Born, at Newcastle, 2 April 1812. At school at Newcastle. Play, “Charles at Tunbridge,” performed at Newcastle theatre, 2 May 1828. To Cambridge, Oct. 1828. Removed to University Coll., London, Nov. 1828. Student at Inner Temple, 10 Nov. 1828; called to Bar, 27 Jan. 1843. Contrib. to “Newcastle Magazine,” 1829. Dramatic critic of “True Sun,” 1832. Editor of “The Reflector” series of essays, 1832–33. Contrib. to “Courier” and “Athenæum.” Literary and dramatic critic to “Examiner,” 1833. Edited “Foreign Quarterly Review,” 1842–43. Contrib. to “Shilling Magazine” and “Edinburgh Review,” 1845, 1856. Editor of “Daily News,” Feb. to Oct. 1846. Editor of “Examiner,” 1847 to Dec. 1855. Contrib. to “Quarterly Review,” Sept. 1854 to 1855. Secretary to Commissioners of Lunacy, Dec. 1855 to Feb. 1861. Married Mrs. Eliza Ann Colburn, 24 Sept. 1856. Commissioner of Lunacy, Feb. 1861 to 1872. Died, 2 Feb. 1876. Buried at Kensal Green. Works: “Rhyme and Reason” (anon.), 1832; “Lives of the Statesmen of the Commonwealth” (5 vols., in “Lardner’s Cyclopædia”), 1836–39; “The Life and Adventures of Oliver Goldsmith,” 1848 (enlarged edn. called “Life and Times” of Goldsmith, 1854); “Historical and Biographical Essays,” 1858; “The Arrest of the Five Members by Charles I.,” 1860; “The Debates on the Grand Remonstrance,” 1860; “Life of Landor” (2 vols.), 1869; “Life of Dickens” (3 vols.), 1872–74; “Life of Jonathan Swift,” vol. i., 1876. He edited: Evelyn’s “Diary,” 1850–52.

Personal

  I have made the acquaintance of Mr. Forster, and like him exceedingly; he is very clever, and, what is better, very noble-minded.

  A very ugly and noseless likeness of a great tragedian whom he tried to imitate … even to his handwriting,… a sort of lick-dust to Mr. Fonnoir [Albany Fonblanque] and to Mr. Anybody and everybody else to whom he could gain access.

  There is alive at present in God’s universe, and likely to live, a man, Forster by name, a barrister, without practice, residing at number fifty-eight Lincoln’s-Inn Fields, not unknown to fame as “the second worst critic of the age,” who has gained himself a tolerable footing in our house and hearts, by, I cannot precisely say, what merits: Latterly, Carlyle has not thought him “so very bad a critic;” for he finds him here and there taking up a notion of his own, “as if he understood it.” For my part, I have always thought rather well of his judgment; for, from the first, he has displayed a most remarkable clear-sightedness, with respect to myself; thinking me little short of being as great a genius as my husband. And you, by you also his character as a critic has deserved to be redeemed from contempt; for he it was who wrote the article in the “Examiner” in praise of “The Election.”

  A disciple of Lavater or Gall and Spurzheim could not encounter Forster in any society, or position in it, without being struck with his appearance, his broad and ample forehead, his massive features, his clear, intelligent eye, his firm, fixed, and solemn look, and expressiveness of lips and other features. When we are ushered into the presence of Forster, we feel at home in his company, and well assured of our safety in it. We find ourselves in the company of a man of high integrity and moral character—of an enlarged mind and of a generous nature.

  So completely had he established his position in 1837 (he was then twenty-five) that he then became engaged to L. E. L., who was at the height of her fame and courted by hosts of admirers…. It has been often said, by many who knew the betrothed, that L. E. L. was piqued at the resignation with which Mr. Forster received his dismissal. That a feeling which was not love prompted her to accept the suit of Mr. Maclean was evident to all her friends. It is probable that the authoress of “The Vow of the Peacock” expected her lover to treat her with extravagant chivalry; to refuse his congé, though given again and again; to listen to no reasoning away of his love, and to worship his mistress only the more passionately for the dark clouds that had settled over her head. Whereas she was met by a man of honour who, while maintaining the completest faith in her innocence and remaining ready to marry her, was sufficiently master of himself to defer to her arguments when she showed cause why their engagement should be at an end.

  Forster may be truly said to have exhibited three, if not four, sorts of characters, or rather external styles. There was the inflated, loud, and rudely overbearing style; there was the attempt at this, now and then, among his equals in position, under cover of a half-jocose air, or holding himself in readiness to retreat upon, “Well, but to be serious;” thirdly, there was the style among his superiors in social position or public estimation, when he was all courtesy, though occasionally with a smiling dignity and pompous politeness; and, fourthly,—and a most striking impersonation this,—in addressing a lady on a first introduction, when his style was subdued to a most gentle, and even emotional tenderness of voice and manner, as though he were a physician standing before some goddess in a delicate state of health. He even carried this last style into public life; and I once heard him, when called upon, at a public dinner, to propose “The health of the ladies,” assume a tone of voice so tremulous with affectionate solicitude and loving delicacy of allusion (to the heavenly presence of those in the gallery), that he very nearly carried it too far, so as to be obliged to stop with a broken voice, and shed tears. Everybody expected it. I was on the verge of some myself.

