I never heard Mr. Jefferson make a recitation or, except in the singing
of a song before his voice began to break, make himself a part of any
private entertainment other than that of a spectator and guest.
He shrank from personal displays of every sort. Even in his younger
days he rarely “gagged,” or interpolated, upon the stage. Yet he did
not lack for a ready wit. One time during the final act of Rip Van
Winkle, a young countryman in the gallery was so carried away that he
quite lost his bearings and seemed to be about to climb over the outer
railing. The audience, spellbound by the actor, nevertheless saw the
rustic, and its attention was being divided between the two when
Jefferson reached that point in the action of the piece where Rip is
amazed by the docility of his wife under the ill usage of her second
husband. He took in the situation at a glance.
Casting his eye directly upon the youth in the gallery, he uttered the
lines as if addressing them directly to him, “Well, I would never have
believed it if I had not seen it.”
The poor fellow, startled, drew back from his perilous position, and
the audience broke into a storm of applause.
Joseph Jefferson was a Swedenborgian in his religious belief. At one
time too extreme a belief in spiritualism threatened to cloud his
sound, wholesome understanding. As he grew older and happier and passed
out from the shadow of his early tragedy he fell away from the more
sinister influence the supernatural had attained over his imagination.
One time in Washington I had him to breakfast to meet the Chief Justice
and Mr. Justice Matthews and Mr. Carlisle, the newly-elected Speaker of
the House. It was a rainy Sunday, and it was in my mind to warn him
that our company was made up of hard-headed lawyers not apt to be
impressed by fairy tales and ghost stories, and to suggest that he cut
the spiritualism in case the conversation fell, as was likely, into the
speculative. I forgot, or something hindered, and, sure enough, the
question of second sight and mind reading came up, and I said to
myself: “Lord, now we’ll have it.” But it was my kinsman, Stanley
Matthews, who led off with a clairvoyant experience in his law
practice. I began to be reassured. Mr. Carlisle followed with a most
mathematical account of some hobgoblins he had encountered in his law
practice. Finally the Chief Justice, Mr. Waite, related a series of
incidents so fantastic and incredible, yet detailed with the precision
and lucidity of a master of plain statement, as fairly to stagger the
most believing ghostseer. Then I said to myself again: “Let her go,
Joe, no matter what you tell now you will fall below the standard set
by these professional perfecters of pure reason, and are safe to do
your best, or your worst.” I think he held his own, however.