Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 December 1883 — Composing in Bed. [ARTICLE]

Composing in Bed.

Men have done good work while lying in bed. Their minds were stimulated by the restfulness of the bedchamber. In fact there is no telling how much of the World’s literary wealth has been accumulated between the sheets, by those who, though not “watchers and weepers, ” turn and turn again, But turn and turn, and turn in vain. With an anxious brain, ▲nd thoughts in a train That does not run Upon sleepers. Though we should not advise an imitation of the illustrious examples set forth in the following anecdotes, collected by a writer in Chamber’s Journal, yet they illustrate the penchant which certain writers and composers have had for doing their work abed: One of the best known lines in English poetry came into its author’s head when he was actually asleep. While at Minto, Campbell one evening went to bed early, his thoughts full of a new poem. About two in the morning he suddenly wakened, repeating, “Events to come cast their shadows before. ” • Ringing the bell sharply, a servant obeyed the summons, to find the summoner with one foot in bed and one on the floor. _ ■ “Afeyou ill, sir?” inquired he. “III!” cried Campbell. “Never better in my life. Leave me the candle, ■and oblige me with a cup of tea.” Seizing his pen, he set down the happy thought, changing “events to come,” into “coming events;” and over the non-inebrating cup completed the first dr aft of ‘‘Lochiel’s Warning.” Longfellow’s" Wreck of the Hesperus” erme into his mind as he was sitting by his fireside, the night after a violent storm.

He went to bed, but could not sleep; the “Hesperus” would not be.denied; and as he lay the verse flowed oh withot4 let or hindrance until the poem was completed. Wordsworth used to go to bed on returning from his morning walk, and, while breakfasting there, dictate the lines he had put together on the march. One, at least, of Rossini’s operas was composed in bed. It was in the days when he was young, poor and unknown, and lived in wretched quarters. After writing a duet, the manuscript .sbppfid off the sheets and found a rest-ing-place under the bed. Rossini was too warm and comfortable to get out of bed to recover it, and, moreover, believed it would be unlucky to pick it up, so went to work to rewrite it.. ~ . To his disgust, he could not remember it sufficiently, so he set about writing a new one, and had just finished when a Jriend came into the room. “Try that over,” said he, “and tell me what you think of it. ” The piece was pronounced to be very good. “Now,” said Rossini, “put your hand under the bed; you’ll find another duet there; try that.” His instructions were obeyed, and the original composition declared the better of the two. Then they sang both over, Rossini in bed, his friend on its edge, and arrived at the same conclusion. “What will you do with the worse one?” asked the visitor. “Oh, I shall turn that into a terzetto,” answered Rossini; and he did. Macauley read much in bed, anjJ, anxious to keep up his German, imposed upon himself the task of perusing twenty pages of Schiller every day before getting up. Maule won his senior-wranglership by studying hard, long after ordinary folk were up and about, cozily esconced under the blankets. John Foster thought his sermons out in bed. Methodical Anthony Trollope regularly read for an hour before rising. Mary Somerville made it a rule riot to get up till 12 or 1, although she began work at 8; reading, writing and calculating hard—with her pet sparrow upon her arm—four or five hours every day, but they were spent abed.— Youth’s Companion.