MATTHEW MONCKTON, ESQ. "What are these So withered, and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants of the earth." MACBETH. THIS Gentleman is but a young man, though he has long had a seat in the senate. He is well known for the great eminence of his literary talents, though they are of a very eccentric kind. It is credibly asserted, and believed by many, that when he was a child, an old woman, who was a great favourite in the family, in which she had lived as a nurse, used to be as fond of relating to him, as he was fond of listening to them, various terrific stories of ghosts, witches, and all the frightful train of hobgoblins that she could conjure up from the old musty stores of her memory, and which had been told to her when she herself was a child. A Romancer and Necromancer. As he grew older, he soon evinced a very studious turn of mind; but all the leisure hours he could find he devoted to the perusal of old popish legends, the defence of the existence of witchcraft, the science of magic, the corporeal appearance of the devil, and such like works. The happy turn of elegance which was, however, seated innately in his mind, his charming ear for a peculiar, harmonious, though irregular, species of poetry, evinced themselves in some sweet ballads, which, though they all breathed supernatural agency, yet charmed, interested, and allured every one who had any taste, in spite of their beiter reason, to be delighted with them. He has written many volumes; and volumes which evince the deep science of the writer; which contain bold, forcible, and elegant language; but which are A Play-writer. never free from ghosts, magical incantations, and a long train of horrors. Crimes of the most enormous dye, bleeding spectres, and demons with terrific claws, shock the imagination, but almost incline the reader to believe in demoniack fascination, by the witchery of Mr. Moncton's works, which impels them to read on, because he continues, by his charming language, by the sweet poetry he mingles, and by the peculiar interest of the story, to render it impossible for the most morose stoic to close the book, and say, "I am tired of such improbable nonsense, I will read no farther;" no, we feel rather inclined to believe in magic, and are obliged to confess, that she draws her irresistible circle with Monckton's pen round the inchanted readers! In his theatrical writings he has not been very successful; for this taste prevailing through all his works, it is not A good Companion. adapted to the veluti in speculum, which should always be kept in view, as much as possible, on the stage. In those pieces which have succeeded of this incomparable author's, except in a Venetian story, we own we have been disappointed: a mother's bosom continuaily pouring a stream of blood creates an horror indescribable, and an uncle being the murderer of his brother, and wading through every sanguinary crime, which nature shudders at, for the possessionof his niece, shocks the mind, and throws a terrific gloom over the piece, ill calculated to please a British audience. Every one has his peculiar forte; if this legendary style is really Mr. Monckton's, he does not bury his talent; for it increases ten-fold with every new work he publishes. He can be gay and cheerful in private life; why throw such horror into his A good Companion. writings? He has even ridiculed and parodied some of his ghostly skeleton scenes himself, which shews him to be possessed of sterling irony, and original wit: we think, if he would compose a burlesque novel on the existence of apparitions and art magic, it would afford that infinite pleasure to the reader, which his works, when even undivested of all that fear-creating trash, cannot yet fail to give. One of his most popular works has characterized him with a ludicrous sobriquet, by which he is universally known; every one speaks of him by it; and a bookseller, with a serious face, recommends the work to his customer's perusal, by giving the author that appellation, which he gained from depicting the crimes and priestly pride of a popish recluse. His private character is truly amiable; andas free from blame as erring mortality |