_Impromptu_.

"Sixty times, you tell me, friend, You've read my books from end to end.

Perhaps not all my myriad rhymes, But all my rhythmics sixty times.

Yes, friend, for I have heard you quote My old Proverbials by rote Page after page, and anywhere Have heard you spout them then and there, Though I myself had quite forgot What I had writ, and you had not.

"Well, author surely never more Was complimented so before; For though I knew in years long past An amiable enthusiast, Who copied out in his MS.

My whole Proverbial, as for press, Until he half believed that he Was the real Simon M.F.T.,-- Yet thou, my worthy William Hawkes, Hast beaten Nightingale by chalks,-- And, years ago, your friends for fame Have given you Martin Tapper's name, Because you constantly were heard Quoting Proverbial word for word!

So then, by heart, as by the pen, 'I live upon the mouths of men,'

Ev'n as Ennius lived of old, A life worth more than gems or gold."

Two more strange anecdotes may here find their place (others will occur elsewhere in this volume hereafter) respecting "Proverbial Philosophy."

Joseph Durham, the sculptor, a great friend of mine, had been known to me for some years, and one day he gave me a curious little book, very ancient and dingy-looking, ent.i.tled "Politeuphuia, Wits' Commonwealth: London, 1667;" with this explanation, that he had picked it up at an old bookstall, and, finding it was written somewhat in proverbs gave it to me, adding, in his shrewd way, the humorous fancy that (until he had read it and couldn't discover a line or thought of exact similarity) possibly he might have checkmated me by showing me the mine from which I had dug my wisdoms! As I have before me a memorandum pasted into the booklet itself (it is a minute duodecimo) I will here quote exactly what I wrote in it at the time: the date being Albury House, May 24, 1865:--

"This little book has just been given to me by Durham; it is very scarce, so much so that the British Museum, he says, does not possess a copy; probably there are not six in the world. I never saw it, nor heard of it till now; just twenty-nine years after the publication of my Proverbial Philosophy. It is a curious coincidence that the headings of this Wits' Miscellany are similar to my own; as Of so and so throughout; I first wrote On so and so; but did not like the sound, and remembering it would be De in Latin, altered it to Of. The treatment also of the subjects has some apparent similitude; but in looking all through the book, it is strange that not one line, not one phrase, is the same as any of mine. Travelling on the same road, and in somewhat of the same proverbial rhythm, this is very curious; whilst it certainly acquits me of even unintended and unconscious plagiarism. The headings begin of G.o.d, of Heaven, of Angels, &c.,--and then of vertue, of peace, of truth, &c., and afterwards of love, of jealousie, of hate, of beauty, of flattery, &c., &c.,--all being aphoristic quotations from ancient authors. As before stated, the whole was unseen by me until nearly thirty years after I had published my independent essays on the same theses much in a similar key."

This is a parallel case to the recent statement in a printed book with characteristic ill.u.s.trations respecting the non-originality of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress; and Milton's Paradise Lost has been similarly disparaged, Mr. Plummer Ward having written and shown to me a pamphlet by himself to prove that some Italian poem seen by Milton in youth preceded him on the same lines;--while Mr. Geikie quotes from the Anglo-Saxon Caedmon papers nearly identical with some in Paradise Lost.

But there is no end to a.s.sertions of this sort, impugning authorial honesty and originality: when authors write on the same topics and with much the same stock of words and ideas both religious and educational, it is only a marvel that the thoughts and writings of men do not oftener collide, and seem to be plagiaristic reproductions. I have spoken of all this at length, that if any one hereafter finds this "Politeuphuia" in the British Museum (which is welcome to have my copy if it lacks one), and years hence accuses my innocence of having stolen from it, he may know that I have thus taken the bull by the horns and twisted him over.

The last anecdote I shall now inflict upon my reader in this connection is as follows:--

One James Orton, an American gentleman whom I have never seen that I know of (unless by possibility in some one of the crowds met anonymously, before whom I may have read in public) was kind enough many years ago to publish a beautifully printed and ill.u.s.trated volume "The Proverbialist and the Poet," whereof he sent me two copies; but lacking his address, probably with the delicate object of preventing an acknowledgment; and I am almost ashamed to state that his whole book in different inks combines the threefold wisdoms of King Solomon, William Shakespeare, and Martin Tupper; the t.i.tle-page being decorated in colours with views of the Temple, Stratford-on-Avon, and Albury House!

If I ventured to quote the Preface, it would beat even this as the climax of fulsome flattery, and I think that my friends of the Comic Press who have done me so much service by keeping up my shuttlec.o.c.k with their battledores, and so much honour by placing me prominently among the defamed worthies of the world, would in their charity (for they have some) pity the victim of such excruciating praise, if he failed hereby to repudiate it.

