probably be once more in Sheffield. I 
 wonder what evil star led me thither at first ! I propose to 
 spend a fortnight at Scarbro'. Farewell ; and may you 
 enjoy health, peace, and every temporal prosperity in the 
 bosom of your family and among your friends, without 
 ever being torn from them as I have been ! 
 
 " I am, most sincerely, your faithful friend, 
 
 " J. M. G. 
 
 "Mr. Joseph Aston, Manchester." 
 
 In the "Iris" of June 17th and 24th appeared rhym- 
 ing "Epistles to a Friend/' entitled the "Pleasures of 
 Imprisonment/' and dated from York Castle. In 
 "simple verse" they aflford us a glimpse of the poet 
 and his companions within the walls, and show that, 
 however his person might be in durance, his thoughts 
 were as unfettered as his conscience was clear : so that 
 he could exclaim — 
 
 '^ Blest with freedom unconfined, 
 Dungeons cannot hold the soul : 
 Who can chain the immortal mind ? — 
 None but He who spans the pole ! " 
 
 These lines strongly remind us of the sentiment in a 
 well-known verse of Lovelace, written while he was a 
 prisoner in the loathsome gatehouse at Westminster : — 
 
 *^ Stone walls do not a prison make, 
 Nor iron bars a cage; 
 Minds innocent and quiet take 
 That for a hermitage." 
 
 Others in like circumstances have expressed themselves 
 to the same effect ; and a volume of the Poetrij of Im- 
 
266 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 prisonmeiit by British authors might be collected be- 
 tween the time of the Poet-king, James the First of 
 Scotland, or Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey^ and that 
 of Thomas Cooper the Chartist. It is true that Mont- 
 gomery, like the *^ unhappy buck " in the Castle-yarcl, 
 
 ^' Had been twice hunted — twice run down ! " — 
 "And knew, by past experience taught, 
 That Innocence availeth nought." 
 
 But he adds — 
 
 " I know, — and ^t is my proudest boast, 
 That conscience is itself an host ; 
 While this inspires my swelling breast, 
 Let all forsake me — I'm at rest ! 
 Ten thousand deaths in every nerve 
 I 'd rather suffer than deserve ! ' 
 
 James Montgomery to Mr. J. P. Smith. 
 
 " York Castle, July 4. 1796. 
 
 Mr DEAK Fkiend, 
 
 " I take up my pen with pleasure to snatch a few of 
 the last moments of my imprisonment to inform you that I 
 shall be set at liberty as early as I please to-morrow morn- 
 ing. Pray insert in the next ' Iris ' a plain unvarnished 
 paragraph just mentioning the circumstances, and adding 
 that, having suffered considerably in my health during the 
 first four months of my imprisonment, I have, by the advice 
 of the doctors, gone for a short time to Scarbro' ; so that it 
 will probably be a few weeks longer before I have the hap- 
 piness of paying my personal respects to the friends of the 
 ^ Iris ' . . . I am exceedingly impatient to return and 
 ease you of those irksome burdens which you have so pa- 
 tiently borne for me during these six unfortunate months. 
 
267 
 
 CHAR XX. 
 
 1796. 
 
 PraSON LESSONS. — VISIT TO SCARBOROUGH. — HEimX WORMALL, THE 
 
 QUAKER. MONTGOMERY'S LETTERS TO HIM. — TO MR. ASTON AND 
 
 J. r. SMITH. WRITES AN ADDRESS FOR THE THEATRE. "A TALE 
 
 TOO TRUE." — RETURNS TO SHEFFIELD. — ADDRESSES THE READERS 
 OF THE "IRIS." 
 
 On the 5th of July, Montgomery was released from his 
 confinement in York Castle. In this school of adver- 
 sity he learnt much — not including, however, all the 
 lessons which Religion might have taught ; but his 
 mind was disciplined in those habits of reflection, and 
 his genius assumed that pensive tone, which ever after- 
 wards distinguished him as the " Muse of Sorrow's 
 Child." At the same time, his constitution was so 
 much shattered, that his physician recommended a so- 
 journ at Scarborough for a few weeks : thither, accord- 
 ingly, he went at once. He was followed by the respect- 
 ful good wishes of every one with whom he had shared 
 any intercourse, whether ofRcials or prisoners, and espe- 
 cially of Henry Wormall*, one of eight members of the 
 Society of Friends who were in prison for refusing to 
 pay the costs in a tithe suit which had been decided 
 against them. This good man, who had been the poet's 
 frequent visitor in his '' cell,'' was among the earliest 
 to whom he wrote. ^ 
 
 * This worthy Quaker kept a journal, in which he notes under 
 the above date: — ''8th mo. 5th, 1796. Went from this place 
 
268 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 James Montgomery to Henry WormalL 
 
 '^ Scarbro', July 8. 1796. 
 " My dear Friend Henry, 
 
 " I embrace with pleasure an opportunity to tell you 
 that I have neither forgotten you nor your friends in York 
 Castle. I arrived safe at this place on Tuesday evening, and 
 by the kind recommendation of Mr. Staveley, have got board 
 and lodging at a house where 1 am very comfortably accom- 
 modated. I wish you would come and smoke your pipe with 
 me here as usual ; for I assure you, notwithstanding all the 
 pleasures of liberty, I miss one of the principal pleasures of 
 imprisonment in the loss of your company. I have bathed 
 once in the sea, and was not quite frightened out of my 
 senses. I am charmed with the romantic beauties of this 
 place, and scarcely can find time to do anything but ramble 
 up and down admiring them. I have several times risked 
 my neck in climbing the precipices that overhang the shore ; 
 and it is not improbable but some accident mayj'et prevent, 
 for ever, my return either to York Castle or Shefl3.eld ; for 
 I cannot resist the temptation of w^andering wherever my 
 feet will carry my head. I have not time to add much more, 
 except that I wish, more perhaps for my own sake than 
 yours, that you were here to enjoy with me those blessings 
 of liberty Avhich you have never deserved to forfeit. Re- 
 member me in the most friendly and respectful manner to 
 
 James Montgomery, a very kind and social young man : he was 
 to me a pleasing companion, and he has left a good report behind 
 him. Although he is qualified with good natural parts, and has 
 had a liberal education, yet he was instructive and kind to me. 
 I think I never had an acquaintance with any one before, that 
 was not of my persuasion, with whom 1 had so much unity. I 
 was troubled, and thought it a loss to part with him." It is a 
 little remarkable, that although Wormall and the other Friends 
 held religious meetings regularly on first and fifth days, Montgo- 
 mery never was, nor was he ever invited to be, present with 
 them on these occasions. 
 
LETTER TO ASTON. 269 
 
 your friends Jolin Stansfield, Joseph Brown, and tlie rest of 
 your fellow sufferers, the same as if I mentioned thera by 
 name ; not forgetting little Hannah, your handmaid.* 
 
 " I am, with sincere esteem, 
 
 " Your faithful friend, 
 
 "J. Montgomery. 
 
 "P.S.— Pray tell Mr. W. Ford, the tailor, that I delivered 
 his letter duly to his wife. I forgot to tell you the principal 
 thing, which you will be anxious to know, — namely, that I 
 am in better health and spirits than I have found myself for 
 these two years past. Remember me to Billy the dog, Billy 
 the buck, Nanny, Ralph, the gulls, geese, &c, 
 
 *' Henry W*mall, New Buildings, Castle of York." 
 
 James Montgomery/ to Joseph Aston. 
 
 "Scarbro', July 10. 1796. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " On Tuesday last I was duly liberated from my long 
 and cruel captivity, and the same evening arrived at this de- 
 lightful place. A greater contrast can scarcely be imagined 
 than the narrow circumference of a prison and the boundless 
 immensity of the ocean. I am charmed with the romantic 
 beauties of this place, and my only employment here is to 
 admire them — and to wish to leave them all, to return home 
 as speedily as possible ; thus in no situation of life have I 
 ever met with unmixed happiness ! But shadow relieves 
 the glare of light ; the bitter corrects the sweet ; and soli- 
 citude softens the tone of bliss, which might otherwise 
 transport a simple lad like me beyond the narrow limits of 
 his reason. Part — I may say the greatest part — of the plea- 
 sure which I experienced on the day of my enlargement, 
 arose from the solacing idea that you and many other dear 
 
 * Hannah was a little Quaker maiden who waited upon the 
 prisoners of her own persuasion. Many years afterwards, she 
 startled Montgomery by introducing herself to him as an elderly 
 woman after a Bible meeting somewhere in the neighbourhood of 
 Bradford. 
 
270 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 and absent friends were then — perhaps at the very moment 
 of my release — congratulating me in spirit, and welcoming 
 the captive on his resurrection from the tomb of despondency. 
 If you enjoyed my feelings by sympathy, I also participate 
 of your sensations by the same pleasing emotion of the soul. 
 " To me the magnificence of the ocean and the awful 
 grandeur of these winding and mountainous shores are 
 almost entirely new spectacles ; for though 1 was born in a 
 sea-port, I have never had the opportunity of contemplating 
 such sublime objects since I first came to England, at the 
 age of five years. Though I am very weak, and easily over- 
 set, I for that very reason, as much as for curiosity, fatigue 
 myself with rambling from morning till night. J. have more 
 than once endangered my neck, by climbing the precipices 
 overshadowing the shore ; and it is not improbable that I 
 may yet make a fraction of my head, or reduce my bones 
 to decimals in some of my wanderings. ... I hope to 
 put the last hand to my novel here, — perhaps by conveying 
 it into the fire : if it should escape martyrdom, — and really it 
 is not worthy of that honour, — I may perhaps find some op- 
 portunity of conveying it to you before I venture to print it 
 for the benefit of the trunk-makers and pastry-cooks ! I 
 have some thoughts of publishing, as an experiment, a col- 
 lection of the bngatelles produced in York Castle, under the 
 title of ' Prison Amusements,' by P. P. What think you ? 
 The readers of the ' Iris' have not been disappointed with 
 them ; will that million-headed Hydra the public accept 
 the sop, and not worry the poor author into the bargain ? I 
 wait your opinion on this important point. Pray write soon. 
 
 " Your sincere friend, 
 
 " J. M. G. 
 
 " Mr. Joseph Aston, Manchester." 
 
 Of the title and the subject of the "never' alluded 
 to in the foregoing letter, we know little beyond 
 what the author afterwards mentions to the same 
 correspondent, and the fact that he one day told Mr. 
 Holland that he had just been burning the manu- 
 
ADDRESS FOR THE THEATRE. 271 
 
 script. While in prison he also sketched and soon 
 afterwards finished a composition intended for the stage, 
 having perhaps the same scope as the novel, for it was 
 entitled, the ^^ Haunted Heads," a parody on the imi- 
 tations of the German dramatists then in vogue,* We 
 know nothing of the plan or the style of the piece; 
 but through the intervention of a player of the name 
 of Mansel, at that time connected with the Sheffield 
 Theatre, it was submitted to Harris, the manager at 
 Covent Garden, who returned it with the equivocal 
 objection, that '^ it was too full of wit to be acted." 
 Montgomery kept the MS. by him many years, and 
 then burnt it. 
 
 While in prison he wrote '^ An Address " in rhyme, 
 which was delivered in the theatre, Sheffield, on occa- 
 sion of the performance of the tragedy of ^^ Mahomet," 
 by a party of amateurs, for the benefit of poor widows. 
 These lines, which do not invite transcription, were the 
 first, but not the last, from the same hand that were 
 recited on the stage. To the end of his life Mont- 
 gomery was ^^ the widow's friend," not only both in 
 prose and rhyme, but with his tongue and his purse 
 as well as with his pen. He dated from Scarborough 
 the humorous verses entitled ^^A Tale too True,"f 
 by " Paul Positive," as he commonly signed himself. J 
 
 * The " German nonsense of the day," as it is called by the 
 author of the " Pursuits of Literature," was ridiculed in '' My 
 Night-gown and Slippers," by George Colman ; and in a dramatic 
 extravaganza, called the "Rovers," in the " Anti- Jacobin." — Vide 
 note to the " Shade of Alexander Pope," 1799, p. 65. 
 
 t Works, p. 152. Whenever this form of reference occurs in the 
 following pages, it must be understood as applying to the single- 
 volume edition of Montgomery's Poems, published in 1850. 
 
 t " Paul Positive " not having been at this time generally known, 
 the initials " P. P." were supposed to stand for " Peter Pindar," 
 — aut Petrus aut Diaholas^ said the uninitiated ! 
 
272 MEMOTKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 James Montgomery to J. P. Smith. 
 
 " Scarbro', July 17. 
 
 " You will not be angry at my impertinent advice, be- 
 cause it is not given under the idea of instruction or injunc- 
 tion, but merely that some of the hints I throw out may 
 assist you in pursuing that path of moderation and security 
 which no man living is more capable of following than your- 
 self. If any riots happen before my return, do not tell any- 
 dangerous truths, nor any wilful falsehoods — the latter part 
 of this advice is unnecessary ; but you must particularly be 
 on your guard to observe the former." 
 
 Advice of this kind will only be supposed to indicate 
 timidity by those who forget that the writer had just 
 suffered '^fine and imprisonment," for simply describing* 
 one of those riots, the recurrence of which, in the then 
 highly charged condition of the political atmosphere, he 
 appears to anticipate with as little surprise as the pro- 
 bability of thunderstorms in the month of July. The 
 poet never forgot this seasonable kindness of his early 
 friend* ; and they met with increased respect in after life, 
 when religion had changed their hearts and sanctified 
 their pursuits. 
 
 On Montgomery's return to Sheffield, and having 
 resumed his seat at the editorial desk at the "Iris" 
 office, he published an address to his readers, which 
 concludes with the expression of his thanks to the 
 magistrates who w^ere his judges at Doncaster, for the 
 generous indulgence extended towards him by their 
 authority during his imprisonment. He observes : 
 
 * Among Dr. Smith's books was a copy of' the Poetse minores 
 
 Graeci, Cant. 1652, on the fly-leaf of which was written : "J. P. 
 
 Smith : e dono Jacobi Montgomery, amici dilecti, poetseque pr^e- 
 stantissimi. 1796.** 
 
ADDRESS TO READERS OF THE ^^ IRIS." 273 
 
 " Though to the last pulse of my life I can never cease to 
 consider both these prosecutions as the most unmerited mis- 
 fortunes that ever befel me, 1 shall always remember with 
 a conscious, and I trust an honest pride, that in the first in- 
 stance my punishment and example Avere deemed necessary 
 for ihe support of public justice and the preservation of the 
 public peace : had my death under the same circumstances 
 been found equally requisite, I would have lost my life, 
 with as much cheerfulness as 1 lost my liberty, to serve my 
 country. 
 
