ute still vibrates from the
early part of the century. Many of them--actors, authors, artists,
musicians, and others met at the Garrick Club, and Barham joined it. The
names of Sydney Smith and Theodore Hook are enough to show what it was;
but there were others equally delightful,--not the least so, or least
useful, a few who could not see a joke at all, and whose simplicity and
good nature made them butts for the hoaxes and solemn chaff of the rest.
Barbara's diary, quoted in his son's (Life,) gives an exquisite
instance.

In 1834 his old schoolmaster Bentley established Bentley's Miscellany;
and Barham was asked for contributions. The first he sent was the
amusing but quite "conceivable" (Spectre of Tappington); but there soon
began the immortal series of versified local stories, legendary church
miracles, antiquarian curios, witty summaries of popular plays, skits on
London life, and so on, under the pseudonym of 'Thomas Ingoldsby,' which
sprang instantly into wide popularity, and have never fallen from public
favor since--nor can they till appreciation of humor is dead in the
world. They were collected and illustrated by Leech, Cruikshank, and
others, who were inspired by them to some of their best designs: perhaps
the most perfect realization in art of the Devil in his moments of
jocose triumph is Leech's figure in 'The House-Warming.' A later series
appeared in Colburn's New Monthly Magazine in 1843.

He wrote some excellent pieces (of their kind) in prose, besides the one
already mentioned: the weird and well-constructed 'Leech of Folkestone'
and the 'Passage in the Life of Henry Harris,' both half-serious tales
of mediaeval magic; the thoroughly Ingoldsbian 'Legend of Sheppey,' with
its irreverent farce, high animal spirits, and antiquarianism; the
equally characteristic 'Lady Rohesia,' which would be vulgar but for his
sly wit and drollery. But none of these are as familiar as the versified
'Legends,' nor have they the astonishing variety of entertainment found
in the latter.

The 'Ingoldsby Legends' have been called an English naturalization of
the French metrical _contes;_ but Barham owes nothing to his French
models save the suggestion of method and form. Not only is his matter
all his own, but he has _Anglified_ the whole being of the metrical form
itself. His facility of versification, the way in which the whole
language seems to be liquid in his hands and ready to pour into any
channel of verse, was on