Not but that poor human nature delights in adulation. I well remember the joy wherewith I first greeted the following from a Cincinnati paper; so hearty too, and generous, and obviously sincere.

"The author of this book will rank, we are free to say, with the very first spirits of the British world. It will live, in our judgment, as long as the English language, and be a text-book of wisdom to the young of all generations of America and England both. We would rather be the author of it, than hold any civil or ecclesiastical office in the globe.

We would rather leave it as a legacy to our children, than the richest estate ever owned by man. From our heart we thank the young author for this precious gift, and, could our voice reach him, would p.r.o.nounce a shower of heartfelt blessings on his soul. When we began to read it with our editorial pencil in hand, we undertook to mark its beautiful pa.s.sages, should we find any worthy of distinction; but, having read to our satisfaction--indeed to our amazement--we throw down the pencil, and, had we as much s.p.a.ce as admiration, we would quote the whole of it.

It is one solid, sparkling, priceless gem."

I may as well add a few more such extracts, as strictly within the text of "My Lifework."

"The author of 'Proverbial Philosophy' is a writer in whom beautiful extremes meet,--the richness of the Orient, and the strength of the Occident--the stern virtue of the North and the pa.s.sion of the South. At times his genius seems to possess creative power, and to open to our gaze things new and glorious, of which we have never dreamed; then again it seems like sunlight, its province not to create, but to vivify and glorify what before was within and around us. Aspirations, fancies, beliefs we have long folded in our hearts as dear and sacred things, yet never had the power or the courage to reveal, bloom out as naturally in his pages as wild flowers when the blossoming time is come. We are not so much struck by the grandeur of his conceptions, or fascinated by the elegance of his diction, as warmed, enn.o.bled, and delighted by the glow of his enthusiasm, the purity of his principles, and the continuous gushing forth of his tenderness. His words form an electric chain, along which he sends his own soul, thrilling around the wide circle of his readers."--N.P. Willis's _Home Journal_.

"Perhaps no writer has attracted a greater degree of public attention, or received a larger share of public praise, during the last few years, than Martin F. Tupper,--a man of whom England may well be proud, and whose name will eventually be one of the very n.o.blest on the scroll of fame."--_American Courier_.

"Everybody knows the 'Proverbial Philosophy' of Martin Tupper; a million and a half of copies--so, publishers say--have been sold in America."--_New York World_.

"Full of genius, rich in thought, admirable in its religious tone and beautiful language."--_Cincinnati Atlas_.

"'Apples of gold set in pictures of silver' is the most apposite apophthegm we can apply to the entire work. We have rarely met a volume so grateful to the taste in all its parts, so rich in its simplicity, so unique in its arrangements, and so perfect in all that const.i.tutes the perfection of style, as the volume before us. It must live like immortal seed, to produce a continual harvest of profitable reflection."--(_Philadelphian_) _Episcopal Recorder_.

"No one can glance at this work without perceiving that it is produced by the inspiration of genius. It is full of glorious thoughts, each of which might be expanded into a treatise."--_Albany Atlas_.

"We cannot express the intense interest and delight with which we have perused 'Proverbial Philosophy.'"--_Oberlin's Evangelist_.

"The 'Proverbial Philosophy' has struck with almost miraculous force and effect upon the minds and hearts of a large cla.s.s of American readers, and has at once rendered its author's name and character famous and familiar in our country. It abounds in gems and apt allusions, which display without an effort the deep practical views and the aesthetical culture of the author."--_Southern Literary Messenger_.

Let all this suffice for America: a few from this side of the Atlantic may be added:--

"Were we to say all we think of the n.o.bleness of the thoughts, of the beauty and virtuousness of the sentiments contained in this volume, we should be constrained to write a lengthened eulogium on it."--_Morning Post_.

"Martin Farquhar Tupper has won for himself the vacant throne waiting for him amidst the immortals, and after a long and glorious term of popularity among those who know when their hearts are touched, without being able to justify their taste to their intellect, has been adopted by the suffrage of mankind and the final decree of publishers into the same rank with Wordsworth, Tennyson, and Browning."--_Spectator_.

"It is a book easily understood, and repaying the reader on every page with sentiments true to experience, and expressed often with surprising beauty."--_Presbyterian_.

"One of the most thoughtful, brilliant, and finished productions of the age."--_Banner of the Cross_.

"For poetic imagery, for brightness of thought, for clear and striking views of all the interests and conditions of man, this work has been p.r.o.nounced by the English and American press as unequalled."--_Literary Messenger_.

"The princ.i.p.al work of Martin Farquhar Tupper, 'Proverbial Philosophy,'

is instinct with the spirit of genial hopeful love: and to this mainly should be attributed the vast amount of sympathetic admiration it has attracted, not only in this country, but also in the United States."--_English Review_.