 " On reviewing the singular circumstances of my late case, 
 I am happy in the reflection, that my sufferings have now 
 offered an ample atonement to appease the wounded feelings 
 of a gentleman, who thought he had reason to believe I had 
 injured him by describing the actions of a nameless cha- 
 racter : at the same time, I must frankly inform him, that 
 he cannot look back with more triumphant satisfaction on 
 my sufferings than I myself do at this moment. He hath 
 cause to congratulate himself on the verdict of the jury ; I 
 am content with the verdict of the public : for whatever 
 may be my opinion of the former, I shall never desire the 
 sentiments of the latter to be any other than what they 
 are." 
 
 We cannot take our leave of this affair without men- 
 tioning, that while the prosecutor was through life 
 anxious to disabuse his character of the stigma which 
 the transaction alluded to seemed to fasten on it, he em- 
 braced every opportunity of showing respect to Mont- 
 gomery, both in public and in private. On one occasion, 
 the gallant Colonel startled the sensitive poet not a little, 
 by suddenly putting his hand upon him in the street, 
 and stopping with some message or other. In another 
 instance, when Athorpe was presiding as a magistrate 
 in the Cutlers' Hall, he perceived Montgomery among 
 the crowd, and sending to him by an officer, made the 
 quondam libeller come and sit beside him on the bench, 
 
 VOL. J. T 
 
274 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 while lie wrote an advertisement for the " Iris," taking 
 occasion, at the same time^ to make some remarks on 
 the talents of Felix Vaughan, who had just died. We 
 need not say that Montgomery's townspeople were 
 much struck by this incident ; and, to borrow the lan- 
 guage of another writer, '^ Who would not at that mo- 
 ment have envied his feelings ? His was the triumph 
 of proclaimed truth and innocence. And yet the cir- 
 cumstance reflected honour on the proper feeling and 
 the candour of his late prosecutor." 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 "Sheffield, Aug. 6. 1796. 
 
 '^ My dear Friend, 
 
 '^ The post that brings you this hasty effusion, will also 
 convey to you a welcome paper message from an old friend 
 of yours and mine, whom vindictive persecution drove from 
 his native country to seek an asylum in a land where some 
 traces of liberty may yet be found. How often have I 
 repented my madness in not following his fortunes, though 
 warmly invited! But, in truth, I am not partial to America, 
 and I believe I shall never emigrate thither till banished by 
 imperious necessity ; and God grant that moment may 
 never arrive. I love England, with all its disadvan- 
 tages, its cares, vexations, horrors — perhaps my misfor- 
 tunes themselves have only endeared me the more to my 
 native island. 
 
 " I am once more, as you will have seen by the last 
 ^Iris,' returned to this town. I confess frankly to you, 
 that I feel a degree of dread and anxiety, which weighs 
 down my spirits exceedingly, on my re-embarking in 
 business, and again becoming the butt of malice and the 
 mark of envy. A public character is always on the pillory, 
 exposed to the jeers and taunts, the rotten eggs and brick- 
 bats of the mob of mankind, who are never so happy as 
 when they are making those whom they feel to be above 
 them miserable. I love fame ; but I cannot afford to pay 
 
LETTER TO ASTON. 275 
 
 the price at which it must be purchased. This luxury^ like 
 all the necessaries of life, is now so much advanced in price, 
 that gold alone — not virtue, wit, or genius — can procure it. 
 I have now determined to hazard the publication of my 
 ' Prison Amusements/ and may probably add some other 
 trifles. . . . 
 
 " Your faithful friend, 
 
 '' P. P. 
 
 " Mr. Joseph Aston, Manchester." 
 
 Jaraes Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 ^^ Sheffield, Aug. 27. 1796. 
 
 ^^ My dear Friend, 
 
 ... ^^ I should certainly have acknowledged with 
 gratitude the critical flagellation which you have so libe- 
 rally bestowed on the poor ' Bramin,' had I not been in daily 
 expectation of receiving back from the hands of a friend 
 the MS. which I half promised to send to your ' house of 
 correction.' I intended to take a place for it in the coach 
 to Manchester, and at the same time send you a present of 
 as handsome a dry-beating as any critic could wish from 
 the hands of an enraged poet. . . . My ' Prison Amuse- 
 ments ' will be published both by subscription and other- 
 wise. When I send the MS., I will enclose some proposals 
 and a specimen of the work. I intend to alter the ^Bramin' 
 considerably, add several new images and fables, and, I 
 hope, improve the whole. Your criticisms will not be for- 
 gotten: even where they are not adopted, I shall delibe- 
 rately reconsider the passages at which they are levelled. 
 I have not at present any idea of visiting Fairfield [a Mo- 
 ravian establishment] : there are many persons there whom 
 I know, and even esteem, but none with whom I am par- 
 ticularly intimate. Besides, I have spent so much in a late 
 excursion to York for the pleasure of my worst enemy, that 
 I have nothing to squander on journeys for my own plea- 
 sure at present. If you ever have to make a journey to 
 Chapel-en-le-Frith, Castleton, &c., I will meet you, with more 
 joy than you can easily imagine, at any of those places. I 
 
 T 2 
 
276 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 suppose, since you are ^ up to the lips in business' (like Dr. 
 Graham's earth-bathers), you have relinquished every idea 
 of visiting Sheffield ? Chance may some time bring us 
 together, whether we will or no ; but neither chance nor 
 design shall ever rob you of the friendship of 
 
 " Yours, most sincerely, 
 
 " J. M. G. 
 " Mr. Joseph Aston, Manchester/' 
 
 Under date of Sept. 6tlj, Montgomery wrote a letter 
 to Aston, with the MS. already mentioned ; and again 
 on Oct. 18th^ when he acknowledges the return of the 
 novel in question, and which had never yet had a title ! 
 '^ I have thought/' says he, ^^ of the ^ Haunted Heads; 
 or, the History of Twelve Months.' " 
 
 James Montgomery to Henry Wormall. 
 
 '' Sheffield, Sept. 19. 1796. 
 
 "My dear Friend Henry, 
 
 '^I have too long waited for this opportunity of 
 writing to you, and have now very little leisure to write. 
 Be assured, however, that so far from being forgotten by 
 me, scarcely a day passes but you occupy some place in my 
 thoughts. As often as I remember York Castle, I always 
 call to mind the many pleasing, peaceful hours we spent 
 together there. How happy should I be to know, that you 
 were now, like myself, recalling the scenes of that dreadful 
 place, like- a dream that is past ! But to the will of the 
 Supreme Disposer of all events we must patiently and 
 humbly submit. He who is Omnipresent, is felt in the 
 dungeon as much [as surely] as in heaven itself; and He, 
 who can do all things, can make a prison a paradise. Such 
 I doubt not you have often found it ; such I hope you find 
 it every day; and such I most earnestly pray you may 
 always find it, while your lot is cast within those gloomy 
 walls. 
 
 " I acknowledge with gratitude a very kind letter re- 
 
LETTER TO WORMALL. 277 
 
 ceived by me from you, since my return to SheflfiekL It was 
 exceedingly acceptable, because it assured me of the con- 
 tinuance of your friendship and esteem, and informed me 
 that you sometimes think of our former intercourse. 
 
 " In writing to you, I confess I feel as if I were address- 
 ing a friend, from whom I am now perhaps separated for 
 ever, at least in this world** Should you happen to come 
 to Sheffield, or I go to York, either willingly or unioillingly^ 
 it will afford me unspeakable happiness once more to see 
 and converse with you. Improbable as it may appear that 
 we shall ever meet again, it is very far from being impos- 
 sible. Young as I am^ I have seen so much of the fluctu- 
 ating uncertainty of human events, that I cannot, for my 
 own part, build one single hope on the expectation of the 
 future from the appearance of the present. Imprudence, 
 an honest but mistaken zeal for truth^ may send me as sud- 
 denly as before, to York Castle, as a prisoner. Unforeseen 
 misfortunes may hurry me to that den of despondency, 
 that tomb of the living, as a debtor ? But why should I 
 attempt to make myself uneasy, by anticipating what per- 
 haps may never happen ; and what, even if it should happen, 
 may be again endured and overcome with as much ease as 
 former difficulties. 
 
 " Misfortunes in general come too soon, when they come 
 at all ; and for my own part, my dear friend, I have cares, 
 vexations, and concerns enough at all times on my hands, 
 without anticipating such as may never occur. Since I 
 arrived at home, I have been occasionally much indisposed, 
 and on Saturday last I was seized with such a sudden and 
 dreadful fit of sickness, that I really was uncertain whether 
 I should survive it. I am better to-day, but extremely 
 weak. I hope you enjoy the blessing of good health, and 
 that your dear family at home are likewise well. Pray 
 give my best and kindest respects to all your friends suf- 
 fering in the cause of conscience with yourself. It will be 
 a pleasure to me to think that I am not entirely forgotten by 
 
 They never did meet after their parting in the Castle-yaril. 
 
 X 3 
 
278 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 those worthy sufferers, particularly Joseph Brown and John 
 Stansfielcl. Remember me also, if you please, to little 
 Hannah, if she is still with you. When you see Mr. W. 
 Clayton, our worthy governor, remember me to him with 
 gratitude, for his former kindness ; also my best compli- 
 ments to Mr. Staveley [the gaoler], and inform him that 
 I safely delivered his present to Mr. Geo. Hawley. Give 
 poor Nanny, and Billy, and Ralph, each a crust of bread 
 in my name, and tell the gulls I have not forgotten them. 
 
 '' I am, dear Henry, 
 
 " Your sincere and faithful friend, 
 
 " J. Montgomery. 
 
 '' P.S. — I shall always be happy to hear from you. 
 " Henry Wormall, Castle, York." 
 
 James Montgomery to Henry Wormall. 
 
 "Sheffield, Oct. 13. 1796. 
 ^^My dear Friend Henry, 
 
 " I am sorry to have the present opportunity of writing 
 to you. The bearer, Luke Palfreyman*, is my friend ; and 
 as he has had the misfortune to be committed for three months 
 to your Castle, I earnestly request you to show him any little 
 kindness in'your power. His crime is, having, in a moment 
 of passion, said some words which the magistrates here in- 
 terpreted into disrespect towards themselves. I do not 
 pretend to justify the expressions he used on the occasion; 
 but as a brother in distress, I recommend him to you. He 
 is a man of very good character, and possessed of consider- 
 able property ; being in a large hosiery business, and having 
 some freehold property besides. 
 
 " I know the simple circumstance of his being a prisoner 
 would alone induce you to alleviate the weight of his mis- 
 fortune as far as lies in your power. I am also convinced 
 that you will feel double satisfaction in serving him, when 
 you know that it will oblige me, your former friend and 
 fellow-sufferer. Your kind attention to me, your welcome 
 
 * Vide p. 194, ante. 
 
LETTERS TO WORMALL. 279 
 
 visits, and your cheerful conversation will never be obli- 
 terated from my memory. You will not have it in your 
 power to become as intimate with him as you were with 
 me, as he will probably be closely confined ; but I do not 
 recommend him to you as a companion, but as a person 
 whom I wish you to serve as much as you can conveniently. 
 1 believe him to be a strictly honest man : some of the first 
 and most respectable gentlemen in SheflSeld interfered in 
 his behalf to accommodate the affair ; but the magistrates 
 were inexorable. He has twice stepped forward, unsolicited 
 by me, to give bail for me ; the first time he did it we were 
 strangers to each other : he is at present one of the bonds- 
 men for my good behaviour. 
 
 " I acknowledge with thanks the receipt of a very little, 
 but very welcome letter from you, by one Stevenson. Since I 
 wrote last, I have suffered exceedingly from ill health. . . . 
 I hope you enjoy perfect health, and as much happiness as 
 a good conscience in a prisoner can afford. Remember me 
 in the kindest terms to your suffering friends, and be assured 
 of the constant esteem and respect of 
 
 '^ Your sincere friend, 
 
 " J. Montgomery. 
 
 " Henry Woraiall, New Buildings, 
 Castle of York." 
 
 James Montgomery to Henry WormalL 
 
 " Sheffield, Dec. 12. 1796. 
 "Dear and honoured Friend, 
 
 ^'If my long silence has induced you to believe that 
 I could be so ungrateful as to forget my friends in York 
 Castle, I hope the receipt of this will prove to your satisfac- 
 tion that I have not. Seldom indeed do I lie down to sleep 
 without calling to remembrance the various scenes which 
 passed during my residence with you. Many circumstances 
 I recollect with peculiar pleasure, and my mind dwells upon 
 them with a delight which none but those can feel^ who 
 like me have been unfortunate, and like me have found 
 such friends, even in misfortune, as to endear some of its 
 
 T 4 
 
280 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 most bitter scenes. Whenever I am uneasy and afflicted at 
 home, which is very often the case, for you know yourself 
 that I am too apt to be gloomy and discontented — when I 
 am thus, I immediately look back at York Castle, and pic- 
 ture to myself those moments in it when I was the most 
 miserable. When, on the contrary, I am cheerful and con- 
 tented in mind, I fly back with pleasure to my little room in 
 your building. I fancy I see you seated beside me, smoking 
 your pipe and winding your cotton, with poor Billy 
 lying at our feet ; and though we are many miles asunder 
 at present^ and perhaps may never, never meet again, I 
 sometimes imagine our old conversations restored, and think 
 we are unfolding our hearts to each other. The remem- 
 brance of these things will be one of the principal pleasures 
 of my future life, whether it be marked, as hitherto, with 
 trials and persecutions, or whether better, more delightful 
 days await me. Absence, instead of weakening the respect 
 and attachment which I conceived for you in prison, has 
 strengthened, and, in proportion as the time becomes distant^ 
 will, I hope, strengthen it more and more. 
 
