Chapter I

., are to be ascribed to the Ettrick Shepherd; the rest of the composition falls to be divided between Professor Wilson and Mr. Lockhart, in proportions which cannot now be determined.” Again, Mrs. Gordon tells us that this audacious squib was composed in her grandmother’s house, 23, Queen Street, where Wilson lived, “amid such shouts of laughter as made the ladies in the room above send to inquire and wonder what the gentlemen below were about;” and yet she adds, as if to protect her father from suspicion of a share in it, that she “cannot trace to her father’s hand any instance of unmanly attack, or one shade of real malignity.” Very probably not; but at the same time the fun of the squib is decidedly in Wilson’s favourite manner. “An old contributor to _Blackwood_,” who, in 1860, furnished a most interesting and full account of Maga and Blackwoodiana to the columns of the _Bookseller_, asserts, in reference to Hogg’s claim, “on the best authority (that of the man who did write it), that there is no foundation whatever for any such pretext. The hare was started by Wilson at one of those _symposia_ which preceded and perhaps suggested the _Noctes_. The idea was caught up with avidity by Hogg, and some half-dozen verses were suggested by him on the ensuing day; but we are, we believe, correct in affirming that no part of his _ébauche_ appeared in the original or any other draft of the article.” It is to be wished that this writer, whose article evidently exhibits personal knowledge, and, apart from a running attack upon Hogg, due impartiality, had, in putting forward a new version of the story, in contradiction to those already given, been enabled to give us the name of the writer, apparently, from the wording of the context, a new claimant.

Not only were Blackwood’s “enemies” discomforted, but even his friends were sore dismayed. The first number of _Blackwood_ bore the imprint of John Murray, but the “Caldee MS.” caused him to withdraw his name, but after passing through the hands of three different London agents, the sixth again appeared under his countenance. This number, however, contained some unpalatable strictures on Gifford and the _Quarterly Reviewers_, and the Albemarle Street patronage was again withdrawn, only to be renewed in the eleventh number; but by the time it reached the seventeenth he washed his hands of it entirely, and in future it appeared without the ornamental appendage of any London bookseller’s name; the agency, distinctly one of sale only, was given to Cadell and Davies, who found it profitable enough to occupy the greater part of their attention. Cadell, naturally as nervous as Murray of giving, or being in any way instrumental in giving, offence, kept a stereotyped reply in readiness for any angry victim who rushed into his shop for redress--“I know nothing of the contents of the magazine; I am merely the carrier of a certain portion of its circulation to its English readers.”

From the commencement of the new series--from the foundation that is of _Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine_--Blackwood’s fortunes and even the story of his life are inextricably bound up in the progress of the periodical; for he did not again, once he had got rid of Pringle and Cleghorne, entrust its charge and conduct to the care of any editor. For a long time Wilson was supposed to occupy the editorial chair. This supposition is treated in a letter, printed by his daughter: “Of _Blackwood_ I am not the editor, although I believe I very generally got both the credit and discredit of being Christopher North. I am one of the chief writers, perhaps the chief writer, but never received one shilling from the proprietor, except for my own compositions. Being generally on the spot, I am always willing to give him my advice, and to supply such articles as are most wanted, when I have leisure.” “From an early period of its progress,” says Lockhart, speaking of Blackwood and the magazine, “it engrossed a very large share of his time; and though he scarcely ever wrote for its pages himself (three articles, we believe, he did contribute), the general management and arrangement of it, with the very extensive literary correspondence which this involved, and the constant superintendence of the press, would have been more than enough to occupy entirely any man but one of his first-rate energies.”

Before we follow up the chronicle of the life of _Blackwood_ and its proprietor, it will be necessary to take a retrospective glance at the causes which rendered it possible to convert the snug, orthodox, and more than slightly Whiggish _Edinburgh Monthly Magazine_ into the slashing, defiant, jovial, dare-devil of _Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine_. This change was chiefly due to the influence of two men, Wilson and Lockhart, who, together with Hogg, had, under the old régime, contributed all there was of wit and sparkle. With these three writers, and the promise of further support, Blackwood had changed his mind as to putting his ill-fated periodical to the untimely end he had announced; and we have seen something, and shall see more, as to how far this determination was justified by success. In the meantime, it is essential to know a little of these two men, to whom primarily all the success was due.

John Wilson, the great Tory champion, was descended, not from a county family, but from a wealthy Paisley manufacturer; and, after taking all possible prizes at Glasgow University, went to conquer fresh worlds at Oxford, where he not only won the Newdigate prize of £50 by one of the best prize poems extant, in fifty lines, but excelled in all sports, to which a magnificent frame, a temper universally good, a wild exuberance of animal spirits, and a thirsty love of adventure could contribute.

Strange tales are told of his Oxford escapades; of recess rambles with strolling players; of wanderings, when smitten by the charms of a gipsy-girl, for weeks together with her tribe; of sojournings as a waiter at a country inn, to be close to one of the fair waitresses.

However, his dreams of adventure were surrendered only after having planned an expedition to Timbuctoo, and he purchased an estate at Windermere, to be near the Lake school of poets, with whom he soon threw in his fortune. After the publication of the “Isle of Palms,” and the “City of the Plague,” he joined the Scotch Bar, and in the Parliament House struck up an acquaintance with another briefless barrister--Lockhart, seven years younger than himself.

John Gibbon Lockhart was also educated at Glasgow University, where gaining the “Snell” foundation, he was sent, at sixteen, to Balliol; after taking a first-class degree he travelled on the Continent, returning only when it was necessary to enter at Edinburgh as an advocate. Silent in private life, he found he could not speak at all in public; and many years afterwards, when making a speech at a farewell dinner, given in honour of his departure to undertake the editorship of the _Quarterly_, he broke down, as usual, and stuttered, “Gentlemen, you know I can’t make a speech; if I could, we shouldn’t be here.”

Briefless both, and both endowed with strong literary tastes, they became sworn friends, though Wilson, with his splendid physique, his loose-flowing yellow hair, his deep-blue eyes, his glowing imagination, his eloquent tongue, and his defiance of all precedent, was as opposite a being as well could be imagined to Lockhart, who, to borrow Wilson’s own words, had “an e’e like an eagle’s, and a sort of lauch about the screwed-up mouth o’ him that fules ca’d nae canny, for they couldna tholl the meaning o’t; and either set dumb-foundered, or pretended to be engaged to sooper, and slunk out o’ the room.”

With two such men as these it was little wonder that Blackwood resolved to continue the battle. The weapon, however, which had been so successfully used in the onslaught upon the _Edinburgh Review_ became in the hands of young writers flushed with victory, instruments of aggression against those who had never offended; and, as it happened that the writers who were most personal in their attacks upon friend and foe alike were also the cleverest and most brilliant, Blackwood’s position became one of difficulty. Lockhart “who stung the faces of men”--and sometimes their hearts--cared little as to who his shafts were directed against so long as they were sharp and biting. Cameleon-like he appeared in a thousand different forms. Now as the “veiled editor” himself, now the Dr. Morris of “Peter’s Letters,” and now as Baron Lauerwinkel, stabbing his contemporaries under the guise of a German commentator. Against all the members of the “Cockney School,” a personal invective was habitually employed by him, at which in these calmer days of drier criticism we can only stand aghast. He says of Leigh Hunt, “The very concubine of so impure a wretch would be to be pitied; but, alas, for the wife of such a husband!”--and so forth.

In the February number of _Maga_ a new contributor, Billy Maginn, made his first bow to the public as Mr. Ensign O’Doherty. Maginn was at this time a rollicking young Irishman of marvellous classical and literary acquirements, who at four-and-twenty had achieved the difficult honour of taking a degree of Doctor of Laws at Dublin, never before earned by one so young. He had a wonderful gift of improvising in either verse or prose, and his talents were so versatile, his reading, though desultory, so universal, that he could immediately treat any subject, no matter what, in a sparkling and dashing manner. When, however, under the influence of liquor, he was perfectly unmanageable; and his writings bore every stamp of his own character. One of his first squibs in _Blackwood_ was a Latin version of “Chevy-chase,” which, in a foot-note expressed more than a doubt as to the Hebraical knowledge of Professor Leslie--an Edinburgh Reviewer who had recently been appointed to the University Chair of Philosophy. The enraged professor summoned the aid of the law. Blackwood accepted the challenge and inserted another article by Maginn, which stated that the professor “did not even know the alphabet of the tongue which he had the imprudence to pretend to criticise,” and charged him, in addition, of stealing his pet theories respecting heat, from an old volume of the “Philosophical Transactions.” The damages awarded amounted to £100, but as all the legal talent in Edinburgh was engaged in what was regarded as a party trial, the costs were unusually heavy. Nothing scared, however, Blackwood welcomed the writer to Edinburgh when he chose to cast off his incognita.

The magazine was thriving now, and circulated throughout the kingdom. Blackwood, busy as he was with its management, found time to push his general publishing business steadily forward. The issue of Brewster’s “Edinburgh Encyclopædia” was continued, and Lockhart’s talents were utilized beyond the pale of _Maga_. In 1818 Schlegel’s “History of Literature,” translated by Lockhart, was published; and in 1819 appeared Lockhart’s “Peter’s Letters to his Kinsfolk, by Dr. Peter Morris”--a series of sketches of all things Scotch, from which we extract an account of Blackwood and his shop:--

“First there is as usual a spacious place set apart for retail business, and a numerous detachment of young clerks and apprentices, to whose management this important department of the concern is entrusted. Then you have an elegant oval saloon, lighted from the roof, where various groups of loungers and literary dilettanti are engaged in looking at, or criticising among themselves, the publications just arrived by that day’s coach from town. In such critical colloquies, the voice of the bookseller himself may ever and anon be heard mingling the broad and unadulterated notes of its Auld Reekie’s music; for, unless occupied in the recesses of the premises with some other business, it is here that he has his usual station. He is a nimble, active-looking man of middle age, and moves from one corner to another with great alacrity, and apparently under the influence of high animal spirits. His complexion is very sanguinous, but nothing can be more intelligent, keen, and sagacious than the expression of the physiognomy; above all the gray eyes and eye-brows, as full of locomotion as those of Catalani’s. The remarks he makes are in general extremely acute--much more so indeed than any other member of the trade I ever heard speak upon such topics. The shrewdness and decision of the man can, however, stand in need of no testimony beyond what his own conduct has afforded--above all in the establishment of his magazine (the conception of which I am assured was entirely his own)--and the subsequent energy with which he has supported it through every variety of good and evil fortune. It would be unfair to lay upon his shoulders any portion of the blame which any part of his book may have deserved; but it is impossible to deny that he is well entitled to whatever merit may be supposed to be due to the erection of a work founded in the main upon good principles, both political and religious, in a city where a work upon such principles must have been more wanted, and, at the same time, more difficult than in any other with which I am acquainted.”

On leaving the shop, Dr. Peter is taken to dine at “a house in the immediate neighbourhood, frequently alluded to in the magazine as the great haunt of his wits.” This was Ambrose’s, mentioned in the “Caldee MS.”--“as thou lookest to the road of Gabriel and the land of _Ambrose_.” At this favourite tavern, at the _noctes cœnæque deum_, was foreshadowed what was destined to be by far the most interesting portion of the earlier series of _Blackwood_.

The first trace we can find in the magazine of these famous _réunions_ is in the number for August, 1819, where a work on military matter is reviewed by two different critics while enjoying their evening glasses at Ambrose’s. This was followed up next month by a paper which occupied the whole of the number, entitled “Christopher in the Tent”--a sketch, suppositious, of course, of a country expedition of the whole staff--full of rollicking humour and uproarious fun, with etchings by Lockhart and jokes by all.

In the following year, 1820, the first of Blackwood’s really classic novels appeared in the magazine. This was the “Ayrshire Legatees,” by John Galt; and the editor, quick to perceive talent and eager to retain it, published in rapid succession a series of tales and sketches by the modern Smollet.

This year, too, was an important one for both of the chief contributors. Lockhart, whose rising merits had long since attracted the attention of Scott, married the “Great Magician’s favourite daughter;” and Wilson, to the terror of half Edinburgh, became a candidate for the chair of Moral Philosophy at the University. Curious reports were spread of half true tales of youthful adventure, of bull-hunts by the shores of Windermere; of cock-fights in his own drawing-room; of a thousand escapades of one kind or another; and these were capped by a rumour that he was not very sound in either religion or morals; and even Tory counsellors shrunk from supporting a man who was said to be a fast liver and a free thinker. The Whigs started an excellent rival, Sir William Hamilton, and the contest was very keen. “I wad like to gie ye ma vote, Mr. Wulson,” said an Edinburgh magistrate, “but I’m feared. They say ye dunna expect to be saved by grace.” “I don’t know much about that, baillie; but if I am not saved by grace I am sure my works won’t save me.” “That’ll do, that’ll do; I’ll gie you my vote.” Others were of a like mind, for Wilson was a man whom to know was to love, and the election was secured.

Immediately after the election Wilson returned to Elleray to recruit; and here an event happened which not only shows his natural impetuosity, but which might have been of very serious consequence, and, as a version of the story has recently appeared in “Barham’s Life,” it may not be altogether out of place to give the correct version here.

Lord M----r and three Oxford friends, one of whom had just been ordained, had started in their own coach upon a rollicking tour homewards; their journey, even in those free-and-easy times, was marked by a blackguardism of conduct almost unparalleled.

At York they halted for a few days--few because the inhabitants would stand their presence no longer, and, after paying £150 for their hotel bills, and for the Vandalism they had committed in the town, they drove on to Windermere, and put up at the Ferry Hotel. Here they stayed for nearly four days, disporting themselves like Yahoos. Wilson, as is well known, was “Admiral of the Windermere Fleet,” and chanced, while they were in the neighbourhood, to hold a regatta, giving his friends a tea at Ullock’s Hotel, Bowness, when the amusements of the day were over.

Hither the travelling adventurers came by water; at the landing stage, however, one of the number, seeing a fisherman washing his nets in the lake, crept behind him, and with a shove and a hoarse laugh sent him into the water. Westmoreland blood is not easily cooled, and the peasant, seizing his attacker, ducked him within an inch of his life. Nothing daunted the other three proceeded to the hotel, and entered a room where tea was laid out for a large party; to knock the tray over, to pull the cloth off, to dance upon the tea-pot till it was flattened, and the crockery till it was smashed into a thousand smithereens, was, of course, only the work of an instant. Hearing the clatter, Mrs. Wilson hurried downstairs, and Lord M----r, mistaking her for the landlady, seized her by the neck, and tried to ravish a kiss. At this critical moment the Professor entered--one blow “from the shoulder” laid the noble lord at his feet; then, like a genuine old heathen warrior, placing one foot upon the neck of the prostrate wretch--“if you other two scoundrels are not out of this room in an instant, I’ll squeeze the man’s breath out of his body.” They heard--and fled. Wilson, in a fury of excitement, took boat to Belle Isle, and urged Mr. Curwen to act as his friend. Mr. Curwen represented that Lord M----r was utterly beneath contempt--that no professor of moral philosophy had ever been engaged in a cause of honour; that all his friends had been representing him as a quiet, orderly man--in fact, brought forward a thousand arguments which might have been of the utmost weight to a reasonable being--but not just at present to Wilson; he flung out of the room, crossed the lake, and sought a gallant naval officer, Captain Br----, who, a true Sir Lucius O’Trigger, said the matter was in good hands, and looked up his pistols. They adjourned to Elleray to wait the expected challenge: but on the evening of the following day, getting tired of inaction, they set out on a drive to see why the storm did not commence. Further search was endless. Lord M----r and his friends had taken to their coach and fled; they could not, however, get their horses out of the stables until they had paid an hotel bill of £120 and £20 to the landlord of Ullock’s Hotel for damages. Thus the affair ended happily, and Wilson was able to return peaceably to Edinburgh to fulfil his new duties.

Few men ever undertook so important a charge with so little preparation. “But there was,” says one who listened to him, “a genius in Wilson; there was grandeur in his conceptions, and true nobility in the tone and spirit of his lectures. I can compare them to nothing save the braying of the trumpet that sent a body of high-bred cavalry against the foe. ‘Charge! and charge home!’ Wilson’s action upon the better and more pure-minded of his pupils was pre-eminently beneficial. His lectures deeply influenced their characters for humanity, for unselfishness, for high and honourable resolve to fight the battle of life; like the old Danish hero ‘to dare nobly, to will strongly, and never to falter in the path of duty.’ Such was Wilson’s creed; and, till 1850, when he was found stricken down in his private room, ten minutes after the class hour, he astonished and delighted all that was intellectual in Edinburgh by these, aptly termed, ‘volcanic lectures on ethics.’”

Much work, however, had to be gone through before that date; his private fortune had been lost some years back by the failure of a house of business, and he was one of those men whom, the more work is thrown on them the more they are able to go through with.

In 1822 appeared the first specimen of his power as a novelist in the “Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life,” which went rapidly through edition after edition; and in the March of this year appeared also the first number of the _Noctes Ambrosianæ_--a curt dialogue between the editor and Ensign O’Doherty; it was not for seventeen numbers that Wilson, almost sorry, commenced that wonderful series that became one of the literary wonders of the day; and for thirteen years as Christopher North he continued to delight the world, and it is as Christopher North, in his shooting-jacket, with gun or fishing-rod, by the lochs or by the moors, amid the scenery which he has so marvellously limned, and the emotions to which he has given utterance, that he will be remembered to all time.

In 1824 we see that Carlyle gets his first pleasant encouragement in _Maga_, and Moir’s most famous production, the “Autobiography of Mansie Wauch,” appears. Moir--a young surgeon of only nineteen when he first appeared in the pages of the original _Edinburgh Monthly Magazine_--had at once attracted the attention of William Blackwood--“a man,” says Moir’s biographer, “of rare sagacity, courage, and persevering energy.” As “Delta,” in the pages of _Maga_, the popularity of Moir’s softer and sweeter pieces was very great; and when “Mansie” appeared, “there were districts,” says Aird again, “where country clubs, waiting impatiently for the magazine, met monthly as soon as it was issued, and had ‘Mansie’ read aloud by one of their number, amid explosions of congregated laughter.”

Lockhart, too, had since his marriage been wielding his pen as freely as ever. “Valerius” and “Adam Blair” had both been successful ventures for Blackwood; and were succeeded in 1822 by the “Spanish Ballads,” which have so much of the true ring of original poetry about them, that Lockhart’s friends always regretted that he did not devote his time more exclusively to the composition of some original poetical work. In 1825 the editorship of the _Quarterly_ was offered him, and Blackwood lost one of his earliest and strongest supporters. Shortly after this the other satirical spirit of the periodical--Billy Maginn--also moved southward.

But Blackwood was too firmly established now to dread the loss of any single contributor save one. The famous _Noctes_ were, in reality, only just commencing; and there it is that the character of the Ettrick Shepherd most shines--vicariously, however, for his popularity is chiefly due to the piquancy and vitality with which the genius of Wilson endowed him. Whatever is best in the national genius of Scotland, in humour, poetry, imagination, and fervour, are poured forth in the quaint and broad language of the Shepherd. But enough of the _Noctes_; are they not still familiar volumes upon the tables of all who read?

This year (1826), in which Blackwood was at the height of his success, was fatal, as we have before seen, to Constable; and with his failure disappeared for ever that rival to _Maga_, Constable’s _Edinburgh Monthly Magazine_.

In being thus minute in the history of the magazine, we can scarcely be said to be neglecting the history of its proprietor, for their careers were inextricably bound up together, and Blackwood looked upon it as a father might upon a darling son. In the exulting vanity of his success, he was induced, about 1825, to print for private circulation, an alphabetical list of contributors, and sent Wilson a proof, who, by way of remonstrance, dashed in the names of such celebrities as Omai the Otaheitan, and Pius VII., with the names of some of the most egregious fools and mountebanks he had ever met with, and returned it to the printer, who duly furnished Blackwood with a revise; and the absurd incongruity of the names showed him the incautious impropriety of which he had been guilty. Two impressions only were reserved, one for Blackwood and one for the professor.

As an editor, the punctuality and alacrity with which he acknowledged the communications of his contributors was wonderful; “and,” says the “Old Contributor,” “along with the mail coach copy of the magazine, or by an early post after its publication, came a letter to each contributor, full of shrewd hints for his future guidance, and often, not merely suggesting the subject for a future paper, but indicating with delicate hesitation the mode in which he fancied it might be discussed with the best advantage.... The ‘pudding’ was invariably associated with praise. At the head or foot of the welcome missive was a cheque for your article, the amount of which was not carved and patted like a pound of butter, into exact weight, but measured with no penurious hand.... He hated a cockney as Johnson hated a Scotsman, and considered all writers on this side the border, who did not contribute to _Maga_, as falling within this category.”

In 1827, Blackwood brought out two books, which were alike only in achieving, each of them, a vast popularity. One was “The Youth and Manhood of Cyril Thornton,” by Captain Hamilton, and the other “The Course of Time,” by Pollok, a Scottish, if not a British, classic. The _Edinburgh Encyclopædia_ was continued till its final completion in eighteen quarto volumes, and not the least important of his publishing successes was the reproduction of the chief distinct works of Wilson, Lockhart, Hogg, Moir, Galt, and other writers connected with the magazine. He also continued to the close of his career, to carry on an extensive trade in retail bookselling.

In addition to these heavy labours, he still found opportunity during some of the best years of his life to take a prominent part in the affairs of the city of Edinburgh, for which he was twice a magistrate, “and in that capacity,” says Lockhart, “distinguished himself by an intrepid zeal in the reform of burgh management, singularly in contrast with his avowed sentiments respecting constitutional reform.” Here he often exhibited in the conduct of debate and the management of less vigorous minds, a very rare degree of tact and sagacity.

To return to the magazine. After Lockhart and Maginn left Edinburgh, the bitterly personal tone by which it had been so frequently disfigured, was almost entirely dropped; and this negative fact, aided by the positive one of the great popularity of the _Noctes_, raised the circulation immensely.

In 1826, an early Elleray friend of Wilson’s, De Quincey, “the opium-eater,” began to discourse of things German in the pages of _Maga_; and in 1830, the “Diary of a Late Physician” was commenced. This, one of the most successful works of modern fiction, had, Warren tells us, “been offered successively to the conductors of three leading magazines in London, and rejected as ‘unsuitable for their pages,’ and ‘not likely to interest the public.’... I have this morning been referring to nearly fifty letters which he (Blackwood) wrote to me during the publication of the first fifteen chapters of his ‘Diary.’ The perusal of them occasioned me lively emotion. All of them evidence the remarkable tact and energy with which he conducted his magazine.... He was a man of strong intellect, of great personal sagacity, of unrivalled energy and industry, of high and inflexible honour in every transaction, great or small, that I ever heard of his being concerned in.”

Contemporary with the publication of the “Diary,” was that of the successful books “Tom Cringle’s Log” and “Sir Frizzle Pumpkin’s Nights at Mess,” the first by Michael Scott, and the second by the Reverend Mr. White. In May, 1832, appeared Wilson’s review of Mr. Tennyson’s first volume; in which the affectations of Mr. Tennyson’s earlier writings were ridiculed, but his more worthy pieces were praised in no niggardly terms. At the moment Mr. Tennyson was irritated, but his anger soon evaporated in some not very pungent lines to “Rusty, Crusty Christopher,” which he has long since seen fit to suppress; and, eventually, he exhibited a due acknowledgment of the truth of Wilson’s criticism, by removing several pieces and altering others. “Stoddart and Aytoun,” writes Wilson in this same review, “he of the ‘Death Wake’ and he of ‘Poland,’ are graciously regarded by old Christopher; and their volume--presentation copies--have been placed among the essays of those gifted youths, of whom, in riper years, much may be confidently predicted of fair and good”--a sentence worth quoting, when it is remembered that Aytoun afterwards married Wilson’s daughter, and in a few years occupied his position in the pages of _Maga_ itself.

In 1833, Blackwood was still full of schemes and enterprises; he commenced the publication of Alison’s “History of Europe.” Only the first two volumes were published, and then not altogether successfully, when Blackwood was stricken down by a mortal disease, a tumour in the groin, which, in a weary illness of four months, exhausted his physical energies, but left his temper calm and unruffled, and his intellect vigorous to the last. He was attended by Moir--the sweet-toned “Delta” of his magazine--who had another dying patient scarce a hundred yards off. This was Galt, who had been personally estranged from Blackwood by rough advice and strictures as to one of his stories. Now, however, that they lay dying so near each to each, the old friendliness returned, and Moir bore pleasant messages and hopeful wishes from one bedside to another. They never met again. Galt lingered on for years, but Blackwood died on the 10th of September, 1834, in the fifty-seventh year of his age.

We have already given his character as described by those who knew him best, and it were idle to add any weaker testimony.

He left a widow and a family of seven sons and two daughters, many of them very young; and the management of the business devolved upon the two elder, Robert and Alexander, who had for some years been associated with their father.

Until 1845, these gentlemen were at the head of the flourishing business, and with such a start they could not fail to succeed. The magazine, in spite of all rivals, continued to be as great a favourite as ever, though in a year or so after the death of the elder Blackwood, Wilson withdrew almost entirely from its pages, and his position was eventually occupied by his son-in-law, Professor Aytoun. Many new contributors, without distinction of sect or party, were added to the staff; and even Douglas Jerrold and Walter Savage Landor--ultra-radicals, both--were made free of its pages. John Sterling, “our new contributor,” as Wilson fondly called him, fully retained the old reputation for deliciously sparkling poems and essays; and Lord Lytton, in the “Poems and Ballads of Schiller,” kept alive the cosmopolitan spirit of poetry inaugurated by Lockhart. In 1845, Alexander Blackwood died, and was shortly afterwards followed by his brother, when John, the third son, the present proprietor of the business and the present editor of _Blackwood_, who was born in 1818, succeeded. So popular had _Maga_ become in the colonies, and more especially in the United States, that a reprint of it was regularly published there every month. Mr. John Blackwood took counsel with the American lawyers, obtained an American contributor, and then threatened the Yankee publisher with all the terrors of the law, if the number were pirated as usual--a successful step, for ever since that date a tribute tithe has been regularly paid for the right of republication. A branch house was started in London; the firm was also increased by the return from India of William Blackwood, who was a major in the Indian army.

In 1848 Lord Lytton commenced the “Caxtons,” and novel after novel from his pen appeared in _Maga_ to be anonymously successful even to the day of his death. For a period of twenty-five years, some of the finest novels and life-pictures in the language have made their first way to public favour through the medium of the magazine; and Mrs. Oliphant and George Eliot owed their first encouragement to the discernment of Mr. John Blackwood. That _Maga_ is still _facile princeps_ of the monthly literature is evident enough even from a bare mention of latest ventures, from the talent of “Earl’s Dene” and the wit of the “Battle of Dorking.”

Alison’s “History of Europe” very soon proved its worth in the eyes of the public; and among other more recent successes of the house we may mention the novels of George Eliot, particularly “Middlemarsh,” which came out in an altogether novel form.

As we shall not have another chance of returning to modern magazine literature, we may not inappropriately close the chapter with a short account of one or two of the most successful of the high-class publications.

It was not to be expected that the marvellous success of _Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine_ would be allowed to pass unchallenged. The honour as well as the fortunes of the Southron publishers forbade it. In 1820, the _London Magazine_, a name borrowed from an old and defunct periodical, was established by Baldwin, Craddock, and Joy, under the editorship of John Scott, formerly of the _Champion_ newspaper. Many men of talent joined the staff, but Scott’s old colleague, Wainwright, afterwards infamous as the insurance murderer, aided and abetted his chief in a series of very offensive personal articles. In two or three of them a fierce attack was made upon Sir Walter Scott, as being a mere pretender to the authorship of the Waverley Novels (which, as Scott was doing his utmost to hide his light under a bushel, was scarcely called for); and in addition to this the writers made an onslaught on all who were supposed to be connected with Blackwood or his magazine. Lockhart, with all the sensitiveness of your true satirist, called immediately for an apology, and was evaded by a demand that he should first disavow his connection with Blackwood. This was out of the question, and Mr. Christie, to whom Lockhart had entrusted negotiations, feeling that Scott was shuffling, and that he himself was being trifled with, let drop some expressions on his own account calculated to give offence. A meeting was arranged. Christie fired down the field, but Scott, not perceiving this, aimed deliberately at his opponent, but missed his mark. Christie, seeing his adversary again prepare to fire in his direction, did not a second time waste his powder, and the result was that Scott was mortally wounded.

Dreadful as was the catastrophe, and the sensation it made at the time, it tended to soften the asperities of the press, and was instrumental in bringing a better spirit to critical discussion.

After Mr. Scott’s death, the proprietorship of the _London Magazine_ was transferred to Taylor and Hessay, the poetical publishers. The first of these gentlemen was the original proclaimer of Francis as the author of the “Letters of Junius;” the second will ever be remembered for his kindliness to John Keats. Mindful of the success of Blackwood, they retained the editorship in their own hands, and, again like him, were most liberal in their payments--a pound a page for prose, and two pounds for verse, was the _honarium_ of ordinary contributors; Charles Lamb receiving, very fitly, two or three times that amount. It is Charles Lamb’s name that is now most intimately connected with the _London Magazine_, for here it was that the famous “Essays of Elia” first appeared. Among the other contributors we find many celebrated names; Hazlitt furnished all the articles upon the drama, Mr. Carlyle contributed the “Life and Writings of Schiller” to the last three volumes, and here De Quincey first published his “Confessions of an English Opium-Eater,” filled with the weirdest fancies and the loveliest word-pictures in our literature. Here, too, Tom Hood fleshed his maiden sword; and among the other writers we find the names of Keats, Landor, Hartley Coleridge, Barry Cornwall, and Bowring. Such an array of talent did not, however, avail, without steady editorial skill, to win a wide popularity, and in 1825 the publication was suspended.

We have seen that Maginn had accompanied Lockhart to the south. In 1827 the _Standard_ newspaper was founded, and he was installed in the editorial chair, where for some seven or eight years he drew £500 a year. His unrivalled facility in dashing off slashing articles upon any subject, quickly raised his income to eighteen or nineteen hundred; but his ever-increasing habits of intemperance rendered regularity of work impossible. Together with Lockhart and other writers, he planned a London monthly rival to _Blackwood_, and in 1829 an East India merchant of the name of Fraser was found willing to make the necessary advances, and _Fraser’s Magazine_ was started. An editor was kept to correct the proofs, and to go to prison, as occasion might require; but Maginn contributed a large proportion of the first three numbers, and was virtually the manager. Hogg, who, as Wilson said, had made a perfect stye of every magazine in the kingdom, was invited up to town. Its rollicking tone, untempered by any genuine humour, was wofully overdone, and smacked of the reeking laughter of the pothouse. Maginn, having no one to direct his shafts, attacked every one right and left, and selected a series of literary and political butts for continuous practice, among whom were Professor Wilson, Tom Campbell, and Lord Ellesmere, who were insulted in the most audacious manner; and language and criticism like this gave constant rise to cudgellings, law-suits, and duels. Maginn, however, had plenty of courage--was as reckless with his pistol as his pen. Captain Berkeley having called at the office, seen Fraser, and horsewhipped him for a libel, was challenged by the writer of it--Maginn--who, sobered down for the moment, stood his fire for three rounds with the utmost nonchalance. In spite of the humour of Thackeray and the philosophy of Carlyle, lately admitted to its pages, _Fraser’s Magazine_ was commercially not successful until Maginn and Hogg were banished from the staff. When, however, it got into better hands, and led a cleanlier life, an ample field was found for its circulation.

Thackeray, whom we mentioned above, was instrumental in effecting a thorough change in periodical literature. When under his direction, the _Cornhill_ was started, to give for a shilling all that had before been given for two shillings and sixpence, the bookselling world was incredulous of success, and the book-buying world scarcely hopeful. More than 100,000 copies of the first number were sold, and as soon as it was seen that a vastly wide-spread circulation is infinitely more valuable than a narrower sphere at a much higher rate, a crowd of other shilling magazines were produced, among which it is enough to mention _Temple Bar_, _London Society_, _Macmillan’s_, _Belgravia_, and a score of others, some of which were doubtless successful, but many more or less ephemeral. One detrimental fact has of course arisen from such a multiplicity of organs; the available talent of the day, such as it is, cannot now be concentrated. The same curse haunts the theatre; at present one “star” is as much as the greediest can expect on one stage.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

_CHAMBERS, KNIGHT, AND CASSELL_:

“LITERATURE FOR THE PEOPLE.”

We have already seen, in our short sketches of the Bells, the Cookes, the Donaldsons, and the Constables, some endeavour--neither faint nor altogether unsuccessful, yet not more than a trial venture, for education was still a monopoly of rank and riches--to render books the property and the birthright of the people. In our present chapter, however, we come to a new phase in the history of bookselling. The schoolmaster, as Brougham said, was abroad; the repressive taxes on knowledge either were, or were about to be, removed; learning, or a smattering of learning, was within the reach of most. The battle of future progress was to be fought out with the pen, just as the triumphs of early civilization had been achieved with the lance and with the sword. The public writer henceforth was to occupy the preacher’s pulpit, and his congregation, far above the limits of any St. Peter’s or St. Paul’s, was to be told only by millions. Books were to be no longer the curious luxuries of the rich man’s library, or the hoarded and hardly-earned treasures of the student’s closet, but were to be fairly placed at the disposal of the many.

Talent certainly, if not genius, is only the product of the requirements of the time and place; and as soon, therefore, as cheap books were in real request, men thoroughly competent and thoroughly earnest came forward to supply the want--fighting bravely, with all the strong energy of their wills, to do the work that each had chosen, and yet each as certainly acted upon invisibly, insensibly, and inevitably, by the true, if word-worn, laws of supply and demand.

The means by which this end was to be attained were many, and the labourers in the new fields of cheap literature numerous; but in our present chapter, as elsewhere, we have selected the representative men and the typical means. The names of Chambers, Knight, and Cassell (the latter certainly in a less degree) are inextricably woven into the movement, of which at present we have only seen the commencement; and the plan by which the most expensive treasures of literature, the choicest garnerings of our knowledge, were placed at the disposal of the meagrest purse, was almost universally that of distribution into small weekly or monthly parts, at an infinitesimal cost--a method that may with justice be styled the people’s intellectual savings bank; and it is to the early history of the people’s intellectual savings bank that we now address ourselves.[18]

Robert Chambers was born at Peebles, on the banks of the Tweed, on 10th July, 1802, two years later than his brother William, with whom his whole career is intimately connected. They were the sons of James Chambers, at one time a prosperous muslin weaver, employing some hundred looms. Their father is described as “a lover of books, a keen politician, and an open-hearted friend;” but having already been generous beyond his means to the poor French prisoners in Scotland, he was completely ruined by the introduction of machine-weaving looms, and was compelled to sell his modest patrimony, and remove with his family to Edinburgh, with only a few shillings in his pocket on which to start life afresh. But before this the young lads’ education had commenced. At Peebles there were certainly no newspapers; but their old nurse sung ballads and told them legendary stories of the former exploits of the warriors of the country side; and then there was old Tam Fleck, a host in himself, who had struck out a wandering profession of his own, a “flichty chield,” who went about with a translation of Josephus (Lestrange, 1720) from house to house. “Weel, Tam, what’s the news the nicht?” would one of the neighbours say, as Tam entered with the ponderous volume under his arm. “Bad news, bad news,” replied Tam. “Titus has begun to besiege Jerusalem--it’s gaun to be a terrible business.” At the little village school, too, William was introduced to Latin for the fee of five shillings a quarter, and Robert was well grounded by Mr. Gray in English for two shillings and twopence. Robert was a quiet, self-contained boy, unable from a painful weakness in his feet to join heartily in the usual games of his schoolfellows. “Books,” he writes in the preface to his collected works, “not playthings, filled my hands in childhood. At twelve I was deep, not only in poetry and fiction, but in encyclopædias.” Receiving his first education at the Burgh Grammar School, he acquired afterwards, at the Edinburgh High School, under the tuition of Mr. Benjamin Mackay, the usual elements of a classical education, embracing, indeed, as much Latin as enabled him in after-life to read Horace with ease and pleasure.