  Those who knew Forster intimately were alone qualified to appreciate at their true worth his many noble and generous peculiarities. Regarded by strangers, his loud voice, his decisive manner, his features, which in any serious mood were rather stern and authoritative, would probably have appeared anything but prepossessing. Beneath his unflinching firmness and honesty of purpose were, however, the truest gentleness and sympathy. Outsiders might think him obstinate and overbearing, but in reality he was one of the tenderest and most generous of men. A staunch and faithful friend, he was always actively zealous as the peacemaker. While he had the heartiest enjoyment of society he had a curious impatience of little troubles, and yet the largest indulgence for the weakness of others.

  Forster’s foibles were a source of occasional merriment to his friends. His resolute and rather despotic disposition procured for him, however, a good deal of outward respect, especially as he could be, in and out of the Examiner, very useful and helpful to all whom he liked. It was credibly reported of Dickens that Forster was the only man of whom he stood a little in awe…. He was an honourable as well as an able man, diligent and painstaking in business, and his friendship, when once won, was remarkably steadfast.

  John Forster—Lady Bulwer’s Butcher’s Boy—was a self-made man, very agreeable to those who could keep him at a distance, but highly unpleasant when he chose.

General

  Forster is a first-rate man, generous and high-minded; I know him by what he has written. His “Life of Goldsmith” is perfection of its kind—wise, charitable, thoughtful, written in vigorous and manly English. When my life is written after I am dead … may I get such a biographer, not to slur over my faults and weaknesses, but to meet them fairly, and present them in their just relation to the entire character.

  The rarest and most advantageous of all combinations—the union of common sense and great intellectual endowments—constitutes the power and peculiarity of Mr. Forster’s abilities alike in literature and journalism. One is reminded, by his lucid, plain, trenchant, and forcible style of writing, of Cobbett’s best manner, with a large infusion into it of literary taste and scholarship.

  I have just finished the second volume of Forster’s Dickens: and still have no reason not to rejoice in the Man Dickens. And surely Forster does his part well; but I can fancy that some other Correspondent but himself should be drawn in as Dickens’ Life goes on, and thickens with Acquaintances.

  Mr. Forster’s “Life of Dickens,” now completed in the third volume, is a thoroughly successful picture of the life of the great humourist, and an invariable aid to the attempt to estimate his genius. It was objected to Mr. Forster’s earlier volumes, that he himself occupied too prominent a place in the narrative, and that he did not represent his friend in the most amiable and pleasing light. But it is not easy to see how the biographer could have obtruded himself less. An attachment so close, so long, and so unbroken, is perhaps unparalleled in the annals of literary friendships. There was no moment in the life of Dickens in which he did not appeal to Mr. Forster as to another self. Whether it was a question of putting off a dinner-party, or of going to America, of changing the name of a character, or of changing his domestic relations, or of giving public readings—these two last steps Mr. Dickens spoke of as the Plunge and the Dash—his constant cry to Mr. Forster was “advise, advise!” It was not possible to tell the story of the one life without admitting something of the other. Then as to the keenness, the hardness, the masterful side of Mr. Dickens’ character, his restlessness, his uneasy endurance of society, his too lofty estimate of the importance of himself and his affairs, all these are easily accounted for by the story of a life which made such blemishes almost fatal. Thus Mr. Forster’s book is an apologia for the life, and for the genius, with its defects.

  The merits and defects of his works sprang from the same source. He was an advocate, not a judge. He had sledgehammer blows to deal against the mere semblance of history which passed muster before him, and he was too impatient of the nonsense which was talked by writers like the elder Disraeli to enquire whether some residuum of sense might not be found beneath it all. He was deficient in that judicious scepticism with which an historian is bound to test his assertions which will not bear the test of serious investigation. Hence, too, his preference of biography to history. He had almost a feminine need for a personal attachment in his literary work; of some hero with whose cause he could thoroughly identify himself, and whose faults and mistakes could, if they were acknowledged at all, be covered with loving tenderness. He never attached himself to unworthy objects. Recent inquiry may throw doubt on some of his assertions and qualify some of his judgments. But the men whom he admired were deservedly the leaders of a great age, and the party whose greatness he appreciated was the party which justly merits the highest respect.

  To offer a concise view of the writings of Mr. Forster, it may be said that they have seldom been awarded all the credit to which they are entitled for the varied labours of the research, the solidity of their substance, and the finish of their texture. They almost always, on great occasions, display force as well as choice diction, and a certain dramatic yet subdued eloquence that carries conviction by its dignity. At the same time, it would be difficult to detach half a dozen sentences, or even passing remarks, that can be ranked as original, or brilliant. We never see a quotation from them relating to philosophy, the fine arts, human passions, or social progress; though some good quotations might, here and there, be made with reference to certain historical characters. But the most important work he did in the literary field of his day, was by no means that of his substantive volumes: it was his anonymous and, comparatively, unknown writings and influences in the Examiner, and elsewhere after he had risen to sufficient importance.