 " I have observed, with much concern, the slow progress of 
 the Bill now before the House of Commons, in your favour : 
 it is adjourned, and adjourned again, so often, and under 
 such trifling pretences, that I do really fear it will never 
 even reach the House of Lords.* I believe you are prepared 
 for the worst, Henry, and that you are as much resigned 
 as a man and a Christian ought to be under such severe and 
 
 * The Bill referred to was brought into Parliament by Mr. Ser- 
 jeant Adair, Oct. 17. 1796, and was almost identical with one in- 
 troduced by the learned gentleman in the previous session, and 
 which had been rejected by the House of Lords. Its avowed ob- 
 ject was not to free the Quaker from liability to pay tithes, 
 but to compel the claimant to distrain for the amount, instead of 
 being allowed to imprison the offender. After a somewhat length- 
 ened debate in the House of Commons, on the 24th Feb. and 6th 
 March, 1797, the Bill was thrown out. Of course it could only 
 have reached the case of the prisoners, even if it had passed, by a 
 special or retrospective clause. 
 
LETTER TO WORMALL. 281 
 
 undeserved calamity. I wish for your deliverance ; but if 
 that wish must not be gratified, I wish you may always be 
 enabled, even in the agonising hours of sickness, and per- 
 haps of death*, to bear your sufferings — or rather to triumph 
 over them — with as much fortitude as you have hitherto 
 done. I hope your worthy friends and brethren in misfor- 
 tune support their spirits and submit to their cruel and 
 infamous fate with their wonted cheerfulness. Remember 
 me most kindly to them all, and assure them of my warm 
 and undiminished friendship. 
 
 " I am happy to learn that you have done your best to 
 serve and console poor Mr. Palfreyman in his distress ; I 
 wish your time and that of all your friends were as short as 
 his. I shall be exceedingly rejoiced to hear from you as 
 often as you feel the least inclination to write either by 
 post or by friends. 
 
 "I am, sincerely, your faithful friend, 
 
 "J. Montgomery. 
 
 " Hemy Wormall, Castle, York." 
 
 * This was not a mere idle sentimentalism : the release of any 
 of the prisoners appeared at this time improbable enough ; and 
 one of them, John Wilkinson, died in prison. 
 
282 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY, 
 
 CHAP. XXL 
 1797. 
 
 RHYMING BAGATELLES. — PUBLICATION OF " PRISON AMUSEMENTS." — 
 
 MS. NOVEL. DEDICATIONS, — FELIX VAUGHAN. — LETTERS TO 
 
 WOR]\LAXL AND ASTON. — EXTINCTION OF THE " SHEFFIELD COURANT." 
 
 GENERAL INFIRMARY. — MONTGOMERY'S HYJVIN AND EPILOGUE. — 
 
 HIS TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF DR. BROWNE. 
 
 The pair of poetical trifles which follow were published 
 at this time : they appeared anonymously; but Mont- 
 gomery has attested his authorship of them in the 
 copies before us. The subject of the first is partly 
 borrowed from the French of La Motte: — 
 
 " The Fox and the Lion. — A Tale. 
 
 ^^ A Fox, pursued by hounds and men, 
 Escaped — into a Lion's den. 
 His majesty rose up to greet him, 
 And leisurely prepared to eat him. 
 To eat him ? What was Reynard's crime ? 
 He just arrived in pudding time ! 
 ' You're welcome. Sir, in honest truth, 
 You're very welcome to my tooth.' 
 ' Heaven bless your royal chops,' replies 
 The trembling Fox, with rainy eyes : 
 ' Spare me one moment, to relate 
 My dear departed father's fate : 
 A hare sought refuge from the hounds — 
 As I have done — within his grounds ; 
 
RHYMING BAGATELLES. 283 
 
 He — unlike you — a wicked sinner. 
 Devoured the fugitive for dinner, 
 When lo ! a bone — as mine may not — 
 Choked the old rascal on the spot ! ' 
 ' Live ! ' cried the Lion ; — ' live ! the bone 
 That killed your father, saves his son ! ' 
 This fable proves, if rightly taken, 
 That wit sometimes may save the bacon. 
 "Sheffield, Feb. 22. 1797." 
 
 The other bagatelle is thus introduced : ^^An acquaint- 
 ance of mine, who is fond of the Linnaean mode of cha- 
 racterising objects of Natural History, has amused him- 
 self with drawing up the following definition of man : 
 simia sine caudd: pedihus posticis amhulans : gregarius^ 
 omnivorus^ inquietus^ mendax^ furax^ rapax^ salax^ 
 pugnaXj artiiim variarum capax^ animalium reliquorum 
 hostis^ sui ipsius inimicus acerrimus.'^ Montgomery 
 translated these terms for his readers, as follows : 
 
 ^^ Man is an animal unfledged, 
 A monkey with his tail abridged ; 
 A thing that walks on spindle legs. 
 With bones as brittle, sir, as eggs ; 
 His body flexible and limber, 
 And headed with a knob of timber ; 
 A being frantic and unquiet. 
 And very fond of beef and riot ; 
 Rapacious, lustful, rough, and martial, 
 To lies, and lying scoundrels partial ! 
 By nature formed with splendid parts, 
 To rise in science — shine in arts ; 
 Yet so confounded cross and vicious, 
 A mortal foe to all his species ! 
 His own hest friend^ and, you must know, 
 His own worst enemy by being so ! " 
 
 A volume entitled ^' Prison Amusements, by Paul 
 
284 MEMOIRS or JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Positive," and alluded to in one of the letters to Aston, 
 was published at the beginning of this year* The au- 
 thor's personal history, wherever known, had prepared 
 the way to a favourable reception of a work which, 
 besides the interest of personal allusion, exhibited the 
 earnest of future success. The contents indicate twenty- 
 four pieces, many of which, as the Preface states, ^^ were 
 composed in bitter moments, amid the horrors of a gaol, 
 under the pressure of sickness. They were the tran- 
 scripts of melancholy feelings — the warm effusions of a 
 bleeding heart. The writer amused his imagination 
 with attiring his sorrows in verse, that, under the ro- 
 mantic appearance of fiction, he might sometimes forget 
 that his misfortunes were real." In this volume, the 
 ^^ Pleasures of Imprisonment," already mentioned, formed 
 a conspicuous feature : the piece was afterwards cor- 
 rected, and much abridged, by the author. But the 
 ^^ Bramin," in two cantos, is the longest and most ela- 
 borate composition. Of this poem also, brief extracts 
 only have been reprinted by the author, his maturer 
 judgment having led him to omit many of those glowing 
 poetical illustrations of the Hindoo mythology which 
 characterise the original design. For instance, the Sage, 
 on the banks of the Ganges, having '^ unlocked the trea- 
 sures of his mind," in the fragment reprinted by Mont- 
 gomery, calls upon his auditors to — 
 
 " behold 
 
 Examples of the mysteries I unfold." 
 
 "7^ T^ ^ ^ 
 
 " See in light gambols, tripping o'er the lawn, 
 Yon beauteous doe, and wildly wanton fawn : 
 Swift as fantastic meteors sweep the sky, * 
 They spring, they charge, they turn^ retire, or fly. 
 In this delightful valley dwelt the pair, 
 A gentle mother and her daughter fair. 
 
THE ^^BKAMIN." 285 
 
 That stately deer, whose branching honours spread 
 High o'er his nodding brows and graceful head. 
 Once shone the glory of the rural scene, 
 The gallant monarch of the village green ; 
 He wooed yon doe to his enamoured arms, 
 A virgin then in all her spring of charms. 
 That playful fawn, so beautiful and young, 
 An only child from their embraces sprung ; 
 Twelve circling suns renewed their bright career, 
 And found the lovers happier every year ; 
 While each fond parent in their daughter's face 
 The other's budding beauties loved to trace. 
 
 " Soft as the dulcet fumes of spices flow 
 From Ceylon's groves when evening breezes blow : 
 Mild as the sunshine of the vernal day, 
 Their gilded moments sweetly stole away. ! 
 
 But, ah ! my sorrowing bosom bleeds to tell 
 How, warm in youth, the vigorous husband fell : 
 Fell, — as the cedar, flourishing on high, 
 Stoops to the fierce red bolt that splits the sky. 
 The prostrate ruins load the mournful ground. 
 And all its blasted glories perish round. 
 Thus set the bridegroom from the noon of life. 
 Nor long survived the self-devoted wife! 
 I saw the mourner mount his funeral pyre, 
 Kiss the cold corpse, and triumph in the fire ; 
 One farewell tear to parting life she shed. 
 Sunk on his breast, and bowed her dying head. 
 So tvere the smi extinguished from his sphere^ 
 The ividoived moon ivoidd perish on his bier ! 
 The daughter next, in beauty's morning bloom, 
 Wept o'er their loss, then followed to the tomb : 
 Thus fades an orphan violet on the plain. 
 When the plough shears the parent-roots in twain ! 
 Now changed to deer, renewed the lovers find 
 All the lost happiness they left behind." 
 
 If the simile printed in italics be not one of the 
 
286 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 finest, it is assuredly one of the most perfect to be 
 found in any poem; while the superstition which it 
 illustrates is one of the most intensely interesting 
 elements in the history of human error. How little did 
 Montgomery think, when he wrote the couplet alluded 
 to with such seeming complacency, that he would, in a 
 few years, become one of the most earnest and pathetic 
 denouncers of this cruel system of female immolation 
 — much less that he would live to rejoice in the aboli- 
 tion of sutteeism by the British Government. Canto ii. 
 continues these *^ examples'' through 246 lines more. 
 The fable of the serpent Soto, fascinating small birds 
 to bring them within the reach of his jaws, is appro- 
 priately introduced, and the moral which is drawn from 
 it, striking. The reptile is thus finely described : 
 
 " Lo, emanating from the rustling brake, 
 Glides, like a ray of light, a glistening snake ; 
 His pearly scales unnumbered hues unfold — 
 Green^ crimson, purple, and resplendent gold, 
 In gay confusion, vanish, change, unite. 
 With all the magic subtilty of light ; 
 Graceful he rolls his undulating train. 
 Bright as a liviyig rainbow on the plain : 
 E'en thus, in luxury's soft, delicious bowers, 
 
 The serpent Pleasure plays among the flowers. 
 
 ***** 
 
 " That horrid snake was once a subtile slave, 
 Who played with fools the fool, with knaves the knave ; 
 A flatterer vile, whose lubricated tongue 
 With honey poisoned, and with kindness stung ; 
 A treacherous friend, who with a kiss betrayed ; 
 A foe whose looks were deep in ambush laid ; 
 With infant innocence he masked his guile, 
 Stabbed with a glance, and murdered with a smile. 
 As those deluded birds to death he drew. 
 So with his eye the smooth assassin slew.' 
 
MANUSCRIPT NOVEL. 287 
 
 The ancient Pythagorean doctrine of the metem- 
 psychosis, so pregnant with poetical associations, has 
 perhaps never been more gracefully used than by Mont- 
 gomery in these lines. The theme was suggested to the 
 poet by his friend Aston, who had read a paper which 
 appeared in the '' Iris," under the title of the ^^ Trans- 
 migrations of Indur," a being who describes his feelings 
 and adventures during several incarnations in the form 
 of different animals: a consciousness of his own per- 
 sonal individuality remaining in each phase of his brutal 
 existence.* The preface to this volume concludes with 
 an intimation that, '^ should these humble essays obtain 
 only a moderate share of public favour, the writer may 
 be emboldened to risk the publication of another more 
 voluminous work, which was also composed during the 
 long leisure of imprisonment." The '^ more voluminous 
 work," writes Montgomery to Mr. Holland, '' noticed in 
 the preface to the ' Prison Amusements,' was a Novel 
 in four volumes, written at various intervals between 
 1790 and 1796^ and entirely remodelled in the latter. 
 It has never seen daylight in print (nor in any other 
 sense, for twenty years past), nor shall it." '^ This 
 work,'' said he to the friend just mentioned, ^^ I intend 
 to burn ; and should have done so long since, but have 
 never yet had a heart to commit to the flames a manu- 
 
 * Among the poems which were much admired on their first 
 appearance m the " Prison Amusements," was the " Soliloquy of 
 a Water- Wao-tail on the Walls of York Castle." It is not very 
 easy to conceive how the verses under this title could find their 
 way into the memory of a royal personage ; and yet the burthen 
 of each stanza is so peculiar, that its echo, in the sixth and last 
 of the followino: lines, attributed to the Princess Amelia, almost 
 precludes the idea of the resemblance being merely accidental : — 
 
 '' Hear your sovereign's proclamation, 
 All good subjects, young and old; 
 
288 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 script which has at one period cost me so much labour 
 and anxiety." It was ultimately destroyed, as before 
 stated. 
 
 The ^^ History of Dedications '^ would form a curious 
 chapter in the annals of literature; especially if it were 
 possible to give a transcript of the feelings of a dedi- 
 cator through a graduated scale of success or disappoint- 
 ment, from the first appearance of an address or inscrip- 
 tion, to the period in which an author fixes in perpetuity, 
 or cancels for ever, the name of a patron or friend, which 
 in some moment of gratitude or of hope he had pub- 
 lished along with his own — but more ostentatiously — 
 as the harbinger or companion of his literary immor- 
 tality. 
 
 The ^^ Prison Amusements" were dedicated, appro- 
 priately enough, in the following terms : — 
 
 To Felix Vaughan^ Esq. 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Permit me to inscribe these trifles to you. They 
 would possess as much merit as they ought, were they 
 
 I'm the Lord of the Creation — 
 
 I — a Water- Wagtail bold! 
 All around, and all you see, 
 All the world was made for me," &c. — Montgomery. 
 
 " Unthinking, idle, wild, and young, 
 I laughed, and danced, and talked, and sung, 
 And proud of health, of freedom A^ain, 
 Dreamt not of sorrow, care, or pain, 
 ConcludinfT in those hours of glee 
 That all the world was made for me. 
 
 " But when the hour of trial came, 
 When sickness shook this trembling frame. 
 When Folly's gay pursuits were o'er. 
 And I could dance and sini^ no more. 
 It then occurred how sad 'twould be 
 Were this world only made for me." — Amelia. 
 
LETTER TO WORMALL. 289 
 
 worthy of your notice. Imperfect as they are, you will not 
 disdain to accept them as a tribute of grateful esteem from 
 one who is unfashionable enough to write a dedication 
 without flattery, though not so unfashionable as to conclude 
 without a compliment to himself, in telling the world that 
 he is, with sincere respect, 
 
 " Your obliged friend and servant, 
 
 ^^J. M." 
 