"We congratulate ourselves, for the sake of our land's language, on this n.o.ble addition to her stock of what Dr. Johnson justly esteems 'the highest order of learning.' If Mr. Tupper be not the high priest of his profession, he is at least no undignified minister of the altar. The spirit of a n.o.ble hope animates the exercise of his high function."--_Parthenon_.

"We know not whether Mr. Tupper, when he was pouring forth the contents of these glorious volumes, intended to write prose or poetry; but if his object was the former, his end has not been accomplished. 'Proverbial Philosophy' is poetry a.s.suredly; poetry exquisite, almost beyond the bounds of fancy to conceive, brimmed with n.o.ble thoughts, and studded with heavenward aspirations."--_Church of England Journal_.

"The 'Proverbial Philosophy,' which first established Mr. Tupper's reputation, is a work of standard excellence. It has met with unprecedented success, and many large editions of it have been sold. It led to the author's being elected a Fellow of the Royal Society; and the King of Prussia, in token of his Majesty's high approbation of the work, sent him the gold medal for science and literature."--_Glasgow Examiner_.

"This book is like a collection of miniature paintings on ivory, small, beautiful, highly finished, and heterogeneous: in style something between prose and verse; not so rigid as to fetter the thought, not so free as to exclude absolute distinctness, with the turn and phrase of poetry."--_Christian Remembrancer_.

"There is more novelty in the sentiments, a greater sweep of subjects, and a finer sense of moral beauty displayed by Mr. Tupper, than we remember to have seen in any work of its cla.s.s, excepting of course the 'Proverbs of Solomon.' We also discover in his 'Philosophy' the stores of extensive reading, and the indisputable proofs of habitual and devout reflection, as well as the workings of an elegant mind."--_Monthly Review_.

"Have we not now done enough to show that a poet of power and of promise,--a poet and philosopher both--is amongst us to delight and instruct, to elevate and to guide."--_Conservative Journal_.

"This work glows and glitters all over with the effluence and l.u.s.tre of a fine imagination, and is steeped in the rich hues and pervading beauty of a mild wisdom, and a genial and kindly morality."--_Scots Times_.

"The 'Proverbial Philosophy' contains much sound reflection, moral and religious maxims of the highest importance, elegant figures and allusions, sound and serious observations of life,--all expressed in most appropriate and well-selected language."--_Gentleman's Magazine_.

"One of the most original and curious productions of our time."--_Atlas_.

"A book as full of sweetness as a honeycomb, of gentleness as woman's heart; in its wisdom worthy the disciple of a Solomon, in its genius the child of a Milton. Every page, nay almost every line, teems with evidences of profound thinking and various reading, and the pictures it often presents to our mind are the most imaginative and beautiful that can possibly be conceived."--_Court Journal_.

"If men delight to read Tupper both in England and America, why should they not study him both in the nineteenth century and in the twentieth?

The judgment of persons who are more or less free from insular prejudices is said in some degree to antic.i.p.ate that which is admitted to be the conclusive verdict of posterity."--_Sat.u.r.day Review_.

"The popularity of the 'Proverbial Philosophy' of Martin Tupper is a gratifying and healthy symptom of the present taste in literature, the book being full of lessons of wisdom and piety, conveyed in a style startling at first by its novelty, but irresistibly pleasing by its earnestness and eloquence."--_Literary Gazette_.

"Mr. Mill, Mr. Herbert Spencer, Mr. Browning, Mr. Morris, Mr.

Rossetti--all these writers have a wider audience in America than in England. So too has Mr. Tupper. The imagination staggers in attempting to realise the number of copies of his works which have been published abroad. Unlike most of his contemporaries, further, he has conquered popularity in both hemispheres. He has won the suffrages of two great nations. He may now disregard criticism."--_Daily News_.

This sonnet, written and published in 1837, nearly half a century ago, explains itself and may fairly come in here as a protest and prophecy by a then young author. And, _nota bene_, if hyper-criticism objects that a sonnet must always be a fourteen-liner (this being one only of twelve) I reply that it is sometimes of sixteen, as in the one by Dante to Madonna, which I have translated in my "Modern Pyramid:" and there are instances of twelve, as one at least of Shakespeare's in his Pa.s.sionate Pilgrim. But this is a small technicality.

_To my Book "Proverbial Philosophy," before Publication._

"My soul's own son, dear image of my mind, I would not without blessing send thee forth Into the bleak wide world, whose voice unkind Perchance will mock at thee as nothing worth; For the cold critic's jealous eye may find In all thy purposed good little but ill, May taunt thy simple garb as quaintly wrought, And praise thee for no more than the small skill Of masquing as thine own another's thought: What then? count envious sneers as less than nought: Fair is thine aim,--and having done thy best, So, thus I bless thee; yea, thou shalt be blest!"