Mr. Thompson

“ Perhaps the Saturday Review was the most severe:—
"He has been, from the first, unfortunate in being shielded from sincere criticism. He has been persuaded by his friends that [240] he is a genius, divinely inspired, whose wildest utterances are his best. . . . In no poet of reputation is it (order) more strikingly absent than in Mr. Thompson. Beautiful fancy, sonorous and picturesque diction we find here, indeed, but no motive power. ”

“ There was the resplendent 'Judgment in Heaven,' with the trenchant Elizabethan apothegm of its epilogue. The 'Corymbus for Autumn' was an overwhelming improvisation of wild and exorbitant fantasy. To be familiar with it is to repent of having ever reproached it for a splendid [168] pedantry and a monstrous ambition. On the whole, if Mr. Thompson had stopped at his first volume we should have judged him more akin in stature and temperament to Marlowe than to any other great figure in English poetry. ”

“ Thompson, the other elderly woman, who gave herself the name of Mrs. Ward, and a lad of seventeen, who was named Willie Ward.
Tempted by the stories about Mr. Thompson being a gentleman of independent means, a girl once offered herself as domestic servant.
“She saw a man,” she says, “who told her he did not believe in servants, as they were always gossiping.”
Probably Peace had too much experience of the information to be got from servants’ loose tongues to have one about his own premises. ”

“ Thompson's property, and it was by no means certain, such is the subtle psychology of active benevolence, that Mr. Thompson did not regard the boy in that light also. At any rate the boy looked on the mate as his natural protector. Henry Harper craved for someone to whom he could render homage and obedience. He would have reverenced the Old Man had he been worthy of such an emotion; as it was he had to fall back on the mate, a rough man to look at, and a very bad one to cross, but one to whom he owed his life, and the only friend he had. ”

“ In Wordsworth Thompson we find an artist who seems to realize the possibilities of American historical art. Although a pupil of Gleyre, and for a number of years a resident abroad, there is no evidence of servile subserviency to any favorite school or method in the style of Mr. Thompson. He is an excellent draughtsman, his color is a happy medium between the high and low keys of different schools—fresh, cool, and crisp—and his work is thoroughly finished, and yet broad in effect. He evidently has no hobbies to ride. As a designer of horses he has few equals in this country. ”

“ Miss Thompson, in her fawn-coloured coat and skirt, feathered hat and spotted veil, was a tall, slim, graceful figure, ready now to adorn the hired landau from Mr. Young's livery stables. Her hair was dark and her complexion naturally pallid; with a long straight nose in a narrow face, she resembled her dead father, but what was sheep-like and stupid in him was rather pretty in the girl;—altogether, a decent-looking, fairly attractive young woman of twenty-two, but not likely to obtain from the world at large the gaze of admiring satisfaction with which an adoring mother regarded her. ”

“ Thompson's high-water mark for unimaginable beauty and tremendous import—if we do damnably iterate Mr. Thompson's tremendousness, we cannot help it, he thrusts the word upon us. We do not think we forget any of the splendid things of an English anthology when we say that the 'Hound of Heaven' seems to us, on the whole, the most wonderful lyric (if we consider Sister Songs as a sequence of lyrics) in the language. ”

“ Thompson is personally sensitive, kind-hearted, self-sacrificing; he never speaks ill of any one, delights in doing good, and enjoys hearing and telling a good story; he is quiet, yet full of fun; generous to a fault. His company has become much attached to him.
In the village of Swansey is Mr. Thompson's summer home; a beautiful mansion, surrounded by grounds where art and nature combine to please. The hospitality of the house is proverbial, but its chief attraction is its well-stocked library.
[14]
NATIONAL BANKS. THE SURPLUS FUND AND NET PROFITS. By George H. Wood. ”

“ On October 8, 1915, this noted old pioneer was eighty-eight years old and still vigorous, mentally. His power of thinking is not much diminished, and he is still a reader and student. Constant reading and thinking, we are told, is conducive to longevity and Mr. Thompson has always been a great reader and student of history and philosophy. He is a man, self-made and self-taught, and is blessed with a keenness of intellect far above the average. ”