 This dedication Montgomery never reprinted, though 
 he always recollected with gratitude, and spoke with 
 pleasure of the powerful and eloquent though unsuc- 
 cessful appeals of this eminent barrister, on his own 
 trials.* 
 
 James Montgomery to Henry WormalL 
 
 "Sheffield, March 21. 1797. 
 
 ^'Dear Friend Henry, 
 
 ^' I was favoured with a very kind letter from you 
 last week, for which you will accept my cordial thanks. My 
 long silence has partly proceeded from constitutional indo- 
 lence at some times, and the hurry of business at other 
 times. I have had much ill health during the winter, which 
 reduced both my spirits and my constitution very low : but 
 I have not yet forgotten you, and your kind attention to me 
 in York Castle. The only return I can offer for your affec- 
 tionate services, is a grateful heart, which will never cease 
 to remember you, and pray for your happiness. 
 
 *^ I have enclosed, as a small token of my esteem, a copy 
 
 * This gentleman was suspected, at one time, to have been 
 more than merely professionally sincere in the sentiments which he 
 so eloquently delivered during the trial at York. He was, in fact, 
 supposed to be implicated with Home Tooke, Hardy, and others, 
 who were afterwards tried for high treason. This matter was 
 canvassed by the Privy Council, when it was ascertained that Felix 
 Vaughan had stopped short of the risks which others had run. It 
 was on this occasion that Mr. Dundas exclaimed, in the following 
 Latin verse, containing an appropriate play on the initial word — 
 "Felix cfiem faciunt aliena pericida cautumy 
 
 VOL. I. U 
 
290 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 of my ' Prison Amusements/ of which I beg your accept- 
 ance. The perusal of some pieces may be interesting to you; 
 they will bring the writer to your remembrance. I am very 
 sorry, though I cannot say I am surprised, to see that the 
 Bill in your favour has been thrown out in the House of 
 Commons, in a manner unworthy of that honourable House. 
 But this is a subject I mention of course, though I do not 
 like to dwell on it, as it necessarily connects with it the 
 melancholy idea that the long-expected period of your deli- 
 verance from captivity is not yet arrived. May Heaven, in 
 compassion to your unmerited sufferings, and as a reward of 
 your patient fortitude, hasten the happy moment of your 
 release ! May you soon, very soon, return to the bosom of 
 your dear family, and then from the peaceful shore of do- 
 mestic security you may look back with calm composure on 
 that sea of troubles, on which you have so long been tossed 
 without suffering shipwreck ! These are the fervent wishes of 
 my heart ; but wishes in this case are of no avail. 
 
 Perhaps, Henry, you and I may never meet again in this 
 world. This is a reflection which I cannot help indulging 
 whenever I think of you; and it sometimes brings tears into 
 my eyes : but should this be the case, — which God forbid ! — 
 be assured of my unchangeable esteem and friendship. If 
 my affairs will permit, I have some thoughts of a journey to 
 Scarbro' again next summer : my health requires it ; but I 
 cannot do altogether as I please, — if I could, I should have 
 visited you at the assizes. I wished very much to do so, 
 and had almost made up my mind ; but circumstances pre- 
 vented me. — I must conclude : pray write as soon, and as 
 often as you please, to 
 
 " Your faithful friend, 
 
 " J. Montgomery." 
 
 James Montgomery to his Brother Ignatius. 
 
 " Sheffield, March 27. 1797. 
 " My dear Brother, 
 
 " I have so long delayed writing to you, that I am 
 almost ashamed to write at all. Be assured, however, that my 
 
LETTEK TO IGNATIUS MONTGOMERY. 291 
 
 long and perhaps inexcusable silence has not been owing to 
 disrespect or want of affection. I think very often of you, 
 and never without feeling myself tenderly interested in your 
 welfare. Your last kind letter pleased me very much : I 
 learned from it that your mind is more tranquil than it ap- 
 peared to be at the renewal of our correspondence, when 
 you wrote to me in York Castle, and at Scarbro'. I have 
 suffered too much by indulging a natural and even habitual 
 melancholy, to encourage you to harbour any such gloomy 
 emotions : it unnerves the body and unmans the soul; quenches 
 all energy of character ; sinks every hope into despondency, 
 and renders the victim of its fury as burthensome to him- 
 self as he is useless to society. Shun it, my dear brother — 
 shun it by all means. Alas ! I cannot practise the advice I 
 am now administering to you. The difficulties and embar- 
 rassments of business often overwhelm me with care. The 
 disappointments and mortifications which hunt me through 
 life are continually torturing my mind. Sometimes I have 
 the courage to wrestle with this dangerous habit, and almost 
 overcome it for a few days ; but it returns to haunt me 
 again. I will drop this unwelcome subject. 
 
 " I am divorced from politics, as I think you yourself may 
 perceive by the complexion of my newspaper for these several 
 months past. I will never sacrifice my independence, nor 
 will I join the hue and cry of any party. My principles 
 are precisely the same as they always have been since I 
 could distinguish good and evil ; but I trust I understand 
 them better, and shall be enabled in future to practise them 
 with equal openness, but with more circumspection, than for- 
 merly. 
 
 " You will have perceived that I have published the little 
 volume of my ' Prison Amusements.' If you cannot point 
 out any more eligible mode of conveyance, I will send a few 
 copies for the persons with whose names you have favoured 
 me as subscribers, by the common carriers. I hope you 
 will not follow my bad example, but will write very soon 
 after receiving this. I declare, if I were not anxious to hear 
 from you, I should have scarcely written even now ; for, to 
 
 u 2 
 
292 MEMOIES OF JAMES MONTGOMEEY. 
 
 speak honestly, I am not fond of letter-writing, even to my 
 best friends ; but be assured there is nothing can give me 
 more sincere satisfaction than to receive letters from you» 
 
 " Your faithful friend and brother, 
 
 " J. Montgomery. 
 
 " Mr. Ignatius Montgomery, Bedford." 
 
 Ignatius afterwards became a teacher in the school 
 at Fulneck, where he remained until 1804^ when he 
 went in a similar capacity to Grace Hill. Before sail- 
 ing for Ireland, he solicited his elder brother's blessing, 
 which was imparted in these terms : — 
 
 " A blessing, brother, ere we part, 
 
 A farewell blessing you require : 
 O ! if there lives in this cold heart 
 
 One spark of all our father's fire ; 
 That spark, an humble sacrifice, • 
 
 In prayer for you I send above ; 
 'T will bring a blessing from the skies, 
 
 The blessing of the God or Love. 
 
 "Oct. 13. 1804." 
 
 Whether any other letters were addressed by Mont- 
 gomery to his Quaker friend at this period is uncertain 
 — we have found none. As w^e have stated, John 
 "Wilkinson died in prison ; the seven surviving Friends 
 were liberated, after having been confimed about two 
 years — liberated from gaol, but not freed from suflfer- 
 ing ; for distraints were still made upon their property 
 to satisfy ecclesiastical claims made against them. This 
 was especially the case with respect to Henry Wormall, 
 who ^^ continued after his enlargement to correspond 
 with Thomas Bulman " of Irthington, a good Quaker, 
 who had comforted his brethren by his Christian epistles 
 while they were in York Castle, ^^and whom he informs, 
 that when the distraint was made upon him, upwards 
 of 240/. were taken from him, which was nearly his 
 
LETTER TO WOKMALL. 293 
 
 all; but, adds he, ^ they returned my loife the cradle^ 
 and the rocMng chair' Such were the sparings of the 
 ruthless hand of ecclesiastical persecution ! "* 
 
 It appears, from the work just quoted, that Henry 
 Wormall, who had for several years taken the ^^ Shef- 
 field Iris," found his means so reduced, that he wrote 
 to Montgomery to discontinue sending the paper : the 
 latter replied immediately, as follows : — 
 
 James Montgomery to Henry WormalL 
 
 "Sheffield, Jan. 7. 1808. 
 " My deak Friend Henry, 
 
 ^^ I have just received your letter, which both de- 
 lighted and affected me exceedingly. The newspaper shall 
 be discontinued according to your order, but not my friend- 
 ship to you ; it does not hang on so slight a thread. No, 
 Henry ; I feel as if it was formed for eternity. Our hearts 
 have often flowed together, and been as one in conversation ; 
 and mine still burns within me whenever I write to you. 
 The money was right, and I thank you for it. I am very 
 sorry to learn that you have suffered so much affliction from 
 lameness ; but you trust in God — continue to trust in Him, 
 for He will never leave you nor forsake you. 
 
 ^' As a token of His remembrance, I have enclosed a five- 
 pound Bank of England note, which I hope will be season- 
 able and serviceable to you in your present low estate. 
 Accept it, Henry, not from me, but from Him who, though 
 He was rich, yet for our sakes He became poor, and by suf- 
 fering all the ills of poverty (for He had not whereon to 
 lay His head), sanctified them to His people. For His sake, 
 and in His name, receive it ; for His sake, and in His name, 
 I send it. I assure you, my dear friend, that I feel far more 
 pleasure in being, on this occasion, the minister of His 
 bounty to you, than I could possibly derive from any other 
 disposal of this small sum, which I considered to be as 
 sacredly your property, from the moment when He put it 
 
 * Life of Thomas Buhnan, p. 51. 
 
 u 3 
 
294 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 into my heart to send it, as it had been mine before. I can 
 well spare it from that little portion of worldly wealth of 
 which He has made me steward ; and I know that the pru- 
 dent use of it will add something to your temporal comforts. 
 But I am ashamed to say so much about ito God, who 
 gives it, bless it to you ! It will oblige me if you will in- 
 form me by post of its safe arrival in your hands. I shall 
 therefore anxiously expect to hear from you in the course 
 of a few days ; a single line will be sufficient ; I charge you 
 not to distress yourself with writing a long letter. Fare- 
 well. Peace to you and all your family, 
 
 " I am very truly your friend, 
 
 " James Montgomery.'' 
 
 We have two long letters addressed by Montgomery 
 to Aston in the month of March, both on general topics : 
 the next is dated July 8th, in which, after an elaborate 
 protest against imputed ^^ indifference" to the friendship 
 of his sensitive correspondent, the writer says : — 
 
 " Being summoned to attend a meeting of printers at 
 Tadcaster, I could not resist the temptation of proceeding 
 from thence to York, to revisit the place of my captivity; 
 to hail the venerable walls of my bastile; and once more 
 enjoy ' the pleasures of imprisonment/ There is a tender 
 melancholy pleasure in reviewing past misfortunes, and 
 tracing the scenes where we have formerly suffered. I feel 
 an affection for every spot of ground where I have been 
 unhappy; an attachment even to the dungeon which I en- 
 tered with horror, and quitted with transport : but dear to 
 my very soul is the snug little apartment, which I occupied 
 during the last five months of my captivity ;— the cage in 
 which I sang of sorrow, till sorrow became familiar and 
 delightful ! O, my dear friend, when distracted with the 
 cares of business, and wounded with the disappointments of 
 life, I lookback with tender recollection on my prison hours; 
 and had you not laughed me out of crying^ in your critique 
 on my novel, I could weep that they were past. I could 
 
LETTER TO ASTON. 295 
 
 fill a sheet with my observations and reflections, as I rambled 
 round the Castle-yard, and recognised the pleasing animals, 
 my former fellow-prisoners, who grazed on the green, and 
 which I used to feed with my hands. The buck — the poor, 
 battered, miserable buck — is grown plump, and strong, and 
 beautiful; and, I am informed, is a very good husband to 
 Nanny the doe, one of my most favourite companions — she 
 will soon become a mother. The little dog, who forsook his 
 friends and family in the city to come and live with me, 
 happened to be in the yard with his master when I entered ; 
 he recognised me in a moment, sprung into my arms, and 
 almost devoured me with joy!" 
 
 Acknowledging a letter from Aston, Montgomery 
 says, Aug. 20th: — 
 
 " You challenge me to meet you at Chapel-en-le-Frith. 
 I accept the gauntlet which you have thrown down ; I will 
 meet you —if 1 live. . . . Can I hope to obtain a favour 
 of you at our meeting ? Have you influence enough to 
 procure me a copy of the musical air which your friend has 
 been pleased to adapt to the simple warblings of my poor 
 Robin ? . . . I once was a smattering musician myself; I 
 thrummed the harpsichord for three years at school, and 
 afterwards almost blew out my ^razVz^ with — an hautboy! 
 I have, however, long neglected practising myself, but I am 
 passionately enamoured of good music." 
 
 This taste accompanied him through life, and was 
 manifestly of advantage to him as a hymnologist; but 
 we do not recollect that he anywhere mentions it in liis 
 published works — certainly nowhere so decisively as 
 in this letter. The meeting of the two friends took 
 place, as stated in an after letter, at Buxton ; and on 
 the 21st of September, Montgomery, in allusion to it, 
 says,— 
 
 " So far from having changed my opinion concerning my 
 Manchester correspondent, our late interview has confirmed 
 
 u 4 
 
296 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 every pleasing presentiment wliich I had entertained of your 
 manners, your conversation, and disposition : it has exalted 
 my friendsliip for your moral virtues, and improved my 
 esteem and respect for your talents. . . . One expression in 
 your letter struck me too forcibly to be passed by entirely 
 without notice. After remarking the general coincidence 
 of sentiment between us, and which I am sure you cannot 
 contemplate with more satisfaction than I do, you say you 
 do not include Faith. This is a delicate subject : I remem- 
 ber you once before — when I was at York — felt my pulse 
 on this head. I then, if I remember right, confessed, with 
 the confidence which your ingenuous conduct towards me 
 naturally inspired, that Religion was a theme cf such doubt 
 and perplexity to me, that I found it impossible to rest, in 
 any form of faith, my happiness in this world, and my hopes 
 in another. [Here follow five lines, obliterated in the 
 original letter.] I do not hesitate to say that a most solemn 
 conviction is impressed upon my heart, that Christianity — 
 pui^e, and humble, and holy, as we find it in the discourses of 
 Jesus and Plis apostles — is equally w^orthy of its Divine 
 Author, and beneficial to mankind. I believe no human 
 being, of any other profession, can ever be half so happy 
 as a true believer in it — and why ? Because his faith is 
 certain ; no doubt of the truth of his religion can possibly 
 remain on his mind ; whereas the most enlightened deistical 
 philosopher is at best but [half a line crossed out] a 
 half convert to the opinion he professes. He believes — not 
 that there is a God — that the soul of man is immortal, but 
 that there may be a God — that the soul of man may be im- 
 mortal : he hopes for, not expects, a day of retribution : 
 consequently the spur to his virtues is blunt, and the bridle 
 to his vices weaker than if he were assured of the future 
 reward of the one, and punishment of the other. But my 
 paper is full." 
 