[Illustration: Dr. Robert Chambers.

1802-1871.]

After months of pence-scraping and book-hoarding, Robert succeeded in collecting a stock worth about forty shillings; and with nothing but these, his yearning for independence, and his determination to write books by-and-by, and at present to sell them, the young boy of sixteen opened a little shop or stall in Leith Street. His brother William, after serving an apprenticeship to a Mr. Sutherland, also started as a bookseller and printer in the immediate neighbourhood; and from this time forward--a time when most boys were cursing the master’s ferule and the Latin syntax--they were both independent. Of this period Robert gives the following graphic and almost painfully accurate account in a letter to Hugh Miller, written in 1854:--

“Your autobiography has set me a thinking of my own youthful days, which were like yours in point of hardship and humiliation, though different in many important circumstances. My being of the same age with you, to exactly a quarter of a year, brings the idea of a certain parity more forcibly upon me. The differences are as curious to me as the resemblances. Notwithstanding your wonderful success as a writer, I think my literary tendency must have been a deeper and more absorbing peculiarity than yours, seeing that I took to Latin and to books both keenly and exclusively, while you broke down in your classical course, and had fully as great a passion for rough sport and enterprise as for reading, that being again a passion of which I never had one particle. This has, however, resulted in making you, what I never was inclined to be, a close observer of external nature--an immense advantage in your case. Still I think I could present against your hardy field observations by frith and fell, and cave and cliff, some striking analogies in the finding out and devouring of books, making my way, for instance, through a whole chestful of the “Encyclopædia Britannica,” which I found in a lumber garret. I must also say that an unfortunate tenderness of feet, scarcely yet got over, had much to do in making me mainly a fireside student. As to domestic connections and conditions, mine being of the middle classes were superior to yours for the first twelve years. After that, my father being unfortunate in business, we were reduced to poverty, and came down to even humbler things than you experienced. I passed through some years of the direst hardship, not the least evil being a state of feeling quite unnatural in youth, a stern and burning defiance of a social world in which we were harshly and coldly treated by former friends, differing only in external respects from ourselves. In your life there is one crisis where I think your experiences must have been somewhat like mine; it is the brief period at Inverness. Some of your expressions there bring all my own early feelings again to life. A disparity between the internal consciousness of powers and accomplishments and the external ostensible aspect led in me to the very same wrong methods of setting myself forward as in you. There, of course, I meet you in warm sympathy. I have sometimes thought of describing my bitter painful youth to the world, as something in which it might read a lesson; but the retrospect is still too distressing. I screen it from the mental eye. The one grand fact it has impressed is the very small amount of brotherly assistance there is for the unfortunate in this world.... Till I proved that I could help myself, no friend came to me. Uncles, cousins, &c., in good positions in life--some of them stoops of kirks, by-the-by--not one offered, nor seemed inclined to give, the smallest assistance. The consequent defying, self-relying spirit in which, at sixteen, I set out as a bookseller with only my own small collection of books as a stock--not worth more than two pounds, I believe--led to my being quickly independent of all aid; but it has not been all a gain, for I am now sensible that my spirit of self-reliance too often manifested itself in an unsocial, unamiable light, while my recollections of ‘honest poverty’ may have made me too eager to attain and secure worldly prosperity.”

This period of struggle, however, opened his heart in after-life to all who were battling in like circumstances, for those who knew him well say that “many young literary men owed much to his help, for he was ever ready with kindly counsel as well as in more solid assistance when needed.” It is pleasant to think that his little ciphering book, still in existence (the handwriting of which is extremely neat, so neat indeed that the young penman was employed by the civic authorities to engross on vellum the address presented to George IV. on his visit to Edinburgh in 1822), containing his first year’s account of profit and loss, shows a balance small, certainly, but amply sufficient for his modest wants, for their united daily household expenses did not exceed one shilling.

Once a bookseller, Robert speedily found opportunity to become an author, and he undertook the editorship of a small weekly periodical called the _Kaleidoscope_; while his brother William, in order to do all the manual work connected with it, taught himself the art of printing, and with an old fount of type, and a clumsy wooden press, which he had purchased for three pounds, composed and worked off all the impressions; his own contributions, some of them poetical, “finding their way into the stick without the intervention of copy.” Here he was often seen, “a slim, light-eyed boy in his shirt-sleeves, tugging away with desperate energy at his old creaking press.” When his very small and imperfect fount was inadequate to the demand for larger letters, he would sit up, after his long day’s labour for half the night, carving the requisite capitals out of a piece of wood with his penknife. This first venture was necessarily short-lived, and died in the January of the year 1822--at which date they both gave up their bookstalls and took regular shops.

Nothing daunted by the untimely fate of his first effort, Robert entered the field again, and from his connection with the Tweed, and with the assistance of friends from that quarter, who aided him in the identification of some of Scott’s characters, he produced a book that seemed likely to be popular--“Illustrations of the Author of Waverley,” consisting of descriptive sketches of the supposed originals of the great novelist. The book was a success, not so much from a pecuniary point of view, but as introducing the author to the kindly notice of several literary men, and gaining him the friendship of Scott, still the anonymous “Wizard of the North,” who mentions him in his diary as “a clever young fellow, but spoils himself by too much haste.”

In the following year, when he was still only twenty years of age, he produced the “Traditions of Edinburgh”--a book that is, of his many contributions to the social and antiquarian history of his native land, still, perhaps, the most popular. Every type of it was set up, every sheet of it pulled at press, by his brother, and the first edition, dated 1823, presents a curious contrast to the handsome copy published in 1869. The _Traditions_ was a book the immediate popularity of which raised the author in public esteem, though its value is greater still at the present day, when many of the interesting associations connected with scenes and places are rapidly changing their character, or have been swept away altogether. Others than Scott even then expressed their wonder “where the boy got all his information.” In a sketch of Robert Chambers, by the son of one of his earliest friends, that appeared in _Lippincott’s Magazine_ for July, 1871, an amusingly frank letter is quoted, which shows that the young writer was already getting into the “swim” of authorship:--“You may depend upon a copy of the ‘Traditions of Edinburgh,’ and a review of them as soon as they are ready. I am busy just now in writing reviews of them myself, for the various works I can get them put into, being now come to a resolution that an author always undertakes his own business best, and is indeed the only person capable of doing his work justice. I stood too much upon punctilio in my maiden work, the ‘Illustrations,’ and left the review of it to fellows who knew nothing about the subject, at least had not yet thought of it half so much as I had, who was quite _au fait_ with the whole matter.”

From this period Robert Chambers’ books were marketable productions, and publishers began to seek out the young author. On the occasion of the great fires in November, 1824, when hundreds of poor families were rendered destitute, having no money wherewith to aid the victims, he wrote an account of the historical “Fires in Edinburgh,” and assigned the profits, which were considerable, to the fund collected for the benefit of the sufferers; and from this time books flowed from his pen in rapid succession. In 1825, he composed, for a bookseller, his “Popular Walks in Edinburgh,” partly the result of rambles in the nooks and corners of the quaint old city, in company with Sir Walter Scott. In 1826, he published his “Popular Rhymes of Scotland,” and then started on foot, as if to cure his ailment by pedestrianism, on a rambling journey through the country, and published the result of his explorations in his “Pictures of Scotland,” which passed through several editions, and is still a lively companion to the tourist. In this same year, 1827, he contributed to Constable’s _Miscellany_ the five volumes containing his “Histories of the Scottish Rebellion”--of which, that concerning the affairs of 1845, while true to facts, had all the glowing charms of a romance--and a “Life of James I.,” in two volumes. Next appeared three volumes of “Scottish Ballads and Songs,” followed by a “Biographical Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen”--the four volumes being commenced in 1832 and concluded in 1835--one of the most trustworthy and most entertaining books of reference in existence. A supplementary and fifth volume was afterwards added by the Reverend Thomas Thomson. Besides writing these various works, and giving some attention to his ordinary business, he found time to act as editor of the _Edinburgh Advertiser_.

In 1829, Robert Chambers married Miss Anne Kirkwood, of Edinburgh, a lady of very congenial qualities and attainments, and whose musical accomplishments constantly supplied him--after his heavy daily labours--with the recreation essential to one so passionately fond of music.

William Chambers was toiling away busily in his little shop in the Broughton suburb--writing, printing, and selling books. After some minor efforts at authorship, he wrote the “Book of Scotland,” giving an account of the legal constitution and customs of his native country. This was followed by the “Gazetteer of Scotland,” written in conjunction with his brother, which, from the then scanty printed material at their disposal, must have cost them an immensity of labour.

In 1832 came the turning point of the cause of the two brothers. The struggle for parliamentary reform had awakened a necessity for the spread of education. The Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge had already been doing good service to the cause, with Lord Brougham as its president, and Charles Knight as its manager. And on the 4th of February, 1832, appeared the first number of Chambers’ _Edinburgh Journal_. Mr. William Chambers has himself, in a letter to the editor of the _Athenæum_ (April 1st, 1871), replied to a statement in a former number, that upon seeing a copy of the prospectus of the _Penny Magazine_, he put forward several suggestions to one of the chief promoters, and that his self-love being wounded by receiving no reply to his letter, he determined to realize his unappreciated ideas himself. The following, in his own letter, is, of course, the accurate history of the origin of the periodical.

“In the beginning of January, 1832, I conceived the idea of a cheap weekly periodical devoted to wholesome popular instruction, blended with original amusing matter, without any knowledge whatever of the prospectus of the _Penny Magazine_, or even hearing that such a thing was in contemplation. My periodical was to be entitled Chambers’ _Edinburgh Journal_, and the first number was to appear on the 4th of February. In compliment to Lord Brougham as an educationist, I forwarded to him a copy of my prospectus, with a note explaining the nature of my attempt to aid as far as I was able in the great cause with which his name was identified. To this communication I received no acknowledgment, but no self-love was wounded. My work was successful, and I was too busy to give any consideration as to what his lordship thought of it, if he thought of it at all. The first time I heard of the projected _Penny Magazine_ was about a month after the _Journal_ was set on foot and in general circulation.”

The success of the new _Journal_ was unprecedented; it immediately obtained a circulation of 50,000, and by 1845, when the folio, after a trial of the quarto, was exchanged for the octavo form, 90,000 copies were required to supply the demand. Started six weeks before the _Penny Magazine_, it is still the most successful and the most instructive of the cheap hebdomadal periodicals. At the very first flush of success, Robert Chambers’ assistance was called in as editor, and in a short time the brothers finally entered into partnership as publishers; and their triumphs were henceforth achieved conjointly--“both of them,” says an able writer in an old number of the _Dublin University Magazine_, “trained to habits of business and punctuality; both of them upheld in all their dealings by strict prudence and conscientiousness; and both of them practised, according to their different aims and tendencies, in literary labour.”

Seldom, if ever, have two members of a publishing firm been so admirably fitted for their business.

From the very outset the brothers were thrown entirely on their own resources; they had no literary jealousy, and eagerly enlisted on their staff most of the young aspirants in Scotland, who have since achieved a world-wide reputation. It was, however, to Mr. Robert Chambers’ contributions that the _Journal_ was primarily indebted for success, his delightful essays, æsthetic and humorous, permanently fixing the work in public esteem. Gifted with a keenly-accurate observation, with a grave yet kindly humour, his vignettes of life and character, under the _nom de plume_ of Mr. Baldestone, were so truthful and so “telling,” that they met with a very favourable reception, when republished separately, in seven volumes, in 1844. “It was my design,” he says in the preface, “from the first, to be the essayist of the middle class--that in which I was born and to which I continue to belong. I, therefore, do not treat their manners and habits as one looking _de haut en bas_, which is the usual style of essayists, but as one looking round among the firesides of my friends.” This was, doubtless, the primary secret of their success.

When Leigh Hunt, in 1834, established his _London Journal_, he announced that he intended to follow the plan of Chambers’ _Edinburgh Journal_, “with a more southern element” added. This compliment, from a veteran so famous and so experienced, led to an interchange of editorial courtesies, in the course of which Robert Chambers claimed the distinction for his brother William--which had been somewhere awarded to Leigh Hunt--of having been the first to introduce cheap periodical literature of a superior class. Leigh Hunt, in reply, while upholding his own title to priority by the indubitable evidence of the dates of his _Indicator_, _Tatler_, &c., cordially admitted that his young rivals had more wisely achieved the desired end by interesting a wider and less educated public.

In a few years all Edinburgh proved to be equal only to produce the Scotch edition of the _Journal_, a branch house was established in the English metropolis, the command of which was entrusted to a younger brother, Mr. David Chambers, who was born in the year 1820, and who was afterwards taken into partnership. Unlike his brothers, he had little taste for literature. In connection with the subsequent conduct of the _Journal_, we may mention the names of T. Smibert and Leich Ritchie (both deceased), and Mr. W. H. Wills, and Mr. James Payn, the sensational novelist, who for many years has had the leading conduct.

In 1844, Robert Chambers published a work written in conjunction with Dr. Carruthers, afterwards greatly enlarged, which takes a far higher rank than any preceding compilation of a similar character. This was Chambers’ “Cyclopædia of English Literature,” in which no less than 832 authors are treated critically and biographically, specimens of their most characteristic writings being quoted in addition. From the intrinsic value of the contents, and the marvellous cheapness of the price, a great popularity was attained, and in a few years 130,000 copies were sold in England alone, while in America it was at least as popular.

Among his other works at this period we may mention a labour of love--a chronological edition of Burns’ poems, so arranged with a connecting narrative as to serve also as a biography. The proceeds of the sale went towards securing a comfortable fortune for the poet’s sister. We must mention, also, in passing, “The Domestic Annals of Scotland,” and a dainty little volume of verse, printed for private circulation only, in 1835.

A book appeared about this time entitled, “Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation,” which was written to prove that the Divine Governor of this world conducts its passing affairs by a fixed rule, termed natural law. The orthodox party professed to be alarmed at the temerity of the writer, and by them the book was hailed with contumely. It was known that the proof sheets had passed through the hands of Mr. Robert Chambers, and on no better authority than this, not only did the public believe the story, but the “Vestiges” was entered in the catalogue of the British Museum under his name. A writer in the _Critic_ boldly stated, “on eminent authority,” that George Combe was the author, and though this was contradicted, and though the authorship is still a mystery, it would appear that Combe had, at all events, something to do with the work. In 1848, Robert Chambers was selected to be Lord Provost of Edinburgh; he was requested to deny the authorship, but his refusal to plead, and his consequent retirement, were probably due to his contempt for people who could make the authorship of a book a barrier to civic honours. His brother William, however, afterwards filled the office with such satisfaction to his fellow-citizens, that he was re-elected, after serving the prescribed term of three years.

Many of Robert Chambers’s earliest essays in his _Journal_ had been upon geology, and to this branch of science he became more and more addicted, and as a geologist and antiquarian he turned to good account a somewhat extensive course of foreign travel. In 1848 he visited Switzerland; in 1849 Sweden and Norway; and in later years Iceland and the Faroe Isles, Canada, and the United States. One of the results of these travels was a volume on “Ancient Sea Margins”--containing a new theory, that had previously been propounded by him in a paper read before the “British Association,” and had attracted no little attention.

To supplement what their _Journal_ could not supply to the reading public, he and his brother also wrote, with not very much assistance, and, of course published, “Information for the People,” “Papers for the People,” and a series of miscellaneous tracts: 200,000 of the first named are said to have been sold.

During all this hard work Robert Chambers helped to conduct one of the largest printing and publishing concerns in Scotland. One of the chiefest triumphs of the brothers was “Chambers’s Educational Course,” an educational project so complete that few men could have ever hoped to realize it. This series begins with a three-halfpenny infant primer, and goes onward through a whole library of grammars, dictionaries, histories, scientific, and all primary class books, and cheap editions of standard foreign and classical authors, till it culminates in a popular “Encyclopædia” in ten thick volumes. This “Encyclopædia” was originally founded on the “German Conversations’ Lexicon,” but the articles were in all cases either re-written or thoroughly revised. It admirably supplies the wants of those readers for whom the “Penny Encyclopædia” was in the first instance devised, before its expansion into the present more expensive form.

Literary honours fell fast upon Robert Chambers. He enjoyed the rare distinction of being nominated into the Athenæum Club by its committee of management, and was elected a member of many scientific societies; and finally the University of St. Andrews conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Laws.

In 1864 appeared his first real work, the “Book of Days,” but the success that attended it was dearly bought. He had found it necessary to reside for some years in London, in order to avail himself of the inexhaustible treasures of the British Museum, but on his return to Scotland he was often heard to say “that book is my death-blow.” His nervous system was shattered, and literary labour was at an end. After the completion of seventy volumes, and innumerable articles, compelling almost incessant mental effort for five-and-forty years, the overworked brain at last demanded repose. The descendants of Smollett, the novelist, offered him the use of some hitherto untouched family documents, and he was tempted once more to essay the long-loved task of composition; the volume was printed in 1867, and is said to bear painful marks of the undue strain from which his mind had suffered.

The very last years of his life were spent at St. Andrews, where on March 17th, 1871, he died, saying, “Quite comfortable--quite happy--nothing more!” leaving a family of nine children, one of whom, Mr. Robert Chambers, has for some time been a partner in the firm. His second wife (his first had died in 1863) did not survive him.

Few men have worked so hard as Robert Chambers; his life, busy in its threefold capacity of author, editor, and publisher, can scarcely have known an unprofitable hour; few men have worked so well, for not a line that he has written, not a book that he has published, but has tended in some way to the education and social improvement of the people; and few men have reaped such an honourable and profitable reward for their labours.

Dr. Carruthers, his colleague in the “Cyclopædia of English Literature,” says, “His worldly prosperity kept pace with his acquirements and his labours; he was enabled to practise a liberal hospitality and a generous citizenship; strangers of any mark in literature or science were cordially welcomed, and a forenoon antiquarian ramble with Robert Chambers in the old town of Edinburgh, or a social evening with him in Doune Terrace, were luxuries highly prized and long remembered. Thus we have an instance of a life meritorious, harmonious in all its parts, happy, and benefiting society equally by its direct operation and its example.”

The news of Robert Chambers’s death so affected his brother, Mr. David Chambers, who was at that time confined to his home through illness, that it caused the rupture of a blood-vessel in the liver, and three days after this he followed his elder brother; like him he had been an earnest friend of press reform, and had devoted much of his time to promoting the repeal of the fiscal restrictions upon newspapers.

Mr. William Chambers, who undertook from the first the largest share in the mercantile concerns of the firm, has still found time to accomplish a large amount of literary work. In addition to the book previously mentioned, he has published, among others, “Travels in Italy,” and a “History of Peebleshire,” and the “Memoir of Robert Chambers,” besides contributing freely to the _Journal_, and other of their serial publications.

* * * * *

Charles Knight was born at Windsor in the year 1791, and was the only child of his father, a bookseller and printer of some importance in that town, who, by his connection with the _Microcosm_, a paper conducted by Canning, and written by Hookham Frere, “Bobus” Smith, and other Etonians, had made many influential friends. The last number of this schoolboy journal appeared, however, four years before the birth of his son.

Charles was educated at the school of a Dr. Nicholas at Ealing, and his early avidity for reading had, he himself thinks, much to do with rendering his constitution weak and feeble. At the age of fourteen he signed indentures of apprenticeship to his father, and in 1812, when he attained his majority, he was sent up for a few weeks to London to undergo a short term of training in the office of the _Globe_ newspaper, so as to give him practical experience in reporting and other journalistic work; for from early boyhood he had determined to possess a paper of his own. On Aug. 1st of the same year his desire was realized, and, in conjunction with his father, he started the _Windsor and Eton Express_, the editorship of which he continued up to the year 1827, finding time, however, in the midst of his busy life, to devote to the cultivation of more general literature. In 1813 appeared the first original work from his pen, “Arminius,” a tragedy--which had been offered to the manager of Drury Lane Theatre, and had of course been rejected, but very courteously. During his residence at Windsor he was co-editor, with H. E. Locker, of the _Plain Englishman_, a miscellaneous journal, which only lasted from 1820 to 1822.

His first venture into the dimly descried regions of popular literature appeared, he says, in the _Windsor Express_ for Dec. 11, 1819, in a paper called “Cheap Publications,” and was followed by others, till, in one of the last numbers of the _Plain Englishman_, we come across an article entitled “Diffusion of Useful Knowledge”--a straw which shows which way his mind was turning.

[Illustration: Charles Knight.

1791-1873.]

Among Mr. Knight’s other literary labours at this time, in 1820, he undertook the editorship of the _Guardian_, again in partnership with a colleague; and his life, divided between Windsor and London, became one of very pleasurable excitement. His connection, too, with a literary journal, served to render him familiar with the aspects of the publishing trade in London, and at the end of 1822 he sold his share of the _Guardian_, and took up his position in Pall Mall East, and started as a publisher.

One day, shortly after this, coming back jaded and weary from his London office he found two Eton lads--W. M. Praed and Walter Blunt--waiting at his cottage with an eager proposal that he should publish an Eton miscellany. Generously and sympathetically did Mr. Knight enter into the schemes of the schoolboys; and the plan of the _Etonian_ was forthwith drawn up. Knight found much pleasure in watching and assisting the young periodical, which was a kind of pleasant nursery ground for the growth and display of the youthful talent of which Eton then proudly and unwontedly boasted. “It was refreshing,” he writes, “after the dry labours of his day in town, to watch the bright, earnest, happy face of Mr. Blunt, who took a manifest delight in doing the editorial drudgery; the worst proofs (for in the haste unavoidable in periodical literature he would sometimes catch hold of a proof _un_read) never disturbed the serenity of his temper. To him it seemed a real happiness to stand at a desk in the composing-room.” But Praed it was, with his sparkling wit, his elegant aptness of expression, and his boyish gallantry that yet smacked of the wise experience of age, who was the life and soul of the project, and his contributions eventually occupied fully one-fourth of the whole miscellany, and when he went to Cambridge it was thought advisable, perhaps found necessary, to terminate the _Etonian_ altogether. Still Mr. Knight’s chief hopes as a publisher were centred in the promise of his young Eton friends, and during a week passed with them at Cambridge the general plan of _Knight’s Quarterly Magazine_ was settled, and he was introduced to Derwent, Coleridge, Malden, and Macaulay, afterwards his chief contributors.

Mr. Knight was his own editor, and with the assistance of such writers, his periodical could not fail to be a success. Even Christopher North, in Edinburgh, was moved to write of them as a hopeful class of “young scholars,” and Knight retorted to this stale accusation of youth by declaring that he had read and rejected seventy-eight prose articles, and one hundred and twenty copies of occasional verses, “all the property of the old periodical press,” while Praed wrote saucily enough, that “Christopher North is a barn from his wig to his slippers.”

After the first two numbers, Macaulay felt constrained to retire, as his father objected to the political opinions of the magazine, but he was luckily induced to alter his mind, and to the future numbers he contributed the best of his early poems--notably, “Moncontoria” and “Ivry” and the “Songs of the Civil Wars.” Here, too, were printed Praed’s most charming _jeux d’esprits_, so called, though depth of feeling and nobleness of sentiment often lay beneath their airy bantering tone. De Quincey, then almost starving in the streets of London, was made lovingly free of its pages, and the _Quarterly Magazine_ attained a great celebrity as the most classical, and yet the lightest, gayest, and most pleasing periodical of the day.

Unfortunately a division occurred among the contributors themselves--their opinions, and the opinions they expressed, were as widely divergent as the four winds of heaven--their supply of matter was quite irregular, varying with the individual amusements of the hour--reaching, Knight tells us, to “wanton neglect;” and after many dissensions, the publisher felt “that he had to choose between surrendering the responsibility which his duties to society had compelled him to retain, or to lose much of the assistance which had given to the _Quarterly Magazine_ its peculiar character.” He could not hesitate in his choice, and with the sixth number the work ceased, being, however, continued under the editorship of Malden, and in the hands of another publisher for a quarter longer, but the panic that ruined Scott and Constable, and shook so many publishing houses, made small work of the transplanted _Quarterly_.

This period of Knight’s life may be regarded as the time when he sowed his publishing wild oats; henceforth sterner work awaited him. Among, however, the earliest of his distinct publications may be mentioned Milton’s “Treatises on Christian Doctrine,” then first discovered among the documents at the State Paper Office.

Knight had fortunately no bills afloat at the time of the panic which, in connection with his endeavour to assist the Windsor bank, he so graphically describes--“In the Albany we found the partners of one firm deliberating by candle light--a few words showed how unavailing was the hope of help from them: ‘We shall ourselves stop at nine o’clock.’ The dark December morning gradually grew lighter; the gas lamps died out; but long before it was perfect day we found Lombard Street blocked up by eager crowds, each man struggling to be foremost at the bank where he kept his accounts, if its doors should be opened.” Still, Mr. Knight, though not directly involved, found, like many other publishers, that the schemes of 1825 would not sell in 1826, and that the booksellers must, spite of themselves, “hold on” as best they could. Colburn, indeed, was the only one who still continued his ventures, and from the light and soothing nature of his publications, chiefly fictions calculated to allay the torture of reality, he was able to reap a reward for his temerity.

Every day found Mr. Knight more sick of his prospects than the last. The _Brazen Head_, a weekly satirical and humorous journal of his just started, lightened though it was by the rippling wit of Praed, fell upon the public like a leaden lump.

Mr. Knight’s brain had long been filled with a scheme of popular and cheap literature, and he now made up his mind to start afresh--to tempt the world and bless it with a real “National Library,” so good that all should desire, so cheap that all would buy. Lord Brougham, who was at that moment organizing the “Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge,” heard of this plan and obtained an introduction to the schemer. The idea of the National Library was at first taken up by the Society, but was finally adopted by John Murray. Differences of opinion as to the editorial responsibilities, and the arrangements as to the transfer of his stock to Albemarle Street, presented new difficulties, and thoroughly sick of the whole matter, Mr. Knight suddenly abandoned it. The germ of his idea, however, bore fruit in the “Treatises” published by the Society in March, and in the “Cabinet Encyclopædia,” issued a few years afterwards by Longman. “My boat,” writes Mr. Knight, “was stranded. Happily for me there were no wreckers at hand ready for the plunder of my damaged cargo.” Anyhow, for the time being, publishing was over. To a man of indomitable pluck, and blessed with the pen of a ready writer, journalism presents a tolerably open field, and to newspaper work Mr. Knight again addressed himself; but in a few weeks a document, which Mr. Knight values, he says, as a soldier values his first commission, reached him containing an offer of the superintendence of the Society’s publications, an offer that was forthwith accepted. As a first step, the “Library of Entertaining Knowledge” was commenced, and, in 1828, he started the _British Almanac_, and the _Companion to the Almanac_--a wonderful change for the better after the “Poor Robins” and “Old Moores” of the past.

In 1832, Mr. Knight was offered an official position at the Board of Trade, but fortunately for the education and interests of the people he had the courage to refuse it, having the pleasure, however, of being asked to recommend some one else to the post. In the March of this year appeared the first number of the _Penny Magazine_, subsequent by only a very few weeks to _Chambers’s Edinburgh Journal_.

The new periodical had been suggested by Mr. Hill in a conversation about the wretched character of the cheap prints of the period. “Let us,” he exclaimed, “see what something cheap and good can accomplish! Let us have a penny magazine!” “And what shall be the title?” asked Knight. “The _Penny Magazine_.” At once they went to the Lord Chancellor, who entered cordially into the project, and though a few old Whig gentlemen on the committee urged that the proposed price was below the dignity of the Society, and muttered, “It is very awkward, very awkward,” Mr. Knight undertook the risk, and was immediately appointed editor.

The success of the magazine was amazing even to the sanguine editor; at the close of 1832 it reached a sale of 200,000 in weekly and monthly parts--representing probably a million readers, and Burke had only forty years previous estimated the number of readers in this country at 80,000! Among the contributors it will be sufficient to mention Long, De Morgan, Creswick, Allan Cunningham, and Thomas Pringle, whilom editor of the Whiggish _Blackwood_. One writer, however, stands out from the rest, both by his misfortunes and his attainments--coming not only under the “curse of poverty’s unconquerable ban,” but being completely deaf and almost dumb. Recommended to Mr. Knight as an extraordinary, though unknown genius, who had been brought up in a charity school, stricken with a sudden and melancholy affliction, who had worked his way to St. Petersburg, and thence through Russia to Moscow, and on to Persia and the Desert; who knew French and Italian perfectly; the kind-hearted publisher, from the very first, took a liking to Kitto--soon to be known as an eminent traveller, Orientalist, and Biblical commentator. After the first trial article of “The Deaf Traveller,” Kitto was regularly engaged to assist Mr. Knight personally in his own room; and here in his spare time he managed to acquire German.

In spite of the somewhat scurrilous attacks made upon the _Penny Magazine_ by Colburn in his _New Monthly_ it was a continuous success, and ultimately paved the way to a work infinitely more important--the “Penny Encyclopædia.”

It will be essential here to understand the position of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge.

This Society was founded in 1826 by Lord Brougham and other gentlemen, described by Mr. Knight as the leading statesmen, lawyers, and philanthropists of the day. “It was a blow aimed at the monopoly of literature--the opening of the flood-gates of knowledge.” At first the Society possessed no charter, but obtained one in May, 1832, not probably a very useful or essential gift, nominating Brougham as president, Lord John Russell as vice-president, and William Tooke, Esq., treasurer. No subscriptions were called for, or rather these means had been at once abandoned, and the “arrangements made with the publisher since the beginning of the Society have gone upon the principle of leaving the committee as far as possible free from risk, and unencumbered with commercial responsibility; but at the same time deriving a fair proportion of pecuniary advantage from the ultimate success of the undertaking.” The publisher in the first instance paid down a certain sum for the copyright, sufficient to cover the disbursements to the authors by the committee, who, after a limit of sale, received a royalty of so much per thousand copies. At first the Society’s publications abounded in almanacs; “The British Almanack,” “The British 4_d._ Almanack,” “The Penny Sheet Almanack,” and “The British Working-man’s Almanack.” Then came the _Penny Magazine_, the _British Quarterly Journal of Education_, and the “Penny Encyclopædia,” the first number of which was issued in July, 1833. It was originally projected to form a moderate-sized book of eight volumes, and every article was to be written expressly for the work. This limited size was found to be incompatible with original work by the best writers, and after a year the price and quantity were doubled; after three years more, quadrupled. In the present form, and according to the original scheme, the issue would have taken thirty-seven years. But this increase of matter, while it largely enhanced the intrinsic value of the work, was utterly fatal to its commercial success. The committee got, says Mr. Knight, the credit of the work, without incurring any of the risk; and the expenditure on literary matter alone amounted to £40,000. The sale, owing to the increase of matter and price, rapidly declined: at first consisting of 75,000 copies, it fell at the increase to twopence to 55,000, in the second year to 44,000, and at the close of the fourpenny period it was actually reduced to 20,000; and this chronic loss entailed upon Mr. Knight for the duration of eleven years absorbed every other source of profit in his extensive business. This loss was still further augmented by the enormously heavy paper duty of threepence per pound, but which was reduced in 1836 to half that price.

Mr. Knight was originally associated with Mr. Long in the editorial duties, but soon wisely gave up the management of the literary department.

Mr. George Long, who is now leaving a Professorship at Brighton College for Chichester,[19] had been bracketed with Macaulay and Professor Malden for the Craven Scholarship--a fact that says something, were it necessary, for his attainments--and was able to gather together the most able men of the day on his staff, all of whom, whether belonging to the Society or otherwise, were handsomely remunerated for their labour. Upon De Morgan rested, perhaps, after the editor, the heaviest labour, for he undertook the whole department of Mathematical Science. The Biographical portion was chiefly due to G. C. Lewis, G. Long himself, P. and W. Smith, and Donaldson. It is impossible, necessarily, to mention many out of the 200 contributors, and it will suffice for our purpose to enumerate the names of Professors Craik, Forbes, and Donaldson, and Messrs. Ellis, Lewis, and Kitto, as writers on all general subjects; and Mr. W. J. Broderip as taking the Natural History department. Quite a new feature in the composition of the staff was the introduction of foreign writers of eminence, who composed either in their own language or in ours, all the articles being revised by the editor and his assistants, and rendered into perfectly good English.

We must follow Mr. Knight’s own publications, remembering that their issue was contemporary with the “Encyclopædia.” Next to that in costliness was the “Gallery of Portraits,” issued in monthly parts at half-a-crown each, to which, among other authors, Hallam and De Quincey contributed.

The connection between Mr. Knight and Kitto was still very strong and affectionate. In January, 1834, we find him detailing pleasantly the amount of work he had to do for £16 a month--“a most comfortable sum for me”--and later on we come across him asking Mr. Knight’s advice in regard to his proposed marriage. “I have felt it prudent and proper to postpone it for awhile until I should have consulted with you.... I have hitherto been so connected in my employments with those who took a strong personal interest in my affairs, and to whom I am accustomed to talk freely about them, that I am led to trouble you more about myself and my circumstances than is warranted by my existing relations. If so, I doubt not your kindness will readily excuse the absence in a dumb man of those little proprieties with which he has not had much opportunity of becoming acquainted.” A curious subject on which to consult one’s publisher, but then Mr. Knight was something more, and immediately promised such remuneration and regular employment as would free Kitto’s entrance into wedded life from the charge of imprudence.

The “Bilder Bibel,” then publishing in Germany, suggested to Mr. Knight his “Pictorial Bible;” and Kitto, after having tested his own fitness for the work thoroughly, boldly undertook to execute the whole task, giving up, of course, all other work, and receiving £250 a year during the progress of the book, and on completion such a sum of money as seemed a small fortune. This completed--and it was one of the most remunerative works upon which Mr. Knight was ever engaged--he commenced his “Palestine,” and in such subjects Kitto found at last his true vocation.

The “Pictorial History” occupied seven years in coming out, in parts, of course. Mr. Craik wrote the social, religious, and commercial portions, and Mr. C. Macfarlane undertook the larger department of civil and military history; many other gentlemen also contributed. The same fault occurred here as in the “Penny Encyclopædia”--it was too long for serial publication. By an error of judgment on the part of the editors, four of the eight volumes were devoted to the reign of George III.; the subscribers became weary, and the project turned out to be a commercial failure.

This was followed in 1843 by the “Illustrated London,” certainly the best and most trustworthy history we yet have _in extenso_ of the great metropolis.

The issue of the “weekly volumes” was also in progress, commencing with a “Life of Caxton,” by Mr. Knight himself; but the series soon became the “shilling volumes.”

The _Penny Magazine_ terminated on the 27th Dec., 1845, and its continuation, _Knight’s Penny Magazine_, proving but barely remunerative, the hint was taken, Mr. Knight declaring that it should never be said of him, “Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage.”

The “Penny Encyclopædia” terminated in December, 1843, and though a ruinous loss to Mr. Charles Knight, was at the same time, as regards the general public, perhaps the greatest publishing triumph that had yet been accomplished. The banquet given in his honour by the contributors was, Mr. Knight tells us, the proudest moment in his life, and was certainly a tribute as well earned as it was unique.