“ George Thompson's love of freedom, his labours in behalf of the American slave, the negroes of the West Indies, and the wronged millions of India, are too well known to the people of both hemispheres, to need a word of comment from me. With the single exception of the illustrious Garrison, no individual is more loved and honoured by the coloured people of America, and their friends than Mr. Thompson.
A few days after my arrival in London, I received an invitation from John Lee, Esq., LL.D., whom I had met at the Peace Congress in Paris, to pay him a visit at his seat, near Aylesbury ”

“ Thompson.
"He's-goin'-to-sleep, he's-goin'-to-sleep," answered the frog, in a deep bass voice.
"Just-hear-him-snore, just-hear-him-snore," piped a little green fellow, sitting on a lily pad.
Mr. Thompson was getting angry. "I'm not asleep," he shouted.
"Don't-you-get-mad, don't-you-get-mad," urged the old frog.
This was too much. Mr. Thompson sat up and looked around. Directly in front of him, in the edge of the pond, sat a great bull-frog, dressed in a green coat, a canary-colored vest, and dark brown knee-breeches. He winked at Mr. Thompson sociably, and remarked, "How-do-you-do? ”

“ Thompson paused a moment. "It is," he admitted. "But," he added, "it is such fun; and then men shoot us at every possible opportunity. It is no more than fair that we should get even with them."
"You talk like a sensible crow," said his companion. "But here comes a man;" and he uttered a derisive "Caw!" as he flew off, followed by Mr. Thompson.
"Let's go down to the shore," remarked the crow, as they came in sight of Long Island Sound.
Soon they were on the shore of a little creek that came in from the Sound. Mr. Thompson and his companion walked along the edge of the water, when suddenly Mr. ”

“ Mrs. Shever blushed, looked confused, hesitated, stammered and laughed, but at last confessed to her sister that it wouldn't be her fault if she did not hook Mr. Thompson as soon as he landed.
"But you'll have to wait ever so long, dear. The ship ain't ordered home yet."
"Wait! Who wouldn't wait for such a man as that? Why, I'd wait for ten years."
"You'd be grey before then, 'Melia dear, wouldn't you?" exclaimed Mary Ann with a touch of mischief; "and perhaps Mr. Thompson wouldn't have you. Besides, maybe he has fallen in with one of them black gals in Chinee, and won't come back at all. ”

“ The genial May sunshine flashed gaily, lighting up the whole street, making both ladies blink their eyes as the carriage rolled away.
"What a crowd there is outside Bence's," said Miss Enid. "How mean it is of him not to close!"
The first shop they passed was Bence's drapery stores, and Mrs. Thompson glanced carelessly at the thronged pavement in front of these improperly open windows.
"Mr. Bence's motto," said Mrs. Thompson, "is cheap and nasty," and she laughed with an amused scorn for so mean a trade rival. "His method of doing business is like the trumpery he offers to the public. ”

“ Considering that these eighty-one pages of verse are all that Mr. Thompson has done, there would seem room for almost any [147] hope of what he may do, but for one circumstance which seems to limit expectancy. He is, I believe, about thirty-five years old—an age at which most poets have written as well as they have ever written, and at which the faculty of 'taste,' which is to a poet what chastity is to a woman, is usually as perfect as it is likely ever to be. ”

“ Thompson, as he was then called, bought my father, and he was married to my mother by him. Mr. Thompson ministered to the people of Canaan in holy things; [5] his slaves worked his farm. For a short time things went on very well; but soon the North and the South, as now, fell out; the South must rule, and after a time the North would not be ruled. The minister’s wife told my father if she only had him South, where she could have at her call a half dozen men, she would have him stripped and flogged until he was cut in strings, and see if he would do as she bid him. ”

“ Thompson admits, proved himself a master of office routine. Although Mr. Thompson doesn't say so, I have no doubt but that he would have been promoted very shortly.
And then he fell in love with a little brown-eyed stenographer. You know how it is yourself. She had an invalid mother at home and was probably trying to save enough money to send her father to college. ”