 We have thought it best to give the foregoing pas- 
 sage ; it forms^ we believe, one of the strongest proofs 
 extant of that temporary relaxation of evangelical sen- 
 
EXTKACTS FROM LETTEHS TO ASTON. 297 
 
 timent, to which the writer so often adverted in after 
 Hfe with penitential tears and deep hnmiliation. His 
 correspondent — who was an Unitarian — would probably 
 have subscribed to every word of the above confession, 
 which rather halts beside than directly opposes ^^ the 
 truth, as it is in Jesus." 
 
 The friends met and spent a day or two together 
 at Castleton : and in a letter dated October 10th, Mont- 
 gomery writes to Aston : — ^^ I am anxious to hear 
 your opinion concerning the late events in France. I 
 know not precisely whether my reflections in the ^ Iris' 
 on that subject have been just : I wrote them, I can 
 honestly say, with at least as much sincerity as warmth ; 
 — but the aristocrats extol them to the skies ; they 
 are praised by all the powdered pates in Sheffield ; and 
 the ^ Iris ' is now called an excellent, an admirable, a 
 constitutional paper! Praise from such a quarter al- 
 most inclines me to suspect that I have gone too far ; 
 but my conscience sanctions every syllable which my 
 heart dictated on the occasion. I hate and abhor ty- 
 ranny under every form, and in every shape ; but in 
 none so much as under a Republican disguise: the 
 monster then becomes a hydra with a million heads." 
 In a lonof letter of a later date, he says to the same cor- 
 respondent : — " You do not know the thousandth part 
 of me. I am dull, melancholy, and phlegmatic by 
 nature ; and am grown indolent and ill-humoured by 
 habit. Disappointments at which you would laugh, in 
 the early period of my life have sickened all my hopes, 
 and clouded all my prospects ; my mind is grown quite 
 hypochondriacal ; and sunk in listlessness, or only roused 
 occasionally by the horrors of religious feelings, I lan- 
 guish away life without comfort to myself, or benefit to 
 others." 
 
298 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 During this and the following year, the editorial re- 
 marks in the ^^Iris" do not present any striking cha- 
 racteristics ; two reasons may be assigned for this : — 
 in the first place, Northall, proprietor of the rival 
 journal, became a bankrupt, and the paper in which 
 such rancorous hostility against Montgomery had been 
 manifested, unable to bear the price of sixpence instead 
 of fourpence, to which newspapers were now advanced 
 in consequence of additional taxation, was discontinued, 
 which put an end to much unpleasant and unprofit- 
 able collision. The principal cause, however, is ap- 
 parently to be found in the local interest excited by 
 the opening and endowment of the Shefiield General 
 Infirmary, recently erected. This event was of sufii- 
 cient importance to justify the attention and support 
 bestowed upon it by all parties * : and week after week 
 were the columns of the ^^ Iris " open to the details of 
 its progress, while the pen of the editor was unwearied 
 in advocating the objects of this noble asylum. He also 
 wrote a hymn, which was sung at its formal opening. f 
 
 On the evening of November 27th, the comedy of 
 ^^ The Wonder '^ was performed at the Theatre, Shefiield, 
 for the benefit of the Infirmary : the following Ejji- 
 logue^ written by Montgomery, was spoken on this oc- 
 casion: — 
 
 " While the bright sallies of the comic muse 
 A gay delight o'er all the scene diffuse ; 
 
 * It may be amushig to mention that this great and good work 
 did encounter one remora in the advertisement of Dr. Graham, 
 of " Earth-Bathing " notoriety. This redoubtable quack told the 
 inhabitants of Sheffield that he would disclose to them certain 
 " easily practicable matters," that would be of more real service 
 in saving life and limb, " than if he solely were to build and endow 
 the largest infirmary in the world ! " 
 
 I "When like a stranger on our sphere," &c. — Oing, Hymns. 
 
EPILOGUE TO COMEDY OF " THE WONDER." 299 
 
 While wit's quick lightning points Thalia's dart, 
 And wounds so sweetly, that it mends the heart ; 
 You, O my generous friends ! this evening know 
 Joys more refined than genius can bestow ; 
 Sublime sensations warm each feeling breast. 
 Thrice happy you ! because the poor are blest ! 
 For every smile that cheers this lively place 
 Shall kindle comfort in a mourner's face ! 
 Some pleasures sting — but this shall leave behind 
 A sweet memorial, soothing to the mind. 
 
 ^' Your bounteous hands have reared a friendly dome ; 
 For Want a refuge, for Disease a home ! 
 Now bid the springs of consolation flow 
 Through every channel of diffusive woe ! 
 Throw wide the portals ; — there let Mercy stand, 
 To welcome all the sorrow in the land ! 
 Compassion there shall kindly charm to rest 
 The aching head, and agonising breast ; 
 Quench the fierce fires that scorch the victim's veins, 
 Compose his horrors, and assuage his pains ; 
 With soft indulgence make the sick man's bed, 
 And gently pillow poor Misfortune's head ; 
 Stay the destroying angel's arm, to save 
 A sinking wretch, and disappoint the grave. 
 
 " To you, ye brilliant fair ! I now appeal, 
 Who gaily think, but exquisitely feel ; 
 Whom Nature formed of every smiling grace 
 To soften man, and humanise the race ! 
 While you with Love's almighty sceptre reign. 
 Your sway by kind Benevolence maintain ! 
 When that meek spirit dwells, a heavenly guest, 
 In the pure mansion of a female breast. 
 Quickens each nerve, each tender feeling fires, 
 Expands the heart, and all the soul inspires ; 
 Now rich in charms exalted Beauty glows, 
 A pitying angel in a wox'ld of woes ! 
 
300 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 V 
 
 Then beams the radiant eye with lovely light. 
 Clear as the moon amid the tranquil night ; 
 Mild as the star, that gilds the morn of May, 
 And powerful as the sun that rules the day ! 
 Earth knows no other object half so fair. 
 And heaven can scarcely boast a brighter there ! 
 
 " May every fair one thus improve her charms. 
 And him she loves be worthy of her arms ! 
 Then round Britannia's wave-embosomed isle 
 Shall Bounty triumph and Affection smile." 
 
 In connection with these records of Montgomery's 
 early advocacy of the interests of humanity^ may be 
 mentioned the kindness which he received at this period 
 from the late Dr. Browne, one of the most zealous and 
 efficient patrons of the Infirmary, as well as the urbane 
 and gentlemanly leader in most of the meetings of the 
 respectable inhabitants of Sheffield. To the memory 
 of this venerable man — one of the last members of the 
 ^^old school" in the place — Montgomery paid a just 
 and grateful tribute, at the close of his editorial career 
 in 1825. After adverting to '^the delirium of those 
 evil days, and that strife of evil tongues " which sur- 
 rounded him, and to tlie manner in which he was made 
 ^^ the heir to the treasured worth that was ready to 
 burst upon the head of his predecessor " Gales, Mont- 
 gomery thus proceeds : — 
 
 ■^* 
 
 '^ It is true, that, amidst all these tribulations, I had many 
 ardent and active friends, by whose help I was carried through 
 my legal adversities with small pecuniary loss, and with all 
 the consolation which kind offices could afford. One instance 
 of rare magnanimity I must mention — the late Dr. Browne 
 stood by me through every perplexity. He was then at the 
 head of the town, and having the command of all the public 
 business, he never failed to throw as much of it into my 
 hands as circumstances would warrant. What rivals soli- 
 
TRIBUTE TO DK. BROWNE. 301 
 
 cited, and enemies would have intercepted, be resolutely and 
 gratuitously bestowed upon me, tbougb I never asked a boon 
 of him, nor in any way compromised my own independence 
 to secure his patronage. Even when I was under prosecu- 
 tion, and in prison, at the instance of those with whom he 
 was politically connected, he never changed countenance 
 towards me, nor omitted an opportunity of serving me. The 
 resolutions and addresses of loyal meetings he has repeatedly 
 brought away with him to my office, jocularly telling me 
 what battles he had been fighting in my behalf to win them. 
 The manliness with which these favours were conferred, 
 gave them a grace and a value beyond what I could estimate 
 at the time, and probably secured for me a measure of per- 
 sonal respect in the town which otherwise I might not have 
 so easily obtained. It was in the crisis of my affairs, and 
 during the heedlessness of youth respecting ulterior con- 
 sequences, that he thus delicately and dexterously aided me, 
 both against my adversaries and myself. Meanwhile I did 
 not shrink from expressing my own opinions in the very 
 newspapers which he made the vehicle of his when at va- 
 riance with mine ; nor did I perceive that I lost his esteem 
 by such conduct. On one occasion, indeed (not political), 
 we had a misunderstanding respecting a point which he very 
 earnestly urged, but which I would not yield, because I was 
 confidently right, according to my most deliberate judgment. 
 This disagreement occurred during a personal interview at 
 his house ; but I had scarcely reached home, when I received 
 from him a conciliatory message, which did equal credit to 
 his candour and his condescension. This tribute I gladly 
 pay to the memory of the greatest public character that has 
 done honour or service to Sheffield ; and I should prove my- 
 self unworthy of his former regards, if I did not thus record 
 the name of Dr. Browne as one of my earliest, longest, and 
 best benefactors." 
 
302 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 CHAP. xxir. 
 
 1798. 
 
 VOLUNTARY CONTRIBUTIONS IN SUPPORT OF THE WAR. — MONTGOMERY'S 
 
 EDITORIAL INDEPENDENCE. OFFENDS DR. BROWNE. LETTERS TO 
 
 ASTON. "A THOUGHT." ODD FELLOWSHIP. REDHEAD YORKE AT 
 
 SHEFFIELD. PAUCITY OF POLITICAL COMJNIENT. "REMONSTRANCE 
 
 TO WINTER." — "loss OF THE LOCKS." 
 
 During this year, *^ voluntary contributions/' as they 
 v^ere called, were raised by most of the large towns in 
 the kingdom, to meet the exigencies of government in 
 defence of the country; in other words, to assist in 
 carrying on the war against France. The Editor of the 
 ^'Iris'^ had all along, in the most explicit and decisive 
 manner, protested against the hostilities which were 
 then raging between the belligerents throughout Eu- 
 rope ; and, in consequence of that sentiment, it was 
 now easy to put to the test his independence and in- 
 tegrity. He would, indeed, willingly have been silent 
 on the subject of these ^^ contributions ;" but neu- 
 trality was rendered impossible ; for he received from 
 a gentleman of the first respectability and influence in 
 the town of Sheflield the following paragraph, which 
 he was requested to insert, as his own^ in the news- 
 paper : — 
 
 i^The Voluntary Subsckiption for the defence of the 
 country, under the authority of Parliament, which was 
 opened at this place last week, has met with a general and 
 very spirited support. Indeed the success of it has been 
 
VOLUNTAEY CONTRIBUTIONS IN AID OF THE WAR. 303 
 
 such as must have equalled the warmest wishes of its ad- 
 vocates, who profess (however they may differ on other 
 political subjects) to subscribe, at this awful crisis, in defence 
 of the religion, laws, and constitution of their country, and 
 of its maritime power, trade, commerce, and agriculture, 
 when the destruction of the whole is openly threatened by 
 an insulting and ferocious foe — by an enemy so implacable 
 as to have repeatedly declared, that the constitution of this 
 country and that of France cannot be suflfered to exist at the 
 same time, and that, in consequence, "Delejida est Carthago ;' 
 meaning, " Britain must be completely conquered, and 
 
 HER boasted CONSTITUTION ANNIHILATED." 
 
 During the same week, he received another commu- 
 nication, in sentiment diametrically opposite to the 
 foregoing. This was an extract from the ^^ Morning 
 Chronicle/' including a speech of Mr. Windham^ in 
 1778, against voluntary contributions : both these ar- 
 ticles he did publish, in the following week, but accom- 
 panied by the following remarks : — 
 
 " The Editor of the ^ Iris ' frankly declares that he can 
 adopt neither of the preceding paragraphs as the expression 
 of his own sentiments on the measure of voluntary contri- 
 butions : yet such were the peculiar and perplexing circum- 
 stances of the case, that he could not have admitted the one 
 and rejected the other, without criminal duplicity — a mean- 
 ness of which he conceives he has never yet been guilty, as 
 a servant of the public — a meanness to which no terror nor 
 temptation shall compel or induce him to stoop. . . . The 
 Editor of the ''Iris,' like every other man who exercises 
 the privileges of a rational being, has an opinion of his own ; 
 but as it is of no more consequence to the public than that 
 of the humblest individual in the town, he chooses to be 
 silent concerning it. That opinion, however, to him is 
 sacred, and by him shall be preserved inviolate. The jus- 
 tice which he renders to others he demands for himself. 
 This will not be denied to him by that respectable portion of 
 
304 MEMOIKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 the community, consisting of persons as various in their 
 opinions as they are dissimilar in their looks, whose patron- 
 age alone an honest man would wish to deserve and to 
 secure. His highest ambition is, to discharge his duty — 
 his proudest boast, to preserve his independence. On this 
 delicate and embarrassing occasion he conceives that he has 
 fulfilled the former, and that he has not forfeited the latter. 
 But should he ever wilfully violate that duty, and meanly 
 sacrifice that independence, may the ^Iris' perish with in- 
 famy! May the curse of Cain alight on its Editor! May 
 he want a friend when he most needs him ! 
 