Into the next and grandest venture of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge Mr. Knight could not afford to take part--fortunately, indeed, for the scheme, magnificent but futile, proved a deathblow to the Society. The “New Biographical Dictionary” was intended to assume proportions beyond anything of the kind hitherto attempted; but to the astonishment of the committee it was found that when the letter A was completed seven half volumes had been filled, and a loss of £5000 had been incurred. This was bad enough, but when contributors were requested to send in suggestions as to the letter B, one man alone forwarded more than 2000 names. By this time the Society had exhausted its available funds, and, frightened by the prospect, thought itself quite justified in retiring from the public scene. “Its work is done, for its greatest object is achieved--fully, fairly, and permanently. The public is supplied with cheap and good literature to an extent which the most sanguine friends of improvement could not in 1826 have hoped to witness in twenty years.”

In 1843, Mr. Knight had published his “Life of Shakespeare,” a work by which, as a valuable history of Elizabethan times, and a charming, though necessarily an imaginary, sketch of our greatest poet, the author will, we think, though multitudinous in his writings, be most distinctly remembered. His edition of Shakespeare, which for reverent love and editorial labour is almost unrivalled, has appeared in various guises, as the “Popular,” the “Library,” the “National,” the “Cabinet” (three editions), the “Medium” (three editions), and the “Stratford” (three editions).

By far the most remarkable of Mr. Knight’s labours, and perhaps the most useful, was his “Shilling Volumes for all Readers” (1844-1849), 186 volumes, 16mo., in all; for though his editorial labours were terminated when about two-thirds of the work was completed, he still considered himself responsible as regards the general character of the works. “I may confidently state,” he says, “that in this extensive series, no single work, and no portion of a work, can be found that may not safely be put into the hands of the young and uninformed, with the security that it will neither mislead nor corrupt.” In a postscript to the last volume he adds: “I now venture to believe that I have accomplished what I proposed to do. First, I have endeavoured to produce a series of books which comprehends something like the range of literature which all well-educated persons desire to have at their command.” Without attempting any very exact classification of the various subjects of the volumes, they may be thus distributed into large departments of knowledge:--

Analytical Accounts of Great Writers, English and Foreign 13 Biography 33 General History 5 English History 26 Geography, Travel, and Topography 33 Natural History 17 Fine Arts and Antiquities 8 Arts and Sciences, Political Philosophy, &c. 14 Natural Theology and Philosophy 15 General Literature 16 Original Fiction 6 ---- 186

After this noble endeavour in a good cause, it is literally heartrending to read Mr. Knight’s candid confession that not twenty volumes of the series achieved a circulation of 10,000 copies.

As soon as the Poor Law Board was established, Mr. Knight became officially connected with it as an authorized publisher, and from that time he almost entirely gave up general publishing, and his works were entrusted to the care of other firms.

The copyright of the “Encyclopædia” remained in his possession, and was turned to good account in the “National Encyclopædia,” and later on in the “English Encyclopædia,” in which, however, nothing was reprinted without thorough revision, many of the articles being entirely new.

Several of Mr. Knight’s productions, such as “The Land we Live in,” commenced in 1847, turned out, in the hands of the “copy publisher,” to be perfect mines of wealth.

In 1854 appeared the “Popular History of England;” it was completed in 1862.

In 1851 we find Mr. Knight going about as joint manager with Mr. Payne Collier, of that band of illustrious amateur actors who have become so famous. Among them we find Charles Dickens, Mark Lemon, G. Cruikshank, Wilkie Collins, and R. H. Horne. “A joyous time, this,” writes Mr. Knight, who had played the part of “One Tonson, a bookseller,” “left-legged Jacob” having, he adds, “but a paltry representative.”

Among Mr. Knight’s chief literary labours, we must instance his “Half-Hours with the Best Authors”--a book that has achieved a world-wide popularity; “Once upon a Time;” and “Passages of a Working Life for Half a Century” (in 3 volumes), a charming and interesting autobiography, to which we are indebted for most of the facts in this short notice of his life.

Full of years and of honours, Mr. Knight died at Addlestone, in Surrey, on the 9th of March, 1873, aged eighty-one; and five days afterwards was buried in the family vault at Windsor. The funeral was very large, from the number of literary men attending, who wished to show their feeling of affection and respect for the deceased. In the newspaper notices, too, the tribute of praise was unanimous and hearty; and it was resolved that the gratitude of writers and readers should not stop here. A committee has been formed to erect some kind of memorial, and many of the leading men of letters, as well as some of the leading publishers, are taking part in it. It has been hoped that this memorial may assume the shape of a free public library for London, and thus initiate a movement that, to our shame, has made such successful way in our great provincial towns. Nothing else could so appropriately perpetuate the memory of a life so earnest in its purpose of spreading cheap literature far and wide, so brave in difficulty, so utterly unmindful of self-gain in the work planned out and done; that none who know its story can gainsay Douglas Jerrold’s most happy epitaph, “Good Knight.”

* * * * *

JOHN CASSELL, though of a family originally Kentish, was born at Manchester on 23rd January, 1817. The child of poor parents, his school education was very simple and elementary, and at an early age he adopted the trade of carpentry. In most lads of that class, education, such as it is, is totally ended when once they leave the school-house to follow some manual calling; but from the day that Cassell took his first serious step in life he determined to educate himself, to break down the trammels of class ignorance, first of all in his own case, and, that once accomplished, to assist with all the energy he possessed, his brother workmen to do the same. At first he found his evening studies, after a hard day’s work at the bench, somewhat irksome and painful; but by degrees his reading became less and less elementary, and eventually he acquired, not only a considerable knowledge of English literature, but a fund of general information which, on the platform, as well as in private life, stood him in good stead; and he also attained sufficient proficiency in French to be afterwards essentially serviceable in his repeated visits to the Continent.

But, after all, his most valuable knowledge was acquired in the carpenter’s shop, and among his fellow-workmen; for here he gained an insight into the inner life--the struggles, privations, and miseries, as well as the hopes and ambitions--of the working classes; and this knowledge was carefully stored up until he should, at a future time, see some way of firing their minds and ameliorating their condition.

In 1833 the total abstinence movement was commenced in Lancashire, under the active leadership of Mr. Joseph Livesey, of Preston, and known as “The Temperance Movement,” went through the length and breadth of the land. About two years later, Livesey first met young Cassell in a lecture-room or chapel in Manchester. “I remember quite well,” he writes, “his standing on the right, just below or on the steps of the platform, in his working attire, with a fustian jacket and a white apron on”--a young man of eighteen, in the honestest and best of uniforms--his industrial regimentals.

Into the temperance movement John Cassell threw himself heart and soul; and thinking that London would afford a wider field for temperance missionary labours, and that his daily bread, as an artizan, might there be more easily earned, he left Manchester and arrived in the Metropolis in October, 1836, and in a few days he found his way to the New Jerusalem school-rooms in the Westminster Bridge Road, and made his first public speech. He is described by one who was present, as “a gaunt stripling, poorly clad, and travel-stained; plain, straightforward in speech, but broad in provincialism.” Shortly afterwards, he is again to be traced to Milton Street, Barbican. But his appearance here marked an episode in his life; for his energy, his evident thoroughness, and his frank confession that he carried all his worldly goods in his little wallet, and that the few pence in his pocket were his only fortune, at once gained him friends. A gentleman present took him to his own home, and shortly afterwards presented him to Mr. Meredith, who enrolled the young enthusiast forthwith among the paid band of temperance agents he was generously supporting at his own cost. With characteristic energy Cassell started on a temperance tour--a journey fraught with difficulty and hardship; and a few months after we find a notice of him in the _Preston Temperance Advocate_: “John Cassell, the Manchester carpenter, has been labouring with great success in the county of Norfolk. He is passing through Essex on his way to London. He carries his watchman’s rattle--an excellent accompaniment of temperance labours.” A strange life that gaunt young prophet must have led; trudging about from town to village, sounding an alarum ever as he went with his rattle, seeking by all means in his power to rivet a momentary attention, and then from barrel-head or tree-stump preaching in his broad Lancashire idiom a “New Crusade”--not against such puny foes and nations as Turk or Saracen--not of mere battles to be fought out by the exertion of so much or so little physical strength--but of hideous vices to be conquered--vices that sat like skeletons beside half the hearths in England then--and of noble mental victories to be achieved. The women heard his rude eloquence, and tears rushed to their eyes, as they prayed that their brothers and sons might hearken and be convinced. The men paused on their way to the pot-house, and heard how homes now desolate might be made happy, how the weeping wife and the starving children might be rendered contented and cheerful, how their own sodden lives might be again cleansed and brightened;--then independence rose again from the hideous thrall that bound them, and many paused for ever. Even those who knew the proper use of alcohol listened with respectful attention to one who sought so earnestly to provide a safeguard for other men weaker than themselves. And thus Cassell trudged on, meeting often with scoffs and sneers, suffering much weariness and many privations, but still hopeful, eager, and earnest. In Lincolnshire his eloquent zeal won him not only a convert but a wife, and from this time he found that temperance lecturing was but a sorry provision for a family.[20]

Supported by his friends he now determined to aid the movement in another manner--and he started a temperance publishing office and bookshop at the very house in the Strand now occupied by Mr. Tweedie, the present temperance publisher. For some time his trade went on successfully, but he endeavoured to add to his resources by the congenial management of a large tea and coffee business in Fenchurch Street, and the liabilities he thus incurred overreached his capital.

Now, however, Cassell had many influential friends, and one of these had sufficient faith in his capacity to start him afresh in life--this time on a much larger scale. In his new business in La Belle Sauvage Yard, he was associated with Messrs. Petter and Galpin, who before then were not very considerable printers in the neighbourhood--and they determined to devote themselves to the broader work of producing cheap and popular books, then commencing to be in great demand--not from policy only, though as the life of Robert Chambers shows it was a moment when the tide of fortune might be advantageously made use of by those brave enough and wise enough to see it--but also because it had by this time been discovered that before the masses could be in any signal way really raised in social condition they must be educated.

Being widely known as a man sprung from the people--as still one of themselves--the working classes had faith in Cassell, and readily purchased his books when they were not so readily tempted to try the publications of the various societies. His knowledge of their real conditions and their wants was very useful, and while his opinion in every matter was most carefully adopted, the business department remained rather in the hands of his junior partners, especially in later years.

In 1850 the _Working Man’s Friend_ appeared, the precursor of many similar works, and was followed, immediately after the Great Exhibition, by the _Illustrated Exhibitor_--a comprehensive and well-executed scheme intended to preserve a permanent reflection of the World’s Great Fair. This same idea was successfully repeated in 1862.

Among all the works published by the firm perhaps the most useful was, and indeed is, the _Popular Educator_; in this, for the weekly sum of one penny, the vast store-house of human knowledge was thrown open; the matter, carefully systematised and arranged so as to encourage self-tuition, aided many a struggler in the path of progress. This was ably followed by the _Technical Educator_. In the former of these works Lord Brougham took an immense interest, and his opinion of John Cassell was as pleasing as it was often repeated.

Of the illustrated works issued in the same cheap method many were English, or rather European, classics, such as the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” “Don Quixote,” “Foxe’s Book of Martyrs,” “Shakespeare,” “Robinson Crusoe,” “Gulliver’s Travels,” &c. Like Tegg or Lackington, Cassell must be looked upon rather as an encourager of the reading than of the writing world; but among the works claiming originality as well as cheapness, the _History of England_ is perhaps the best; the _Natural History_ is well printed, well illustrated, and, as far as regards the more legitimate department of the publisher’s trade, worthy of praise; the “letter-press,” or literary portion, has, however, been much criticised. The _Family Paper_ and the _Quiver_ attained a very wide circulation, and while the latter is still one of the most favourite distinctly religious serials of the day, the former, until it was changed into the _Magazine_, held faithfully to its promise of pure and wholesome literature.

In furtherance of his various schemes, Cassell often travelled,

## particularly to France, where he was well known, and where he was thus

enabled to effect a very considerable business in the exchange and purchase of illustrations for his various works. In 1859 he visited America, and, with the reputation that preceded him, met with a very flattering reception. On his return, with the energy that distinguished his character he started a company for the manufacture of petroleum, which was the first in England to recognise the value of the new discovery. He also published a series of articles entitled “America as it is,” in which the contest between North and South was discussed with a keenness of vision that results proved to be correct and almost prophetic.

Among the important items of his business, and according to popular repute one of the most profitable, was the issue of weekly papers, which, the outer pages being left blank for local news, were circulated under various titles throughout the United Kingdom. But the greatest venture of the firm was undoubtedly the _Family Bible_, which was commenced in 1859. The cost of production is said to have amounted to £100,000; in six years upwards of 350,000 copies were sold, and it is at present calculated that half a million have been disposed of. Of the influence of this and other kindred works in displacing the infamous prints and penny serial horrors, the _Bookseller_ says--“We recently took a survey of the shop-windows in the notorious locality known as the Seven Dials. Here in one street, were three shops, the windows of which were filled with really respectable publications. In one shop scarcely anything was displayed but _Cassell’s Family Bible_. In every one, of at least twenty-four, figured some event of sacred history. On making inquiries we found that a very large number in the very poorest neighbourhood was taking in the work every week, and expressed their delight to possess a long coveted article of furniture in the shape of a _family Bible_.”

Up to his death Cassell was true to his early resolutions of fostering the progress of temperance and education, and on these subjects he was a frequent and popular lecturer. He took also a lively interest in the business of the firm, but latterly the management was virtually in the hands of his partners. The “History of Julius Cæsar,” by the ex-emperor, was, however, entrusted to his care, and was the last publication in which he took an active interest. On the 1st of April, 1865, he died at his residence in Regent’s Park. He is described as having “a fine, massive, muscular frame, active and temperate habits of life, a cheerful disposition, a well-regulated mind, and troops of friends.” Rising from the ranks, he was by his industry able to leave his wife a shareholder in one of our largest book-manufacturing firms to the extent of, it is said, forty-two thousand pounds. The main interest of his life must, however, be considered to lie in the earnestness with which he laboured in causes he felt worthy of all labour, rather than in his career as a publisher, for the books he issued were little other than reprints of books whose popularity had been previously tested.

At the time of Cassell’s death it is said that upwards of 500 men were employed at the works; that 855,000 sheets were printed off weekly, requiring a consumption of 1310 reams of paper. Latterly Messrs. Petter and Galpin have launched out into a vastly superior style of book-publishing, and in placing the works of Gustave Doré before the English public have taken very high rank as Fine Art publishers. In other ways, too, they have shown a disposition to combine the production of valuable original works with the cheaper serials with which the name of their firm has been so long and successfully associated.

* * * * *

It is impossible to close this chapter without referring to the productions of Mr. Bohn. Our limited space and the value of his publications--all the more valuable, doubtless, from being mainly reproductions of standard works--alone prevent us from according him a separate chapter.

Mr. Henry George Bohn, born in the year 1796, was the son of a London bookseller, who came, however, of a German family. At an early age he entered into his father’s business, but throughout life, engrossed as deeply as any of his compeers in bookselling and publishing transactions, he ever found time and opportunity for literary labour, and, in all, twelve important works are due to his pen, either as author, translator, or editor. The first of his labours, the “Bibliotheca Parriana,” was published in 1827. Very soon after, starting on his own account, he acquired a high reputation as a dealer in rare and curious books, and for the spirit with which he entered into the “remainder trade;” in this latter branch even Tegg was compelled to confess that Mr. Bohn eventually surpassed him. The merest reference to his monster “Guinea Catalogue” will give an idea of the magnitude of his transactions at this period. Far, however, from being a mere trade guide, this catalogue is an invaluable literary work--the most useful, as it certainly is the largest, that has come from Mr. Bohn’s pen. It is quaintly described by Allibone as “an enormously thick _nondescripto_; Teutonic shape, best model; ... an invaluable lexicon to any literary man, and ten guineas would be a cheap price for a work calculated to save time by its convenience for reference, and money by its stores of information as to the literary and pecuniary value of countless tomes.” The _Literary Gazette_, in an appreciative and well-earned compliment, says: “Mr. Bohn has outdone all former doings in the same line, and given us a literary curiosity of remarkable character. The volume is the squattest and the fattest we ever saw. It is an alderman among books, not a very tall one; and then, alderman-like, its inside is richly stuffed with a multitude of good things. Why, there is a list of more than 23,000 articles, and the pages reach to 1948!... This catalogue has cost him an outlay of more than £2000, and it describes 300,000 volumes, a stock which could hardly be realized at much less a ‘plum.’”

In 1846, Mr. Registrar Hazlitt suggested the idea of a cheap uniform library of world-known books to David Bogue, the bookseller, who consequently commenced his European Library. In 1846-7, fifteen works were published, edited for the most part by Mr. W. Hazlitt. Mr. Bohn, however, discovered that in many of these works copyrights, of which he was the owner, were infringed, notably in Roscoe’s “Lorenzo de’ Medici” and “Leo X.” An injunction was obtained against the further issue of one of Bogue’s volumes, and in defence, if not retaliation, Mr. Bohn determined to enter the field as a publisher of a similar series. In 1846 he produced the first volume of his Standard Library, which, running on for 150 volumes, was sold at the then astoundingly small price--considering their size, their quality, and the care with which they were edited and printed--of 3_s_. 6_d_. each. In 1847, the Scientific Library was commenced, and was rapidly followed by the Antiquarian Library, the Classical, Illustrated, and Historical Libraries, the British Classics, &c. Bogue’s small venture stood a poor chance against enterprise of this gargantuan scale, and in a short time his fifteen volumes came into Mr. Bohn’s possession. Without counting the Shilling Library, or the more expensive works which were from time to time issued, Mr. Bohn continued the various libraries which are so immediately associated with his name, until the total number of 602 volumes afforded the student a collection of such books as he might otherwise have spent a lifetime and a fortune in acquiring. To few publishers, if to any, is the cheapening of the highest and rarest classes of English and foreign literature more deeply indebted than to Mr. Bohn. Strangely enough, however, Mr. Bohn was the only member of the trade who endeavoured in 1860 to exert his influence against the abolition of the paper duty.

Among the best known of Mr. Bohn’s own productions are his editions of Lowndes’ “Manual,” Addison’s works, his “Polyglot of French Proverbs,” his translation of Schiller’s “Robbers,” and his “Guide to the Knowledge of Pottery and Porcelain,” which, though published in 1849, is still the standard work on the subject. His position as an antiquarian is widely acknowledged, and he is a Vice-President of the Society of Arts.

At an early period of his life Mr. Bohn married a daughter of the senior partner in the firm of Simpkin, Marshall, and Co., an alliance that doubtless strengthened his business connections. His trade sales were for many years among the most important in London, lasting for three or four days, and were conducted after the manner of the good old school of booksellers--now, alas! almost extinct--with the pleasing accompaniments of singing and supper. Though Mr. Bohn, a few years since, transferred his “Libraries” and his premises in York Street to Messrs. Bell and Daldy, he has not yet entirely severed his connection with the bookselling world, though as the “father of the trade” he has long since earned the right to leisure and retirement--a right acknowledged not alone in England, for in June, 1869, the _New York Round Table_ devoted an interesting article to Mr. Bohn’s retirement from the publishing world, and observed that many of his articles in “Lowndes” were unsurpassed in bibliography, especially those on Shakespeare and Junius. “Indeed,” adds the writer, “if we may believe report, such has been the unceasing devotion of Mr. Bohn to work that for years he has subjected himself to a weekly examination by his surgeon to warn him of the first symptoms of the collapse that such an unintermitted strain upon his mind might be supposed to produce.”

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_HENRY COLBURN_:

THREE VOLUME NOVELS AND LIGHT LITERATURE.

Round Henry Colburn clusters a body of writers, lighter and gayer, and consequently more ephemeral than any we have yet noticed--men and women, too, for the matter of that, who purchased immediate success too often with a disregard of future reputation.

As a lad, Henry Colburn was placed in the establishment of William Earle, bookseller, of Albemarle Street, and after this preliminary training obtained the situation of assistant to a Mr. Morgan, the principal of a large circulating library in Conduit Street. Here he had, of course, ample opportunity of gauging the reading taste of the general public, and it is probably from this early connection with the library-subscribing world that he determined henceforth to devote himself almost exclusively to the production of the light novelties which he saw were so eagerly and so incessantly demanded. In 1816 he succeeded to the proprietorship of the library, and conducted the business with great spirit and success until, removing to New Burlington Street, he resigned the Conduit Street Library to the hands of Messrs. Saunders and Ottley, who, until their recent dissolution, were famous, not only for their circulating library, but for the tender care they bestowed upon the works of suckling poets and poetasters.

Before this change of residence, however, Colburn had already made several serious ventures on his own account. All through his long career we shall find that he speculated in journalistic venture with as much spirit as he showed in any of his daring schemes to win popular credit and applause. In 1814, with the assistance of Mr. Frederick Shoberl, he originated the _New Monthly Magazine and Universal Register_, on “the principles of general patriotism and loyalty,” founded, as its name implied, in direct opposition to Sir Richard Philips’ _Old Monthly_. Among the early editors were Dr. Watkins and Alaric Watts, but in 1820 a new series was commenced under the title of the _New Monthly Magazine and Literary Journal_, and Thomas Campbell, the poet, was appointed editor. The agreement still exists in Beattie’s “Life of Campbell,” and was unusually liberal. He agreed to edit the periodical for three years, to supply in all twelve articles, six in verse, six in prose; and for these and his editorial services he received five hundred pounds per annum, to be increased if the circulation of the magazine materially improved. He was, of course, assisted by a sub-editor, and allowed a liberal sum for the payment of contributors. The magazine prospered, and passed successively through the editorial hands of Bulwer Lytton (1832) and Theodore Hook. In 1836 a third series appeared under Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, and though Colburn parted with the proprietorship to Messrs. Chapman and Hall, and they in their turn to Messrs. Adams and Francis, Mr. Harrison Ainsworth was till yesterday at his editorial post, delighting our children with precisely the same kind of enthralling romances with which he beguiled our fathers.

In 1817 Colburn determined to introduce a paper upon the plan of a popular German prototype, and on the 26th January the first number of the _Literary Gazette_ appeared, price one shilling. H. E. Lloyd, a clerk in the Foreign Department of the Post-Office, a good linguist, and a well-known translator from the German, was the chief contributor, and appears to have shared the editorial duties with Miss Ross, a lady afterwards pensioned by the Government. The reputation achieved was great, especially in reference to the Fine Arts, which were skilfully handled by William Carey, and at the twenty-sixth number Mr. Jerdan, formerly editor of the _Sun_, purchased a third of the property, and became the regular editor. Messrs. Longman eagerly embraced the offer of a third share, and with a staff of contributors, who varied from Canning to Maginn, the _Literary Gazette_ obtained a wide popularity, and was recognized as an authority upon other matters than literature. At present, however, the _Gazette_ is most gratefully remembered as having encouraged in its poetical columns (fairly and impartially opened to merit, however obscure), the earliest writings of Mrs. Hemans, Bowles, Hood, Swain, James Smith, Howitt, and even Tupper. In 1842 Jerdan bought out Colburn and the Messrs. Longman, and from his hands the editorship passed to L. Phillips, L. Beeve, and J. L. Jephson. In 1858 a new series was commenced, under, successively, S. Brooks, H. Christmas, W. R. Workman, F. Arnold, John Morley, and C. W. Goodwin. In 1862 it was finally incorporated with the _Parthenon_.

In 1816, the year before the foundation of the _Literary Gazette_, Colburn had, as we have seen, migrated to New Burlington Street, and soon rendered his shop famous as the chief emporium for the purchase and sale of novels and other light literature. The first book issued from the new establishment was Lady Morgan’s “Zana”--a work certainly not worth much, but scarcely meriting an attack in the _Quarterly_, which Talfourd stigmatises as “one of the coarsest insults ever offered in print by man to woman;” however, through the power of her ladyship’s name, and with the aid of skilful advertising--in which Colburn was perhaps the greatest expert in a time when the art had not reached its present high state of development--“Zana” proved eminently successful. Talented in a manner Lady Morgan certainly was, and, as a proof, is said to have made more than twenty-five thousand pounds by her pen. She had published a volume of verses at the unfortunately early age of fourteen, and this idea of precocity seems to us to accompany all her works.

At the suggestion of his friend Mr. Upcott, Colburn undertook, in 1818, the publication of “Evelyn’s Diary,” and its success would have been almost unparalleled had it not been followed in 1825 by the “Diary of Pepys.” For more than 150 years this work reposed unread and unknown, until Mr. John Smith succeeded in deciphering the stenographic characters which had concealed so much amusement from the world. The work, edited by Lord Braybrooke, was published in two volumes at six guineas, and though this and the two succeeding editions, at five guineas, were almost worthless from the editorial excisions they had undergone from the too-modest fingers of the noble editor, the issues went off very rapidly, and Colburn obtained a very handsome profit on the £2200 he had paid for the copyright. In the fourth edition of 1848 Lord Braybrooke was urged to restore those characteristic passages which he had before condemned, and the full value of the work, as a photographic picture of an amusing, though dissolute, time was firmly established. Evelyn had before given us the history of Charles the Second’s Court, with a gravity and openly-expressed reprobation which finely suited his character of a worthy and dignified old English country gentleman; but still it is now to the pages of Pepys that all the world turns for an account of the royal domestic life of certainly the most infamous period of our annals. He is so charmingly garrulous, jotting down each night such quaint thoughts on what he had seen during the day, writing them by his fireside, with the same nonchalance with which he put on his night-cap, and with as little suspicion of ever being surprised in the one act as the other, that his truthfulness, his openness, and his scarcely-concealed partiality for as much vagabonding and frolicsome society as Mrs. Pepys would permit, carry the reader irresistibly along with him.

It is, however, when we come to the novels that Colburn ushered into the world, that we strike upon the one vein of profitable ore that he made so peculiarly his own; and _facile princeps_ of all his novelistic clients, stands Theodore Hook. To understand the genius of all Hook’s works, it is essential to take a short retrospective view of his life and character. Two things, above all else, strike us in regarding him--that he possessed the greatest love of joke and frolic, and the most marvellous memory with which ever man was gifted. As a boy of seventeen, he dashed off an amusing comedy; this, he tells us in the really autobiographical sketch of “Gilbert Gurney,” was the process. “To work I went, bought three or four French vaudevilles, and filching an incident from each, made up my very effective drama, the ‘Soldier’s Return.’” And for this bantling he received the handsome first-earnings of fifty pounds. Living, at a time when other boys were at school, in the gayest of all society in London, a welcome guest behind the curtain at every theatre, and hailed as a good fellow in every literary coterie, young Hook led a rollicking, devil-may-care life, giving the world back with interest the rich amusement he gathered from it. Now, making a random bet that a corner house in Berners Street should, within a week, be the most famous house in London; and within the time taking his opponent to a commanding window, that he might acknowledge that the wager had been fairly won; and the strange scene in the thoroughfare must have soon convinced him. The Duke of York, drawn by six grey horses, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord Mayor in formal state, every woman of notorious virtue, every man of any fame or notoriety, porters bustling up with wine-casks and beer-barrels, milliners with bonnet-boxes crushed and battered, pastry-cooks with dainty dishes that the street gamins soon picked out of the gutters, undertakers with rival coffins, variously made to exact measurement, hackney-coaches, and vans, and waggons by the hundred--in fact, half the world of London was there by invitations especially adapted to move each individual case, and the other half soon came as spectators. The impotent “Charleys” of the day found their efforts useless to dispel the block and crush, and long before the crowd was cleared away, the next day’s papers were ringing with the “Berners Street Hoax.” Again, we find him donning a scarlet coat, and, as the Prince Regent’s messenger, delivering a letter to an obnoxious actor, eagerly inviting him to dine with that august personage; and then joining in the crush outside Holland House, to see his enemy come away discomfited as an impostor. No occasion was sacred from his jests, and his exuberant spirits were scarcely in accordance with the tranquillity of academic life. At his very matriculation the Vice-chancellor, struck by his youthful appearance, asked him if he was fully prepared to sign the thirty-nine articles. “Oh, certainly, sir,” replied Hook with cool assiduity, “forty, if you please.” Indignantly he was told to withdraw, and it took weeks of friendly interposition to appease the outraged dignitary. At the age of twenty he wrote his first novel, but it was a failure, and he shortly afterwards received the appointment of accountant-general and treasurer at the Mauritius. Here he stayed for some years, leading a life of pleasure, and going to the office only five times in the whole period, when suddenly a commission was appointed to inquire into the accounts, and he was dragged off from a supper, given in his honour, to prison, charged with a theft of £20,000, and sent under arrest to England. This “complaint of the chest,” as he observed to a friend who was astonished to see him back so soon, was afterwards reduced to £12,000, and for this he was judged to be accountable, and put into the debtors’ prison. Here, from his diary, he seems to have enjoyed himself as much as ever, drinking as a loyal subject should, to the “health of my august detainer, the king.” However, political influence was brought to bear upon the Government, and he was set at liberty with the burden of the debt hanging very lightly round his neck.

In 1820 he founded the _John Bull_ newspaper, strongly in favour of the king’s interests, scurrilous as it was witty; everybody read it, and for some years it yielded him £2000 per annum. His life we see had been sufficiently various, and not an incident of it was ever forgotten, for his memory was probably unrivalled. He made a bet that he would repeat in order the names of all the shops on one side of Oxford Street, and he only misplaced one; and he gained another wager by saying from memory a whole column of _Times_ advertisement, which he had only once conned over; and on another occasion he utterly discomfited a universal critic, by engaging him in a conversation anent lunar eclipses, and then discharging three columns of the “Encyclopædia Britannica” at him, without pause or hesitation. He had, too, the gift of improvising verse in our stubborn English tongue, and was known on one occasion to introduce the names of fifty guests at a supper-table, in a song of fifty verses--each verse a rhymed epigram.

With attainments and experiences like these, Colburn may be considered as a wise rather than a venturous man when he offered Hook £600 to write a novel. The idea of the “Sayings and Doings” was struck out at a _John Bull_ gathering, and the book when published in 1824, was so successful that 6000 copies of the three volumes were soon disposed of,[21] and the generous publisher made the author a present of £350. For the _second series_ (published in 1825), and the _third series_ (published in 1828), he received a thousand guineas each. In 1830 appeared “Maxwell,” perhaps the best of his novels, and this was followed by the “Parson’s Daughter” (1833), “Jack Brag” (1837), and numerous others, for all of which he was very handsomely paid. But though he was earning at this period, upwards of £3000 a year by his pen, he was spending more than £6000, and was obliged, not only to make fresh engagements with his publishers, but to fore-draw to a very large extent, and to change his plans considerably with each instalment of indebtedness. Colburn and Bentley seem to have treated him with marked esteem and consideration, and his letters perpetually show this: “I have been so liberally treated by your house, that it seems almost presuming upon kindnesses” (1831). Again, in 1837: “I assure you I would not press the matter in a quarter where I am proud and happy to say--as I do to everybody--I have met with the greatest liberality.”

In 1834 he took the management of the _New Monthly_, and to its pages he contributed what may be considered an autobiographical sketch. “Gilbert Gurney” and the sequel “Gilbert Married,” the second of which unfortunately was not autobiographical; for he had formed ties with a woman who had not only sacrificed everything to him, but during the period of his imprisonment and his many troubles had behaved with exemplary faithfulness and unremitting attention; and these ties he had not the courage to legally strengthen. At his death the crown seized what little property he possessed, in the shape of household chattels and newspaper shares, to liquidate his unfortunate debt, and his children were left penniless. A subscription was raised--if literary men are improvident (though many have more excuses for improvidence than Theodore Hook), they are at least kindly-hearted--and a sum of £3000 was collected, to which the King of Hanover contributed £500. As a strange test of Hook’s joviality it is stated that the receipts of the dining-room of the Athenæum Club fell off by £300 when his well-known seat in “Temperance Corner” became vacant.

Another of the novelists with whom Colburn had long and intimate dealings was G. P. R. James, one of the most indefatigable writers that ever drove pen over paper. We give for the sake of clearness, a tabular statement of his extraordinary labours:--

51 Novels in 3 Volumes 153 Volumes. 2 ” 4 ” 8 ” 6 ” 2 ” 12 ” 16 ” 1 ” 16 ” Edited Works 14 ” Miscellaneous Contributions would fill say 10 ” --- 223 Volumes.

Truly a gargantuan labour! Some of James’s early writings had attracted the attention of Washington Irving, who strongly advised the undertaking of some more important work, and as a consequence “Richelieu” was commenced. After it had received Scott’s approval it was submitted to Colburn, and published in 1828 with a success that determined the young author’s future career. We cannot, of course, follow the progress of the 223 volumes as they issued from the press. It would be absurd to look for originality in a book-manufacturer of this calibre, and, as Whipple says, James “was a maker of books without being a maker of thought.” Still they served their purpose of enriching the author and publishers, and at a time when the public appetite was less jaded than at present, his works were eagerly looked for, and even now many readers agree with Leigh Hunt:--“I hail every fresh publication of James, though I hardly know what he is going to do with his lady, and his gentleman, and his landscape, and his scenery, and his mystery, and his orthodoxy, and his criminal trial.”

In 1826 Colburn published Banim’s “Tales of the O’Hara Family,” a book that excited a very strong interest in the public mind, and in the same year he issued “Vivian Grey,” by a young author whose life was to be as romantic as his story. Mr. Disraeli’s first book contains a curious confession of his youthful aspirations, and even a curiously exact prototype of his future life. This was followed in 1831 by the “Young Duke.” “Bless me!” the elder Disraeli exclaimed when he read this eloquent account of aristocratic circles, “why the boy has never sat in the same room as a duke in his life.” Mr. Disraeli’s novels soon became famous for the portraits or caricatures of distinguished living people, scarcely disguised under the slightest of all possible pseudonyms; to those living in the metropolis the likenesses were evident enough, and a regular key was published to each for the benefit of our country cousins.

In 1829 Colburn published “Frank Mildmay,” a novel full of false morality and falser style, but delineating sea life with such a flavour of fun and frolic, adventures and brine, that Marryat was at once hailed as a true successor to Smollett. This was followed by a rapid succession of sea stories, among the best of which undoubtedly are “Peter Simple” and “Midshipman Easy.” The perusal of these works has probably done more to turn youthful aspiration and energies to the choice of a profession than any series of formal injunctions ever penned. Old King William, the Sailor-King, was so entranced with “Peter Simple” that he begged to be introduced to the author, and promised to bestow some honourable distinction upon him for his services; but afterwards recollecting suddenly that he “had written a book against the impressment of seamen,” he refused to fulfil his pledge. When, later on, Colburn published Marryat’s “Diary in America,” the Yankees felt terribly outraged, and the severe criticism that followed speedily emptied his shelves of a large edition.

This was emphatically the period of fashionable novels, and the great outside world was perpetually calling out for more and more romantic accounts of that attractive region to which middle-class thought could only aspire in reverent fancy. And though these novels seemed written primarily to illustrate the moral lesson of Touchstone to the Shepherd--“Shepherd, wert thou ever at court?” “No.” “Then thou art damned”--the public received the oracle, not only with humility, but thankfulness. For a time Mr. Bulwer Lytton was a disciple of this fashionable school, but even “Pelham” has an interest greater than any other specimen of its class, for though, in some degree, an illustration of the maxim that “manners make the man,” the threads of a darker and more tragic interest are interwoven with the tale. As an artistic worker, as a true delineator of our subtler and deeper passions, Lord Lytton was far above any other of Colburn’s writers--above, indeed, any other writer of the day; while his sophistry, immense as it undoubtedly is, only lends a more forcible and enthralling interest to his plots. None of Colburn’s novelists--and their name was legion--brought in more grist to the publishing mill than Lord Lytton; and, when the meal had been baked several times, Messrs. Routledge paid the author £20,000 for all future use of these works--as popular now perhaps in their cheap editions as they have ever been before.