  The information supplied by Forster’s work [“Life of Landor”] is full, precise, and trustworthy; great pains were taken to make the presentation of character complete; there is no approach to tampering with facts through an unwise zeal of friendship; the biographer, allowance being made for some necessary reserve, before all else endeavoured to be truthful, and because entirely just, he felt that in treating of such a man as Landor generosity is a part of justice. At the same time it must be confessed that the work to which we must turn for information about the events of Landor’s life is far from being one of the rare and fortunate works of genius.

  Mr. Forster was appointed by Landor himself as his literary executor; he had command of all the necessary materials for his task, and his book [“Life of Landor”] is written with knowledge, industry, affection, and loyalty of purpose. But it is cumbrous in comment, inconclusive in criticism, and vague on vital points, especially on points of bibliography, which in the case of Landor are frequently both interesting and obscure.

  A work of the very first importance [“Life of Eliot”] to the student of this period. Sir John Eliot was the most eloquent leader of the first Parliament of Charles I.; but, until the appearance of his biography, there was no means of obtaining an account of the part he took. His speeches, of which MSS. generally remained, had not previously been published or even read. These volumes, therefore, contain a vast amount of valuable information not to be found elsewhere. This material comprises not only Eliot’s speeches, but also a voluminous correspondence with all the prominent leaders of the popular movement. No one will ever understand thoroughly what the rising against the Stuarts meant until he is well acquainted with its beginning, and no one can get such an acquaintance better than by studying these volumes. Mr. Forster was long considered the best English biographer; and the “Life of Sir John Eliot” is his most valuable production.

  He always seemed to be the exemplar of the true literary man—no mere writer, like so many, able to write and write at any notice, and about everything or anything. He was a diligent student, and laboured hard to cultivate his talent. The most gratifying thing in his course was to note his work: conscientious throughout, in everything he did his best, looking on “giving anything to the press” as a sort of solemn, responsible thing, not to be lightly attempted…. A more entertaining book than the “Life of Dickens” was never written.

  I think that that portion of the literary world which understands the fabrication of newspapers will admit that neither before his time, nor since, has there been a more capable editor of a weekly newspaper. As a literary man, he was not without his faults. That which the cabman is reported to have said of him before the magistrate is quite true. He was always “an arbitrary cove.” As a critic, he belonged to the school of Bentley and Gifford—who would always bray in a literary mortar all critics who disagreed with them, as though such disagreement were a personal offence requiring personal castigation. But that very eagerness made him a good editor. Into whatever he did he put his very heart and soul. During his time the Examiner was almost all that a Liberal weekly paper should be.

  Forster may be described as a useful, rather than an artistic biographer. In tone and manner of writing, as of speaking, he was loud and pompous, with a mighty opinion of himself, and a still greater one of his friends.

  No one would wish to detract from the merits of Mr. Forster’s book, [“Life of Swift”] but it is assuredly doing him no injustice to say that, had he paid more attention to the art of suppression and selection, it would have been better for his readers, and better for Swift’s fame. But this is not the only blemish in his work. It is animated throughout by an unpleasant polemical spirit. He appears to have regarded the biographers who preceded him as jealous lovers regard rivals. He is continually going out of his way to exalt himself and to depreciate them. Here we have a digression on the incompetence of Deane Swift, there a sneer at Orrery. Now he pauses to carp at Delany; at another time he wearies us with an account of the deficiencies of Sheridan. He must himself have admitted that his own original contributions to Swift’s biography were as a drop in the river, compared with those of Scott and Monck Mason, and yet Scott rarely appears in his pages, except in a disadvantageous light, and to Monck Mason’s work, though he draws largely on it, he studiously refrains from acknowledging the slightest obligation. But, to do him justice, Mr. Forster’s fragment is a solid and valuable addition to the literature of Swift. If he had added nothing of importance to what was known before, he has scrutinised with microscopic minuteness all that was known; he has thus accurately distinguished between what was fiction and what was fact.

  In contemporary biography his chief performances were lives of Landor and of Dickens, with both of whom he was extremely intimate. In private life Forster had the character of a bumptious busybody which character indeed the two books just mentioned,… abundantly establish. And towards the men of letters with whom he was intimate (Carlyle and Browning may be added to Landor and Dickens) he seems to have behaved like a Boswell-Podsnap, while in the latter half of the character he no doubt sat to Dickens himself. But he was an indefatigable literary inquirer, and seems, in a patronising kind of way, to have been liberal enough of the result of his inquiries. He had a real interest both in history and literature, and he wrote fairly enough.

  Forster had little power of realising character, and the subjects of his biographies are never clearly outlined. His “Life of Dickens” has an importance beyond its intrinsic merits, because it is the most authoritative book on the great novelist.