 " Perhaps at this moment he writes too warmly ; but he 
 writes as he feels on the subject. Never, while life and cha- 
 racter are dear to him, shall the hand that pens these lines 
 belie the heart that prompts them! In whatever light the 
 conduct of the Editor of the 'Iris' may be viewed by 
 others, he is determined to regulate it entirely by the dic- 
 tates of his own conscience. Then, if, while sailing between 
 the wind of one party and the waves of another, the little 
 vessel in which he and his fortunes are embarked should 
 be wrecked upon Scylla, or engulphed in Charybdis^ he may 
 smile at destruction, and exclaim, with triumphant tran- 
 quillity, ' Iivas not born^ Ihave not livedo I shall not die^ a 
 Demagogue or a Parasite T^^ 
 
 The resolution not to adopt, as his own, the senti- 
 ments of any individual — laudable in itself, and in- 
 variably acted upon by Montgomery — lost him, in the 
 issue, the powerful patronage and support of the gentle- 
 man alluded to, Dr. Browne. For although in this 
 particular case that venerable man got over the chagrin 
 of his first disappointment, another occasion occurred, 
 in which Montgomery again felt it to be his duty to act 
 independently, when, as already stated, he experienced 
 the grief, first, of suflfering hard reproaches from his 
 old friend; secondly, of receiving from him a formal 
 message of apology ; and, lastly, of knowing that he 
 
Ills EDITORIAL INDEPENDENCE. 305 
 
 had^ after all, lost the good-will, or at least the good 
 offices, of an influential individual. Nevertheless, he 
 persevered in his determination not to yield to personal 
 interference, and on no occasion, as we have said, did 
 fear, flattery, or compromise ever open the editorial 
 department of the '' Iris " to volunteer authorship ; at 
 the same time, its columns were ever most unreservedly 
 free to correspondents who chose to criticise his own 
 conduct or opinions, or for the sober and seasonable 
 discussion of topics of real interest and usefulness. 
 
 We have given the foregoing case, as in duty bound, 
 exactly as we find it, and we might fairly enough leave 
 it to the unbiassed judgment of the reader ; it seems, 
 however, if not to call for, at least to justify a passing 
 observation. With the opinions of those persons who 
 approved, or of those who opposed the war, we have 
 here nothing to do ; but it is not so easy to evade the 
 question of Montgomery's right to deal as he did with 
 his two conflicting correspondents, and with his as- 
 sumption of merit in so doing. The editor of a news- 
 paper is, without dispute, entitled to adopt either an 
 active or a neutral position in reference to politics in 
 general ; he is equally at liberty, as a conscientious 
 partisan, to take up the defence of views which may 
 be regarded as extreme by opponents in either direction, 
 or he may act and speak independently on all questions 
 as Montgomery did, and as most newspaper-writers 
 profess to do. It is quite as undeniable that no such 
 individual should, if he can help it, allow himself to 
 be trailed or trapped, drawn or driven into the avowal 
 of his sentiments on any point for merely idle or sinister 
 purposes ; but, on the other hand, there are great public 
 questions, involving the responsibility of immediate 
 action, concurrence or resistance, from the duty of 
 speaking out on which, a professed adviser of others 
 
 VOL. I. X 
 
306 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 cannot ordinarily shrink under the plea of neutrality, 
 much less of independence. And such a conjuncture 
 appears to have been that which fairly placed Mont- 
 gomery at issue with his two correspondents. Admit- 
 ting that he escaped, as he had a perfect right to 
 do, both horns of a formidable dilemma, it was only 
 by getting safely between them : meanwhile, those per- 
 sons who approved, and those who reprobated the 
 ^^ voluntary contribution," were alike allowed to impale 
 themselves, if for no better end, as a warning to each 
 other ! A more single-minded and truer-hearted in- 
 dividual than Montgomery did not exist ; but having 
 been twice, and so recently, victimised for alleged libels 
 on the war and its actors, he may unconsciously, if not 
 pardonably, have allowed discretion to take the form, 
 and use the language, of independence in the delicate 
 case before us. 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 "Sheffield, March 6. 1798. 
 
 ^^Dear Friend, 
 
 "... I have been nearly crazed during the last 
 fortnight with the din of jarring politicians. The mania of 
 Voluntary Contributions towards the promotion of this detes- 
 table war, has seized upon the inhabitants of Sheffield, as well 
 as in other loyal towns. There are, however, some persons of 
 the greatest wealth and consequence here, who warmly oppose 
 the measure. A kind of paper warfare has been carried on 
 between the two parties ; I have been employed by the 
 champions on both sides of the question, and have not ob- 
 jected to print rules, advertisements, &c., for either the one 
 or the other. But determined, at all events^ to preserve the 
 independence of the ' Iris ', I have peremptorily rejected 
 overtures from both sides to insert essays and paragraphs 
 either for or against the measure. This has exposed me to 
 a great deal of censure and illiberality from the violent of 
 both parties ; I have been alternately coaxed and threatened 
 
U A rn^^FT^XTrr. '> 
 
 A THOUGHT." 307 
 
 by each, but have hitherto inflexibly resisted their importu- 
 nities and despised their menaces. Circumstances of this 
 kind, however tranquil or moderate I may appear in pub- 
 lic, wound me in private to the quick. I am too humble to 
 despise the good opinion of the most insignificant of human 
 beings, but I am too proud to purchase patronage from the 
 most exalted by meanness and servility. On calmly re- 
 viewing my conduct, I am perfectly satisfied with it on this 
 occasion; but the exertion of such a haughty spirit of inde- 
 pendence has cost me inconceivable agony of mind. When 
 this ferment has subsided, I believe I shall not have lost one 
 well-wisher whose friendship was worth preserving. 
 
 And so, friend Aston! you can trace me even in ^A 
 Thought.' I imagined I had concealed myself very snugly 
 in so small a compass; but if I had reflected a moment, 
 I might have supposed that I should certainly be detected 
 when my 'Thought' expanded itself, and the ichole universe 
 be found m some corner of it ! 
 
 ''Your sincere and faithful friend, 
 
 " Mr. J. Aston, Manchester." 
 
 The following are the verses alluded to at the close 
 of the foregoing letter : — 
 
 " 'A Thought: 
 
 " While shadowy Night expands his starry wings, 
 And bears the brilUant moon upon his breast, 
 Beyond this scene of transitoiy things 
 My spirit soars, and all her sorrows rest. 
 
 " Come, Contemplation ! wonder- viewing maid ! 
 And lift sublime thine intellectual eye ; 
 See the blue galaxy of space displayed. 
 Behold the living glories of the sky ! 
 
 " In beautiful magnificence of light, 
 Le«"ions of radiant luminaries roll ; 
 Like flaming cherubim, with banners bright, 
 In triumph marching o'er the convex pole, 
 
 X 2 
 
308 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY, - 
 
 " Each twinkling beauty beams a mighty sun. 
 To circling worlds dispensing life and day ; 
 Worlds — that through pathless fields of ether run^ 
 By sister moons attended on their way. 
 
 "But who shall trace the dark, bewildering maze, 
 
 Where the free Wanderers of Creation roam — 
 That borrow, from a thousand suns, their blaze, 
 And make th' unbounded universe their home? 
 
 " Rise ! — rend the veil of this contracted sky; 
 Explore the secrets of the dread abyss ; 
 Dart through immensity a seraph's eye, 
 
 From earth's dim dungeon to the realms of bliss! 
 
 ^^ An awful vision overwhelms the sight ! 
 Where bold imagination never trod, — 
 The sun of suns, the native land of light. 
 
 All Nature's centre — stands The Throne of God ! 
 
 " His throne? — weak worm I where hast thou found His 
 Canst thou confine the Deity to place? [throne? 
 
 Know that He dwells within Himself alone, — 
 His time, eternity! — His presence, space!" 
 
 Montgomery says, in a letter to Aston, dated Sept. 22. 
 1798:— 
 
 ^^The present is a second edition of the age of marvels. I 
 have just been down to the Tontine Inn, to receive instructions 
 to print a large number of flaming posting bills, addressed 
 to ' The Enemies of Tyranny^ Plunder^ and Oppression^ in- 
 viting the Friends of ^ Liberty^ Religion^ and our glorious 
 Constitution^^ to rally round the standard of — of whom ? — 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Redhead Yorke! ! ! The regi- 
 ment is to be baptized ' The Sheffield and Manchester Fen- 
 cihles^ to serve in Great Britain and America, only during 
 the war. Mr. Yorke, I am informed (for I have not yet had 
 any confidential discourse with him), has been at Manchester 
 several weeks — but did not discover himself to his old friends, 
 the reformers." 
 
ODD FELLOWSHIP* 309 
 
 Besides the placarding of the walls with the " bills " 
 alluded to, there appeared in the '^ Iris " two co- 
 lumns of extract from Yorke's ^^ Letter to the Re- 
 formers/' which, according to the '' British Critic," 
 exhibited ^^ a full, honourable, and manly recantation 
 of those principles for the promulgation of which the 
 author had suffered a long imprisonment; as also an 
 attested account of his unsolicited appointment to a 
 lieutenant-colonelcy." But the contrast between the 
 ardent reform orator of yesterday, and the loyal re- 
 cruiting officer of to-day, was too violent for the '' men 
 of Sheffield : " they looked on, and laughed, but would 
 not enUst. 
 
 The quasi mysteries of ^' Odd Fellowship " had been 
 recently introduced into Sheffield ; and as the motives 
 and operations of all secret societies, more especially 
 the Freemasons and their congeners, were indicted for 
 *' conspiracy " in Professor Robison's remarkable 
 pubKcation, this precursor of a class of clubs, now 
 become so common under various names, was not ex- 
 empted from suspicion. Montgomery, on several occa- 
 sions, expressed opinions on the harmlessness, as well 
 as the whimsicalities of the order.* This year the 
 
 * " Amono: tlie oddities of this wonder-lovino^ a^-e, we learn 
 that a cluh of Odd Fellows has lately sprung up in this town. 
 With the laws and manners of this right whimsical society we are 
 only imperfectly acquainted. The line of oddity will no doubt 
 admit of as much variety as the Une of beauty, which nobody will 
 say is a wrong one, though every body is agreed that it is not a 
 right one. The Negro looks for beauty on a black skin, and the 
 European on a white one : oddity may be equally found in the 
 heart and in the head ; in a lono; nose — a short one — or no nose at 
 all ; in a cottage, or in a palace ; in a judge's wig, or in a bishop's 
 apron. Wishing these gentlemen every possible success in the 
 pursuit of eccentricities, we could not forbear remarking, on read- 
 ing their advertisement, that, odd as they may be in other respects, 
 
 X 3 
 
310 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Rev. G. Smith preached a sermon before the ^^ United 
 Lodge/' at the parish church, on which occasion the 
 verses entitled '' Religion, an occasional Hymn*/' were 
 written and smig. This sermon became the subject of 
 much conversation, and of some illiberal strictures ; in 
 consequence of which, the editor of the ^^ Iris " entered 
 into rather an elaborate justification of his reverend 
 friend. The following are the concluding para- 
 graphs : — 
 
 " The name of the society of Odd Fellows has been se- 
 riously censured. But what are names ? You may christen 
 your pointer, Plato — but is Plato therefore a philosopher ? 
 The pointer, in his language, may dignify his master with 
 the name of Bow Woio — but is Boiv Wow therefore a dog ? 
 There hves not a man who regards with more sovereign 
 indifference the pageantry of public processions than the 
 writer ; but if others delight in such harmless amusements, 
 a noble mind would equally disdain to envy or abridge their 
 pleasure. 
 
 " In conclusion, as the appearance of secrecy naturally 
 awakens jealousy, let the public vigilantly watch the pro- 
 ceedings of this eccentric fraternity, and let the latter se- 
 verely scrutinise their own conduct, guard against impru- 
 dence, and study so to live, that whatever their enemies 
 may say to their discredit, none shall believe them. Then, 
 
 they are at least even with all other clubs in the essential article 
 of celebrating a Feast ! Indeed, without eating and drinking 
 we know not how the soul and body of any club, corporation, or 
 society could be kept together. A feast ties a knot which Father 
 Time himself could sooner cut asunder than unloose. When a 
 man is born there is a feast! when he is married there is a feast ! 
 when he dies there is a feast! — even in the grave there is a feast! 
 of which the master does not partake, though he has the happiness 
 to be present — a feast for his brethren and sisters, the worms." 
 —Iris, Sept. 1796. 
 * AVorks, p. 265. 
 
LETTER TO ASTON. 311 
 
 to borrow the beautiful metaphor of the text, men shall no 
 longer prize the tree by the whistling of the winds of ca- 
 lumny that agitate its branches, but ' hy their fruits shall 
 they be known^ Propitious rain and sunshine cannot mel- 
 low away the asperity of the bramble, and tempt forth 
 grapes from his reluctant stem ; nor can seasons the most 
 inclement, and a soil the most sterile, compel the generous 
 vine to change her nature, and put forth thorns. May this 
 injured society be a cultivated inclosure, where vines and 
 olives flourish in luxuriant pride, untainted by the mildew 
 of detraction, striking roots amidst tempests, and bearings 
 in redundant profusion, the blessed fruits of Friendship, 
 Love, and Truth ! " So much for Odd Fellows. 
 
 In the following letter, we not only perceive some- 
 thing of the writer's trepidation of mind, immediately 
 after his escape from some apprehended or threatened 
 prosecution, but we have an affecting glimpse of his 
 mental sufferings at this time, from a source of deeper 
 trial — a wounded spirit ; and to this must obviously be 
 attributed much of the melancholy which, whatever 
 the tone of his verse, marked his epistolary commu- 
 nications at this period. While reading what follows, 
 it is impossible not to lament that his correspondent, 
 amiable and intelligent as he was, could not point his 
 friend to the true and only fountain of comfort, to 
 which he was presently directed by the despised Me- 
 thodist preachers. 
 
 James Montgomery to Joseph Aston. 
 
 " Sheffield, Feb. 23. 1799. 
 
 '' My bear Friend, 
 
 " Since I wrote to you last, I have suffered much 
 
 anxiety, and enjoyed little repose in my own bosom. I feel 
 
 myself at the present moment (between 11 and 12 o'clock 
 
 on Saturday night), moral[ising] and melancholy. I will 
 
 therefore, as far as this paper will permit, ease my mind in 
 
 some small degree, by unveiling some of its weaknesses, 
 
 X 4 
 
312 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MOKTGOMERY. 
 
 its follies, its vices to you. The eye of Friendship will look 
 with tender and indulgent compassion upon them ; and I 
 know that the heart of Friendship will generously sympa- 
 thise with the sufferings, which by the cold head of Reason 
 may be contemplated with scorn and contempt. Imaginary 
 they may be called ; but in my opinion, imaginary ills are 
 the most real^ because of all others the most inveterate and 
 incurable. A disorder that preys upon the body is quickly 
 cured, or soon wears it away into primitive dust : the worm 
 that gnaws the vitals of the soulj partakes of its essence — of 
 its immortality! 
 