To return for a moment more immediately to Colburn’s life, we find him still speculating in periodical literature, and with the same success as ever. In 1828 he commenced the _Court Journal_, and in the following year started the _United Service Magazine_, while for many years he possessed a considerable interest in the _Sunday Times_ newspaper; and all these periodicals are still held in popular esteem.

The printing expenses of his enormous business had been very considerable, and in 1830 he resolved to take his principal printer, Mr. Richard Bentley, into partnership; but the alliance did not last long, and in August, 1832, the connection was dissolved, and Colburn relinquished the business in New Burlington Street to Mr. Bentley, giving him a guarantee in bond that he would not recommence publishing again within twenty miles of London.

However, his heart was so intuitively set upon the profitable risks of a publisher’s career, that he could not quietly retire in the prime of life, and, accordingly, he started a house at Windsor, so as to be within the letter of the law, but the garrison town was sadly quiet after the literary circles of London, and to London he again returned, paying the forfeiture in full. This time he opened a house in Great Marlborough Street, as his old establishment in New Burlington Street was, of course, in possession of Mr. Bentley, whose business had already assumed formidable proportions. At Great Marlborough Street, Colburn succeeded in rallying round him all his old authors, and, perhaps, the greatest triumphs that date from thence, are Miss Strickland’s “Lives of the Kings and Queens of England and Scotland,” for the copyright of the first of which he paid £2000. Burke’s “Peerage,” “Baronetage,” and “Landed Gentry” were also among his most profitable possessions.

Throughout the whole of his business life, Colburn had a very keen perception as to what the public required, and of the market value of the productions offered him; and yet he was almost uniformly liberal in his dealings. His judgment of copyrights was occasionally assisted by Mr. Forbes and Mr. Charles Ollier.

Of course, among the multitude of books he produced, many were utterly worthless, beyond affording a passing recreation to the library subscribers, and many even were pecuniary failures. The most ludicrous of these failures was a scheme originated by John Galt, a constant contributor to the _New Monthly_. This was a periodical, which, under the title of the _New British Theatre_, published the best of those dramatic productions, which the managers of the great playhouses had previously rejected. The audacity of the scheme carried it through for a short time, but soon the unfortunate editor was smothered amid such a heap of dramatic rubbish, coming at every fresh post, to the table of the benevolent encourager of youthful aspirations, that he was fain to acknowledge the justice of the managers’ previous decisions.

Although Colburn was throughout his career chiefly successful as a caterer for the libraries, supplying them with novels, which, by some mysterious law, were required to consist of three volumes of about three hundred pages each, the cost of the whole fixed immutably at one guinea and a half, his “Modern Novelists,” containing his best copyright works, in a cheap octavo form, attained the number of nineteen, being published at intervals between 1835 and 1841, and formed a valuable addition to the popular literature of the time.

Finally, Colburn, having acquired an ample competence, retired from business, in favour of Messrs. Hurst and Blackett, still, however, retaining his name to some favourite copyrights. He had been twice married, the second time, in 1841, to the daughter of Captain Crosbie, R.N.

After a period of well-earned leisure, rendered pleasingly genial by the constant society of his literary friends, Henry Colburn died, on the 16th of August, 1855, at his house in Bryanston Square.

The whole of his property was sworn to be under £35,000, and went to his wife and her family. Two years later, the seven copyrights he had reserved were sold by auction, and realised the large sum of £14,000, to which Miss Strickland’s “Lives of the Queens of England” alone contributed £6900.

As publisher of three volume novels, Colburn was succeeded by two principal rival houses, with the foundation of each of which he was in some way concerned. As Mr. Bentley’s establishment in New Burlington Street was only a further development of Colburn’s old house, a few words may not be out of place concerning it. In 1837, Mr. Bentley proposed to start a periodical to rival the _New Monthly_, and at the preliminary meeting it was proposed to call it the _Wit’s Miscellany_, but James Smith objected to this as being too pretentious, upon which Mr. Bentley proposed the title of _Bentley’s Miscellany_. “Don’t you think,” interposed Smith, “that that would be going too far the other way?” However, the name was adopted (Mr. Bentley denies the accuracy of this anecdote--but _se non è vero, è ben trovato_). One of the chief contributors to the new _Miscellany_ was Barham, who had been a school chum of Mr. Bentley’s at St. Paul’s, and, until 1843, the “Ingoldsby Legends” delighted the public in the pages of the _Miscellany_. The last poem of the “Legends” was published in Colburn’s _New Monthly_, but by Barham’s express wish, the song he wrote on his death-bed, “As I Lay Athynkynge,” appeared, as fitly closing his career, in _Bentley_. The first editor of _Bentley’s Miscellany_, was no less a man than Charles Dickens, who had previously contributed the “Sketches by Boz” to the _Morning Chronicle_, and who soon, as the author of _Pickwick_, became the most popular writer of the day. Mr. Bentley was one of the first publishers to secure Dickens’s services, and in his magazine “Oliver Twist” appeared. The editorship afterwards passed into the hands of Mr. Harrison Ainsworth and Mr. A. Smith. For the magazine, as for his ordinary business, Mr. Bentley secured the aid of most of the writers who had graduated first under Colburn; and to enumerate them would, with the exception of “Father Prout,” be merely a repetition of names already mentioned, and those who have won popularity since then have scarcely yet had time to lose it. An amusing story, however, worth repeating, has been recently told by the _Athenæum_, anent “Eustace Conway,” a novel by the late Mr. Maurice. “We believe,” says that journal, “we are not going too far in telling the following story about it. Mr. Maurice sold the novel to the late Mr. Bentley somewhere about the year 1830; but the excitement caused by the Reform Bill being unfavourable to light literature, Mr. Bentley did not issue it till 1834, when he had quite lost sight of its author, then a curate in Warwickshire. The villain of the novel was called Captain Marryat; and Mr. Maurice, who first learned of the publication of his book from a review in our columns, had soon the pleasure of receiving a challenge from the celebrated Captain Marryat. Great was the latter’s astonishment on learning that the anonymous author of ‘Eustace Conway’ had never heard of the biographer of ‘Peter Simple,’ and, being in Holy Orders, was obliged to decline to indulge in a duel.” Mr. Bentley died in September, 1871, and was succeeded in the business by his son, who for many years had been associated with him.

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_THE RIVINGTONS, THE PARKERS, AND JAMES NISBET_:

RELIGIOUS LITERATURE.

Not only is the Rivington family the oldest still existing in bookselling annals, but even in itself it succeeded, a century and a half ago, to a business already remarkable for antiquity. In 1711, on the death of Richard Chiswell, styled by Dunton “the Metropolitan of booksellers,” his premises and his trade passed into the hands of Charles Rivington, and the sign of the “Bible and the Crown” was then first erected over the doorway of the house in Paternoster Row; and from that time to this the “Bible and the Crown” might have been fairly stamped upon the cover of nearly every book issued from the establishment, as a seal and token of its contents.

Charles Rivington was born at Chesterfield, in Derbyshire, towards the close of the seventeenth century, and from a very early age he evinced such a taste for religious books that his friends determined to send him to London, that he might become a theological bookseller. Having served his apprenticeship with a Mr. Matthews, he was, in 1711, made free of the city, preparatory to entering into business on his own account, and, bearing the date of that year, billheads are still existing to which his name is affixed. In 1718 we find him, in conjunction with other firms, issuing proposals to print by subscription Mason’s “Vindication of the Church of England, and the Ministry thereof,” a principle that the family has steadily adhered to ever since; for though Rivington published one of Whitfield’s very earliest works, “The Nature and Necessity of a New Birth in Christ,” preached at Bristol in September, 1737, the author was then a young Oxford student, who had been but just ordained; and Wesley, too, the other great religious mover of the day, was still a fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford, when Rivington brought out his edition of Thomas à Kempis’ “Imitation of Christ,” a book that has, after the Bible, gone through more editions than any other.

About 1719, an association of some half-a-dozen respectable booksellers entered into partnership for the purpose of printing expensive books, and styled themselves the printing _Conger_,[22] and, in 1736, another similar company was started by Rivington and Bettesworth, who termed themselves the “New Conger.”

Much of Rivington’s business consisted in the publication of sermons, which, as a simple commission trade, was profitable without risk. An amusing story is told, which proves that the ponderous nature of his trade stock did not prevent Charles Rivington from being a man of kindly humour. A poor vicar, in a remote country diocese, had preached a sermon so acceptable to his parishioners, that they begged him to have it printed, and, full of the honour conferred and the greater honours about to come, the clergyman at once started for London, was recommended to Rivington, to whom he triumphantly related the object of his journey. Rivington agreed to his proposals, and asked how many copies he would like struck off. “Why, sir,” replied the clergyman, “I have calculated that there are in the kingdom ten thousand parishes, and that each parish will, at least, take one and others more, so that I think we may venture to print thirty-five or thirty-six thousand copies.”

Rivington remonstrated, the author insisted, and the matter was settled. With great self-denial, the clergyman waited at home for nearly two months in silence, but at length the hope of fame and riches so tormented him that he could hold out no longer, and he wrote to Rivington desiring him to send in the debtor and creditor account at once, but adding liberally that the remittance might be forwarded at his own convenience. What, then, was his astonishment, anguish, and tribulation, when the following account was received:--

The Revd. Dr. * * *

To C. Rivington, Dr.

£ _s._ _d._ To Printing and Paper, 35,000 Copies of Sermons 785 5 6 By sale of 17 Copies of said Sermon 1 5 6 -------------- Balance due to C. Rivington £784 0 0 --------------

In a day or two he received a letter from Rivington to the following purport:--

“REV. SIR,--I beg pardon for innocently amusing myself at your expense, but you need not give yourself any uneasiness. I knew better than you could do the extent of the sale of single sermons, and accordingly printed one hundred copies, to the expense of which you are heartily welcome.”[23]

In 1736 Rivington became an active member of a society for promoting the encouragement of learning, but as he and his colleagues sustained much injury through it, this was in the following year abandoned.

In 1737 we find him venturing in a very different path. “Two booksellers,” writes Richardson, “my particular friends (Rivington and Osborne), entreated me to write for them a little volume of letters, in a common style, on such subjects as might be of use to those country readers who were unable to indite for themselves. ‘Would it be any harm,’ said I, ‘in a piece you want to be written so low, if one should instruct them how they should think and act in common cases, as well as indite?’ They were the more urgent for me to begin the little volume for the hint. I set about it, and in the progress of writing two or three letters to instruct handsome girls who were obliged to go out to service, as we phrase it, how to avoid the snares that might be laid against their virtue, the above story occurred to me, and hence sprang ‘Pamela.’” The first two volumes of the story were written in three months, and never was a book of this kind more generally or more quickly admired. Pope asserted that it would do more good than twenty sermons, mindful, perhaps, of its publisher; Slocock and many other eminent divines recommended it from the pulpit; a critic declared that if all books were burnt, the Bible and ‘Pamela’ ought to be preserved; and even at fashionable Ranelagh, where the former was in but little request, “it was usual for the ladies to hold up the volume (the latter) to one another, to show that they had got the book that every one was talking of.” What, however, was more to Rivington’s purpose, the volume went through five editions in the year of publication, 1741.

This success closed Charles Rivington’s business life, for he died on the 25th of February, 1742.

By Ellen Pease, his wife, a native of Durham, he had six children, to whom his friend Samuel Richardson, the executor also of his will, acted as guardian.

Charles, the founder, was succeeded by John and James, who carried on the publishing business conjointly for several years, after which James joined a Mr. Fletcher, in St. Paul’s Churchyard, with whom he brought out Smollett’s “History of England,” by which £10,000 was cleared--the largest profit that had yet been made on any single book. This success, however, encouraged James to neglect his affairs, and he took to frequenting Newmarket; racing and gambling soon ended in a failure, and in 1760 he thought it advisable to start for the New World. Here, in Philadelphia, he commenced his celebrated _Gazette_, and, as he advocated the British interests and took the loyal side, his premises were destroyed by the rebels, and his type cast into republican bullets. James Rivington then came back to London, where he obtained the appointment of “King’s printer to America,” and furnished afresh with types and presses he returned to recommence his _Royal Gazette_, which he carried on boldly up to the withdrawal of the British troops; and as he had contrived somehow, it is said by forwarding early intelligence, to propitiate the enemy, he was allowed to continue his paper, which soon died for want of subscribers; but until 1802 he lived in New York, leaving many descendants there. Even in those early and unsophisticated days, Yankee gentlemen had contracted the habit of “cowhiding” obnoxious or impertinent editors, and the wit of the _Royal Gazette_ was in its time sufficiently stinging and personal to involve its proprietor in many of these little difficulties. James Rivington relates rather an amusing story of an interview with Ethan Allen, one of the republican heroes, who came for the express purpose of administering chastisement. He says:--

“I was sitting down, after a good dinner, with a bottle of Madeira before me, when I heard an unusual noise in the street, and a huzza from the boys. I was on the second story, and, stepping to the window, saw a tall figure in tarnished regimentals, with a large cocked hat and an enormously long sword, followed by a crowd of boys, who occasionally cheered him with huzzas, of which he seemed quite unaware. He came up to my door and stopped. I could see no more--my heart told me it was Ethan Allen. I shut my window, and retired behind my table and my bottle. I was certain the hour of reckoning had come--there was no retreat. Mr. Staples, my clerk, came in, paler than ever, clasping his hands--‘Master, he has come!’ ‘I know it.’ I made up my mind, looked at the Madeira, possibly took a glass. ‘Show him up, and if such Madeira cannot mollify him, he must be harder than adamant.’ There was a fearful moment of suspense; I heard him on the stairs, his long sword clanking at every step. In he stalked. ‘Is your name James Rivington?’ ‘It is, sir, and no man can be more delighted to see Colonel Ethan Allen.’ ‘Sir, I have come----’ ‘Not another word, my dear Colonel, until you have taken a seat and a glass of old Madeira.’ ‘But, sir, I don’t think it proper--’ ‘Not another word, Colonel, but taste this wine; I have had it in glass ten years.’ He took the glass, swallowed the wine, smacked his lips, and shook his head approvingly. ‘Sir, I come----’ ‘Not another word until you have taken another glass, and then, my dear Colonel, we will talk of old officers, and I have some queer events to detail.’ In short, we finished three bottles of Madeira, and parted as good friends as if we never had cause to be otherwise.”

In England, to return there, John Rivington was still successfully fostering his father’s business. A quiet and sedate man, with nothing of James’ rashness and venture about him, he is described by West as being stout and well formed, particularly neat in his person, of dignified and gentlemanly address, going with gold-headed cane and nosegay twice a day to service at St. Paul’s--as befitted the great religious publisher of the day, and living generally upon the most friendly terms with the members of the Episcopal Bench, and breakfasting every alternate Monday with Bishop Seeker at Lambeth. A kind master, too, for coming back on the 30th of January, from service, and finding his sons and clerks plodding at the desk--“Tous, sous, how is this?--I always put my shutters up on this day.”

In May, 1743, he married a sister of Sir Francis Gosling, Alderman, afterwards Lord Mayor, and as she brought him a fortune and fifteen children, the match may probably be considered a prosperous one.

Orthodox in his views, and true in business to the professions he held out privately, Wesley and Whitfield had to go elsewhere for a publisher, although there must have been plenty of temptation to incline the trade to patronise Methodism, for Coote, in a comedy of his, published in 1757, makes a bookseller say:--“I don’t deal in the sermon way now; I lost money by the last I printed, for all ’twas by a Methodist.” But John Rivington would have none of them, and in 1752 we find him publishing “The Mischiefs of Enthusiasm and Bigotry: an Assize Sermon by the Rev. R. Hurd;” and about 1760 he was appointed publisher to the venerable “Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge”--an office that remained in the family for upwards of seventy years. Dissent in itself was injurious enough to his interests, but when Wilberforce and Hannah More succeeded in making a portion of the Church “Evangelical,” upwards of half his customers deserted to a rival shop in Piccadilly.

Some time before this he had admitted his sons, Francis and Charles, into partnership, and he was then appointed manager in general of the works published by his _clique_;--that is, of standard editions of Shakespeare, Milton, Locke, and other British classics, and of such religious works as were produced in an expensive and bulky form; and of these works, two especially, Dr. Dodd’s “Commentary,” and Cruden’s “Concordance” stand out so prominently that some slight account of their authors may not be unacceptable.

William Dodd was a man of great learning, and a very popular preacher in the metropolis, and in 1776, when he was appointed chaplain to the King, took his degree of LL.D. Ambitious and fond of display he found himself in debt, and determined to make a bold effort to secure the Rectory of St. George’s, Hanover Square. To her great surprise the wife of Lord Chancellor Apsley received an anonymous letter offering her £3000 if she would procure Dr. Dodd’s presentation to the parish. This insulting proposal was traced to Dodd, and the King ordered that he should be deprived of his chaplaincy. This disgrace, of course, involved him still further, and to extricate himself from these difficulties he was tempted to forge the name of his pupil, Lord Chesterfield, to a bond for £4200. On the discovery of the forgery, Mr. Manley, a solicitor, called upon the doctor with the bill, leaving it on the table in a room where a fire was burning, when he went out for the obvious purpose of refreshment. Dr. Dodd appears to have been too honest to destroy the fatal document, and he was afterwards tried and condemned for forgery, and, spite of all the strenuous efforts of his friends, was executed on 27th of June, 1777.

Alexander Cruden, one of the most useful men who have ever followed the painstaking and praiseworthy profession of index-making, was born in Aberdeen in 1701. An unfortunate passion, which was treated by its unworthy object with great contumely, weakened his senses, and on the discovery that the girl he worshipped was pregnant by her own brother, he went for a short time entirely out of his mind. On his recovery, he was sent to London in the hopes that the difficulty of obtaining position and livelihood might act tonically. At one of the first houses at which he called, the door was opened by the wretched girl herself, and poor Cruden rushed off wildly and vacantly into the streets. For many years he was a bookseller, doubly entitled, therefore, to a notice here, and upon the counter of his shop, under the Royal Exchange, his famous and laborious “Concordance” was compiled. Queen Caroline, to whom it was dedicated, unluckily died before publication, and the downfall of the expectations he had formed from her patronage was too much for the author, and his friends were compelled to place him in a lunatic asylum. Having made his escape, he brought an action against his relatives for false imprisonment--offering his sister the choice of Newgate, Reading and Aylesbury jails, and the prison at Windsor Castle. He was never insane in the eyes of his employers, and as a corrector of the press, especially in the finer editions of the classics, his services were invaluable. Henceforth he adopted the name of “Alexander the Corrector,” as expressive of his character of censor general to the public morals. Armed with a large sponge, his favourite and incessant weapon, he perambulated the town, wiping out all obnoxious signs, more especially “Number 45,” then rendered famous by Wilkes. Giving out, too, that he had a commission from above to preach a general reformation of manners, he made the attempt first among the gownsmen at Oxford, and then among the prisoners at Newgate; but in neither case did he meet with much encouragement. He asked for knighthood from the King, and a vacant ward from his fellow-citizens; and on refusal said that he possessed the hearts if not the hands of his friends. He was found dead on his knees, apparently in a posture of prayer, at his lodgings in Islington on November 1st, 1770.

Samuel Richardson appears to have entertained grateful remembrance of the commission to write the “Familiar Letters to and from several Persons upon Business and other Subjects,” for on his death he left a mourning ring to James Rivington.

During Dodsley’s illness, Rivington and his sons managed the _Annual Register_, and when on his death it was sold to Orridge and others, they started an annual of their own, which lasted till 1812, and then till 1820 was in abeyance, resumed again till 1823, and in the following year the two were merged into one, and after being published for a few years by the Baldwins, its management returned again to their own hands. Through the _Register_ they were brought into connection with Burke, and were subsequently publishers of his more important works.

At all times the Rivingtons took a very great interest in the Stationers’ Company; this was especially the case with James, who served as master, and at the same time he, his two brothers, and his four sons were all members of the livery. He held many public appointments, was in commission of the peace, a governor of most of the Royal hospitals, and a director of the “Amicable Society,” and of the Union Fire Office.

He died, universally regretted, on the 16th of February, 1792, in his seventy-second year, and was followed by his widow in the succeeding October.

Owing to the split we have referred to in his business, and to his uniform generosity, the fortune he left behind him was not large--indeed, money hoarding has been an attribute of none of the Rivington family.

His two elder sons, Francis and Charles, carried on the business vigorously. Another son, Robert, captain of the “Kent”--East Indiaman--fell, gallantly defending his ship in the Bay of Bengal, and was thus celebrated in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_:--

* * * * *

“His manly virtue mark’d the generous source, And naval toil confirm’d the naval force; In fortune’s adverse trial undismay’d, A seaman’s zeal and courage he display’d; For honour firmly stood, at honour’s post, And gain’d new glory when his life he lost!”

A fourth son John, a printer in St. John’s Square, had died previously in 1785.

The first important event in the new publishing house was the establishment of the _British Critic_, in which Nares and Beloe were conjoint partners with Francis and Charles Rivington. The _British Critic_ was started in January, 1793, in monthly numbers of two shillings each, and by the end of the century attained a circulation of 3500. The editorship was entrusted to Nares, and with the assistance of Beloe it was conducted down to the forty-second volume in 1813. William Beloe was some time librarian of the British Museum, but a stranger who had been admitted to the print-room, having abused his confidence, and stolen some of the pictures, the librarian was somewhat unjustly asked to resign. Among the other contributors to the _British Critic_ were Dr. Parr--of whom Christopher North says, not unfairly, “in his character of a wit and an author one of the most genuine feather-beds of humbug that ever filled up a corner of the world”--and Whittaker, author of the “History of Manchester.” In 1813, the second series of the _Critic_ was commenced, under the editorship of the Rev. W. R. Lyall, afterwards Dean of Canterbury; in 1825 the publication was made quarterly, and a third series began, which, however, only reached three volumes.

Of all the literary men connected with the Rivingtons of this era, none were more useful, and few deserve more grateful remembrance from posterity, than George Ayrscough---_facile princeps_ of index makers. Originally a miller’s labourer, he obtained a situation in the Rivingtons’ shop, and was afterwards promoted to a clerkship in the British Museum; soon after his further rise to the position of assistant librarian he took orders; but it is as a maker of catalogues and indexes that he is still known; and how great the labour and patient skill needful in compiling the indexes to the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, the _Monthly Review_, and the _British Critic_ must have been, all students can approximately guess from the immensity of labour saved individually by their use.

John, the eldest son of Francis, was admitted a partner in 1810, and in 1819 they took a lease of No. 3, Waterloo Place; and so popular were they at the time that it is said Sir James Allen Park, one of the judges, came down to the new house before nine o’clock on New-year’s Day, that he might enrol himself as their first customer. In 1820 they determined to start a branch house for the sale of second-hand books and general literature, and John Cochrane was placed at the head of this establishment. He collected one of the finest stocks ever gathered, and published the best and most carefully compiled catalogue that had then been issued, extending to 815 pages, and enumerating 17,328 articles, many of the rarest kind. The business, however, entailed considerable losses, and was abandoned in 1827.

On October 18, 1822, Francis Rivington, the senior partner, died, earning a character for high probity and sincere and unaffected piety. Like his father he had been a governor in many charitable institutions. “Such a man,” says the author of his obituary notice, “cannot go unwept to the grave; and the writer of this article, after a friendly intercourse of sixty years, is not ashamed to say that at this moment his eyes are moister than his pen”--a quaint but sincere tribute. He had married Miss M. Elhill, sister of an eminent lead merchant, and four of his sons survived him.

In 1827 George and Francis, sons of Charles, joined the firm; and in 1831, Charles, the younger of the two original brothers, was found dead on the floor of his dressing-room. In social life he was distinguished by the mildness and complacence of his temper; and his conversation was invariably enlivened with anecdotes and memories of the literary men and clergymen with whom he had come in contact.

The firm now, therefore, consisted of John, the son of the elder, and Francis and George, two sons of the younger brother.

We shall see, in the following memoirs of the Parkers, how marvellously religious life was quickened at Oxford by the publication of Keble’s “Christian Year.” This feeling, intense in its inner nature as any of the revivals, culminated or fulminated in the publication of the “Tracts for the Times”--the most important work, perhaps, with which the Rivingtons have ever been connected; and worthy, therefore, of the scanty notice for which we can afford space here. The “Tracts for the Times” were commenced in 1833, at a time, according to the writers, “when irreligious principles and false doctrines had just been admitted into public measures on a large scale ... when the Irish sees had been suppressed by the state against the Church’s wish.... They were written with the hope of rousing members of the Church to comprehend her alarming position--of helping them to realize the fact of the gradual growth, allowance, and establishment of unsound principles in her internal concerns; and, having this object, they used spontaneously the language of alarm and complaint. They were written as a man might give notice of a fire or inundation, so as to startle all who heard him” (vol. iii. p. 3). As far as fulfilment of intention went in startling, the writers were perfectly successful. Exhibiting great talents, depth of thought, logical power, acuteness of reasoning, and an undoubted religious feeling, their effect was spontaneous. By one party, and an increasing one, the writers were welcomed with a reverend love that almost forbade criticism, and by the other with the greatest uneasiness and suspicion. The chief writers in the series, for the “Tracts” continued to appear during the space of several years, were Newman, Pusey, Keble, and Williams. In Ireland the clergy were anxious to come over in a body, and greet them collectively. In Scotland, Pusey and Newman were denounced at a public dinner as enemies to the established religion; and at Oxford, where they were personally loved and respected, they were looked upon by a large portion of the members with peculiar distrust. Parties in the Church were formed, and claimed, or were christened after, the names of the writers--such were originally the _Puseyites_ and _Newmaniacs_. At length the famous “Number 90” appeared, and was thus greeted by the University:--“Modes of interpretation such as are suggested in this tract, evading rather than explaining the sense of the 39 articles, and reconciling subscription to them with the adoption of errors which they were destined to counteract, defeat the object, and are inconsistent with the due observance of the above-mentioned statement.” The Bishop of Oxford forbade their further publication, and shortly afterwards Newman, the author of “Number 90,” showed his honesty by going over to the Roman Catholic Church.

The publication of these “Tracts” still further strengthened the Rivingtons in their position of High Church publishers, and their business benefited considerably by the great increase of the High Church party.

In 1827 a fourth series of the _British Critic_ was commenced, incorporated with the _Theological Review_. In 1843, however, in consequence of the extreme views that had been expressed in its pages, the publication was discontinued, to the very great regret of the clergy; the _English Review_, which started from its ashes, met with but little support, and lasted only till 1853.

To complete our personal account of the firm:--John Rivington, who married Anne, daughter of the Rev. John Blackburn, canon of York, died 21st November, 1841, at the age of 62. His son John was admitted a partner in 1836, and is the present head of the firm. George Rivington died in 1842, having retired on account of ill health in 1857, and in 1859 Mr. Francis Rivington retired from active partnership. The present representatives of the firm consist, therefore, of Mr. John Rivington, fifth in descent from the founder, and Mr. Francis Hansard Rivington, who is the sixth.

In 1853 the firm removed their place of business from the ancient house in St. Paul’s Churchyard, and consolidated it at 3, Waterloo Place, retaining nothing but some warehouses in Paternoster Row. In 1862, after an interval of thirty years, they re-acquired the agency of the Cambridge “Press”--a famous manufactory of Bibles, Prayer Books, and Church Services; and in the next year, 1863, they opened branch houses at both Oxford and Cambridge--an extension of business that, after a long life of 160 years, says something for the vitality of the firm.

* * * * *

In treating of the Parkers, it will be necessary to bear in mind the essential fact that there were two distinct families of that name, both engaged in the publication of religious books, and both interested in the “Bible Press”--the one at Oxford and the other at Cambridge; and though its chief interest, as regards later years, will be centred in the younger (publishing) family, who began life in London, it will be necessary, according to our general plan, to give a preliminary glance at the elder family, whose name is more intimately connected with the University of Oxford.

The first of the Parkers with whom we need concern ourselves was Dr. Samuel Parker, sometime Bishop of Oxford. The product of a changeable age, he was a very Vicar of Bray. While at the University of Oxford, he affected to lead a strictly religious life, and entered a weekly society then called the “Gruellers,” because their chief diet was water gruel; and it was observed “that he put more graves into his porridge than all the rest.” Formerly a nonconformist, having once taken orders, he became chaplain to a nobleman in London, whom he amused with his humorous sallies at the expense of his old comrades the Puritans. During Charles’s reign, his writings were distinguished by the bitterness of his attacks upon the dissenting party; and on the accession of James he was installed in the bishopric of Oxford, upon the death of Dr. Fell--the famous subject of inexplicable dislike. He now embraced the Romish religion, “though,” writes Father Peter, a Jesuit, “he hath not yet declared himself openly; the great obstacle is his wife, whom he cannot rid himself of.” Finding the cause growing desperate, he sent a discourse to James, urging him to embrace the Protestant religion. His authority in the diocese became contemptible, and he died unlamented in 1687. He left, however, a son of his own name, an excellent scholar and a man of singular modesty, who married a bookseller’s daughter, of Oxford, and had a numerous family, to support whom he not only wrote, but published, and himself sold, books of a learned class--the most important of which was the “Bibliotheca Biblica.” He died in 1730, and his son, Sackville Parker, was an eminent bookseller in the Turl, his shop being chiefly frequented by the High Church and non-juring clergy. He was one of the four octogenarian Oxford booksellers who all died between 1795 and 1796, and whose united years amounted to 342. He was succeeded by Joseph Parker, his nephew.

About the year 1790, Joseph Parker was apprenticed to Daniel Prince, whose successor, Joshua Cooke, was agent to the University Press, and thus he was able to become acquainted with the management of its publications. The Bible Press was at this period in debt, and was an annual expense to the University, but Parker saw the feasibility of making it a profitable concern, and, by dint of strenuous persuasion, was, in 1805, allowed to enter into partnership with the University Press, jointly with Cooke and Samuel Collingwood, the latter of whom attended to the printing, while the publishing business was left entirely in Joseph Parker’s hands. Great difficulty was felt at first in borrowing money to meet that advanced by the University. In a few years, however, the debts were paid off, and large profits began to come in, and during his lifetime he was able to pay over upwards of £100,000 into the University chest, building in addition the new printing-office, at a cost of £40,000, investing large sums in “plant,” and leaving a concern that was worth £10,000 a year to the partnership.

For the seven years previous to 1815 the number of Bibles printed at Oxford was 460,500; Testaments, 386,000; of prayer-books, 400,000; of catechisms, psalters, &c., 200,000; and the money received as drawback for paper duty amounted to £18,658 2_s._ 6_d._ For the same period at Cambridge the Bibles numbered 392,000; the Testaments, 423,000; the Prayer-books, 194,000; while the drawback was only upwards of £1087 7_s._ 6_d._ In addition to his interest in the Bible Press, which yielded him about £1000 a year, Joseph Parker, on the death of his regular trade partner, Hanwell, became sole proprietor of the old-established bookselling business of Fletcher and Hanwell, in the Fleet, and, on the retirement of Cooke, succeeded to the office of “Warehouse-keeper,” and also to the appointment of agent for the sale of books published on the “Learned” side of the press; the value of the books sold on this side amounted to from £3000 to £5000 annually, while on the Bible side under his management the sales were something like £100,000 worth.

By far the most important work, however, with which Joseph Parker’s name is concerned, is Keble’s “Christian Year.” We believe that the first risk of publishing was insured by Sir John Coleridge. Nothing could be more unassuming than its first appearance in 1827, in two little volumes, without even the authority of an author’s name. None of the regular literary journals noticed its publication, excepting a friendly greeting in a footnote to an article on another subject in the _Quarterly Review_. Appealing to no enthusiastic feelings, deprecating excitement, and courting no parties, silently and imperceptibly at first, but with increasing rapidity, it found its way among all sections of churchmen, and was the real commencement of that movement in the Church with which afterwards the “Tracts for the Times” were associated. At Oxford, when once its popularity was attained, its effects were marvellous; young men dropped the slang talk of horses and women and wine, and went about with hymns upon their lips; instead of the riotous joviality of “wines,” the evening meetings became austere; and even the most careless made some little temporary effort to be better and purer. Partaking of the nature of a revival--among a better-educated and less-impressionable class than that usually affected by such movements--its strongest outward symptoms were of longer than ordinary duration, and its inner effects much deeper.

The most popular volume of poems of recent times, it is said in the number of its editions to have out-rivalled Mr. Tupper’s works (we state a fact merely, with an apology for mentioning the two names together); in less than twenty years, twenty-seven editions had been exhausted.[24]

The author’s profits, as well as the publisher’s, were large, and the Rev. J. Keble devoted his portion of them to the entire reconstruction of his own church, that of Hursley, in Hampshire.

In 1832 Joseph Parker retired from business, retaining, however, his share in the Bible Press until his death in 1850.

Mr. John Henry Parker, his nephew, was the son of John Parker, merchant, of the City of London, and was born in the year 1806. After receiving a good education at Dr. Harris’s school at Chiswick, he entered the bookselling trade in 1821, and was consequently fully prepared, eleven years later, to occupy the position just vacated by his uncle.

Mr. John Henry Parker is known almost as well as an antiquarian, and as a writer on architecture, as a publisher. He continued his uncle’s business at Oxford, and extended it to London, where for many years it was under the management of Mr. Whitaker. The University, however, bought in again the share held by his uncle, in 1850, and declined admitting Mr. J. H. Parker as a partner unless he undertook to give up general business, as by a clause in the deed of partnership none of the temporary proprietors are allowed to follow any other calling. Mr. Parker’s business was in such a profitable condition as to render such a step totally out of the question. He acted, however, as agent for the Oxford Press for many years.

In 1856 the Gentleman’s Magazine was transferred to his house, and for some time he was, with two other gentlemen, conjoint editor; and in 1863 he retired in favour of his son James, devoting his time exclusively to the study of architecture. Among his best-known writings are “The Glossary of Architecture,” and “An Introduction to the Study of Architecture,” both of which are considered standard works on the subject.

In 1863, the year of his retirement, the agency of the works published by the delegates of the Oxford University Press was transferred to Messrs. Macmillan and Co., and the ancient connection was altogether broken. Mr. James Parker, however, still continues the Oxford book-trade, though we believe the London house does the more important business.

Having dealt thus cursorily with the firm of John Henry and Joseph Parker, of London and Oxford, we come to the somewhat similar title of John William Parker and Son, of the West Strand, London.

John William Parker,[25] whose father was in the navy, was born in the year 1793, and at an early age entered the service of the late Mr. Clowes, printer, then only commencing business, and, at the age of 14, was bound apprentice to him. Here he took a strong dislike to the irksomeness of case, and it was found more profitable to employ him in the counting-house generally, where his retentive memory and his habits of close observation were quickly turned to good account. When, indeed, most of the records were destroyed by the outbreak of a fire, young Parker’s memory was found most essential as a substitute for the current business documents.