“ Thompson could scarcely credit his senses when he heard that flogging had been abolished on board the Stinger.
"What!" he observed to the boatswain, "are we free, then?"
"I'm surprised at you, Thompson; as if you was not free afore!"
"Well, Mr. Shever, you don't mean to tell me that you really believes that a man thinks hisself free, when at any moment he may find the cat-o'-nine-tails flying across his back, do you?"
"You don't look at it in a proper light, Jerry. A commander on one of her Majesty's ships-of-war has got to be a big man, or no one thinks anything of him. ”

“ Mr Thompson's thought, always strong, often runs into phrases of exquisite sweetness and exquisite clarity.... The lines beginning:
"Firm is the man, and set beyond the cast Of fortune's game and the iniquitous hour,"
are worthy to be remembered beside Daniel's Epistle to the Countess of Cumberland.—Sir A. Quiller Couch ("Q") , in The Daily News.
Thompson's poetry is a "wassail of orgiac imageries." He is a poet's poet, like Shelley and Blake. In order to follow him as he soars from image to image and symbol to symbol, you must have the rare wings of imagination.... ”

“ Thompson, smiling pleasantly, "you're nothing of the sort. You are a very clever enterprising gentleman. But I'm not in the least afraid of you, Mr. Bence."
"That's right," said Bence delightedly. "And always remember this. I am not fighting you. Any attempt at a real fight is simply foreign from my nature—that is, where you are concerned."
"Never mind me," said Mrs. Thompson once. "But take care on your own account. Vaulting ambition sometimes o'erleaps itself."
"Ah," said Bence. "There you show your marvellous power. You put your finger on the sore spot in a moment. I am ambitious. ”

“ The sailor never forgot his friends in Hong-Kong, and, according to promise, wrote to Mrs. Mackay, saying, "I have married the best girl in the world, and if there is any victim in the case, it is not your happy friend, Jerry Thompson."
Nelly added a postscript. [Pg 236]
* * * * * *
Some years have elapsed since the foregoing, and Mr. Thompson is now the esteemed agent of the Squire, and farms a large estate upon his own account. He still retains his admiration for Miss Barbara, who has grown up into a beautiful woman; her word to him is law, and he makes it so to all under him. ”

“ Why, it's really Mr. Thompson! Lord, sir! how you do disgust yourself. I didn't know you."
There was a smile of satisfaction upon the acting boatswain's face when he walked aft, and reported himself to the officer of the watch, who, after assuring himself that it was actually Thompson, and not a Chinese, went below and informed the captain. Jerry looked round at the crew who were bringing aft the sand and holy stones preparatory to washing decks, but none of them recognized him ”

“ We stop along by the way, and some prefer to spend the summer in one place and some in another, so you see that by the time we get here we are pretty well scattered. When we get here we go to housekeeping. But," he added, deftly snapping up a fish in his long bill, and tossing it to Mr. Thompson, "just eat that, and I'll show you the rest."
Mr. Thompson swallowed the fish without thinking. In a moment he began to experience the most peculiar sensations. His neck began to stretch, his nose to elongate, his hands and arms became covered with feathers. ”

“ Prentice, he was very silent—almost as silent as Enid. Not quite, because he spoke easily and naturally when anybody addressed him. And his silence was smiling and gracious. Among the other men he seemed to be a creature from a different world—so firm in his quiet strength, so confident in his own power, so young, so self-possessed, and so extraordinarily, overbearingly handsome.
The dinner was more than half over; the Dolphin waiters were carving and serving some savoury game; Mrs. Thompson exerted herself as a watchful and attentive hostess.
"Mr. Greig, you mustn't refuse the grouse. ”

“ Thompson decisively.
"Oh, yes, ma'am, and I offer an apology for my mistake."
"Mr. Marsden," said Mrs. Thompson, with dignity, "there is not the slightest occasion for an apology. Please don't make mountains out of molehills."
"No—but I am in earnest. It is your own great kindness that led me to forget. And I confess that I did for a moment forget the immense difference of social station that lies between us. A shopman should never speak to his employer—much less his employer's relatives—in a tone implying the least friendliness or equality." ”