 '- There are three springs of everlasting uneasiness per- 
 petually flowing in my bosom — the cares of life, ambition 
 of fame, and, the worst, the most deplorable of all — reli- 
 gious horrors. With regard to the first, — in my business, 
 chained as I am, like Prometheus to the rock, the vulture 
 of care feeds on my bowels. Since I wrote in September, 
 I have suffered in my mind what I would not again undergo 
 for any temptation which lucre could offer. You may guess 
 what were my sensations, when I tell you, that from the 
 middle of November to the latter end of January, for a 
 trifle which men of firmer minds would have laughed at, I 
 tortured myself with the agonising apprehensions of again 
 being dragged to Doncaster Sessions. I cannot give you 
 further explanation here ; the danger is now past, and the 
 spirit of alarm which harassed my dreams by night, and my 
 reveries by day, is laid to rest. I tremble to tread upon its 
 grave, lest the pressure of my foot should awaken it again. 
 
 ^' On the second point — my mad ambition, — ever since 
 last August, my brain has been in the state of Vesuvius 
 during the crisis of eruption. I have been labouring con- 
 tinually upon a spot of Parnassus, which promises to be as 
 unfruitful, as ungrateful to me, as the most barren field I 
 ever cultivated there before. As my plan is still imperfect, 
 and the issue in suspense, I shall wait a little longer before 
 I reveal it to you. If I be successful, I am sure of your 
 congratulations ; if I be unfortunate, you shall judge whether 
 1 deserved to be so. 
 
PAUCITY OF rOLITICAL COMMENT. 313 
 
 '' On the last Lead — my religious horrors — I will be can- 
 did, as I have always endeavoured to be to you. [[Here 
 followed five lines, which are blotted out in the original 
 letter — they probably refer to the happy experience of his 
 early piety at school.] Such has been my education — such, 
 I will venture to say, has been my experience in the morn- 
 ing of life — that I can never, never entirely reject it, and 
 embrace any system of morality not grounded upon that 
 revelation. What can I do ? I am tossed to and fro on a 
 sea of doubts and perplexities ; the further I am carried 
 from that shore where once I was happily moored, the weaker 
 grow my hopes of ever reaching another where I may anchor 
 in safety ; at the same time, my hopes of returning to the 
 harbour I have left are diminished in proportion. This is 
 the present state of my mind ! I do not know whether you 
 will be able, from this hasty, imperfect sketch, to understand 
 your friend any better : I cannot expect that it will increase 
 your esteem ; but I trust, though it may make you think less 
 highly, it won't induce you to think less kindly, of 
 
 " Your sincere and affectionate friend, 
 
 " J. M. G. 
 
 " Mr. Aston, Mauchcster." 
 
 Whether the ^* dread of a prison/' which seems to 
 have haunted the editor of the ^^ Iris/' like a ghost, or 
 a mere unwillingness to oppose his own views on the 
 war question to those of his fellow-countrymen, who 
 were at least paying a heavy price for their sincerity, 
 had most to do in restraining his pen at this period, we 
 pretend not to say; the paucity of his political com- 
 ments is certainly remarkable throughout both this and 
 the preceding year. The assessed taxes are tripled ; 
 while on the European continent, in Egypt and else- 
 where^ the most momentous military and naval move- 
 ments are taking place ; the Habeas Corpus Act sus- 
 pended, volunteers are raised, the income-tax doubled ; 
 and yet these movements, in every way so important 
 and exciting, scarcely provoke a dozen paragraphs iu 
 
314 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 the form of '' leaders/' during the current twenty-four 
 months of which our pages present this brief record. 
 The place in his newspaper previously and afterwards 
 allotted to political comments, was at this period mostly 
 occupied with articles on the Infirmary, other local 
 charities, and — the theatre ! 
 
 In April appeared the ^^ Remonstrance to Winter/' * 
 which was unusually protracted and severe, having 
 ^^ commenced in the first week of November, and con- 
 tinued till the first week in May : " Jior, as he said, 
 judging from the oflerings of his poetical correspon- 
 dents, ^' does the vernal season appear to have been 
 more genial in the regions of Parnassus." In July he 
 published, under the title of " Edmund and Ella," his 
 tradition of '' The Vigil of St. Mark."t 
 
 From a passage in a brief memoir of Montgomery, 
 published many years ago, curiosity was raised by an 
 allusion to, and extract from a poem, which was not 
 only projected and executed, but of which nearly the en- 
 tire printed edition was destroyed by the author. This 
 procedure, so creditable to IMontgomery, was not equally 
 satisfactory to some of his friends : though he told us 
 that he believed Dr. Aikin, Mr. Rhodes, and another 
 individual who never acknowledged the present, were 
 the only persons who at that time had seen the volume. 
 When, in after years, a similar uncorrected copy was 
 placed in our hands by the author, it was accompanied 
 with an injunction, that we would not, on any account, 
 allow it to be transcribed or reprinted, either wholly 
 or in part, as he intended, at some future time, so to cut 
 down and correct it, as to make it a readable poem ; 
 and probably print it himself, in order to prevent any 
 
 * Works, p. 263., where eleven verses represent the seventeen 
 ori^iiiiilly printed. 
 t AVorks, p. 219. 
 
^^ LOSS OF THE LOCKS.'' 315 
 
 surreptitious or malicious publication of a work the 
 existence of which, in its original shape, was to him a 
 source of regret. 
 
 The history of this composition was as follows. In 
 Dr. Anderson's ^^ Bee" (vol. xii. p. 76.), some account 
 is given of a mineral found in Siberia, which is com- 
 posed of fine threads of red shorl inclosed by nature in 
 transparent rock-crystal : these, when regularly dis- 
 posed, as they sometimes happen to be, resemble those 
 tresses of real hair so often put into lockets or brooches, 
 in honour of some friend, relative, or lover. This lusus 
 naturcBy soon after its discovery, was aptly named die- 
 veux de Venus (Yenus's hair), from its colour somewhat 
 resembling that given by the poets to the Goddess of 
 Beauty. Another variety of this elegant stone which 
 has been discovered, containing green instead of red 
 tresses, acquired the appellation of '' Thetis's hair." 
 
 In the same number of the '' Bee " (Nov. 14. 1792), 
 a correspondent, signing himself '^ Arcticus," and who 
 was in reality Dr. Guthrie, physician to the Imperial 
 Cadet Corps at St. Petersburg, the author of several 
 useful mineralogical papers, offered, as prizes for poetical 
 competition, two fine ring-stones of the substances al- 
 luded to, — ^^ The first, for the best classical fable of that 
 fair jilt's [Venus] trip to Siberia, and the manner she 
 left her golden locks in a crystal rock. The second, a 
 ring-stone of the sea-goddess's hair, whom they [the 
 poets] must get to Siberia as they can, or the offered 
 stone, its production, will not be within their reach." 
 The gems were in the hands of Dr. Anderson, but what 
 became of them does not appear ; there is no record in 
 the '^ Bee " of either adjudication of, or poetical com- 
 petition for the prizes.* 
 
 * In the notes '' To Correspondents," in the " Bee," vol. xv. 
 p. 152., di prose composition on the subject is acknowledged. 
 
316 MEMOIRS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Accidentally meeting with the volume containing the 
 account of these curious Russian minerals, some time 
 after the periodical had dropped, Montgomery amused 
 his imagination with tracing their origin in the fable 
 before us. It was a work of haste ; for, as he once 
 told us, " Though the introductory lines were written 
 five years before the publication of the poem in the 
 * Iris,' in December 1799, the remainder was composed 
 week by week, as it was wanted by the compositor." 
 
 A corrected copy of the work alluded to having been 
 latterly placed in our hands by the author, and without 
 any restriction either expressed or implied as to the use 
 which might be made of it, we shall print it entire at 
 the end of this volume. We do this for two reasons : in 
 the first place, because, as there could be no difficulty in 
 obtaining copies, its present appearance may neutralise 
 the temptation to re-issue the piece in its originally ob- 
 jectionable form ; and, secondly, because it is worth pre- 
 servation for its own sake, as a spirited and ingenious 
 poem ; for, however little entertainment the public may 
 have missed by its temporary suppression on the one 
 hand, it will perhaps, on the other hand, be" admitted 
 that, while widely different from the later and more 
 chaste productions of Montgomery's pen, it is less 
 discreditable to the author than some persons have 
 imagined. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 THE LOSS OF THE LOCKS: 
 
 A SIBERIAN TALE. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 Once on a time, — and you may know 
 'Tis now three thousand years ago, 
 Near ancient Troy, — though when and where, 
 To us is neither here nor there ; 
 Who dare dispute the truth of fable ? 
 When once a poet slips his cable, 
 He scuds away before the wind, 
 While in their cockboats, far behind, 
 Critics in vain pursue the chase, 
 Distanced alike in time and place- 
 So the proud swan triumphant sails. 
 While ducks at distance wag their tails. 
 
 Achilles dead, his mother Thetis 
 Bewailed her son in dismal ditties ; 
 And mourned her own immortal lot. 
 Since he could die and she could not. 
 Around her cave a beauteous throng 
 Of mermaids poured the plaintive song, 
 And all the tears of those sweet girls 
 Were metamorphosed into pearls ; 
 Which as they fell they caught with care, 
 And strung them on their sea-green hair. 
 
318 APPENDIX. 
 
 Stern Neptune shared his daughter's pain. 
 And Amphitrite shrieked amain ; 
 Through all the sea the sorrow ran, 
 The Tritons blubbered to a man. 
 The billows heaved with such emotion, 
 There seemed an earthquake in the ocean ; 
 While, blest in vain with hearts of stone. 
 Relenting rocks returned the moan. 
 Rapacious sharks released their prey, 
 And swooned delightfully away ; 
 Herrings, like floating islands, hung 
 In listening millions on her tongue ; 
 And sentimental shrimps did languish 
 In all the ecstasy of anguish ; 
 Unwieldy turtles bounced their best. 
 And seemed deliciously distrest ; 
 E'en sympathising lobsters wailed, 
 And wondered what their pincers ailed ; 
 Oysters lay gasping in their beds. 
 And cockles shook their sapient heads ; 
 Crabs clasped their claws, with frantic air, 
 In all the pathos of despair ! 
 
 At length the tide, that flowed so high, 
 Began to ebb in every eye ; 
 Thetis resolved to seek relief, 
 And in a voyage drown her grief. 
 The Dame was soon equipt for sea, 
 (A tighter vessel could not be^) 
 And all her sorrows, all her charms, 
 Committed to her legs and arms ; 
 No seventy-four, with all its trimming. 
 Was ever more expert at swimming : 
 Though wild and high the surges swelled. 
 Her lightest touch their wrath repelled. 
 A fleet of dolphins formed her train. 
 And gaily gambolled through the main. 
 Swift as the moon's awakening beam, 
 Swift as a disappearing dream, 
 
iiTr^t^Ci ^^ r^^^ ^ ^^^^r. 99 
 
 LOSS OF THE LOCKS." 319 
 
 Swift as the whirlwind sweeps the sky, 
 Swift as a spider snaps a flj. 
 So swift along the yielding spray 
 Her gallant elbows won their way. 
 As when the moon and starry host. 
 On heaven's tempestuous ocean tost. 
 Bathe their bright forms in billowy clouds, 
 Then start in splendour from their shrouds, 
 And braving wind and weather bleak, 
 Play all night long at hide and seek, 
 Thus Thetis with her dolphin-crew, 
 Alternate rose and sunk from view. 
 Now in the whelming gulf concealed. 
 Then fresh in rosy Woom revealed, 
 Light o'er the glistening wave she glides. 
 With glowing cheek, and panting sides. 
 Waves her green locks, and winds her limbs 
 The surface circling as she swims ; 
 Fond Ocean clasped her on his breast, 
 And bore her blushino: to the West. 
 
 -9 
 
 't) 
 
 O for immortal Homer's fire. 
 Or humbler Virgil's sweeter lyre. 
 To sing, in strains that wildly weep, 
 My Lady's dangers in the deep ! 
 How like ^neas and Ulysses, 
 From Scylla's fangs and Circe's kisses. 
 From self-consuming Etna's rage. 
 From Polyphemus' dreadful cage, 
 Ten thousand thousand perils past. 
 She fled, — she triumphed to the last ! 
 
 Now reaching that divided strand. 
 Where Hercules' huge pillars stand. 
 Where proud Gibraltar bullies Spain, 
 She shoots into the western main ; 
 And there her dolphin-train dismisses, 
 With briny tears and balmy kisses. 
 
320 APPENDIX. 
 
 Now tost about by tempests frantic. 
 
 She stoutly stems the fierce Atlantic ; 
 
 And all alone, undaunted braves 
 
 The roaring wilderness of waves. 
 
 Yet Lisbon's rock she shuns with care, — 
 
 She dreads the Inquisition there ! 
 
 Nor nearer Gallia's coast is seen, — 
 
 She fears no less the guillotine ! 
 
 But ! she hails, with proud emotion, 
 
 The mighty magnet of the ocean. 
 
 That rules the waves where'er they roll, 
 
 From sun to sun, from pole to pole — 
 
 That sweet, sequestered island-realm. 
 
 Where George the Third directs the helm ! 
 
 " The Inquisition ? — George the Third ? — 
 The guillotine ? — absurd ! absurd ! 
 Did ever such abortive blunders 
 Disgrace the vilest ' Tale of Wonders,' 
 Born in despite of Nature's law, 
 When Bedlam brains were in the straw ? 
 What can the crazy scribbler mean ?" — 
 To leave you. to the guillotine ; 
 And in the teeth of railing knaves, 
 To follow Thetis through the waves. 
 
 Now dashing through the Straits of Dover, 
 The German Ocean crossins: over, 
 Lapland's remotest point she doubles — 
 There falls into a sea of troubles. 
 Her courage now begins to fail her. 
 Islands of floating ice assail her. 
 Bulge her sweet ribs with barbarous shocks, 
 Amidst the crash of falling rocks ; 
 Not Jove himself was more embarrassed^ 
 When, by rebellious Titans harassed. 
 The mountains rattled round his ears. 
 And spoiled the music of the spheres. 
 
^^LOSS OF THE LOCKSo" ^ 321 
 
 The goddess thus besieged around, 
 Sighs for a foot of solid ground, 
 Strains every sinew, spends her strength, 
 And in Siberia lands at lensfth. 
 What strange adventures there beft;l, 
 The Muse another time shall tell ; 
 After such tossing on the billows, 
 My readers languish for their pillows : 
 Go, gentle friends, and slumber free 
 From all the dangers of the sea, 
 For mightier perils, still in store. 
 The Fates reserve for you on shore. 
 