Messrs. Clowes commenced their printing establishment in a very small way, but soon progressed, and were among the first to use the steam press; but as they were then in Northumberland Court, Strand, their neighbour, the Duke of Northumberland, brought an action against them for causing a nuisance, and eventually bought them out of their tenement, and Parker induced Clowes to purchase the lease and plant of a factory in Duke Street, Stamford Street, which had been started unsuccessfully by Applegarth, the inventor of the steam press. Here, undisturbed by neighbouring aristocrats, Parker became the manager of the business, and it prospered so exceedingly that he established a printing-press of his own in the immediate vicinity, and found it necessary to live in Stamford Street, where he made the acquaintance of Dr. D’Oyley, Rector of Lambeth, Dr. Mant, and a number of other influential clergymen, whose connection with the venerable “Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge” eventually stood him in good stead.

About the year 1828, the University of Cambridge found that the receipts from its Press were barely sufficient to cover the expenses, while at the sister University, under the management of Collingwood and Mr. Joseph Parker, the annual returns were not only large, but increasing yearly. In this strait the Syndics applied to Mr. Clowes, who sent Mr. Parker down to inspect. The sensible manner in which he at once detected the faults of the establishment, and suggested improvements, led to his immediate engagement as advising printer at a salary of £200; and he soon proved his worth by turning to account the apparently useless stereotype plates; from one set alone, in one year, he cleared £1500 by cutting out the heads of chapters, &c., and re-setting them in new type. He re-opened the account with the “Bible Society,” and in dealing with the “Christian Knowledge Society,” abolished the tax of middlemen.

Parker had hoped, by his energy and perseverance, to become a partner with Mr. Clowes, but finding this precluded by family arrangements, he established himself at 445, West Strand, and at once received the appointment of “publisher of the books issued under the direction of the Committee of General Literature and Education, appointed by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.” This “Committee” had been established to sanction and recommend books of a wholesome character, but which, not dealing chiefly with religious matters, were believed to be out of the legitimate sphere of the original Society’s operations.

In July the first number of the _Saturday Magazine_ appeared. Mr. Parker was his own editor, and many of the illustrations were from the pencil of his son, Mr. Frederick Parker, who died very young. The _Saturday Magazine_--one of the three parents of our cheap periodical literature--was published weekly at the low price of a penny, and, a _répertoire_ of useful and entertaining facts, and not much else, was intended to counteract the effects of the licentious publications of the day, then the only ones within reach of the poorer classes. It was continued successfully for thirty-five volumes; but is more interesting now as the foreshadowing of a better time than for any intrinsic value of its own. It was eventually merged in _Parker’s London Magazine_.

445, West Strand became, of course, the Cambridge Depository for Bibles, Testaments, and Common Prayer-books printed at the University Press, and, at the death of Smith, Parker was appointed printer to the University at a salary of £400 a year, and visited Cambridge once or twice a fortnight. For many years, in spite of all his strenuous efforts and his repeated advice, the Bible Society set their faces resolutely against steam-printing. On one occasion he prepared a large edition of the nonpareil Bible at two-thirds of the price then charged, and took a dozen copies to the manager, Mr. Cockle, hoping that the Bible Society would encourage so laudable an improvement. The manager hummed and hawed, sent for the binder, told him in confidence that the Cambridge people had kindly prepared some cheap Bibles printed by machinery, but he thought “from the smallness of the margins they _might_ not fold evenly, and was not sure that, as a cheaper ink had been used, they _might_ not set off when pressed,” and all these predictions were verified, and the Committee would not sanction the purchase of such rubbish. Strangely enough, two or three years later, when cheap Bibles were eagerly called for, the whole of the rejected set were purchased by the Society, and no difficulty was experienced in their manipulation.

William IV. having expressed his royal wish for a Bible, Mr. Parker determined to print one specially, and on the occasion of the installation prepared a dozen sheets, which were pulled by the Duke of Wellington and other magnates; this is the first book ever printed with red rules round, and, as the “King’s Bible,” attained in various forms and sizes a great success. A committee was appointed to read and revise it, and it was purposed to make it the standard edition. One copy upon vellum was intended for the King, but as he died before its completion, her present Majesty Queen Victoria was graciously pleased to accept it. After some years Parker’s interest in the Bible Press flagged, and much dissatisfaction was caused, and about 1853 he retired altogether from the management.

Parker had from a very early date thought of printing his own books, and started an office that was afterwards removed to St. Martin’s Lane, but ultimately relinquished the management to Mr. Harrison, whom he took into partnership. When the Council of Education was formed Parker was appointed publisher, and gave every assistance in the way of funds and encouragement, and Mr. Hullah, in particular, found in him a warm supporter.

Parker was twice married; by his first wife he had two sons, Frederick and John William, and this latter, born in 1820, after receiving a good education at King’s College, was admitted into the house in 1843, and in a few years took the chief management of the general business.

Under Mr. John William Parker, Jun., the house became identified with the Liberal and Broad Church party, and till his death he held the reins of _Fraser’s Magazine_ entirely in his own hands. Strangely had that periodical altered since the days of Maginn and Fraser. Now it was the centre, in connection with 445, West Strand, from which issued the teachings of Maurice, Kingsley, and Tom Brown--the nursery of muscular Christianity--in one sense the cradle of Christian Socialism.

Mr. Parker, Jun., in his capacity of publisher and editor felt an immense responsibility, and really believed that the bishops of the Church of England held but sinecure offices, while he, and the heads of other publishing firms, were our virtual spiritual fathers and directors. He made himself no partizan in the religious and political questions of the day, and no prospect of pecuniary advantage would induce him to publish a book until he was first assured that it was the expression of honest conviction, or the result of honest labour. “One day,” says the writer of an obituary notice, “going into Mr. Parker’s room, we found his pale face paler than usual with anger. ‘Look at these,’ he said, putting a bundle of letters into our hands, ‘or rather do not look at them.’ A lady, eminent in certain circles as a spiritual teacher, wanted him to publish a devotional book for her. She had sent him the private correspondence of some thirty different ladies, who had trusted her with the innermost secrets of their souls and consciences, as an advertisement of herself, her abilities, and her popularity. Mr. Parker was perhaps never seen more indignant. He declined the book on the spot. He returned the letters with a regret that the lady should have sent him what had been intended for no eye but her own. A few days after he showed us the lady’s reply. Stung by the rebuke, she had dropped the mask for the moment, and had told him she did not require to be lectured on her duty by an insolent tradesman.”

Of the success with which Mr. Parker’s publications met it is sufficient to mention the names of Maurice, Kingsley, Mill, Buckle, and Lewis. Fruitful of discussion as were the works of the writers mentioned, they were all thrown into a temporary shade by the cry that arose on the publication, in 1860, of “Essays and Reviews,” to which only the first named contributed. Shortly after the appearance of the volume a document was issued, bearing the signature of every bishop of the united Church, condemning many of the propositions of the book as inconsistent with an honest subscription to her formularies. This was succeeded by an address to the Archbishop of Canterbury, signed by more than 10,000 clergymen, condemning in the strongest terms the teaching of the essayists. As we all remember, the case was tried in the Court of Arches, and led to the temporary suspension of Dr. Williams and Mr. Wilson; a suspension that was afterwards reversed by the Privy Council. But this case, interesting as it may be for the student in the future, though one of too many _causes célèbres_ of church persecution, is too well known to detain us longer at present.

Mr. Parker, who took a deep interest in all religious questions, held weekly gatherings at his house, and was loved and respected by his clients, who regarded him as a friend rather than a business aid. He died in 1861, and for the moment the knot of earnest men who were clustered round _Fraser’s Magazine_ were dispersed. But in the year 1863 the agency of the works published by the delegates of the Oxford University Press was transferred from the other Parkers to Messrs. Macmillan, and henceforth _Macmillan’s Magazine_ and its contributors may be considered as an offshoot from 445, West Strand.

After the death of his son, Mr. Parker, who had for some years taken little active part in the management of the business, took his old assistant, Mr. William Butler Bown, into partnership; but the connection did not last long, and in 1863 the stock and copyrights were disposed of to Messrs. Longman, who agreed to allow Mr. Bown an annuity of £750 a year, which he only lived a year and a half to enjoy.

On May 18th, 1870, Mr. John William Parker died at his country house near Farnham. By his first wife he left two daughters living, and by his second (the daughter of Dr. Mantell, the well-known geologist) one son and two daughters. He was seventy-eight years of age at the time of his death; and, though his life presents us with little that is striking or historically strange, he had played an honest part manfully, and may be remembered as one of the few instances in which a publisher, successful as an architect of his own fortune, has been wise enough to transfer his business at the very zenith of its success to the keeping of other hands, when he had ascertained that his own were too aged for its proper maintenance and management. The Broad Church, so called, and the liberal thought of the country, owe much to the now defunct firm of John William Parker and Son.

* * * * *

JAMES NISBET, the son of a poor Scotch farmer, who afterwards became a cavalry serjeant, was born on Feb. 3rd, 1785. After receiving the ordinary rudiments of education he was apprenticed to Mr. Wilson of Kelso for three years, but having obtained the offer of a situation in London he was permitted to leave before his indentures had expired. He left Scotland with only four guineas in his purse, and being delayed on the road, was obliged to sell his violin. On reaching town he became clerk to a Mr. Hugh Usher, a West India merchant in Moorfields, and his salary commencing at £54 12_s._ per annum took some years before it increased to £120.

James Nisbet’s career has been to a certain extent chronicled by his son-in-law, the Rev. J. A. Wallace, in a volume entitled, “Lessons from the Life of James Nisbet, the Publisher”--not, says the author, “a mere biography”--would that it were!--but a series of forty chapters or lessons, each commencing with a text and ending with a hymn. To its rambling and incoherent pages we are indebted, however, to many of the facts in the following notice.

On the evening of Nisbet’s arrival in London a young Scottish friend took him about sight-seeing. The walk terminated in a blind alley and a strange looking house--which instinct at once told him was “the house of the destroyer.” He gave up intercourse with his companion, and fled away hastily, and not till some few days afterwards, when he found a refuge in the Swallow Street Chapel, did he recover his equanimity.

From his earliest boyhood he had a great liking for “the courts of the Lord;” a pocket-book dated 1805, contains a list of places at which the gospel was reported to be purely preached. It seems, too, that his favourite books at this time were Henry’s “Commentary,” Cruden’s “Concordance,” Hall’s “Contemplations,” and Baxter’s “Saints’ Rest.” At the Swallow Street Chapel he met his future wife.

As befitted a persevering and energetic man he was an early riser, yet he found that not only did his business require it, but he discovered “our Lord when on earth rising a great while before day that He might spend some time in secret prayer, and David says, ‘Early will I seek Thee.’” So good a habit scarcely needed so lofty an apology.

His father appears to have remonstrated with him as to his excess of zeal: “Concerning the meetings you attend, God Almighty never designed man to spend all his time in godliness; He designed such as you and me to work for our bread”--advice that had not much effect, for we find Nisbet writing when down home in Scotland in 1808, “I have lost much time in coming here--no Thursday night sermons, no companion with whom I would wish to be on intimate friendship, and no Sabbath schools; and the Sabbath is a very poor Sabbath, very unlike our dear Sabbath in London.”

Having, however, returned to London in 1809, he commenced business for himself on a very limited scale as a bookseller in Castle Street, and characteristically the first books sold were copies of Streeter’s “Catechism.” In due course of time he prospered, was admitted to the freedom of the City of London, and elected to the office of Renter Warden in the Stationers’ Company.

As soon as his reputation as a religious publisher was established, he purchased a house in Berners Street--“the great object of his ambition being, not to amass a large fortune for aggrandisement, but to be the pious proprietor of a comfortable dwelling, which he could throw open for the hospitable entertainment of godly men.”

He firmly adhered to his principles of publishing books of one peculiar class, and rigidly excluded everything that was not of a moral or religious character; and not satisfied with purchasing the copyright of his authors upon highly advantageous terms, often added a liberal bonus when the work proved profitable. “To such a degree,” says his biographer, “did his generosity overflow, that one estimable man, ‘whose praise is in all the churches,’ felt constrained to put the curb on his publisher’s largesse. ‘I shall agree to accept one hundred pounds, and no more,’ commences one of his legal agreements.”

Such conduct had its reward, for, says Mr. Wallace, “notwithstanding the humble position which James Nisbet occupied as a mere shopkeeper, so high was the estimation in which he was held as a philanthropist and a churchman that he was occasionally honoured by pressing invitations from families in the higher ranks of life, to visit them at their country seats”--the lesson drawn from such amazing condescension by the biographer being, “Him that honoureth I will honour”--and accordingly Nisbet went for a whole week to Tollymore Park, and naturally writes from there: “What a blessed thing it is to be a Christian.” The curious

## chapter in which this visit is recorded is headed, “Yea, brother, let

me have joy of thee in the Lord.”

Among the numerous authors with whom Nisbet was connected was Edward Irving, for whom he published “Discourses on Daniel’s Vision of the Four Beasts,” and other books. Irving, by far the greatest orator and most eloquent speaker of our later times, “was for long enshrined in the warm recesses of Nisbet’s heart, and Nisbet not only sat under him, but contributed £21,000 to the Regent’s Square Church. But the love of truth was in Nisbet stronger than earthly affection, and soon the gift of speaking with unknown tongues was discovered.” “Last Sabbath,” writes Nisbet, “a most tumultuous scene took place, the lives of many people being in jeopardy, so that even Mr. Irving himself was terrified, and said that he would not allow the spirits to speak again in public.” He was then accused of heresy, and Nisbet, like most conscientious men, felt constrained to side against him. An ecclesiastical assize was holden for his trial, in March, 1833, at which a strange scene occurred. His answer to the charge was rather an authoritative command than an apology, perorating thus:--

“I stand here not by constraint, but willingly. Do what you like. I ask not judgment of you; my judgment is with my God; and as to the General Assembly, the spirit of judgment is departed from it. Oh, know ye not how near ye are to the brink of destruction. Ye need not expedite your fall. All are dead carrion. The Church is struggling with many enemies, but her word is within herself--I mean this wicked assembly.”

Then after the trial he was found guilty, and the sentence of deposition was about to be prefaced with prayer, when a loud voice was heard from behind a pew where Irving stood:--“Arise, depart! arise, depart! flee ye out, flee ye out of here! ye cannot pray! How can ye pray? How can ye pray to Christ whom ye deny? Ye cannot pray. Depart, depart! flee, flee!” The church was at this moment wrapped in silent darkness, and when this strange voice ceased, the 2000 sprang trembling to their feet as though the judgment day had come. On lighting a candle, however, it was ascertained that the speaker was a Mr. Dow, who had been lately ousted from the church for similar views. Irving rose grandly to obey the call, and pressing through the crowd that thronged the doorway and the aisles he thundered: “Stand forth! stand forth! what, will ye not obey the voice of the Holy Ghost? As many as will obey the voice of the Holy Ghost, let them depart!” Onward he went to the door, and then came to the last words:--“Prayer, indeed, oh!” and thus he left his church for ever.

Thousands and almost millions of tracts and small books did Nisbet scatter broadcast, freely to those who could not pay, with small charge to those who could. And at the period of the “Disruption” he circulated at his own expense, not only in Scotland and Ireland, but all over England, great multitudes of Dr. James Hamilton’s “Farewell.” But even in the midst of these labours the ungodly were busy, and a rumour was circulated that James Nisbet had gone over to the Church of Rome; and this, in spite of his well-known antipathies, gained considerable credence. The following is from a letter from Mr. Wolff:--“I, a few days ago, read in the _Morning Post_ that an eminent and successful bookseller had entered the Church of Rome. I thought that this bookseller must be one of the Tractarian party (the Rivingtons), but to my utter astonishment I heard it whispered that the bookseller was nobody else than Mr. James Nisbet, his whole family, and my old friend Mr. Murray, with the observation that ‘one extreme leads to the other extreme.’... My dear Nisbet and Murray, what could induce you to do such a spite to your John Knox, Chalmers, and Gordon, and join with a rotten church? Nobody is more impatient in acknowledging the good things to be found in the Church of Rome than myself, yet I would rather see the Pope and all his cardinals fly to the moon than become a Papist again. In fact I never was one.” (A curious way of putting it.)

This was not the only hoax by which James Nisbet was a sufferer. Later on, a practical joke was played upon him by some wag, who sent the following to a large number of country papers:--

“Nearly Ready, in Three Handsome Octavo Volumes, “LITERARY PYROTECHNICS; or, Squibs, Pasquins, Lampoons, and other Sparkling Pleasantries, by the best English Writers, from the Reign of Elizabeth to the Present Day, with Philological Notes by the Hon. the Vice-Chancellor Sir William Page Wood, Knt. “James Nisbet and Co., Berners-street, London.”

This very advertisement was directed to be inserted in the next issue, and a copy of the paper containing the advertisement was to be sent to the publisher with the price of inserting it four or six times. About one hundred papers fell into the snare, to James Nisbet’s horror and amazement.

Nisbet was a very charitable man to all of his way of thinking. The “Saints” were freely welcomed to his hospitable house, which was used as a free hotel by travelling missionaries and preachers, who often said a grateful “grace for all the rich mercies of his table.” He was one of the chief supporters of the Fitzroy Schools, and one of the most zealous founders of the Sunday School Union. Nor was he wanting in generosity to general and more publicly useful charities; and, during a period of thirty years, his books show that he collected for more than five hundred institutions, and that the total amount that passed through his hands was £114,339 16_s._ 4_d._

It is pleasant, amid the farrago of religious cant and trash with which the “Lessons from his Life” are surrounded, to find some glimmering of the real man--the enterprising and successful bookseller. “From his energy of character, and from habit, he was more accustomed to lead others than to be led himself; therefore, any attempt to alter or set aside arrangements which he had himself devised ... was almost sure to meet with, on his part, a strenuous and determined resistance.”

In 1854, when the cholera was raging in London, his brave conduct was far above any party praise. The position of chairman of the Middlesex Hospital devolved temporarily upon him, and fearlessly he set about his difficult duty. Day after day he was at his post, directing all things, and alleviating, with every means in his power, the physical sufferings of the patients; and still, while adopting all that was proper to check the progress of the disease, not unmindful of administering the consolations of religion.

He died on the 8th November, 1854, having been seized with a violent illness on his return from a before-breakfast visit to the Orphan Working School at Haverstock Hill.

In a funeral sermon, preached by Dr. Hamilton at Regent’s Square church, his character is thus summed up, both sides of it being cautiously exhibited:--“With a sanguine temperament, he had strong convictions and an eager spirit; and, whilst he sometimes magnified into an affair of principle a matter of secondary importance, he was impatient of opposition, and did not always concede to an opponent the sincerity he so justly claimed for himself. Then, again, his openness was almost excessive, and his determination to flatter nobody sometimes led him to say things more plain than pleasant.... Those only could appreciate his excellence who either knew his entire mode of life, or whose casual acquaintance was confined to the walks of his habitual benevolence.”

As a publisher, he was eminently successful, and reaped a due reward for his honest industry; never had he a bad debt but once, and, on recovering that unexpectedly, he presented the amount of it, in a silver service, to a church. The books he issued were chiefly of an ephemeral religious class, and literature is certainly less indebted to his success than were the charitable institutions of the day.

Mr. James Murray, who had been Nisbet’s partner in business for many years, succeeded to the command of the firm; and, after his death at Richmond in June, 1862, Mr. Watson, the present manager, was appointed by the family to superintend the whole concern.

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_BUTTERWORTH AND CHURCHILL_:

TECHNICAL LITERATURE.

In treating of “technical literature,” we shall encounter many works which were rightly described by Charles Lamb as “books which are not books;” and the present chapter will be interesting rather as containing biographical notices of men who thoroughly deserved, and thoroughly achieved, success, than for any bibliographical anecdotes we can lay before the reader.

The value of technical literature, in a publishing point of view, had been correctly estimated in the very earliest times of bookselling annals, and Richard Tottell (or Tothill), an original member of the Stationers’ Company, and eventually their chairman, had in Edward the Sixth’s reign, and subsequently in Queen Elizabeth’s, succeeded in obtaining a patent for law-books; and when, through the petition of the Stationers’ Company, he was compelled to forego some of the works which he had thus monopolised, he warily “kept his law-books to himself, and yielded ‘Dr. Wilson upon Usurie,’ and ‘The Sonnets of th’ Earle of Surrey.’” Tothill, however, did still publish other books than those relating to the very remunerative branch of law; for, in 1562, he produced “Stow’s Abridgment of the Chronicles of England;” and, in 1590, “Tusser’s Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry.” His name would, probably, have been unknown, at all events forgotten, had he not occupied the _Hands and Star_ in Temple Bar, the very same shop which, two-and-a-half centuries afterwards, Henry Butterworth again rendered famous as the great emporium of legal books.

Tothill was succeeded by John More (he had been previously represented, but only for awhile, by Barker and others), and we have already seen that Samuel Richardson, and Lintott’s granddaughter, had obtained the patent of King’s Printers for legal books; this brings us up in date to, at all events, the uncle of the subject of our present memoir.

Henry Butterworth, the most famous of all our law-publishers, was born on 28th February, 1786, in the city of Coventry. His father was a wealthy timber-merchant, and his ancestors fairly claimed alliance with the great county families, though Butterworth Hall, in the township of Butterworth, near Rochdale, in their possession since Stephen’s reign, had already fallen into alien hands. The Rev. John Butterworth, his grandfather, had removed from Rochdale to Coventry; he was well known as the author of a “Concordance to the Holy Scriptures,” which passed through several editions, and was the received work upon the subject until the appearance of Cruden’s more famous “Concordance.”

Young Henry Butterworth was educated at the Public Grammar School, in Coventry, and afterwards placed under the tutorial care of Dr. Johnson, of Bristol; but at the early age of fourteen, his education (inasmuch as book-learning was concerned) was considered at an end, and he entered the large sugar-refinery of Mr. Stock, of Bristol. But the hot atmosphere, and the incessant and laborious toil, proved too much for young Butterworth’s health, though the work had otherwise been rendered pleasant enough through his master’s kindness. As he had already shown much business talent and ability, Stock urged Mr. Joseph Butterworth, his own relation by marriage, and Henry Butterworth’s uncle, to do something for the lad. Joseph Butterworth accordingly made overtures to Henry’s family, and though they were loath to send their son to the distant trials and temptations of the metropolis, the offer was a tempting one, as it contained a tacit promise of admitting him, at some future time, to a partnership in the enormous business. Young Butterworth at once determined to accept the proposal; and on the 5th December, 1801, he arrived in London by the Bristol coach, having left Bristol straightway, without even having had an opportunity of bidding his relatives farewell.

The business carried on at No. 43, Fleet Street, was on a very extensive scale, and Joseph Butterworth was not only a well-known member of Parliament, but was an exceedingly wealthy and zealous philanthropist; and at his uncle’s dinner table young Henry Butterworth met many eminent and good men who were associated together to fight in a common cause--among others we may particularize Wilberforce, Teignmouth, Liverpool, Bexley, Zachary Macaulay, and Robert and Charles Grant--and from the time of his first introduction he enrolled his name among these ardent religious and social reformers.

Young Butterworth entered very heartily into the conduct of his uncle’s business, and, owing to his efforts, its relations were very vastly extended.

In 1813 he was in a position to marry a lady of birth and fortune, the daughter of Captain Whitehead, of the Fourth Irish Dragoon Guards, who not only afterwards entered fully into all his philanthropic projects, but possessed a refined and cultivated intellect, which found utterance in a volume of “Songs and Poems,” by E. H. B., published by Pickering in 1848, which are evidently, as the authoress says of another gift--

“An offering from a heart sincere. Tho’ small and worthless, what I send, ’Tis hallowed by affection’s tear.”

In 1818, Butterworth found that there was little likelihood of his admission, as had been previously agreed upon, to a satisfactory share of his uncle’s business; and having now to consider not only his own interests, but the welfare of a wife and family, he determined, with a sense of disappointment, to seek an independent roof, and there to carry out, on his own account, the art and mystery of law printing.

Before we follow him to his new abode, we will devote a few words to his uncle’s successful career. Joseph Butterworth, who had, in connection with Whieldon, founded a very large law-publishing business, realized, it is said, the largest fortune ever made by law publishing, and was one of the original founders of the British and Foreign Bible Society, its earliest meetings being held at his house in Fleet Street. His son died before him, and his business was sold to Messrs. Saunders and Benning; and after various fortunes, the shop became the Bible warehouse of Messrs. Spottiswoode.

Henry Butterworth, supported by his father’s capital, took a lease of No. 7, Fleet Street, a house which had been, as we have seen previously, occupied by Tothill and other ancient law publishers. And from this shop were issued the vellum-bound volumes whose contents are sacred to all but those assiduously apprenticed to the law. Butterworth’s position was still further improved by his appointment to the profitable post of Queen’s law publisher. To the general student the law-books of the period are as little known as they were to that worthy country justice who, wishing to learn something definite about the law he so zealously administered, told his bookseller to send him forthwith the “Mirror for Magistrates;” and the vastly popular law-books did not, of course, come within the province of the technical publisher. Butterworth, however, saw the decline of two works which had been regarded as time-honoured text-books on the subject--Burn’s “Justice” and Blackstone’s “Commentaries.” Many booksellers had made large fortunes out of Burn since the time when the author, wearied out with carrying his manuscript from shop to shop, had accepted a nominal fee to get it off his hands; and now Butterworth, by publishing Serjeant Stephen’s celebrated “Commentaries on the Laws of England”--the most successful law-work of modern times--erased Blackstone from the category of legal text-books.

Butterworth, however, though energetic as a publisher, found time to take part in the government of the city. In 1823 he was elected as representative of the ward of Farringdon Street Without, but he afterwards declined to be nominated to the office of sheriff. However, his connection with the city was still further strengthened by his appointment as Commissioner of Income and Property Tax, and Land and Assessed Taxes for London, and also as Commissioner of Roads. On his first arrival in town he had served in a light volunteer regiment, recruited to resist the aggression of the great Napoleon; and on his retirement from the corporation, about the year 1841, he received a captain’s commission in the Royal London Militia.

We gather something of Butterworth’s general kindness and consideration to those beneath him in station from the following anecdote:--Shortly after the passing of the new Poor Law Act in 1834, the guardians of the West Surrey Union ordered that the annual Christmas dinner for the workhouse inmates should consist, as wont, of roast beef and plum-pudding. The Poor Law Board--a new broom--was horrified at this munificence, and sent down their inspector, Dr. Kay, to inquire into the proposed extravagance. He offered a compromise by substituting boiled beef for roast, not that it would be in any degree cheaper, but that (a satisfactory object, we suppose, to the Board) it would not be quite so palatable. Butterworth, who was one of the guardians, was inflexible, and finally sent in his resignation; but as he was too useful a local authority to be spared, the Board sent back the resignation, and permitted the paupers to feast upon the disputed beef, roast.

In his later years Butterworth took much interest in church-building, and at Tooting, St. Dunstan’s-in-the-West, and his native city of Coventry, he subscribed large sums for that purpose.

After the death of his wife, which occurred in 1853, he gradually withdrew from general society, though he still attended the congenial meetings of the Stationers’ Company. The day of his death was, curiously enough, the most important day in the law publishing year--the first day of term--2nd November, 1860. On the previous evening he had given his annual admonition to those around him in business to awake up from the lethargy of the long vacation, and on the following morning it was found that he had passed away, as if in sleep.

For nearly sixty years Butterworth had occupied a leading position as a publisher and as a citizen, and during that period had won the friendship and respect of all who came in contact with him. The alms which his industry enabled him to make were conscientiously, quietly, and discriminatingly bestowed: and the painted glass memorial window erected to him in the choir of the Cathedral of St. Paul’s was a fitting tribute from a very large number of friends and admirers, many of whom had experienced the kindly assistance of his friendship and advice.

* * * * *

As we have previously seen, divinity and education were among the first subjects to attract a special attention, and works relating to them would otherwise have come within our category of technical books. No sooner, however, were the lawyers fairly supplied with special text-books than the doctors began to clamour for the like, and the publisher who has of all others most zealously administered to their wants is still happily amongst us.

John Churchill was born about the commencement of the century, and was apprenticed in the year 1816 to Messrs. Cox and Son, medical booksellers in Southwark. “The house of business was,” he says, “immediately adjoining Guy’s and St. Thomas’s Hospitals, and became the daily resort of the lecturers and numerous students of the schools; I thus early in life became known to the celebrated men of the day, little anticipating that eventually I should become the publisher of Guy’s and St. Thomas’s Hospital Reports, and of so large a proportion of the works that issued from the medical press.”

At the time when young Churchill entered the profession of medical publishing, the periodicals, and, of course, the standard technical works, presented a striking contrast to those at present in existence, for now the medical profession assert, with the greatest truth, that their special organs are of far higher intrinsic worth, and of far better “tone” of thought and expression, than those relating to any other purely technical subject. For years, however, after Churchill became a bookseller’s assistant the medical press was only on a par with the papers relating to the other professions, and was chiefly represented by the _Medico-Chirurgical Review_, founded by J. Johnson in 1820, and the _Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal_, a work we have already come across in our notice of Constable. These reviews contained no original reports, no strictures on the hospital appointments then jobbed, like everything else, to men of wealth, family, and interest. In fact, they consisted of little besides long and elaborate abstracts of new books.

On Sunday, 2nd October, 1823, the first number of a journal that was to cause a great revolution in medical literature, and to affect in no slight degree the whole medical profession, was issued from a small publishing shop in the Strand. The journal was, of course, the _Lancet_, and the publisher young Thomas Wakley. Wakley had walked the united hospitals of Guy’s and St. Thomas’s, and had taken his degree in 1817. He does not appear to have practised regularly till, about 1822, he took a small shop in the Strand, and with the assistance, in a pecuniary point of view, of Collard (now the senior partner of the famous piano factory) determined to start a thoroughly independent medical journal. The first number contained a report of a lecture by Sir A. Cooper, printed from memory. The professors and hospital officers fired up, and for long Wakley had to encounter the same difficulties and almost the same penalties which Cave had previously undergone in commencing his reports of Parliamentary proceedings. As a former student, Wakley attended the lectures, and, like other students, was seen to take occasional notes. Cooper could not, however, bring the charge home till he hit upon the device of calling at midnight at his lodgings, and asking to see the “doctor” upon urgent medical business, when he surprised him red-handed correcting a proof-sheet of a lecture. The discovery was so sudden and so undeniable that neither could refrain from laughter; and eventually Cooper, not ill-humouredly, offered to allow his lectures to appear if the proofs were first sent him for revision. Consequently, Cooper, though often criticised in the _Lancet_, never received a nickname, as did most of the other medical celebrities of the day. For instance, Brodie was known as the “little eminent;” Earle, the “cock sparrow;” Mayo, the “owl;” and Halford, the “eel-backed.”

The _Lancet_, for many years, was hated by that part of the profession interested in vested rights, and eagerly patronised by general surgeons and students. The language of the _Lancet_ was as violent as the many abuses it attacked could justify; and Cobbett, who was a friend and adviser of Wakley’s, was adopted as a model, while a barrister, named Keen, used to join the party on printing nights to see that the free strictures were not legally liable as libels. An active, though unpaid, member of the staff, was Lawrence, who, however, forsook his reforming principles when once he became a placeman, and was succeeded by Wardrop, whose scurrility, wit, and venom did much in giving the _Lancet_ a lasting reputation for raciness of style and satirical power. They were shortly afterwards joined by Mr. J. F. Clarke, who edited the periodical for upwards of forty years, and to whose amusing and graphic autobiography we are indebted for much of the preceding details. The success of the _Lancet_ soon enabled Wakley to enter Parliament as a representative of Finsbury, and he actually combined together the work of the legislator, the coroner, and the editor, often toiling unremittingly for eighteen consecutive hours.

By the time the _Lancet_ was thus firmly established, Churchill, long out of his apprenticeship, had commenced medical publishing on his own account; and from his famous shop, in New Burlington Street, issued most of the standard works upon the subject; and, encouraged by the success of the _Lancet_, he determined to make his establishment the centre of periodical, as well as more permanent, medical literature. In 1836, was started therefrom the _British and Foreign Medical Review_, conducted first by J. Forbes, and afterwards by J. C. Conolly. In 1848, it was merged into the _Medico-Chirurgical Review_, which, from 1824 to 1847, had been under the editorship of H. J. Johnson. These two were now amalgamated into the _British and Foreign Medico-Chirurgical Review_, which, dating from Churchill’s establishment, has acquired a professional standing equal to that of the _Edinburgh_ and _Quarterly Reviews_ in more general criticism. In 1839, appeared the first number of the _Medical Times and Gazette_, which, under the editorial care of T. P. Healey, and subsequently of J. L. Bushman, has found a very large and influential _clientèle_.

The medical writers have at present something in common with the early authors. Their works bring them in more remuneration through eventual patronage than from habitual sale, but their patronage is that of all the great public, who are waiting to have their ailments cured. As an instance of the way in which literature may improve the position of a medical man, it is stated by Mr. W. Clarke that, through Elliotson’s clinical reports in the _Lancet_, his income was raised, in one year, from £500 to £5000. And yet, on the other hand, when he openly gave in his adherence to the newly-imported doctrine of mesmerism, his large public and private practice almost entirely deserted him; and as the legitimate organs were closed to one so abandoned as even to experiment in “the unknown,” he started a medico-mesmeric journal of his own, the _Zoist_, which was, of course, not published by Mr. Churchill.

There is necessarily the same want of general interest in medical as in legal bibliography; and, as in the latter case, works more popularly known were almost invariably published by the usual popular publishers. For instance, Dr. Buchan’s “Domestic Medicine”--probably the most profitable medical book ever written (but not to the author, as he sold the copyright for five pounds), after being re-written by Smellie--was issued in 1770, by the ordinary booksellers. During the author’s lifetime, nineteen editions, each of five thousand, were published, and the volume was translated into all the modern languages.

If Mr. Churchill’s catalogue can show no book with a popularity like this, it displays many which, appealing only to a class audience, and necessarily obliged to keep pace with the discoveries of the day, have at once retained their high price and yet reached the honour of numerous editions.

It is probably owing chiefly to this fact of an incessant demand by a large section of, at all events, one branch of students, that technical publishing has proved so remunerative, and has escaped, in a great degree, the risk attached to other departments of the trade.

At the close of the year 1870, Mr. Churchill resolved to give up the

## active management of his large business, and issued a farewell circular

to the trade: “After fifty-five years’ active and immediate association with your profession, I see it my duty to retire into private life. Be my future days few or many, I shall ever retain a lively sense of the many friendships I have formed, and of the unvarying proofs of confidence and regard shown to me through so long a series of years. My pathway of life has been a happy one, bringing me into daily correspondence with the _élite_ of the profession, and united with them in promoting the interests of science and literature, while the success of my many publications has both gratified and amply rewarded my exertions. My sons, John and Augustus Churchill, have been eight years associated with me. I may be influenced by a father’s feelings, but I believe I can honestly state that, by education, earnest purpose in the fulfilment of duty, a high sense of integrity guiding and regulating their transactions, they will be found worthy of your confidence, and thus maintain the character of the house whose reputation and business transactions have extended to all parts of the world.” To this honest expression of well-earned business contentment, we can only add our wishes that Mr. Churchill’s years of retirement may be as happy as his years of toil have been useful and beneficial.