 CANTO IL 
 
 The goddess rising with a smile. 
 Like Egypt from the waves of Nile, 
 Fresh from the renovating flood. 
 On the bleak beach astonished stood ; 
 When, all around her, she descried 
 A ghastly region, wild and wide, 
 Whose flowerless hills, and famished flocks, 
 Were howling wolves and horrid rocks ; 
 While chill and wintry blew the breeze, 
 O'er icy lakes and leafless trees. 
 Then rushed on her dejected mind. 
 The classic scenes she left behind, — 
 The shores of Greece, the Trojan plain, 
 The islands of the ^gean main. 
 Those lovely infants of the deep, 
 On Ocean's lap that smile and sleep ! 
 Then sobs convulsive shook her breast, 
 Warm gushed the tears, too long represt, 
 VOL. I Y 
 
322 APPENDIX. 
 
 And, paler than the polar snow, 
 She looked unutterable woe. 
 
 Now sweetly sailing with the wind, 
 Soft on a rosy cloud reclined, 
 Pensive and pale, and unattended, 
 The Queen of Love from heaven descended. 
 At her approach the hideous wild 
 With melancholy pleasure smiled ; 
 Thus from the womb of ancient Night, 
 All beauteous sprang created Light ; 
 The infant smiled the mother dead. 
 Chaos beheld his son — and fled ! 
 
 The ladies met with marvelling eyes, 
 That spoke unspeakable surprise ; 
 Thetis at length the silence brake. 
 And thus the gentle goddess spake: — 
 " Well ! by the polar star, my dear, 
 What doth the Queen of Beauty here ? 
 Did e'er immortal dame before 
 Run foul of such a rough lee-shore ? " 
 
 Venus replied, in accents low, 
 Light as the flakes of falling snow: — 
 ^' While sporting in the fields of air. 
 All in a curricle and pair, 
 A vulture scared my harnessed doves. 
 And put to flight the pretty loves. 
 In vain I strove with softest words 
 To soothe my poor affrighted birds ; 
 With trembling hand I tried in vain 
 To check them with the silken rein : 
 My winged steeds, — more wild than they 
 That whirled the chariot of the day, 
 When young Apollo set the spheres 
 All in a blaze about our ears, — 
 Their fainting mistress bore on high, 
 Through many a thousand miles of sky ; 
 
"LOSS OF THE LOCKS." 323 
 
 Till reaching Winter's dire dominions, 
 
 Dead dropped my doves, with powerless pinions : 
 
 I fell ! — a cloud to save me flew, 
 
 And kindly wafted me to you !" 
 
 While Venus told her tender tale, 
 Thetis by turns grew red and pale ; 
 At length she cried, — but scarce could speak, 
 For both her eyes had sprung a leak, — . 
 " All's well at last, but by this light. 
 Where, comrade, shall we mess to-night ? 
 The moon you see, o'er yonder vale, 
 Hath just weighed anchor and set sail; 
 Her fleet of stars are all afloat. 
 Each in his little jolly-boat ! " 
 
 '^ Behold," quoth Venus, " where a cavern 
 Invites us like a friendly tavern." 
 
 " Crowd every sail then, at a venture,'^ 
 Cried Thetis, " helm's a-lee, and enter V 
 
 Reaching the grotto in a minute. 
 The ladies went to roost within it ; 
 But ah ! for lack of feather beds, 
 They made their pillows of their heads, 
 Unbound their locks divinely fair^ 
 Veiled their fine limbs in mantling hair. 
 And slept in sheets of snow so nice, 
 With blankets of the purest ice, . 
 All comfortable, cold, and clean — 
 Strange berths for goddesses I ween ! 
 Yet there, in Winter's frozen lap. 
 Unguarded Beauty stole a nap ; 
 Thus red and white, through withering snows, 
 The lovely laurustinus blows. 
 
 On twilight mountains, stretched afar. 
 That freeze beneath the polar star, 
 In wild and melancholy state, 
 A beldame grasps the shears of fate ; 
 
 T 2 
 
324 APPENDIX. 
 
 A witch of such tremendous skill, 
 
 She wields the elements at will ! 
 
 With man she claims a kindred birth, 
 
 Her limbs, like his, were formed from earth ; 
 
 The quickening air her breath supplies, 
 
 And fire and water are her eyes ; 
 
 Darkness her veil, her face is light, 
 
 Her motion day, her slumber night. 
 
 Her varying moods the Seasons bring, 
 
 She blushes summer, smiles the spring ; 
 
 'Tis autumn when she looks serene. 
 
 And winter when she has the spleen. 
 
 The morning strews her path with flowers. 
 
 Which evening bathes in balmy showers ; 
 
 In her the warbling birds rejoice, 
 
 For all their music is her voice. 
 
 Ancient as Time, unchanged as Truth, 
 
 She glories in perennial youth ; 
 
 Her floating garments grace the skies, 
 
 Clouds of a thousand forms and dyes. 
 
 When midnight meteors glance and glare, 
 
 She shakes her scintillating hair ; 
 
 When horrible eclipses happen, 
 
 'Tis then she puts her conjuring cap on ! 
 
 She lends the wandering planets wings, 
 
 Holds the fixed stars in leading strings. 
 
 And coins new moons, as kings do gold. 
 
 From the light clippings of the old. 
 
 The sun obeys her daily motion ; 
 
 Her footsteps petrify the ocean ; 
 
 The undulations of the tides 
 
 Are but the heaving of her sides ; 
 
 The willing winds her yoke obey. 
 
 Hailstorms and tempests cleave her way ; 
 
 And eager lightnings, prompt to fly, 
 
 Pause on the twinkle of her eye ; 
 
 Deep roll the thunders round her head. 
 
 And earthquakes tremble at her tread ! 
 
^*^LOSS OF THE LOCKS." 325 
 
 But what can speak her boundless fame ? 
 A word ! — for Natuhe is her name ! 
 
 The reader^ big with expectation, 
 Stands like a note of admiration ! 
 Why glare those unbelieving eyes ? 
 Poets are licensed to surprise : 
 Shall Aristotle or Longinus, 
 To reasonable bounds confine us ? 
 The bard has neither wit nor sense, 
 Who cannot oft with both dispense. 
 Know too, in this enlightened age. 
 The marvellous is all the rage : 
 Monsters as naturally are bred 
 As maggots in a scribbler's head. 
 While little limits do contain 
 A mighty wilderness of brain, 
 Whence fiends and forms, more grim to view 
 Than Lybian deserts ever knew. 
 Rush o'er the realms of Truth and Taste, 
 And lay the world of reading waste ! 
 Genius itself, in wild weeds clad. 
 With insipidity run mad. 
 And moon-eyed Nonsense, staring blind, 
 Have so bewitched the public mind. 
 That authors must^ in times like these, 
 Work miracles for bread and cheese, 
 Like conjurors amuse the many. 
 And raise the devil to raise a penny ! 
 
 Hold, let us take a little breath. 
 Nor, swan-like, sing ourselves to death : 
 With Mother Nature newly drawn, 
 We'll leave the goddesses in pawn ; 
 But soon in canto third and last. 
 Make full atonement for the past; 
 And to redeem our lovely pledges. 
 Break down all Aristotle's hedges. 
 
 T 3 
 
326 APPENDIX. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 Great Nature now, transcendent queen. 
 Enters our wild Siberian scene ; 
 Around in hushed attention lies. 
 The theatre of earth and skies ; 
 Not deeper silence, darker gloom, 
 Lull the cold region of the tomb. 
 Marshalled in dreadful ranks at hand. 
 The elements on tiptoe stand. 
 Spirits that earth and ocean fill, 
 Or work in fire and air her will ; 
 Impatient each to prove his power, 
 And rule, the tyrant of the hour, 
 Yet trembling with mysterious awe, 
 Live on her look — her look their law! 
 
 She came : the clouds before her sight, 
 Undrew the curtains of the night ; 
 The smiling moon, and stars serene, 
 Bowed in bright homage to their queen ; 
 Gay northern glories o'er the sky 
 Broke from the lightning of her eye ; 
 While all the hoary hills below 
 Shone in the majesty of snow ; 
 The echoing vales with music rang, 
 For bears and wolves in concert sang ; 
 Shrill piped the gale, and hoarse and deep 
 The waves responded in their sleep. 
 Pleased with the scene, th' enchantress smiled 
 In boundless beauty o'er the wild. 
 Then, lest its charms too soon be lost, 
 Bound the resplendent night in frost ! 
 Her awful head she then declined, 
 And sunk to stillness with the wind ; 
 Cold o'er her nerves the numbness crept, 
 And chilled her heart-strings — Nature slept ! 
 Outstretched she lay, from west to east. 
 Six thousand English miles at least: 
 
'^LOSS OF THE LOCKS." 327 
 
 From gloomy Greenland's coast forlorn. 
 To where Kamtschatka hails the morn, 
 The lady's longitude extended, — 
 And there the frost began and ended ! 
 
 " How dare you libel Nature thus ? 
 Think not to pass such dreams on us !" 
 Nay, critics, do not storm about her. 
 We could not make a frost without her ; 
 And bards, for lack of better means, 
 Are privileged to use machines : 
 The Muse had sworn, whate'er the cost, 
 To pawn Parnassus for a frost ; 
 A frost the story did require. 
 Though frost had set the world on fire! 
 
 When o'er the hills the morning broke, 
 Thetis and Cytherea 'woke. 
 But vainly struggled in their beds. 
 To loose their limbs, and lift their heads ; 
 Those heads that lent their ample tresses, 
 To wind those limbs in soft undresses, 
 Those heads the tyrant Frost had bound. 
 Those limbs enchanted to the ground, 
 Congealed in ice those radiant locks. 
 And fixed the goddesses on rocks. 
 
 Thus Gulliver, as Swift relates, — 
 The shuttlecock of adverse fates, — 
 By winds and waves, with dire commotion, 
 Borne o'er the solitude of ocean, 
 Landed at length his luckless foot 
 On the sweet shore of Lilliput ; 
 Where, like a weather-beaten ass. 
 He couched and slumbered on the grass ; 
 But waking soon, with horror found 
 His limbs in cobweb-cables bound. 
 By every hair upon his head 
 Chained fast to his terrestrial bed! 
 
328 APPENDIX. 
 
 With lucid ice encrusted round, 
 Like flies in beauteous amber found, 
 Our dames, in cold confinement pent ; 
 
 By Nature's act of parliament, 
 Pled Magna Charta to no purpose. 
 And sued in vain for Habeas Corpus ; 
 Ah ! who with Nature can contend. 
 And hope to triumph in the end ? 
 If at the door the witch you spurn. 
 Quick through the window she'll return ; 
 Driven from the head, you feel her dart 
 Through every fibre of the heart ! 
 So when physicians hunt the gout, 
 The lame distemper skips about 
 From limb to limb, and stops with ease 
 The patient's breath, the doctor's fees. 
 
 When Jove beheld the mighty odds. 
 He called a synod of the gods ; 
 Gods who in wood, and stone, and brass. 
 For very honest men might pass ; 
 But when from brass, and stone, and wood, 
 The poets made them flesh and blood, 
 The metamorphosed blocks and logs 
 Were verily most shabby dogs. 
 
 Each minor god assumed his throne ; 
 Jove o'er the rest superior shone, 
 Much like the Jove of winter nights, 
 Surrounded by his satellites ! 
 The Thunderer then, with arms a-kimbo, 
 Told of our goddesses in limbo ; 
 Quick at the news the powers on high 
 Peeped from the windows of the sky, 
 Convulsed with laughter when they saw 
 Immortals bound by Nature's law. 
 Almost in bankruptcy of breath. 
 Stretched at the turnpike-gate of Death, 
 
^^LOSS OF THE LOCKS." 329 
 
 Through which no traveller^ on trust, 
 Did ever pass — or ever must ; 
 Where Time himself, by Fate's decree, 
 Pays tribute to Eternity! 
 
 Momus alone, with solemn grace, 
 Maintained his fortitude of face, 
 Bowed at the central throne his skull, 
 And thus addressed the Great Mogul: — 
 " An't please your worship, my advice 
 Would free the ladies in a trice." 
 " Take counsel," Jove exclaimed, " of you? — 
 The powers dethrone me if I do ! " 
 ^^ Nay, don't be angry," Momus said ; 
 ^^ Do anything but shake your head." 
 
 That moment, such the will of Fate, 
 With rage the Thunderer shook his pate ; 
 Then rocked the pillars of creation, 
 Pale Nature reeled on her foundation, 
 Through every joint she felt the shock 
 Of Jove's electrifying block ; 
 Oh ! then were broken in a trice 
 Her spell of frost and charm of ice ; 
 Our startled captives raised their heads. 
 And sprang triumphant from their beds ; 
 But^ dire mischance ! among the rocks 
 Left the rich harvest of their locks — 
 Those locks divine, in ice inurned, 
 That ice to purest crystal turned ! 
 
 As Berenice's beams appear 
 Enshrined in heaven's own sapphire sphere. 
 With ringlets of celestial light. 
 Dishevelled o'er the brows of Night, 
 Thus in that cavern's hideous womb. 
 Twinkling sweet splendour through the gloom. 
 Those tresses in transparent stone, 
 A richer constellation shone. 
 
330 APPENDIX. 
 
 Here the bright sea-nymph's curls were seen. 
 
 Like fairy rings of glossy green ; 
 
 And Cytherea's ravished hair, 
 
 A golden treasure, glittered there^ 
 
 As if the moon enthroned on high. 
 
 Had cast her halo from the sky. 
 
 The goddesses, struck dumb with wonder, 
 A moment gazed, — then fled asunder; 
 Pale Thetis sought her native haven, 
 And reached old Greece, chagrined and shaven ; 
 There, wandering midst her darkest rocks, 
 She mourned Achilles — and her locks ; 
 While Venus, on the wings of morn, 
 Gay as a grasshopper, though shorn, 
 Flew to the skies^ and triumphed there 
 O'er every head and every hair ; 
 The gods, their wives and daughters sweet, 
 Laid beards and tresses at her feet : 
 And every pate and every chin 
 Was cropt and levelled to the skin; 
 And to this origin, perhaps. 
 We owe the birth of wigs and caps : 
 While love shall reign the sovereign passion, 
 Beauty will always lead the fashion. "*- 
 
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