Among other technical publishers, Mr. Henry Laurie, whose house dates from the commencement of English hydrography, and whose numerous publications are known wherever English navigation has extended, requires at least a mention here. The oldest existing house of this nature, but one, in Europe (Gerard Hulst Van Keulen & Co., of Amsterdam, being the exception), it was founded by R. Sayer, at the “Golden Busk” (53, Fleet Street), in conjunction with John Senex, the well-known cosmographer. Here Cook’s original charts were issued; and it says something for his accuracy that his “Survey of the South Coast of Newfoundland” has not yet been superseded. On Sayer’s death, the business was relinquished to Robert Laurie and James Whittle, and, in 1812, the former was succeeded by his son, R. H. Laurie, who, on the death of Whittle, became sole proprietor. In a short time, the business extended to the production of illustrations of all descriptions, whilst the maps produced, under the care of De la Rochette, John Purdy, and Mr. Findlay, still retained their pre-eminence; the business was, however, again restricted to hydrography. R. H. Laurie died as recently as January 19, 1858, leaving two daughters, and the establishment was continued under the direction of his sole executor, Mr. Findlay.

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_EDWARD MOXON_:

POETICAL LITERATURE.

After Dodsley’s death, though poetry was at times far from being an unprofitable speculation, the publishers seem to have shunned it as a speciality; and, accordingly, a Constable, a Murray, and a Longman, though gathering large incomes from the sale of the works of some one or two great poets, placed their main reliance upon the prose compositions that administered to either the pleasure or the necessities of their public.

For a time, Taylor and Hessey almost adopted poetical publications as the mainstay of their business; and in their generous encouragement of Keats, and others of lesser note, including Clare, are to be gratefully remembered; but their trade-life as poetical publishers was brief, and it remained for Edward Moxon to identify his name with all the best poetry of the period in which he lived, to a greater extent than any previous bookseller at any time whatsoever.

Edward Moxon, not unlike some others of his craft, began life with strong literary aspirations. His warm admiration for genius, his hearty good-fellowship, and his longings for a literary career, brought him into contact with some of the greatest writers of the day, and attracted their support and friendship. As early as 1824 he was made a welcome member of the brilliant circle that owned Charles Lamb as its chief, and to be a _protégé_ of Lamb’s was a passport into all literary society. In 1826, he published his first volume, “The Prospect; and other Poems;” and his friends received it with all possible kindness, as, perhaps, containing germs of something better. Even Wordsworth, usually very niggard of praise, wrote him a letter of encouragement--and warning:--“Fix your eye upon acquiring independence by an honourable business, and let the Muse come after rather than go before.” But advice of this nature, even when given with the practical illustrations that Wordsworth’s own career might have furnished, had little likelihood of being accepted by a young and impetuous poetaster; and in 1829 we find Moxon launching another venture on the world--“Christmas, a poem”--to be as coldly received by the “general public” as the former. What, however, the advice of a veteran poet could not effect, a stronger power was able to accomplish.

During Lamb’s residence at Enfield, their acquaintance ripened into a very frequent intercourse, and eventually resulted in Moxon’s engagement to a young lady who spent most of her time under the protection of Lamb and his sister. Lamb had met Miss Isola some years before at Cambridge, and had taken so much interest in the little orphan girl, who was then living with her grandfather--an Italian refugee, and a teacher of languages--that by degrees he came to be looked upon as almost a natural guardian. Marriage, however, was out of the question until her lover had some more substantial manner of livelihood than the cultivation of the Muse seemed ever likely to afford him. In this strait, Rogers came forward and generously offered to start him in life as a publisher, and, with the goal of matrimony in view, the offer was eagerly accepted.

Accordingly, in 1830, Moxon opened a small publishing shop at 34, New Bond Street. The first volume he issued was “Charles Lamb’s Album Verses,” and the dedication sufficiently explains its purpose:--

“DEAR MOXON,--I do not know to whom a Dedication of these trifles is more properly due than to yourself: you suggested the printing of them--you were desirous of exhibiting a specimen of the _manner_ in which the publications entrusted to your future care would appear. With more propriety, perhaps, the ‘Christmas,’ or some of your own simple, unpretending compositions, might have served this purpose. But I forget--you have bid a long adieu to the Muse ... it is not for me nor you to allude in public to the kindness of our honoured friend, under whose auspices you are becoming a bookseller. May this fine-minded veteran in verse enjoy life long enough to see his patronage justified. I venture to predict that your habits of industry, and your cheerful spirit, will carry you through the world.

“ENFIELD, 1st June, 1830.”

An unfavourable notice of these “Album Verses” appeared in the _Literary Gazette_; but Lamb was too well loved to lack defenders, and some verses in reply, by Southey, were soon afterwards inserted in the _Times_.

In the following year the _Englishman’s Magazine_ came into Moxon’s hands, and to its pages Elia lent the charm of his pen. Although it only lasted from April till October, its columns still present us with matter of literary interest. In the same number we find a sonnet signed “A. Tennyson,” and a very long review upon “Poems, chiefly Lyrical, by Alfred Tennyson,” written by his friend Arthur H. Hallam. This was almost Mr. Tennyson’s first avowed appearance in public; and as Mr. Moxon’s name was so intimately associated with the poet’s future works, we may be allowed to go back for a moment. In 1827 a little duodecimo volume of 240 pages, entitled “Poems, by Two Brothers,” was published by J. and J. Jackson, Market Place, Louth; and the “two brothers” were Charles and Alfred Tennyson, the latter being only seventeen years of age. In 1829 Mr. Tennyson gained the Chancellor’s gold medal at Cambridge for a prize poem on “Timbuctoo,” his friend Hallam being also one of the competitors. The prize poem was printed with his name, and, a thing quite unprecedented, was noticed at length in the _Athenæum_, as indicating “really first-rate poetical genius, and which would have done honour to any man that ever wrote.... How many men have lived for a century who could equal this?” In the following year, 1830, appeared the “Poems, chiefly Lyrical, by Alfred Tennyson;” London: Effingham Wilson, Royal Exchange, 1830 (pp. 154); and it was these, of course, which were reviewed by Hallam in the _Englishman’s Magazine_. In the course of a very long notice, the writer says:--“The features of original genius are clearly and strongly marked. The author imitates nobody; we recognise the spirit of the age, but not the individual pen of this or that writer.... In presenting the young poet to the public as one not studious of instant popularity, and unlikely to attain it ... we have spoken in good faith, commending the volume to feeling hearts and imaginative tempers.” Even before this review, deeply interesting when we remember what a loving and loved friend he was who wrote it, the little volume was noticed in the _Westminster Review_ by, it is believed, Mr. John Stuart Mill, as demonstrating “the possession of powers, to the future direction of which we look with some anxiety. He has shown, in the lines from which we quote, his own just conception of the grandeur of a poet’s calling; and we look to him for its fulfilment.” Encouragement such as this led Moxon to publish a further volume of Mr. Tennyson’s poems in 1833, and the connection thus commenced lasted throughout his lifetime. In a letter addressed to him by Wordsworth, as a northern correspondent in the book-market, there is intelligence, neither pleasant for a veteran poet to indite, nor for a young publisher to receive:--“There does not seem to be much genuine relish for poetical publications in Cumberland, if I may judge from the fact of not a copy of my poems having been sold there by one of the leading booksellers, though Cumberland is my native county.” In this same year, too, Moxon published, for the first time, a collected edition of the “Last Essays of Elia;” but before this time he proved, by his attention to his business, that he was worthy of Miss Isola’s hand. Lamb’s letters to Moxon, in the few weeks preceding the marriage, are in his happiest, most delicately-bantering style--for instance: “For God’s sake give Emma no more watches--_one_ has turned her head. She is arrogant and insulting. She said something very unpleasant to our old clock in the passage, as if he did not keep time, and yet he had made her no appointment. She takes it out every moment to look at the minute hand. She lugs us out into the field, because there the bird-boys cry out--‘You, pray, sir, can you tell us the time?’ and she answers them punctually. She loses all her time looking to see what the time is! I heard her whispering just now--‘so many hours, minutes, &c., to Tuesday; I think St. George’s goes too slow.’... She has spoilt some of the movements. Between ourselves, she has kissed away the ‘half-past twelve,’ which I suppose to be the canonical hour in Hanover Square.” On the 30th July they were married. Lamb, as long as he lived, regarded them with almost paternal affection, and, at his death, left Moxon his treasured collection of books.

Meanwhile the illustrated edition of Rogers’s “Italy” was in preparation, and with a view to its publication Moxon moved to Dover Street, Piccadilly.

Rogers spared no cost in the production of what was intended to be the most beautifully illustrated volume that had ever been published. £10,000 was spent on the illustrations and the engraving of them. There were fifty-six engravings in all by Turner, Stothard, and other eminent artists. Turner was to have received fifty pounds apiece for his drawings, but at one time the whole speculation threatened to turn out a failure, and he then offered the bard the use of them for five pounds each instead. To match this luxurious volume the illustrated edition of Rogers’s “Poems” was brought out, at a further cost of £5000, with seventy-two engravings by Turner, Stothard, Landseer, Eastlake, &c., and, in spite of the enormous outlay on the two works, their increasing popularity must have recouped the poet, for upwards of 50,000 copies are said to have been sold before the year 1847. Moxon was always proud of the share he had taken in the production of these works. All the volumes he issued were indeed remarkable for the beautiful manner in which they were “got up,” and in 1835 he published such an exquisite edition of his own sonnets that the beauty of this dandy of a book enraged and alarmed a writer in the _Quarterly_:--“Its typographical splendours led us to fear that this style of writing was getting into fashion,” but fortunately for the reviewer’s peace of mind he discovered “that Mr. Moxon the bookseller is his own poet, and that Mr. Moxon the poet is his own bookseller.... The necessity of obtaining an imprimatur of a publisher is a very wholesome restraint, from which Mr. Moxon--unluckily for himself and for us--found himself relieved.” Surely after a notice like this--indeed we have only quoted the kindlier portion, for often as publishers din the unsaleable nature of the drug poetry into the ears of young writers, the charm of retorting upon a bookseller seldom falls so temptingly before an author.--Moxon must have regretted that he did not cleave to a promise, held out in his first essay in 1826:--

“You’ll hear no more from me, If critics prove unkind; My next in simple prose must be; Unless I favour find.”

This will perhaps suffice as a specimen of the productions of Moxon’s muse, though the first lines in the volume, a “Sonnet to a Nightingale,” are inviting. They had been the cause of much pleasantry among the author’s friends, as having been penned by one who had never heard the song of the bird to which they were addressed, and the internal evidence upon this point is indubitably strong; the sonnet perhaps, to state it in proportion, is to Keats’s “Ode to the Nightingale,” as the owl’s screeching “too-whit” to “Sweet quired Philomela.”

By this time, however, Moxon, in spite of his bad poetry, had made a wide reputation as a poetical publisher, and from his establishment was issued, not only all that was most valuable of contemporary poetical literature, but with true catholic taste, the works of our older dramatic poets, edited for the most part by the Rev. Alexander Dyce. By degrees, too, Moxon was enabled to add to his catalogue the works of many of the poets who had shed a lustre upon the two first decades of this century, especially the works of Keats, Shelley, and Leigh Hunt.

In 1839 he brought out Mrs. Shelley’s edition of her husband’s poems--the first “complete edition” that had been published. In the following year a bookseller in the Strand named Hetherington was indicted for selling a work entitled “Haslam’s Letters to the Clergy of all Denominations,” and was sentenced to four months’ imprisonment, as having published in this volume sundry “libels” against the Old Testament. While the trial was pending, Hetherington commissioned a servant of his, named Holt, to purchase copies of “Shelley’s Poems” from the publisher, and from the retail dealers, and then obtained a similar indictment against Moxon. The celebrated trial the “Queen _v._ Moxon” was of course the result. The prosecution relied chiefly upon certain passages in “Queen Mab,” more especially in the notes, and these were read in order to prove the charge of blasphemy. Mr. Serjeant Talfourd was engaged for the defence. “I am called,” he commenced, “from the bar in which I usually practise, to defend from the odious charge of blasphemy one with whom I have been acquainted for many years--one whom I have always believed incapable of wilful offence towards God or towards man--one who was introduced to me in early days, by the dearest of my friends who has gone before--by Charles Lamb--to whom the wife of the defendant was an adopted daughter.” After a magnificent oration in which he asked, with a fitting indignation, “if the publisher of any penny blasphemy is to have the right of prescribing to us legally that such and such pages are to be torn from the treasured volumes of our choicest literature,” he left in the hands of the jury “the cause of genius--the cause of learning--the cause of history--the cause of thought,” and concluded by a tribute to Moxon’s character--“beginning his career under the auspices of Rogers, the eldest of a great age of poets, and blessed with the continued support of that excellent person, who never broke by one unworthy line the charm of moral grace which pervades his works, he has been associated with Lamb, whose kindness ennobled all sects, all parties, all classes, and whose genius shed new and pleasant lights on daily life; with Southey, the pure and childlike in heart; with Coleridge, in the light of whose Christian philosophy the indicted poems would assume their true character, as mournful, yet salutary, specimens of powers developed imperfectly in this world; and with Wordsworth, whose works, so long neglected and scorned, but so long silently nurturing tastes for the lofty and the pure, it has been Mr. Moxon’s privilege to diffuse largely throughout this and other lands, and with them the sympathies which link the human heart to nature and to God, and all classes of mankind to each other.” Lord Denman, before whom the case was tried, instructed the jury, in his summing up, to administer the law as it undoubtedly stood, though he himself was of opinion that the best and most effectual method of acting in regard to such doctrines was to refute them by argument and reasoning rather than by persecution. The jury accordingly returned a verdict of guilty, unaccompanied by any observation whatsoever. The illegal passages were eliminated for a time; and thus the matter ended. The trial took place in June, 1841, at a time when Moxon was in great sorrow for the loss of his eldest son, and much sympathy was exhibited towards him.

Shelley’s name, however, was designed to be associated with further publishing vexations. In 1852, Moxon issued a volume entitled “Letters of P. B. Shelley,” with an introductory essay by Mr. Robert Browning. The usual presentation copies were sent to the papers, the “Letters” were generally noticed as being essentially characteristic, but the discretion shown in printing them was much questioned. Naturally Mr. Browning’s essay attracted a large share of attention, though consisting of but forty-four pages, for it is his only acknowledged prose work (why, by the way, has it never been reprinted?). He describes Shelley as a man “true, simple-hearted, and brave; and because what he acted corresponded to what he knew, so I call him a man of religious mind, because every audacious negative cast up by him against the Divinity was interpreted with a mood of reverence and adoration.” An early copy of the volume was sent to Mr. Tennyson, and Mr. Palgrave, who was then paying him a visit, turned over its pages until he came to a passage in a letter which he at once recognised (with a most dutiful and filial remembrance), as a portion of an article upon “Florence,” which Sir Francis Palgrave had contributed to the _Quarterly Review_. He immediately communicated with his father, who, after comparing the printed letter with the printed article, wrote to Moxon and informed him that this letter was cribbed bodily from the _Quarterly Review_. Moxon replied that the original was in Shelley’s handwriting and that it bore, moreover, the proper dated postmark. Even the experts pronounced the letters genuine, and the detectives were then set to work--the book having, of course, been immediately withdrawn from publication. The MSS., which had been bought at public auction, were traced to Mr. White, a bookseller in Pall Mall. He alleged that in 1848, two women began to bring him letters of Byron’s for sale, at first in driblets and impelled by poverty, they then offered him other letters by Shelley, and books with Byron’s autograph and MS. notes. His suspicions were aroused, he followed them home, and insisted upon seeing the real owner of the letters. This person was introduced to him as Mr. G. Byron, a son of the poet, and thus he thought the mystery satisfactorily explained. He then sold the letters relating more purely to family matters to Shelley’s relatives; Murray became the eventual purchaser of Byron’s, and Moxon of Shelley’s letters--and Murray, who only had his volume in the press, at once stopped it. The letters are now believed to have been the forgeries by G. Byron, and are indeed indexed under his name in the British Museum Catalogue. The system upon which he had obtained money for them appears to have been very extensive and well organised, and as some few were probably genuine, and others based upon a substratum of truth, the difficulty of judging those which in various ways have got into print, was extreme. Altogether, this is one of the most notable literary forgeries of modern times.

To return, however, to Moxon, we find that in 1835, conjointly with Longman, he published Wordsworth’s “Yarrow Revisited,” and shortly after this the poet transferred all his works from the Messrs. Longman, and we believe that Moxon purchased the copyrights of the past poems for the sum of one thousand pounds.

Mr. Browning’s earlier volumes, like Mr. Tennyson’s “Lyrical Poems,” had been published by Effingham Wilson, but in 1840 Moxon issued “Sordello.” This was followed by “Bells and Pomegranates,” published in numbers between 1842 and 1845, and by a “Blot in the Scutcheon,” (acted at Drury Lane in 1843), and which, though unsuccessful on the stage, was in the opinion of Charles Dickens “the finest poem of the century.” In 1848, however, Mr. Browning removed his works to the care of Messrs. Chapman and Hall.

Among the other authors whose productions were issued by Moxon somewhere at this period, and whom we cannot do more than mention, were Talfourd, Monkton Milnes (Lord Houghton), Tom Hood, Barry Cornwall (Proctor), Sheridan Knowles (who was by turn an usher, a journalist, a dramatic poet, and a dissenting minister), Quillinan (whose works Landor wittily, though unjustly, described as Quillinanities), Mr. Browning (for a brief period only), Haydn, and Dana.

Mr. Tennyson had been silent for ten years, had been maturing his talents, been mourning for the death of his friend Hallam, and probably during the whole of this time not a thousand copies of his poems had been sold. But he was already acknowledged as one of our greatest living poets by a small and ardent band of admirers, and in 1842 he was induced to break his long silence and publish an edition of his poems in two volumes, of which the second was composed entirely of new pieces, and in the first some were new, and many had been re-written. By this time his success was publicly and generally acknowledged, and fresh editions were called for in 1843, 1845, 1847, and from that date in still more rapid succession. The beauty and purity of his poems attracted royal favour, and in 1846 he received a pension from the crown, and this unfortunately gave offence to some rivals in the divine art, and Lord Lytton in the “New Timon” attacked “Schoolmiss Alfred.” To this Mr. Tennyson replied by a poem published in _Punch_ (February, 1846), which may be summed up in the two words, “Thou bandbox.” In 1843, Wordsworth, in a letter to Reed, says, “I saw Tennyson when I was in London several times. He is decidedly the first of our living poets (_sic_), and I hope will live to give the world still better things. You will be pleased to hear that he expressed, in the strongest terms, his gratitude to my writings. To this I was far from indifferent, though persuaded that he is not much in sympathy with what I should myself most value in my attempts, viz., the spirituality with which I have endeavoured to invest the material universe, and the moral relations under which I have wished to exhibit its most ordinary appearances.” Again, in 1848, Mr. Emerson, in describing a visit to Wordsworth, says, “Tennyson, he thinks, a right poetic genius, though with some affectation. He had thought an elder brother of Tennyson at first the better poet, but must now reckon Alfred the true one.”

When Wordsworth died in 1850, the laureateship was offered to Mr. Rogers, and the letter conveying the offer was written by Prince Albert. The poet, however, was now eighty-seven years of age, and he felt that his years and his wealth should prevent him from interfering with the claims of younger and poorer men, and he generously felt impelled to decline the honour, which was then conferred upon Mr. Tennyson, who received, as he says so beautifully, in reference to Wordsworth, the

“Laurel, greener from the brows Of him who uttered nothing base.”

Before this, however, the “Princess” and “In Memoriam” had appeared. For a time Mr. Tennyson was again silent, breaking his silence only by four poems contributed to the _Examiner_, and by the “Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington” (Moxon, 1852). One of the four poems in the _Examiner_, however, was “The Charge of the Light Brigade,” and of this Moxon published a quarto sheet of four pages.--“Having heard that the brave soldiers before Sebastopol, whom I am proud to call my countrymen, have a liking for my ballad on the ‘Charge of the Light Brigade’ at Balaclava, I have ordered a thousand copies of it to be printed for them.--ALFRED TENNYSON.”[26]

In 1855 appeared another poem resulting from the war--“Maud,” one of the most beautiful and least understood of all Mr. Tennyson’s compositions.

On the 3rd of June, 1858, Edward Moxon died, having, as a publisher, earned the esteem of all his clients and the gratitude of all the public. What his services to literature have been the names comprised in his catalogues bear ample witness. Truly Lamb’s dedicatory prophecy had been amply fulfilled! On his death the immediate management of the firm devolved upon Mr. J. Bertrand Payne, and under his rule the business was distinguished rather for the energy with which the already published works were pushed forward than for any encouragement held out to acknowledged genius. Mr. Payne himself undertook the superintendence of the “Moxon’s Miniature Series,” and, as soon as the “Idylls of the King” had been published, of the luxurious edition of them illustrated by that extraordinary genius, M. Gustave Doré. There was one exception to his lack of enterprise. In 1861 Mr. Pickering published the “Queen Mother” and “Rosamond,” two plays by Mr. Swinburne, then a young man of eighteen. Except in the case of a condemnatory notice in the _Athenæum_ these poems attracted little or no attention; but in 1865 “Moxon and Son” published the “Atalanta in Calydon,” which at once marked out the author as the most musical, and one of the greatest, of our living singers. It was at all events pretty generally acknowledged that for true poetic inspiration, momentary if it were, no poet of our generation could rival Mr. Swinburne. This opinion was still further strengthened by the publication of “Chastelard,” in 1866. When, however the “Poems and Ballads” appeared, they were met by such a whirlwind of abuse from critics, whose professional morality was supposed to have been shame-stricken, that the publishers explained that they were unaware of the nature of the poems they had laid before the public, and suppressed the edition before it got into circulation. As a consequence the few copies that had been sold were eagerly sought at a price of five guineas, and the volume was speedily republished in America. In this strait, Mr. J. Camden Hotten came forward, and to him Mr. Swinburne confided all his hitherto published poems, including the much-abused and also much-praised “Poems and Ballads.” His latest works, however, “The Ode to the French Republic,” and the “Songs before Sunrise,” have been issued by Mr. Ellis, who as the publisher of Mr. Morris, Mr. Swinburne, and Mr. Rossetti, bids fair to occupy the position so long and so honourably occupied by Moxon as a distinctively poetical publisher.

Before this Mr. Tennyson had removed his copyrights to the care of Mr. Strahan, and though in 1869 Mr. Arthur Moxon was admitted a member of the firm, the old glory had departed from them; and in the summer of the year 1871 the whole business was transferred to Messrs. Ward, Lock, and Tyler, and Mr. Beeton was appointed manager; the house in Dover Street was no longer retained, though Mr. Arthur Moxon’s services have been secured to superintend the business department. The first volume issued under the new régime--the “Sonnets” of Edward Moxon--is a timely tribute to the founder of the famous house. We could not, perhaps, give him higher praise than in saying that he was as good as a publisher as he was indifferent as a poet.

[Illustration]

_KELLY AND VIRTUE_:

THE “NUMBER” TRADE.

The “Number Publishers” may be looked upon as the modern pioneers of literature; their books are circulated by a peculiar method, among a peculiar public, almost entirely through the agency of their own canvassers, without the intervention of any other bookseller, and the works thus sold are scarcely known to the ordinary members of the publishing world. As the business is conducted by house to house visitation, a substratum of the public is reached which is entirely out of the stretch of the regular bookselling arm, though, when once a taste for reading has been developed, the regular bookseller cannot fail to benefit, as he will from every onward step in education and progress.

The _Canvassing Trade_ is conducted by only a few houses in London, Edinburgh, and Glasgow. In our introductory chapter we caught a glimpse of some of the earlier members, but in modern times two names--Kelly, and, in a much broader sense, Virtue--stand forward prominently, and to these two we shall address ourselves.

Thomas Kelly[27] was born at Chevening, in Kent, on the 7th of January, 1777. His father was a shepherd, who, having received a jointure of £200 with his wife, risked the capital first in a little country inn, and afterwards in leasing a small farm of about thirty acres of cold, wet land, where he led a starving, struggling life during the remainder of his days. When only twelve years old, barely able to read and write, young Kelly was taken from school, and put to the hard work of the farm, leading the team or keeping the flock, but he was not strong enough to handle the plough. The fatigue of this life, and its misery, were so vividly impressed upon his memory, that he could never be persuaded to revisit the neighbourhood in after-life; and though at the time he endeavoured to conceal his feelings from his family, the bitterness of his reflections involuntarily betrayed his wishes. He fretted in the daytime until he could not lie quietly in his bed at night, and early one morning he was discovered in a somnambulant state in the chimney of an empty bedroom, “on,” as he said, “his road to London.” After this his parents readily consented that he should try to make his way elsewhere, and a situation was obtained for him in the counting-house of a Lambeth brewer. After about three years’ service here, the business failed, and he was recommended to Alexander Hogg, bookseller of Paternoster Row. The terms of his engagement were those of an ordinary domestic servant; he was to board and lodge on the premises, and to receive ten pounds yearly, but his lodging, or, at all events, his bed, was under the shop counter.

Alexander Hogg, of 16, Paternoster Row, had been a journeyman to Cooke, and had very successfully followed the publication of “Number” books. In the trade he was looked upon as an unequalled “puffer,” and when the sale of a book began to slacken, he was wont to employ some ingenious scribe to draw up a taking title, and the work, though otherwise unaltered, was brought out in a “new edition,” as, according to a formula, the “Production of a Society of Gentlemen: the whole revised, corrected, and improved by Walter Thornton, Esq., A.M., and other gentlemen.”

Kelly’s duties were to make up parcels of books for the retail booksellers, and his zeal displayed itself even in somnambulism, and one night when in a comatose state, he actually arranged in order the eighty numbers of “Foxe’s Martyrs,” taken from as many different compartments. He spent all his leisure in study, and soon was able to read French with fluency, gaining the proper accent by attending the French Protestant church in Threadneedle Street. The good old housekeeper, at this time his only friend, was a partaker of his studies; at all events, he gave her the benefit of all the more amusing and interesting matter he came across. His activity, though it rendered the head-shopman jealous, attracted Hogg’s favourable attention, and the clever discovery of a batch of stolen works, still further strengthened the interest he felt in his serving boy. The thieves, owing to the lad’s ingenuity, were apprehended and convicted, and Kelly had to come forward as a witness. “This was my first appearance at the Old Bailey, and as I was fearful I might give incorrect evidence, I trembled over the third commandment. How could I think, while shaking in the witness-box, that I should ever be raised to act as Her Majesty’s First Commissioner at the Central Criminal Court of England!”

Half of his scanty pittance of ten pounds was sent home to aid his parents, and as his wages increased, so did this dutiful allowance. In this situation Kelly remained for twenty years and two months, and at no time did he receive more than eighty pounds per annum, and it is believed that when his stipend reached that petty maximum, he defrayed the whole of his father’s farm rent. That he was not entirely satisfied with his prospects, is evident from the fact that about ten years after he joined Hogg he accepted a clerkship in Sir Francis Baring’s office, but so necessary had he become to the establishment he was about to leave, that his late master prevailed upon him to accept board and residence in exchange for what assistance he might please to render over hours. After six weeks of this double work, poor Kelly’s health began to suffer, and it was plain that he must confine his labours to one single branch of trade. “Thomas,” said his master, sagaciously enough, though probably with a view to his own interests, “you never can be a merchant, but you _may_ be a bookseller.” This advice chimed in with his inclination, if not with his immediate prospects, and Kelly devoted himself to bookselling.

At length Hogg, falling into bad health, and desiring to be relieved from business, proposed to Kelly that he should unite in partnership with his son; but the conscientious assistant felt constrained to decline the tempting offer, by reason of the young man’s character, and resolved rather to attempt business on his own account. In 1809, therefore, he started in a little room in Paternoster Row, sub-rented from the landlord--a friendly barber. On his small front room he wrote his name, “Thomas Kelly,” and by way of advertising his change of position, he generally stood downstairs in the common doorway. To all the “Row” Hogg’s able assistant had been known simply as “Thomas,” and one old acquaintance actually asked him, “Well, Thomas, who is this Kelly that you have taken up with?”

For the first two years his operations were confined solely to the purchase and sale of miscellaneous books on a small scale, and the limited experiment proved successful. Of “Buchan’s Domestic Medicine” he bought one thousand copies in sheets at a low price, and, having prefixed a short memoir of the author, and divided them into numbers or parts, he went out himself in quest of subscribers; and a thousand copies of the “New Week’s Preparation” were treated in a like manner and with similar success. Henceforth he resolved to print at his own risk, always adopting the sectional method, and working his books, from first to last, entirely through the hands of his own agents, and the profit he found in this scheme depended almost entirely upon the happy knowledge he possessed of human character, and the cautious foresight with which he was able to select his canvassers. One of the first works he published in this manner was a large Family Bible, edited by J. Mallam, Rector of Hilton, afterwards known as “Kelly’s Family Bible.” To each of his canvassers he gave stock on credit, worth from twenty to one hundred pounds, ready money was insisted on, and this plan insured a speedy return of capital. The Bible extended to one hundred and seventy-three numbers, and the entire work cost the subscribers £5 15_s._, paid, of course, in weekly or monthly driblets; and, as 80,000 copies were soon sold, the gross receipts must have reached £460,000. Nearly half this sum, however, went in the agents’ allowances for canvassing and delivery. The paper duty alone on this one work was estimated at upwards of £20,000. To this Bible succeeded “The Life of Christ,” “Foxe’s Martyrs,” and the “History of England,” all in folio, with copper-plate embellishments; and “Hervey’s Meditations,” “Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress,” and various other popular works, in octavo.

Six months after he had left his former situation, Hogg died, and the son soon fell into difficulties, and was obliged to relinquish the business, which Kelly immediately purchased, speedily adding to it the trade of Cooke, the owner of No. 17, and thus uniting the two concerns into one.

About the year 1814 the system of printing books from stereotype plates began to be very generally adopted for large editions, and Kelly at once saw its advantages, but, of course, as in all improvements, the trade set themselves against the innovation, and he had to purchase land at Merton, and erect a foundry of his own, and then, and not till then, the printers relinquished their opposition, and the building was abandoned. It was about this time, in March, 1815, that he very nearly lost a moiety of his fortune through fire. Luckily, upon the outbreak of a fire in the neighbourhood a few days before, he had been alarmed, and had gone straightway to the office of the Phœnix Company, and paid a deposit on the insurance. Before the policy was made out, the whole of his stock was destroyed, but the Phœnix Company paid up without an hour’s delay, and, in return, he never cancelled a single policy with them until this sum had been reimbursed. How largely Kelly traded may be gathered from the fact that from one of his agents alone he often received from £4000 to £5000 per annum.

To revert for a moment to his private life; his father had died in 1810, when the bookseller was still a struggling man, but, in spite of his difficulties, he paid at once the amount of his father’s debts; and brought his mother up to Wimbledon, where she lived to see her son a wealthy and prosperous man. To his old master’s widow he generously allowed an annuity, and even aided young Hogg, who had pursued him with inveterate hatred, with the loan of £600. He never married. When little known he saved a member of the Court of Aldermen from bankruptcy by an advance of £4000, and he was always ready to lend out his money to those in trouble. But once, when asked to give his acceptance to ten or twelve thousand pounds worth of bills--in these terms, “Will you, for once in your life, do a good action, and oblige me?”--he thought himself perfectly justified in refusing, and soon after the acceptor of these bills failed. In 1823 he was elected into the Common Council of his ward; in 1825 he served as Sheriff with Mr. Alderman Crowder, on whose death he succeeded to the Alderman’s gown of Farringdon Without. He always lamented his want of a systematic education, and late in life he endeavoured, in some way, to supply the place of it by experience gathered from foreign travel.

Notwithstanding his immense issues of costly books, he exercised the most watchful prudence. “Books,” he says, “generally, printed in the ordinary way, only sell 500 or 1000 copies, and periodical publications would be ruinous. Nothing but a vast sale will prove remunerative,” and this “vast sale” he certainly effected in almost every instance. He published twelve separate issues of the Bible, and disposed of, probably, not less than 250,000 copies. The following is a list of his more important works:--“History of the French Revolution,” 20,000 copies at £4; “Hume’s England,” 5,000, at £4 18_s._; “The Gazetteer,” 4,000, at £4 10_s._; “The Oxford Encyclopædia,” 4,000 at £6 (and the £24,000 only barely covered the original outlay); “The Geography,” 30,000 at £4 4_s._; and the “Architectural Works,” 50,000, at an average of £1 13_s._ To these may be added “The Life of Christ,” of which, in folio and quarto, not fewer than 100,000 copies were distributed, at prices varying from £1 1_s._ to £2. No wonder, with figures like these (for which we are indebted to Mr. Fell’s volume), that the trade objected to this method of transacting business, but the difference was confined merely to business relations, for every one of the numerous booksellers in the Ward signed the request asking him to stand as Alderman.

In 1836 he received the highest honour to which a citizen of London can aspire, for he was elected Lord Mayor. His year of office was a memorable one, and the first entertainment of Queen Victoria occurred on the very day of his retirement from office, and thus he narrowly escaped the honour of a baronetcy, for he had the good sense to decline the requisition to stand a second time.

His appearance in his robes of office is thus described by M. Titus Perondi, a French traveller:--“The new Lord Mayor appeared in a gilded chariot, almost as grand as the King’s, drawn by six bay horses, richly caparisoned.... He does not seem to be more than sixty-two years of age, and his figure, slight as it is, is still imposing--for the flowing wig and ermine mantle, which encircled all his person, added not a little to the dignity of his presence.... A thriving bookseller, yet a perfectly honest man, and very charitable.” The last sentence is an admirable summary of his character.

The attainment of this honour terminated his commercial and public life, for after this date he relinquished, in a great degree, his business cares; but to an extreme old age he retained his faculties, and he retained also his habits of quiet and discriminating charity, doing good by stealth, and blushing to find it known. On the 20th October, 1854, he paid his last visit to his parent’s grave, and was there heard to murmur, “How very happy I am.” His failing health compelled him to visit Margate, and here, on the 7th of September, 1855, he died in a ripe old age. A letter, written just before his death, evidently betrays a lingering fondness for early childish days:--“We are surrounded by fields of fully-ripening corn--some cut, some cutting,” babbling, like Falstaff, of green fields, till the sixty years of town life were forgotten.

Thomas Kelly was one of those men of whom the London citizens are so proud--men who come to the mighty centre of commerce utterly friendless, and worse still, penniless, and whom industry, labour, and good fortune exalt to the very pinnacle of a good citizen’s fondest dreams. But he was more than a Lord Mayor--he was a true friend; he was a loving, dutiful, and tender son--qualities not always insured even by commercial success.

Mr. George Virtue was another of those men of whom, in this history, we have had not a few examples, who, beginning life without any fictitious advantages, have made success their goal, and, in attaining it, have not only amassed princely fortunes for themselves and their families, but have opened up new branches of industry, and have afforded employment to hundreds whose bread depends upon their daily labours.

His father was a native of Fogo, in Berwickshire, who first at Coldstream, and afterwards at Wooler, in Northumberland, let out for hire carts and carters to the neighbouring farmers. In the year 1793, his second son, George, was born at Coldstream, and there and at Wooler, he passed the early years of his boyhood. In 1810, his father met with an accident, which caused him to relinquish the business he had hitherto been engaged in. His eldest son, James, who had a good engagement in London, gave up his employment and hastened home, and removing with the family to Coldstream, commenced business there as a mason, taking his brother George as an apprentice.

Mrs. Somerton, their married sister, had a large house, near the Houses of Parliament, in London, which she let out, much on the plan of the club-chambers of the present day. George had come up to London, partly on business, partly on a visit to his sister, and not wishing to return to the North, he made an arrangement to remain with Mrs. Somerton.

The house was chiefly frequented by members of Parliament and men in the higher grades of life; and one of the former, who had taken a fancy to George Virtue, asked him what he would like to be. George at once replied, “A bookseller,” and his patron assisted him in stocking a shop in the neighbourhood. This was about the year 1820. At first his trade consisted entirely in the retail business, but by degrees he was able to purchase entire remainders of that distinct class of religious publications which were then sold chiefly in numbers. These he re-issued; and as he did his own canvassing, no zeal was wanting in the service, and his success was by no means indifferent. Once established, he was able to canvass for the books of other publishers; and on the 15th July, 1821, the first number of a work was published, which took the town by storm. Whether Mr. Virtue’s canvassing powers were acknowledged by the trade at this early period, or whether his peculiar class of customers was considered as most amenable to the work in question, we know not, but he was given an interest of one kind or another, either as part proprietor or as a purchaser on unusually liberal terms in the famous “Life in London; or, the Adventures of Tom and Jerry,” issued by Sherwood, Neeley, and Jones, of Paternoster Row. The book was written by Pierce Egan, afterwards the founder of _Bell’s Life_.

Works describing country sports and pastimes had proved so acceptable that it was imagined that a volume issued in numbers, setting forth the humours of town life would be equally taking. The illustrations by J. R. and George Cruikshank proved irresistible. The work was so successful that innumerable imitations appeared, one of which (“Shade of Lackington!”) was published by Jones and Co., who occupied his former place of business, the “Temple of the Muses” in Finsbury Square. There was absolutely a _furore_ for the work. Dibdin, Barryman, Farell, Douglas Jerrold, Moncrieff, and others adapted it for the stage. It was on the boards of ten theatres at one time; and at the Adelphi, where Moncrieff’s adaptation was produced, it enjoyed the then unparalleled run of three hundred nights. At last, Pierce Egan, declaring that no less than sixty-five separate publications had been derived from his work, brought forward his own characteristic version, which, however, proved a failure.

All the world bought “Tom and Jerry,” and having roared over the plates, tossed them not unnaturally aside; so that a work, which, in popularity, had been the “Pickwick” of its day, became so wonderfully scarce that when Mr. Thackeray, with whom it had been an early favourite, wanted a copy for a review he was writing upon Mr. George Cruikshank’s works, he applied at all the libraries, including the British Museum, in vain. The work was advertised for in the _Times_ with like result, and he had to depend upon his memory for his description. However, twenty years after, when he wished to make it the subject of one of the most charming of the “Roundabout Papers,” he found that it had been added to the Museum Library.

It was, however, with the contemporary popularity that Mr. Virtue was concerned, and by it his business was largely increased.

In 1831, his affairs warranted an important move to the vicinity of Paternoster Row, and about this time he married a Miss Sprent, a lady from Manchester. From his new abode the works which he at first issued were of much the same stamp as those which Messrs. Kelly, Hogg, and Cooke had previously spread abroad; but he soon struck out into a higher class of literature. His first very successful book was “A Guide to Family Devotion,” by Dr. Alexander Fletcher. The work was undertaken by Mr. Virtue, as Dr. Fletcher says, “at great expense and some hazard, during the years 1833-1834.” The volume contained 730 prayers, 730 hymns, and 730 selected passages of Scripture, suitable for Morning and Evening Service, throughout the year, and was illustrated by engravings by the best artists. The popularity it achieved was enormous: thirty editions of a thousand each were soon issued, and, as the _Times_ said, “30,000 copies of a book of Common Prayer, recommended by twenty-five distinguished ministers, cannot be dispersed throughout England without effecting some change in the minds of probably 200,000 persons.”

In America, the “Guide to Family Devotion” was as successful as at home, and upwards of one hundred ministers there sent in testimonials to its worth. By 1850, the sale is said to have exceeded 50,000 copies.

Mr. Virtue, about this time, entered into an engagement with W. Henry Bartlett, who, pencil in hand, travelled over the four quarters of the globe, making sketches, which that enterprising publisher issued in volumes, illustrated with beautiful steel engravings and descriptive letterpress. The first of these was “Switzerland,” published in 1835, in two quarto volumes. This was followed by Scotland, Palestine, the Nile, and America. Of the Switzerland, 20,000 copies were sold; and in the production of the two volumes on Scotland, upwards of one thousand persons were employed at a cost of £40,000. The number of engraved plates in these volumes amounted to a thousand.

When Mr. Virtue commenced these illustrated volumes, the Fine Art tastes of the public were in a very uneducated condition; but, selecting the best artists and employing the best engravers, he set a good example, which was speedily followed by others. In 1839, Messrs. Hodgson and Graves had started a cheap periodical devoted to Art, under the title of the _Art Union_, intended chiefly as an organ of the print trade; but it was not till the year 1849 that this publication passed into the hands of Mr. Virtue, who changed the title to the _Art Journal_, and devoted it to the development of Fine Art and Industrial Art, with illustrations on steel and wood by the first artists of the day. The _Art Journal_, it is admitted, has done more than any private venture or corporate body to disseminate true ideas of Art in England. The _Art Journal_, though among the very earliest of those periodicals in which Art was brought to the aid of Literature, still towers proudly above all. Since its foundation, the _Art Journal_ has presented the public with between eight and nine hundred steel engravings and above 30,000 engravings on wood.

No less than one hundred illustrated volumes were issued from Mr. Virtue’s establishment, and for their production it was found necessary to erect a large establishment in the City Road. Almost every engraver of any reputation in this country has been employed on one or other of Mr. Virtue’s illustrated works. Indeed, had it not been for the field of labour opened by the _Art Union_, in their yearly distribution of engravings, and for the encouragement held out by Mr. Virtue in the production of his illustrated works and the _Art Journal_, it is said that the art of line engraving would have quite died out in England; and for his services to the public, and, through them, to the profession, he is certainly entitled to be regarded as the first Art publisher of his time.

To go to a very different branch of his business, Mr. Virtue was not idle in the production of any book likely to win the favour of the public. In 1847, Dr. Cumming, then widely known as a preacher only, delivered a series of lectures at Exeter Hall upon the Apocalypse, which riveted public attention. He was urged by his friends to publish the lectures upon their completion, and said that he would be willing to do so, if he was sure that the proceeds would suffice to pay for putting up stained glass windows in his church. Mr. Virtue heard this, ascertained the value of the windows, and offered their outside cost down in hard cash in exchange for the copyright. Dr. Cumming eagerly accepted the offer, and by the “Apocalyptic Sketches” the publisher realized the handsome sum of four thousand pounds. He afterwards made the author a present of a hundred pounds, and engaged him to write a continuation, at an honorarium of five pounds per sheet of thirty-two pages, which eventually proved to be equally successful.

Many years before his death, Mr. George Virtue parted with the business to his son, Mr. James Sprent Virtue, the present head of the firm.

On the 8th December, 1868, George Virtue, senior, died in his seventy-sixth year, having earned the respect of all the hundreds to whom he afforded employment, and of the outside world; for all recognised that integrity and strict justice to his _employés_ was a main cause of his success, while his prosperity had been aided by thorough business habits and intense application to his duties.

He had been one of the representatives of the ward of Farringdon Without in the Common Council of the City of London for many years, and was held in the highest esteem by his fellow-citizens. It was in his civic capacity that he was invited by the Viceroy of Egypt, with other members of the Corporation, to pay a visit to that country, an honour which his constant attention to his public duties had fully merited in selecting him as one of the representatives of the City of London on that occasion.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

_THOMAS TEGG_:

BOOK-AUCTIONEERING AND THE “REMAINDER TRADE.”

Thomas Tegg[28] was born at Wimbledon, in Surrey, on the 4th of March, 1776. His father was a grocer, who not only was successful in business, but “wore a large wig,” was a Latin scholar, and something of a mathematician; he died, however, when his son was only five years old, and was speedily followed by his wife, and the poor little lad “found it to be a dreadful thing when sorrow first takes hold of an orphan’s heart.” For the sake of economy, he was sent to Galashiels, in Selkirkshire, where he was boarded, lodged, clothed, and educated for ten guineas per annum. This severance from all home ties was at first more than the little orphan could bear, and many a time, he tells us, did he steal off to the quiet banks of the Tweed, and cry himself to sleep in his loneliness. A scrap of paper, which had been given him before leaving home, bearing the magic word “London,” was carefully treasured in all his wanderings, and in the associations it called up, in the hopes it excited in all his wondering, childish dreams, proved a soothing solace to his troubles. His schoolmaster, too, was a kind-hearted man, who made a point of studying each boy’s individual character, and of educating each for his individual calling. Ruling by “kindness rather than by flagellation,” he frequently took his pupils for country rambles, and taught them lessons out of the great book of Nature. Nor was he wholly forgotten by his relatives, for we read that he was sent a parcel of tea--then a wonderful luxury. After much consultation as to the best method of cooking the delicacy, one-half of it was boiled in the “big pot,” the liquor strained off and the leaves served up as greens; “but,” he adds, “it was not eaten.” After staying at Galashiels for four years, he was given the choice of being apprenticed either to a saddler or a bookseller; and his fondness for books, and the desire already formed of being at some time a bookseller in the London he pictured to himself every night in his dreams, led him at once to select the latter alternative. His dominie at parting, gave him a copy of “Dr. Franklin’s Life and Essays,” a book he treasured in all times of prosperity and adversity, and kept to the day of his death.

On a cold, raw morning in September, he started on foot for Dalkeith, with only sixpence in his pocket; some friendly farmers on the road gave him a lift in their cart, and in his gratitude he confided to them his boyish hopes of being by-and-by a great book-merchant in London. At Dalkeith he was bound apprentice to Alexander Meggett, a bookseller, and “from this humble origin,” says Tegg, proudly, “I, who am now one of the chief booksellers in London, have risen.” His master, kindness itself before the indentures were signed, turned out to be “a tyrant as well as an infidel.” “Every market-day he got drunk and came home and beat the whole of us. Once I said, ‘I have done nothing to deserve a beating.’ ‘Young English rascal,’ said he, ‘you may want it when I am too busy, so I will give it to you now.’” Tegg’s fellow-apprentice had, like him, an ambition, but it was to become the first whistler in the kingdom.

Tegg’s apprenticeship had by this time become intolerable, and, as he had been latterly engaged in reading “Robinson Crusoe” and “Roderick Random,” he resolved to run away and lead an adventurous life himself. Though it was in the depth of winter, he travelled along on foot, sleeping sometimes under hedges laden with hoar-frost. But soon his little hoarding of ten shillings was exhausted; at Berwick, therefore, he tried to make a livelihood by selling chap-books, but was recognised for a runaway apprentice and had again to fly. At this period he tells us he found out the utility of pawnbrokers’ shops, and discovered, also, the value of small sums. “He who has felt the want of a penny is never likely to dissipate a pound.” Another lesson, too, he gathered from his wanderings, which was always when in trouble to apply to a woman. “Never,” he says, “did I plead to a woman in vain.” At Newcastle he made the acquaintance of Bewick, the engraver; there he might have remained, but his heart was set upon reaching London. At Sheffield he was seized by the parish officer for travelling on Sunday, but when he told his story the severity of Bumbledom itself relented, and the beadle found him a home, and even paid the requisite eighteenpence a week which defrayed the cost of lodging, bread-making, and a weekly clean shirt. Here he was engaged by Mr. Gale, the proprietor of the _Sheffield Register_, at seven shillings a week, a wretched pittance, but sufficient for his small wants, even enabling him to purchase new clothes. At the _Register_ office he met some men of note, among others, Tom Paine and Dibdin. Paine was “a tall, thin, ill-looking man. He had a fiend-like countenance, and frequently indulged in oaths and blasphemy.” After a nine months’ sojourn, Tegg left Sheffield, and having visited Ireland and North Wales, entered the service of a Mr. Marshall, at Lynn, where he remained for three or four years.

Early in 1796, however, he mounted the London and Cambridge coach, and, with a few shillings in his pockets, with a light heart in his breast, he bade good-bye to friends, telling them that he would never come back till he could drive down in his carriage.

On the coach he met some other young men, who, like himself, were going up to London in search of employment, but who intended to spend the first few days in sight-seeing, and asked him to join their party. But Tegg resisted the temptation, and when London, the London of his dreams--but how black, smoke-filled, and inhospitable!--was really reached, he alighted at the Green Dragon in Bishopsgate Street, and, struggling through the busy stream of men who filled the city streets, he went straightway in search of employment, to the first book-shop that met his eyes. This happened to be Mr. Lane’s “Minerva Library,” in Leadenhall Street. “What can you do?” asked Lane. “My best,” rejoined Tegg. “Do you wear an apron?” Tegg produced one and tied it on. “Go to work,” said Lane, and thus, “in less than half-an-hour from my arrival, I was at work in one of the best houses in London.” Early next morning, map in hand, he took an exploring walk, and was astonished and delighted with all he saw, for to the young bookseller, with his mind wrapt up entirely in his projects of success, the perpetual rush of unknown faces--that he had never seen before, would never see again--the jostling eagerness of crowds, going incessantly this way and that, the noisy din of carts and carriages, the vastness of the buildings, and the vagueness of the never-ending streets, did not bring that feeling of utter loneliness which so many of us remember in our first solitary entry into London. Nor was the country lad to be beguiled by any of the myriad temptations that were ready on all sides to divide his attention from his business. “I resolved,” he writes, “to visit a place of worship every Sunday, and to read no loose or infidel books; that I would frequent no public-houses, that I would devote my leisure to profitable studies, that I would form no friendships till I knew the parties well, and that I would not go to any theatre till my reason fortified me against my passions.” This perseverance did not immediately meet with its deserved reward, for having been sent, with the other shopmen, to make an affidavit as to the numbers of an election bill that had been struck off, before the Lord Mayor, he said boldly, that he did not even know that they had been printed; the Lord Mayor was pleased with the answer, and censured Lane severely for tempting the boy to commit a perjury; and Lane, in his rage, dismissed him forthwith. Tegg walked out of the shop, down-hearted for the moment, perhaps, but self-possessed and reliant, and entering the shop of John and Arthur Arch, at the corner of Gracechurch Street, the kindly Quakers took him at once into their employ, and here he stayed until entering into business on his own account. His new masters were strict but affectionate. He soon asks for a holiday, “We have no objection, but where art thou going, Thomas?” “To Greenwich fair, sir.” “Then we think thou hadst better not go. Thou wilt lose half a day’s wages. Thou wilt spend at least the amount of two days’ wages more, and thou wilt get into bad company.” At two, however, he was told he might go; but as soon as he reached London Bridge his heart smote him, and he returned. “Why, Thomas, is this thee? Thou art a prudent lad.” And when Saturday came, his masters added a guinea to his weekly wages as a present. From this, Tegg says, he himself learnt to be a kind though strict master, and during his fifty years of business life, he never used a harsh word to a servant, and dismissed but three.

Having received £200 from the wreck of the family prospects, Tegg took a shop, in partnership with a Mr. Dewick, in Aldersgate Street, and became a “bookmaker” as well as a bookseller; and his first book, the “Complete Confectioner,” though it contained only one hundred lines of original matter, reached a second edition. After a short time he indulged in a tour to Scotland, where he found that his old schoolmaster had died from the effects of an amputation; and in this same journey he honestly bought up the unlapsed time of his apprenticeship. On returning to London he re-entered the service of the Messrs. Arch, and took unto himself a wife. The story of his courtship is pleasantly and naïvely told. Coming down the stairs of his new lodgings, “I was met by a good-looking, fresh-coloured, sweet-countenanced country girl; and without thinking of the impropriety I ventured to wink as she passed. On looking up the stairs, I saw my fair one peeping through the balusters at me. I was soon on speaking terms with her, and told her I wanted a wife, and bade her look out for one for me; but if she failed in the search she must take the office herself. After waiting a short time, no return being made, I acted on this agreement. Young and foolish both, we were married at St. Bride’s church, April 20, 1800.... I was most happy in my choice, and cannot write in adequate terms of my dear partner, who possesses four qualities seldom found in one woman--good nature, sound sense, beauty, and prudence.”

After his marriage, he again opened a shop in St. John’s Street, Clerkenwell, and here he “wrote all night and worked all day,” while his partner was drinking himself to death. His wife was ill, two of the children died, and the future looked terribly gloomy; for a “supposed friend” prevailed upon him to discount a bill for £172 14_s._ 9_d._ out of his little capital of two hundred pounds, and the bill, of course, turned out to be utterly worthless. In this strait he acted with much energy, dissolved his partnership, called a meeting of his creditors, and found a friend who nobly came forward as a security; and he left his home, declaring he would never return until he could pay the uttermost farthing. “God,” he writes solemnly, “never forsook me. A man may lose his property and yet not be ruined; peace and pride of heart may be more than equivalents.”

Tegg now took out a country auction licence, and determined to try his fortune in the provinces.

A few words on the book-auction trade may have a passing interest here. According to Dibdin, the first book auction of which we have any record in England occurred in 1676, when Cooper, the bookseller, prefixed the following address to his catalogue:--“Reader, it hath not been usual here in England to make sale of books by way of auction, or who will give most for them; but it having been practised in other countries, to the great advantage of both buyers and sellers, it was therefore conceived (for the encouragement of learning) to publish the sale of those books in this manner of way.” The innovation was successful. Cooper established a reputation as a book-auctioneer, and in London such sales became common. In a few years we read of the practice being extended to Scotland, and to the larger towns in England, such as Leeds and York. John Dunton, with his usual versatility, took over a cargo of books to sell at Dublin, and after that date attendance at the country fairs with books to sell by auction became quite a distinct branch among the London booksellers. The leading auctioneer in Dunton’s time was Edward Millington. “He had a quick wit and a wonderful fluency of speech. There was usually as much wit in his ‘One, two, three!’ as can be met with in a modern play. ‘Where,’ said Millington, ‘is your generous flame for learning? Who but a sot or a blockhead would have money in his pocket, and starve his brains?’” At this time it appears that bids of one penny were very commonly offered and accepted. Book-auctioneering soon became a distinct trade altogether, and required not only much fluency of speech and power of persuasion, but a very exact knowledge of the science of bibliography. For this latter speciality Samuel Paterson, of King Street, Covent Garden, was

## particularly famous. Perhaps no bookseller ever lived who knew so

much about the contents of the books he sold. When, in compiling his catalogues, he met with an unknown book he would sit perusing it for hours, utterly unmindful of the time of sale, and oblivious of the efforts of his clerk to call his attention to the lateness of the time. Baker, Leigh, and Sotheby, all of York Street, Covent Garden, were also eminent in this branch of the trade; but the prince of book-auctioneers was James Christie, whose powers of persuasion were rendered doubly effective by a quiet, easy flow of conversation, and a gentle refinement of manners. At the close of the century, the booksellers’ trade sales were held at the Horn Tavern, in Doctors’ Commons, and were preceded by a luxurious dinner, when the bottle and the jest went round merrily, and the competition was heightened by wine and laughter.

Tegg, to retake the thread of our story after this digression, started with a very poor stock, consisting of shilling political pamphlets, and some thousands of the _Monthly Visitor_. At Worcester, however, he purchased a parcel of books from a clergyman for ten pounds, but when the time for payment arrived the good man refused to accept anything. At Worcester, too, it was that he held his first auction. “With a beating heart I mounted the rostrum. The room was crowded. I took £30 that first night, and in a few days a knife and fork was provided for me at many of the houses of my customers. God helps those, I thought, who help themselves.” With his wife acting as clerk, he travelled through the country, buying up the duplicates at all the gentlemen’s libraries he could hear of, and rapidly paying off his debts. This led him to return to his shop in Cheapside, but his ardent desire for advancement involved him again in difficulties. “One day I was called from the shop three times by the sheriff’s officers (a few years afterwards I paid a fine of £400 to be excused serving sheriff myself). Bailiffs are not always iron-hearted. I have met with very kind officers; some have taken my word for debt and costs, and one lent me the money to pay both” (O rare bum-bailiff! why is not thy name recorded?).

Still Tegg was making gradual way, in spite of occasional difficulties which again led him to the pawnshops, but with more precious pledges than when at Berwick he asked a rosy-cheeked Irish girl how he might best raise money on a silk handkerchief, for now his watch and spoons could accommodate him, when needful, with fifty pounds. About this time one of the most interesting episodes of his life was commenced. He had purchased a hundred pounds’ worth of books from Mr. Hunt, who, hearing of his struggles, bade him to pay for them when he pleased. Tegg, in the fulness of his gratitude, told him that should he, in his turn, ever need aid he should have it; but the wealthy bookseller smiled at the young struggler’s evident simplicity. We will tell the rest of the story in Tegg’s own words. “Thirty years after, I was in my counting-house, when Mr. Hunt, with a queer-looking companion, came in and reminded me of my promise. He was under arrest, and must go to prison unless I would be his bail. I acknowledged the obligation, but I would first take my wife’s opinion. ‘Yes, my dear, by all means help Mr. Hunt,’ was her answer. ‘He aided us in trouble; you can do no less for him.’ Next morning I found I had become his surety for thirty thousand pounds. I was sharply questioned in court as to my means, and, rubbing his hands together, Mr. Barrister remarked that Book-selling must be a fine trade, and wished he had been brought up to it. I answered, ‘The result did not depend on the trade, but on the man; for instance, if I had been a lawyer I would not have remained half this time in your situation--I would have occupied a seat with their lordships.’ There was a laugh in court, and the judge said, ‘You may stand down.’”

When success first really dawned, Tegg began to feel poignantly the want of a more complete education; however, he determined to employ the powers he possessed as best he could. His earliest publications consisted of a series of pamphlets, printed in duodecimo, with frontispieces, containing abridgments of popular works; and the series extended to two hundred, many of them circulating to the extent of 4000 copies. As an instance of his business energy, we may cite the following:--Tegg heard one morning from a friend that Nelson had been shot at Trafalgar. He set an engraver to work instantly on a portrait of the hero, purchased the _Naval Chronicle_, found ample material for a biography; and, in a few hours, “The Whole Life of Nelson” was ready for the press. Such timely assiduity was rewarded by a sale of 5000 sixpenny copies. On another occasion, when on a summer jaunt to Windsor with a friend, it was jocularly resolved that, as they had come to see the king, they ought to make his Majesty pay the expenses of the trip. Tegg suggested a Life of Mrs. Mary Anne Clarke, with a coloured portrait. 13,000 copies were sold at seven-and-sixpence each; and, as he observes, the “bill was probably liquidated.”

Among his other cheap books were--“Tegg’s Chronology,” “Philip Quail,” and--perhaps the most successful and useful of all--a diamond edition of “Johnson’s Dictionary,” published when the original edition was selling at five guineas.

In 1824 he purchased the copyright of Hone’s “Every-Day Book” and “Table Book;” republished the whole in weekly parts, and cleared a very large profit.

“I like you and your book, ingenious Hone! In whose capacious, all-embracing leaves The very marrow of traditions shown, And all that History, much that Fiction weaves.”

So sang Charles Lamb; and Southey says of these two delightful works:--“The ‘Every-Day Book’ and ‘Table Book’ will be a fortune a hundred years hence, but they have failed to make Hone’s fortunes.” However, Tegg gave him five hundred pounds to compile the “Year Book,” which proved much less successful than the others.

Hone had been a bookseller in the Strand, where he probably acquired his miscellaneous stock of quaint knowledge about old English customs, and all that appertained to a race fast dying out. After the famous trial, in which his “Parodies” were charged as being “blasphemy,” he immediately stopped the sale of them; and, though at that time in urgent need of money, he resolutely refused tempting offers for copies. “The story of my three-days’ trial at Guildhall,” he writes, “may be dug out from the journals of the period; the history of my mind, my heart, my scepticism, and my atheism remain to be written.” It is said that he was first awakened to a better way of thinking, in the following manner:--One day, walking in the country, he saw a little girl standing at a doorway, and stopped to ask her for a drink of milk; and, observing a book in her hand, he inquired what it was. She said it was a Bible; and, in reply to some depreciatory remark of his, added, in her simple wonder--“I thought everybody loved their Bible, sir!”

By this time Tegg was thriving;--he bought his first great-coat, and the first silk pelisse for his wife, and was able to make a rule of paying in cash, which he found an immense advantage. The book auctions, continued nightly at 111, Cheapside, formed the immediate stepping-stone to his wealth. He visited all the trade sales, and bought up the “remainders,” _i.e._, surplus copies of works in which the original publishers had no faith;--“I was,” he writes, “the broom that swept the booksellers’ warehouses.” At one of the dinners preceding these trade sales, he heard Alderman Cadell give the then famous toast--“The Bookseller’s four B’s”--Burns, Blair, Buchan, and Blackstone. In the auctioneer’s rostrum he was very lively and amusing, and the room became well known all over London. At one of the last sales, a gentleman who purchased a book asked if “he ever left off selling for a single night?” Fifteen years before, on his road to the dock to embark for Calcutta, he found Tegg busy, and as busy still on his return. “If ever man was devoted to his profession, I am that man,” says Tegg; and again--“I feel that my moral courage is sufficient to carry out anything I resolve to accomplish.”

Now that his own publications were proving very lucrative, Tegg resolved to abandon the auctioneering portion of the business, and confine himself to the more legitimate trade; and, at his last sale, he took upwards of eighty pounds. The purchase and sale of remainders, however, still formed a very important branch of his traffic.

About this time he took another journey to Scotland, and had an interview with Sir Walter Scott, who had, he says, “nothing in his manner or conversation to impress a visitor with his greatness.” Immediately on his return he made his final remove to the Mansion House, Cheapside--once the residence of the Lord Mayor--and the annual current of sales rose in the proportion of from eighteen to twenty-two. Now a popular as well as a wealthy man, he was elected a Common Councillor of the Ward of Cheap, took a country house at Norwood, with a beautiful garden attached--“though I scarcely knew a rose from a rhododendron”--and set up a carriage.

It was, of course, from the Mansion House that his well-known publications were dated. In 1825, the year after the purchase of the “Table Book,” he published the “London Encyclopædia;” it was a time of great financial difficulty (as we have, indeed, seen in almost all our lives of contemporary publishers); his bills were dishonoured to the extent of twenty thousand pounds; and the work was began solely to give employment to those who had been faithful in more prosperous years. The public, however, supported the undertaking, and Tegg was rewarded for his courage.

The time of the panic, in 1826, was a season of severe trial, in domestic as well as pecuniary matters; and Tegg, though he maintained that few men were ever insolvent through mere misfortune, began to fear that despondency would deprive him of his reason. And now it was that he appreciated more than ever the brave qualities of his wife, who roused and manned him again to the struggle; till, in the end, he became a gainer rather than a loser by the crisis, for the best books were then sold as almost worthless; and at Hurst and Robinson’s sale he purchased the most popular of Scott’s novels at fourpence a volume.

Among his other great “remainder” bargains we may mention the purchase of the remainder and copyright of “Murray’s Family Library” in 1834. He bought 100,000 volumes at one shilling, and reissued them at more than double the price. His greatest triumph of all was, however, the acquisition of “Valpy’s Delphin Classics,” in one hundred and sixty-two large octavo volumes, the stock amounting to nearly fifty thousand copies, the whole of which were sold off in two years.

To return to his own publications, we find that, up to the close of 1840, he had issued four thousand works on his own account, and “not more than twenty were failures.”

Tegg’s reputation as a bookseller chiefly rests upon his cheap reprints and abridgments of popular works; and, in connection with these, his name is mentioned in Mr. Carlyle’s famous petition on the Copyright Bill. Though we have failed to ascertain to what general or particular works Mr. Carlyle refers, the petition is of such curious interest to all concerned in the writing and selling of books, that we do not hesitate to quote it in extenso[29]:--

“To the honourable the Commons of England, in Parliament assembled, the Petition of Thomas Carlyle, a Writer of Books,

“Humbly sheweth,

“That your petitioner has written certain books, being incited thereto by various innocent or laudable considerations, chiefly by the thought that the said books might in the end be found to be worth something.

“That your petitioner had not the happiness to receive from Mr. Tegg, or any Publisher, Re-publisher, Printer, Book-buyer, or other the like men, or body of men, any encouragement or countenance in the writing of said books, or to discern any chance of receiving such; but wrote them by effort of his own will, and the favour of Heaven.

“That all useful labour is worthy of recompense; that all honest labour is worthy of the chance of recompense; that the giving and assuring to each man what recompense his labour has actually merited, may be said to be the business of all Legislation, Polity, Government and social arrangement whatsoever among men;--a business indispensable to attempt, impossible to accomplish accurately, difficult to accomplish without inaccuracies that become enormous, insupportable, and the Parent of Social Confusion which never altogether end.

“That your petitioner does not undertake to say what recompense in money this labour of his may deserve; whether it deserves any recompense in money, or whether money in any quantity could hire him to do the like.

“That this labour has found hitherto in money, or money’s worth, small recompense or none; but thinks that, if so, it will be at a distant time, when he, the labourer, will probably be no longer in need of money, and those dear to him will still be in need of it.

“That the law does, at least, protect all persons in selling the productions of their labour at what they can get for it, in all market-places, to all lengths of time. Much more than this the law does to many, but so much it does to all, and less than this to none.

“That your petitioner cannot discover himself to have done unlawfully in this his said labour of writing books, or to have become criminal, or to have forfeited the law’s protection thereby. Contrariwise, your petitioner believes firmly that he is innocent in said labour; that if he be found in the long-run to have written a genuine, enduring book, his merit therein, and desert towards England and English and other men will be considerable, not easily estimated in money; that, on the other hand, if his book prove false and ephemeral, he and it will be abolished and forgotten, and no harm done.

“That in this manner your petitioner plays no unfair game against the world: his stake being life itself, (for the penalty is death by starvation), and the world’s stake nothing, till it see the die thrown; so that in every case the world cannot lose.

“That in the happy and long-doubtful event of the game’s going in his favour, your petitioner submits that the small winnings thereof do belong to him or his, and that no other man has justly either part or lot in them at all, now, henceforth, or for ever.

“May it, therefore, please your Honourable House to protect him in said happy and long-doubtful event, and (by passing your Copyright Bill), forbid all Thomas Teggs, and other extraneous persons entirely unconcerned in this adventure of his, to steal from him his small winnings, for a space of sixty years, at shortest. After sixty years, unless your Honourable House provide otherwise, they may begin to steal.

“And your petitioner will ever pray. “THOMAS CARLYLE.”

Tegg did not confine his business to these cheap reprints, but issued many books which were altogether beyond the popular taste and purse, such as “Blackstone,” edited by Price; Smith’s “Wealth of Nations,” Burton’s “Anatomy of Melancholy,” Locke’s Works, (in ten volumes), Bishop Butler’s Works, and Hooker’s “Ecclesiastical Polity,” &c. Out of Dr. Adam Clarke’s “Family Bible” he is said to have made a small fortune; the work was stereotyped, and re-issue after re-issue was published.

In 1835 he was nominated Alderman of his Ward, but was not elected; in the following year he was chosen Sheriff, and paid the fine to escape serving, having resolved to forego any further civic distinctions. To the usual fine of £400 he added another hundred, and the whole went to found a “Tegg Scholarship” at the City of London School, and he still further increased the value of the gift by adding thereto a very valuable collection of books.

On 21st April, 1845, Thomas Tegg died, after a long and painful illness, brought on by over-exertion, mental and physical. His third son, Alfred Byron Tegg, a youth of twenty, then studying at Pembroke College, Oxford, was so affected by the shock of his father’s death that he died almost on receipt of the news, and was buried the same day as his father at Wimbledon--Thomas Tegg’s native village.

At the commencement of his autobiography, Tegg says, and the narrative bears the veracity of the statement upon every page:--“In sitting down to write some account of my past life, I feel as if I were occupied in making my will. I feel at a loss to express fully my emotions. I write in a grateful spirit. What I have acquired has been acquired by industry, patience, and privation,” and he adds elsewhere, “I can say in passing through life, whether rich or poor, my spirit never forsook me so as to prevent me from rallying again. I have seen and associated with all ranks and stations in society. I have lodged with beggars, and had the honour of presentation to Royalty. I have been so reduced as to plead for assistance, and, by the goodness of Providence, I have been able to render it to others.”

He was generally believed to have been the original of Twigg in Hood’s “Tylney Hall.”

From the commencement of his career, Tegg made commercial success his one aim in life; and with much patience, much endurance, and much labour, he achieved it thoroughly, and, in the achieving of it honestly, he conferred a great and lasting benefit upon the world; for the book merchant holds in his hands the power to do good, or to do evil, far beyond any other merchant whatsoever. Rising from a humble position in life, he never forgot his early friends, never left unrewarded, when possible, his early encouragers and assistants. And if he was proud in having thus been the architect of his own fortune and position, this pride surely was a less ignoble one than that which leads one-half the world to go through life exultantly, with no other self-conscious merit than having, by a simple accident, been born in wealthier circumstances than the other half.

Tegg left behind him a large family who inherited something of their father’s energy and vigour. With his friendly aid and encouragement they, many of them, went elsewhere to seek their fortunes--two to Australia and two to Dublin; and with native perseverance, with a name that was known wherever books were sold and bought, with their father’s connection to support them, and their father’s stock to fill their shops, they have not failed to reap something of their father’s success.

Thomas Tegg was succeeded in London by his son and late partner, Mr. William Tegg, and under his management the business of the house has assumed a graver and more staid appearance. In the preface to the twelfth edition of Parley’s “Tales about Animals,” Mr. William Tegg claims the authorship of the whole series published by him under the pseudonyme of “Peter Parley,”[30] a _nom de plume_, we believe, that has covered more names than any other ever adopted by English writers.

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_THOMAS NELSON_:

CHILDREN’S LITERATURE AND “BOOK-MANUFACTURING.”

Had we space--we have all the will--to be garrulous, we should infallibly have commenced this chapter by a long account of John Newberry, the celebrated publisher of children’s literature. His books were distinguished by the originality and the homeliness of their style, and were wonderfully adapted to the capacities of the little readers to whom, in one instance, at all events, “The History of Little Goody Two Shoes,” they were specially dedicated: “To all young gentlemen and ladies who are good, or intend to be good, this

## book is inscribed, by their old friend, Mr. John Newberry, in St.

Paul’s Churchyard.” Mr. John Newberry was himself, in many cases, the author of these volumes, “price 2_d._, gilt,” which he produced; but he was assisted by men who were distinguished in other walks of life, especially by Mr. Griffith Jones, editor of the _London Chronicle_, the _Daily Advertiser_, and the _Public Ledger_, and by Oliver Goldsmith, who makes Dr. Primrose, when sick and penniless at an inn, pay a hearty tribute to a traveller who had succoured him. “This person was no other than the philanthropic bookseller in St. Paul’s Churchyard, who had written so many little books for children: he called himself their friend, but he was the friend of all mankind. He was no sooner alighted but he was in haste to be gone, for he was ever on business of the utmost importance, and was at that time actually compiling materials for the history of one, Mr. Thomas Trip.” Newberry purchased the copyright of the “Traveller” for twenty guineas, and eventually offered a hundred guineas for the “Deserted Village,” which Goldsmith wished to return when he found that he was receiving payment at the rate of five shillings a line.

However historically interesting and bibliographically curious, Newberry’s business, measured in bulk, was as a molehill to a mountain when compared to the enormous trade carried on by the largest of our modern publishers of juvenile literature--perhaps, also the largest book-manufacturer in the world.

Thomas Nelson was born at Throsk, a few miles east of Stirling, in the year 1780, and was brought up in the very bosom of that strong, stern, unwavering religious faith, which has so often seemed the fitting complement to the ruggedness of the Scotch character; and which, among the other worldly advantages of its system of training, has often prepared its votaries for a successful career in business. His father led a quiet, retired life upon a small farm, not far from the famous field of Bannockburn, and was so satisfied with the content of his humble lot, that he repeatedly refused to take advantage of offered opportunities of making money, by permitting a pottery to be erected on his land. In those days, great gatherings of those known as the Covenanters took place in many parts of Scotland, at the sacramental seasons, and Nelson’s father thought but little of travelling forty miles in order that he might enjoy the privilege of the communion service. Upon the mind of the young lad, who often accompanied his father, these meetings, all probably that varied the monotony of a rustic life, made an indelible impression. When, like many youths of his time who had their own paths to clear in the world’s jungle, he resolved to leave Scotland and to seek his fortunes in the West Indies, his father accompanied him on the road to Alloa, the place of embarkation, and during the journey asked him, “Have you ever thought that in the country to which you are going, you will be far away from the means of grace?” “No, father,” replied the son, “I never thought of that; and I won’t go.” And immediately the scheme was abandoned, and they retraced their steps homewards.

When, however, he was about twenty years of age, young Nelson tore himself from the parental roof, and went to London, and after passing through all the difficulties that are so familiar to young lads who have to fight their own battles unaided, he entered the service of a publishing house--an event that determined, doubtless, the course of his after-life. One of his early associates in business was Thomas Kelly, and, like his friend, Nelson, while diligent and conscientious in his daily duties, still found time for intellectual and religious culture. With a few young Scotchmen, he established a weekly-fellowship meeting, which was held every Sunday. One of the association was employed at the dockyard, during Lord Melville’s administration at the Admiralty, and lost his situation through his refusal to work on Sundays. Lord Melville, however, who had often seen him in the dockyard, enquired the cause of his absence, and on learning the fact of his dismissal, severely rebuked the officials, and shortly afterwards advanced him to a higher post.

In the latter years of Nelson’s residence in London, he was engaged in obtaining orders for the Stratford Edition of “Henry’s Bible,” a work issued in shilling parts, to be bound up in six large folio volumes, which was held in high repute, and attained a large circulation. Nelson secured the names of a great number of subscribers, chiefly in the northern district of London.

After having thus received the necessary business training, and acquired the necessary commercial experience, Nelson determined to make a start upon his own account, and left London for Edinburgh. Here at first he rented a small apartment, which he occupied as a book-warehouse, stocked chiefly with second-hand books, and from this little establishment he issued the “Scots Worthies,” and one or two other works, in monthly parts. In a few years afterwards he removed to the well-known small shop at the corner of the West Bow. Here he commenced his cheap issues in 24mo., of such works as Baxter’s “Saints’ Rest,” Booth’s “Reign of Grace,” “Mac Ewan on the Types,” and some of Willison’s works. Indeed, we have been told, epigrammatically, that Nelson, in this little corner shop of the West Bow, commencing with a humble reprint of “The Vicar of Wakefield,” arrived in time at the more ponderous honour of “Josephus.” In his early publishing career, he and Peter Brown, another bookseller engaged in the same line of business in Edinburgh, were of considerable service to each other, for though they were not in partnership, they contributed jointly to defray the cost of composing and stereotyping a considerable number of octavo volumes, comprising the works of Paley, Leighton, Romaine, Newton, and others. Thus, half the cost of production was saved to each, while the stock of each was doubled. These books were not at first sold through the booksellers, but vacant shops were opened in the evenings in the large towns, where single copies were sold by auction, and the same practice was extended to smaller places, chiefly on the periodical recurrence of the Scotch fairs. This innovation, of course, excited a strong feeling of animosity among the trade, who, for some years, did their best to thwart the sale of Nelson’s publications. Indeed, in 1829, when Nelson, encouraged by the success of his auction sales, engaged Mr. James Macdonald to travel Scotland regularly, his mission, owing to the stigma attached to the auction business, was a failure. At Aberdeen the booksellers rose up in arms, and only one bookseller, Mr. George King, had the courage to give Macdonald an order.

Though opposed in the country, and though for many years he did not accumulate much capital, yet, from his well-known and strict integrity, Nelson never wanted funds to carry out his plans. At the very time that Macdonald was suffering defeat in each country town, Nelson was enabled to purchase from a printer, at a comparatively low price, “Macknight on the Epistles,” in four volumes, octavo; and the popularity of that work forced a quick sale throughout the trade, and gave his business a very considerable impulse.

Nelson was still convinced that the only method of extending his business to any considerable importance, was by means of a regular system of travelling, and Macdonald was succeeded by Mr. Peters, whose success was considerably greater; but it was not until Mr. William Nelson, the eldest son of the founder, took to the road, that the trade business was really consolidated, not only in Scotland, but also in London and the chief towns of the united kingdom. In fact, it may be said, that Mr. William Nelson was the real builder of the business, working upwards from a foundation that was certainly narrow and circumscribed. Mr. Thomas Nelson, the younger brother, was soon after this admitted to the firm, and undertook the energetic superintendence of the manufacturing department, and was the originator of the extensive series of school-books.

Johnson of Liverpool used to narrate that he remembered young Nelson on his first (English) journey, and that he gave him what Nelson called a “braw order.” Shortly after this he was, according to the same authority, joined by Mr. James Campbell, who left the carpenter’s bench to become a “bagman,” and was soon the chief assistant in the firm’s employ.[31]

Before this, however, the energy displayed by Mr. William Nelson had thoroughly consolidated the business, and had entirely dissipated the previous prejudice excited by the auction sales, the more especially as the lowest prices were at once fixed to the trade upon every book issued by the establishment. Mr. Campbell’s success as a commercial man was considerable, and by his subsequent energy and integrity as an agent, at home and in the colonies, the demand for Messrs. Nelson and Sons’ books began to assume a considerable magnitude.

In 1843, the firm removed their place of business to Hope Park; we shall refer to this establishment subsequently--and upon the death of Peter Brown (he had for some years ceased to co-operate actively with them), the stereotype plates which had been the joint property of both firms, became by purchase the exclusive possessions of Messrs. Nelson, and this gave them an advantage in the market they did not formerly possess.

Even while in London, Nelson had collected the works of his favourite divines for his private use, and he now carried out more thoroughly the scheme, commenced in conjunction with Peter Brown, of publishing cheap editions of such books that they might be brought within the easy reach of thousands. Such cheap issues are now a common feature of the trade, but he was one of the first Edinburgh booksellers to introduce the new order of things. The series was very popular, but still it was by the publication of juvenile literature that Nelson’s great commercial success was achieved. The works of this special, and apparently inexhaustible class were distinguished by a good moral tendency, purity of diction, and elegance of production, and were laudably free from sectarian bias, and extreme opinion. It will, perhaps, suffice our present purpose to instance, among his many authors, R. M. Ballantyne, as a favourite with his boyish, and A. L. O. E. with her girlish, readers. One of Nelson’s periodicals attained a large circulation; this was the _Family Treasury_, edited by Dr. Andrew Cameron, and numbering among its contributors such writers as Dr. Guthrie, Dr. Vaughan, Dean Trench, and Brownlow North; in its columns the charming “Chronicles of the Schönberg Cotta Family” first appeared.

Among the greatest of the more recent triumphs of the firm in the way of books for children, was the introduction of coloured illustrations upon a black background--a striking and emphatic method of throwing the coloured pictures into strong relief; the books illustrated upon this principle proved so successful that a host of imitators adopted the same method. The firm are also well known as extensive publishers of a greatly improved series of schoolbooks, of maps, embracing new and ingenious features, and of gift and prize books. Latterly, however, they have entered into a wider and more liberal field, and their current catalogue embraces works in most departments of literature.

For the last five-and-twenty years of his life, Nelson was more or less of an invalid; though from 1843 to 1850 he enjoyed a kind of respite; but during this whole period his sons were associated with him in the business, and during the latter and greater portion of it, the management devolved entirely upon them. Thomas Nelson, the founder, died on March 23rd, 1861, and showed upon his death-bed the effects of that strong piety to which, since a child, he had accustomed his mind. When it was thought proper to announce to him that his end was near, he received the intelligence with the calmest equanimity:--“I thought so; my days are wholly in God’s hands. He doeth all things well. His will be done!” and then he took up his Testament again, saying, “Now I must finish my chapter.” He was buried in the Grange Cemetery, among many Scottish worthies, and lies side by side with Hugh Miller.

Thomas Nelson was distinguished not only by his energy and strict integrity, but by a generous hospitality of the genuine Scottish type. Even when his business was of very small dimensions, his old-fashioned dining-room was generally filled by the Scottish clergy, when any general meeting brought them to the metropolis.

Messrs. William and Thomas Nelson, of course, continued the business, and we cannot, perhaps, convey a better idea of the magnitude to which the trade has in their hands extended than by giving a description of their establishment in all its branches, and for this description we are indebted chiefly to Mr. Bremner’s “Industries of Scotland.”

Taking printing, publishing, and bookbinding together, Thomas Nelson and Sons, of Hope Park, are the most extensive house in Scotland. They removed to their present establishment a quarter of a century ago, and were compelled, after a lapse of ten years, to build a new range of offices far exceeding anything of the kind in the city of Edinburgh, and probably unparalleled out of it. The main part of the building consists of three conjoined blocks, forming three sides of a square. Part of the surrounding ground is laid out as an ornamental grass-plot, and a new machine-room has been recently erected upon another portion.

In the main building there are three floors apportioned to the various branches of the trade. Machinery is used wherever it is possible, and by its aid, and by a well-organized system of division of labour, the number of books manufactured is enormous. Everything, from the compilation of a book to the lettering of its binding, is done upon the premises, and for the founts of type and the paper alone are the proprietors indebted to outside help.

The letterpress department consists of a spacious composing-room, a splendidly fitted machine-room, a press-room, and a stereotype foundry. As very large numbers of the works are issued, they are almost invariably printed from stereotype plates--a process said to have been invented by William Ged, a goldsmith in Edinburgh at the beginning of the last century; the Dutch, however, with some justice, claim the discovery for one of their countrymen, a very long time before this date; at all events, the process was still almost a novelty when, as we have seen, Kelly first utilized it in London. In the machine-room and the press-room there are nineteen machines and seventeen presses constantly at work. Here large numbers of children’s books are produced, and a number of machines are devoted to colour printing.

From the machine-room the sheets are taken to the drying-room, where they are hung up in layers upon screens, which, when filled, are run into a hot-air chamber, where the ink is thoroughly dried in six or eight hours.

The bookbinding department occupies several large rooms, and employs two-thirds of all the work-people engaged. Although machines are provided for a great variety of operations, a large amount of hand-labour is found to be indispensable. As soon as the sheets have been thoroughly dried, they are folded by young women, as the machine-folding is only suitable for the coarser kinds of work. After this process, the sheets are arranged by another staff of girls in the proper order for binding, compressed in a powerful press, and notches for the binding cords are cut by a machine. They are then passed on to the sewers, who sit upon long benches plying their deft needles.

The case-makers have by this time prepared the cases, and in connection with this department there is a cloth-dyeing and embossing branch, where the cloths are prepared; the coloured and enamelled papers for the insides are also made upon the premises. The case-makers are divided into half-a-dozen different sections, each of which performs a certain and distinct portion of the work. The pasteboard and cloth are first cut to the required size, and then one girl spreads the glue upon the cloth, a second lays the board upon its proper place, a third tucks the cloth in all round, a fourth smoothes off the work, and the covers are now taken to the embosser, who puts on the ornamental additions, and finally the books are fixed in the cases, and sent down to their warehouse, whence they are despatched to all corners of the world, principally, of course, to the London and New York branches.

The lithographic establishment comprises a number of rooms. Sixteen machines and presses are constantly engaged, principally in the production of maps, book illustrations, coloured pictures, and the beautifully-tinted lithographic views, which Messrs. Nelson were mainly instrumental in introducing to the notice of the public. Among the artists employed here in executing preliminary work are photographers, draughtsmen, steel, copper, and wood engravers, and electrotypers. By a process patented by Messrs. Nelson, in conjunction with Mr. Ramage (to whose services they owe much of the superiority of their illustrations), a drawing or print may be converted into an engraving suitable for printing from by the simple action of light, and these engravings, either for copper-plate or letter-press printing, may be multiplied and made larger or smaller at will. The storerooms are said to contain upwards of fifty thousand wood-cuts and electrotypes.

Even the inks and varnishes are manufactured upon the premises.

Messrs. Thomas Nelson and Sons employ some four hundred and fifty work-people in their establishment, about one-half of whom are young women.

The whole of Scotland is of course supplied from the head-quarters in Hope Park; but they have also large branches in London and New York. The former--situated in, or rather forming, Warwick Buildings, at the corner of Paternoster Row--is, though a branch, as large a bookselling warehouse as any in London, and in its interior arrangements is unrivalled. The basement storey is devoted to the stowage of wholesale stock and the execution of export and country orders, and over the shop there are four lofty floors.

The Scotch have during the century especially cultivated the trade of printing and bookselling. In the former branch alone, ten thousand persons are employed in Scotland, five thousand of whom are engaged in the capital. In 1860 there were in Edinburgh no less than thirty firms, who combine the united business of publishing and bookselling, besides ninety who confine themselves to bookselling alone. The eight or nine leading houses, with one exception, print themselves the books they sell; a practice which is almost indigenous to Edinburgh, or, at all events, does not obtain in London. The advantage of cheap labour, which includes, of course, cheap paper, are here so great, especially in the issue of large editions, as to more than counteract the drawback in the shape of transit cost to, and agents’ commission in, London. We have already entered into the history of several of these leading Edinburgh houses, and as our space is growing scanty, we can scarcely now do more than mention the firm of Oliver and Boyd; and though, from their long standing and importance, the career of the house would afford material for an interesting chapter, we must hope to have an opportunity of recurring to the subject at a not very distant time. Formerly Oliver and Boyd enjoyed a very large share of the Scotch country business, and occupied indeed much the same position in the northern, as is held by Simpkin, Marshall, and Co., in the southern, capital. Of later years, however, their attention has been more exclusively fixed upon the publication of educational works, and among the writers whose books have been issued by them, the names of Spalding, Reid, Morell, White, and McCulloch, are known to every schoolboy. “The Edinburgh Academy Class-Books” have also attained a very wide circulation far beyond the walls of the Edinburgh Academy; and “Oliver and Boyd’s Catechisms,” published at the low price of ninepence each, are used in nearly all elementary classes where science, in any form, is taught. As a book of reference for students of every grade, of a larger growth, _Oliver and Boyd’s Edinburgh Almanac_ is, perhaps, unrivalled for the fulness and yet conciseness of every branch of official information, at all essential to the inhabitants of Scotland.

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_SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND CO._:

COLLECTING FOR THE COUNTRY TRADE.

We have, by this time, given historico-biographical notices of publishers and booksellers, representing very various phases of the “trade;” but we have still to show how, in the economy of publishing, and through an ingenious division of labour, the smaller booksellers in town, and all the booksellers in the country and the colonies, are kept constantly supplied with books and periodicals.

Before a new book is published, the work is taken round to the larger houses in the “Row,” and other parts of London, and “subscribed,” that is the first price to the trade, and the actual selling price to the public are quoted, and orders at the former price are given, according to the purchaser’s faith in the expected popularity of the work in question.

The wholesale houses, in their turn, supply all the country, colonial, and smaller London orders, reaping, of course, a due advantage from having the volumes demanded already stowed in their warehouses.

By far the largest business in this branch of the trade is executed by the old-established firm of Simpkin, Marshall, and Company, and though they by no means confine their attention solely to the commission-paying business of middlemen--for they are themselves publishers of educational and other widely-circulating works--yet their name has long, throughout the length and breadth of the land, been held synonymous with this wholesale supply of the requirements of other houses.

The real founder of this enormous traffic was, Benjamin Crosby. The son of a Yorkshire grazier, he came to London to seek his fortunes, and was apprenticed to James Nunn, a bookseller in Great Queen Street. As soon as his indentures had expired, he obtained a situation under George Robinson--the “King of the Booksellers”--and, in a few years after this, succeeded to the business of Mr. Stalker, of Stationers’ Hall Court. Crosby was one of the first London booksellers who travelled regularly through the country, soliciting orders for the purpose of effecting sales and extending his connections. In a short time he acquired a pre-eminence as a supplier of the country houses, and also as one of the largest purchasers at trade sales, especially when publishers’ stocks were sold off. The extension of the business had been very materially assisted by the unremitting exertions of two assistants--Simpkin and Marshall--and when, in 1814, he was stricken by a sudden attack of paralysis, he made over a certain portion of his stock and the whole of his country connection to Robert Baldwin, and Cradock and Joy, he left the remainder, with the premises and the London connection, to Simpkin and Marshall. Soon after this, a second attack deprived him of his speech, and for a time of his reason, and he died in the following year, 1815.

Under Simpkin and Marshall, which was now, of course, the new title of the firm, the business soon began again to expand, for they retained most of their London connections, and following Crosby’s example, attracted the attention of many country clients, whom they not only supplied with books, but for whose publications they became the London agents--a business without speculative risk, and consequently profitable. For instance, in 1827, an unpretentious little volume--“Poems by Two Brothers,” having the modest motto, _Hæc nos novimus esse nihil_, published by J. and J. Jackson, Louth, was also stamped with the imprimatur of Simpkin and Marshall, and thus they had the signal honour of being Mr. Tennyson’s first London publishers, though very probably the honour in this case was greater than the profit.

In 1828, Simpkin retired, or rather was bought out of the business by Mr. Miles, who immediately took the financial management of the whole concern, and the firm adopted the new title of “Simpkin, Marshall and Co.” Simpkin, however, did not die until the 25th of December, 1854, and thus enjoyed a long period of peaceful superannuation.

The practice of lending their names to the works published by their country clients, though free from business venture, was not unattended by legal risk, for in 1834 they had an action brought against them for libel, which at the time attracted a very general and lively interest; though they were indicted solely as the London agents of _Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine_, in which a series of articles had appeared, reflecting on the conduct of Richmond, a man notorious as a spy, and who, as an instrument of the Government, had procured the execution of Hardie and his companion at Glasgow in the winter of 1819-20. Richmond laid the damages that his character had sustained at the absurd figure of five thousand pounds, but Mr. Serjeant Talfourd, to whom the defence was entrusted, so thoroughly exposed the antecedents and present means of livelihood of the plaintiff that before the trial was over he was absolutely fain to withdraw his action and elect to be non-suited.

In 1837 Baldwin and Cradock failed, and handed over the country connection they had derived from Crosby, to Simpkin, Marshall and Company. This occurred on the October “Magazine day” of that year; for three days and three nights the partners and their assistants never left the establishment at Stationers’ Hall Court, and Baldwin’s country clients were so pleased that they had been spared so much expected delay and annoyance that one and all resolved to keep their business in the hands of their new agents; and with this addition to their trade, the business relations of Simpkin, Marshall and Company were now infinitely beyond anything that even Crosby had before experienced.

In 1855, Richard Marshall retired from the business, and consequently, the management of the concern remained almost entirely in the hands of Mr. Miles’s two sons. Marshall died at the ripe age of seventy-five, on the 17th of November, 1863.

In 1859 the premises were rebuilt and enlarged, and every possible improvement, to save trouble and economise time, was introduced into the new establishment. Among the gentlemen who had been employed in the old warehouse was Mr. F. Laurie, a barrister-at-law, who afterwards served in the printed-book department of the British Museum, and who was widely known as the author of a “Life of Henry Fielding,” and as a frequent contributor to periodical literature. As none of the country booksellers have more than one London agent, by him they are supplied with the books and periodicals of all the London publishers, an arrangement that saves an infinity of trouble, expense and delay. A century ago, in the days of small things, the agent made himself useful to the provincial bookseller in many other ways than in the mere supplying of publications. In many cases he was expected to forward the newspapers, but other and stranger commissions often fell to his lot. A great wholesale house in London at the present day would be rather surprised to receive the following orders, which, however, all occur in a bookseller’s records late in the eighteenth century:--“1 sliding Gunter from some of the instrument makers;” “two-eighth share of lottery-tickets;” “1 oz. of Maker’s Cobalt, as advertized on the cover of the _Gentleman’s Magazine_;” or a direction “to please and send on Saturday, and pay Mr. Barratt, Parliament Place, Palace Yard, Westminster, £1 0_s._ 6_d._, King’s Rent, due 10th of October last, for the Vicarage of Holy Cross, Shrewsbury.”

We cannot, perhaps, convey a better idea of the manner in which business is conducted by these wholesale houses in the “Row,” than by giving a description of “Magazine day,”--by far the busiest time in each month. Very quiet is Paternoster Row generally, and its solitude is broken only by the fitful and fleeting appearance of publishers, their agents, and literary men--the latter, as a rule, in clerical costume, with white neckties which betray their avocation as lying in “the religious publication line of business;” while its silence is broken by some venturous barrel-organ player, or by an old blind fiddler, whose music is appreciated and encouraged by the young shop-boys, lurking behind each alley corner to enjoy the furtive pipe. But on “Magazine day” all this is changed, the street is now a struggling scene of bustle and confusion; now every house is in a thrill of agitation from the garret to the cellar, and now every business nerve is strained. Owing to the inconvenient innovation of magazine proprietors, in publishing their periodicals on different days, “Magazine day” has lost much of its pristine glory, but even now the work commences on the eve of the chief day of publication, which is known consequently as “late night,” for the assistants are generally kept busily engaged till twelve or one o’clock. By the morning’s post of this preceding day the country orders arrive, and the invoices have to be made out from the lists received. Every regular customer has his allotted pigeon-hole, into which the invoices are put as soon as copied, together with such of the books he has ordered as are on the premises; for the majority of the smaller country booksellers take advantage of their monthly parcels, and to save expense of frequent railway carriage, include also in their orders such recent books as they may require. Early in the morning, or sometimes on the night before, the magazines arrive, and it is on this morning that the real work begins, for though as large a stock of current literature is kept in each warehouse as is possible, there are still many publishers to be sent to. While the assistants are busily engaged sorting out the books, and supplying each order with the works they have in hand, the “collectors” are furnished with lists of the books required from other houses. The “collector” is by no means an unimportant person in a publisher’s establishment; though “seedy” in attire and suspicious in general appearance, he is entrusted with large sums of money, for the cheaper publications are all paid for in ready cash. Bag in hand he rushes in hot haste all over London, and with an impudent tongue and a pair of brawny shoulders, thrusts himself to the front place before each publisher’s counter. As we listen for a moment to the reply he receives as to the price of a cheap periodical, we may gain an insight into the middleman’s system of profit. “Sixes are fours and twelves are thirteens!” yells the shop-boy, the which being interpreted means that the wholesale price of the sixpenny periodical in question is fourpence, and that thirteen copies go to the dozen.

The bustle at each establishment is, of course, greatly increased by the fact that each house has to supply the wants of others, as well as to satisfy its own--all the counters of the wholesale booksellers being filled with screeching collectors, with greedily-gaping bags. Early in the afternoon, however, the collectors return, and now the books, magazines, and invoices are carried into the packing department, and such works as could not be obtained are written off as “out of print,” &c. Packing is an art not easily acquired, and necessitates the patient and skilful use of much brown paper, and, in many houses, of paper-pulp stereo-moulds, by way of stiffening. The smaller parcels are finished first, and as soon as all are ready for removal the carriers’ carts and vans arrive; all entering the Row in regular order from the Ludgate Hill end, and leaving it in the direction of Cheapside. By the time that peace and quietude are restored to the neighbourhood, some two and a half millions of volumes and periodicals (Simpkin, Marshall and Company alone having probably despatched from six to eight hundred different parcels) are flying from London to all parts of the kingdom--to be greedily devoured and depreciatingly criticised on the morrow.

Not the least profitable portion of the business done by Simpkin, Marshall and Company lies in their Colonial trade, for in this branch, in common with other houses, they insist upon ready money payments, and consequently all bad and doubtful debts are avoided.

Besides holding many valuable copyrights in educational works, and publishing to a large extent upon commission, they, as we have previously shown, are the London agents for all works published by their country clients. Nothing, perhaps, is more curious among modern “literary curiosities” than the sudden and unparalleled popularity of a small pamphlet entitled “Dame Europa’s School,” written in a style and manner not unfamiliar to us in Swift’s inimitable “Tale of a Tub;” witty, certainly, and undeniably apropos to the times, this clever skit was taken by its author, Mr. Pullen, a minor canon of Salisbury Cathedral, through the usual round of the London publishers, and, as usual with pamphlets, they one and all declined even to read the manuscript. Mr. Pullen, in despair, gave it to Mr. Brown, a bookseller of Salisbury, to publish on commission--that is, the author undertook all the risk, and the publisher charged merely a certain percentage on the sales--and limited the amount that was to be spent in advertising to two or three pounds. As Simpkin, Marshall and Company were Mr. Brown’s London agents, the metropolitan sale was entrusted to their care. Without any further trouble or expenditure, the little venture was launched, and in something like a week had created such a _furore_ that the printing had to be transferred to London, and Mr. Pullen is stated to have cleared a handsome sum from the extraordinary sale of his pamphlet, and the commissions gathered by the London and the country publishers were certainly unprecedented in connection with a little venture of this description. The London booksellers to whom it had been offered now began to bestir themselves, and in a few weeks there were no less than seven-and-thirty imitations of “Dame Europa’s School” in the field, more than one of which are said to have been written by very high dignitaries of the Church. All of these have, however, already disappeared from circulation, though it seems probable that the marvellously clever illustrations to the original “Dame Europa’s School,” by Mr. Nast, one of the few really humorous artists that America has produced, will preserve it for a time from the usual fate of ephemeral literature.

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_CHARLES EDWARD MUDIE_:

THE LENDING LIBRARY.

Leaving for a while the publishers and vendors of books, we come now to the truest disseminators of literature among those who would otherwise have formed a non-reading, non-thinking, untaught class in the community--a class who, originally at all events, were shut out from the inheritance of the precious garnerings bequeathed by long generations of writers having aught of genius, wit, or industry to leave behind--for they were debarred from all enjoyment of such heritage through their sheer inability to pay the literary legacy duty demanded by the appointed tax-gatherers, the booksellers.

In former times, of course, the very capability to read was confined to the student, and to the poor student especially were the early circulating libraries addressed. The first circulating library of which we have any authentic history--for most history is much other than authentic--was, according to Dr. Adam Clarke and other eminent antiquarians, founded at Cæsarea about the year 309 A.D., by St. Pamphilus, who united in his character the best attributes of the Christian and the philosopher. In a few years the library contained upwards of 30,000 volumes, an enormous number, considering the age at which it existed. The collection was, however, intended only for religious purposes, and the loan of the books was distinctly confined to “religiously disposed persons.” At Paris and elsewhere traces of this collection are still said to exist.

In the middle ages, the practice of lending out books, or exchanging them between monastery and monastery, was not uncommon, and by the early stationers of Paris the manuscripts were cut up into small portions (much as the present librarian’s novel requires to be divided into three volumes), to the greater profit of the lenders; but we come to very modern times before we find that circulating libraries, in the modern acceptation of the term, were established.

The first circulating library in London was founded by Wright, a bookseller of 132, Strand, about the year 1730. Franklin, writing of a time some five years previous to this, says:--“While I lodged in Little Britain, I formed an acquaintance with a bookseller of the name of Wilcox, whose shop was next door to me. _Circulating libraries were not then in use._ We agreed that for a reasonable retribution, of which I have forgotten the price, I should have free access to his library, and take what books I pleased, which I was to return when I had read them.” Among Wright’s earliest rivals were the Nobles, John Bell (the cheap publisher), Thomas Lowndes, and notably Samuel Bathoe, who died in 1768, and to whom, erroneously, the credit of the innovation has been very generally attributed. As late, however, as 1770, there were only four real circulating libraries in the capital.

The practice soon spread through the country. Shortly after Wright’s death, Hatton established a circulating library at Birmingham. In 1745, Watts introduced a circulating library into Cambridge, greatly extended afterwards by John Nicholson, known by the _sobriquet_ of “Maps,” who used to carry a sack of books to each undergraduate’s rooms, in case they felt a sudden inclination for reading something newer than Homer, Xenophon, or Euclid. By the year 1755 we find that circulating libraries had extended to the extreme north of England, for Newcastle then boasted the possession of two.

Though the custom was rapidly obtaining in town and country, the books lent out to read were generally very similar in title to those in the famous list in the “Rivals,” which caused Sir Anthony Absolute’s condemnation--“A circulating library in a town is an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge; it blossoms throughout the year. And depend on it, that they who are so fond of handling the leaves will long for the fruit at last.” We have still only to go to our little country towns and petty watering-places--few now, fortunately, still beyond the arm of “Smith” or “Mudie”--to see the circulating library in its pristine form.

At first the benefits that must inevitably accrue from the movement to the publishers as well as to the public were by no means recognized. Lackington tells us that “when the circulating libraries were first opened the booksellers were most alarmed, but experience has proved that the sale of books, so far from being diminished thereby, has been most greatly increased.”

Under the care of Hookham and Eber, these circulating libraries did undoubtedly improve, for the proprietors now began to consider the wants of students as well as the idle pleasure of loungers who thought with Gray that the acmé of human happiness consisted in lying upon a sofa reading the latest licentious novelties of Crébillon _fils_ and his genus. The movement was further accelerated by the foundation of book-clubs, the first of which is said to have sprung out of Burn’s “Bachelor’s Club.” For forty or fifty years these book-clubs did good service in the cause of education and progress, especially under the fostering care of Mr. Charles Knight and the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge; but soon an organizing genius arose who was not only to render book-clubs, save those affiliated to his own, unnecessary, but was to develop the full power of co-operation in the circulating library itself. And his advent was favoured by a wonderfully extended system of transport through the agency of the railways.

Charles Edward Mudie was born in the year 1818, in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, where his father kept a little newspaper shop, at which stationery and other articles were retailed, and where books of the fugitive fiction class could be borrowed at the usual suburban charge of a penny the volume.

[Illustration: Charles Edward Mudie, founder of Mudie’s Library.]

Mr. Mudie’s education was, as he says, “properly cared for,” and he stayed at home assisting in his father’s business until he was twenty-two years of age; and even in his early days he made it his great ambition to possess a circulating library of his own, declaring that when once he was started he would be second to none.

In the year 1840, he opened a little shop in Upper King Street, Bloomsbury, and he carried on precisely the same trade as his father did in Cheyne Walk. By degrees, however, he neglected the newspaper and general stationery business, and devoted himself more exclusively to the circulating library, which he increased at such a rapid rate that the father became alarmed at the speculative spirit of his son. In 1842, Mr. Mudie commenced his system of lending out one exchangeable volume to subscribers at the rate of a guinea per annum; and as he made the addition of every new work, immediately upon its publication, a feature in his establishment, he produced an entire revolution in the circulating library movement, and was rewarded by a rapidly increasing number of subscribers. Nor did he at this early period confine his dealings solely to circulating the books of other publishers. He was himself in some instances a publisher, and from his establishment issued the first English edition of James R. Lowell’s “Poems,” and Mr. George Dawson’s first “Orations.”

In 1852 the library had grown too large for the house in Upper King Street, and he removed his business to two houses which form part of his present establishment--the penultimate house in New Oxford Street, and the penultimate house in Museum Street; and though the corner house intervened, the two were connected by a passage. Gradually, as the business grew, the houses on either side were absorbed. In 1860 the large hall was opened, and inaugurated by a festive gathering of literary men and publishers; and the entire block of building, as it stands at present, occupies the sites of eight houses, and even now great additions are being made to the rear of the premises. As the popularity of the library increased, branch houses were opened in the city, in Birmingham and Manchester, and arrangements were made with literary institutions, provincial libraries, book-clubs, and societies.

The magnitude of the business had, however, now grown beyond the limit of individual capital, and, in 1864, Mr. Mudie found it desirable to form his library into a limited liability company. The value of the property was estimated at £100,000; of this he reserved £50,000, and the remaining £50,000 was immediately subscribed by Mr. Murray, Mr. Bentley, and other publishers; Mr. Mudie’s services being, naturally, retained at a salary of £1,000 per annum, in addition to his half interest in the business.

This change, and the increase of capital, proved in every way beneficial to the expansion of the library; and since penning this account we have received a circular announcing an enormous increase of business. From the 18th August, 1871, the Directors of Mudie’s Select Library (Limited) became possessors of the English and Foreign Library and its large connection. This library, which was originally known as “Hookham’s,” at one time possessed one of the finest collections of rare and valuable standard works in London.

On entering Mudie’s Select Library, from New Oxford Street, we pass through the show-rooms devoted to the sale of bound books; for though the directors do not enter into the usual speculations of the bookselling trade, the clean copies of popular works are put into ornamental bindings, and in this manner a very extensive business is done in works adapted for presents and prizes. Behind these show-rooms stands the Great Hall, a large room, on the wall of which 16,000 of the current works most in vogue are shelved. What most strikes us here is the great order and method that everywhere obtains. The volumes are arranged in alphabetical order, and every attendant goes straight to the required book, without hesitation or delay. For each London customer a card is reserved bearing his name, and these cards are kept, like the books, in an alphabetical system. The books taken out are entered on the card, the books brought back ticked off, and the method is found to be as successful as it certainly is simple. The longer lists of large and country subscribers are still, however, entered in the ledgers. Proceeding upstairs to the first floor, we find books, still current, but not quite so incessantly called for. On the first floor, too, we have the private offices for clerks, and the foreign department. Mudie’s collection of German works is the best of any of the London circulating libraries, and the German books are said to be much more earnestly read than the French, occasional and popular novels, of course, excepted. On the higher floors the standard catalogued works are stowed, their popularity diminishing as the altitude of their resting place increases. As soon as a book is published in a shilling or other cheap edition, it ceases to be much demanded here. For instance, Lord Lytton’s novels are in very little request. On the contrary, we were told that no sets of books are so rapidly “worn out” as the works of Charles Dickens.

The stock of books is so incessantly varying through the sale of old and the purchase of new volumes, that we were told that it was impossible to give anything like an estimate of the numbers. Some idea of the magnitude of the library may, however, be gathered from the following:--

Of the last two volumes of Macaulay’s “History of England,” 2400 copies were taken, and the public demand for them was so extraordinary that a whole shop, now the large room on the left as one enters, was devoted to their stowage and exchange. There were taken, of Dr. Livingstone’s first African Travels, 2000 copies; and of Mr. Tennyson’s “Enoch Arden,” 2500 (the largest number required of any poetical work); of Mr. Disraeli’s “Lothair” 1500 copies were at first subscribed, but it was soon found necessary to increase the number to 3000. The demand was, however, as brief as it was eager, and the monumental pile of “remainders” in Mr. Mudie’s cellar is the largest that has ever been erected there to the hydra of ephemeral admiration. About 600 copies of each of the two great reviews--the _Edinburgh_ and _Quarterly_--are required as a first instalment; but should any article prove more than usually attractive to the public, a large addition is made--this was notably the case with that number of the _Quarterly_ containing the famous article on the “Talmud;” 100 copies of the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ are required fortnightly to satisfy foreign students; and we believe that, of all novels which are likely to prove ordinarily popular, as many as 400 are at once ordered. The onus of selecting the books rests entirely in Mr. Mudie’s own hands, and it has often been objected that his decisions are somewhat arbitrary;--for instance Mr. Swinburne is tabooed, while M. Paul de Koch is made free of the establishment--that, in short, the subscribers should be considered as responsible judges of what books they do, and do not, desire to read. However, as it is, Mr. Mudie’s principles of selection are broad enough to satisfy very various classes of readers. Of course the largest class of all are the novel-devourers, and it is said that, as the coarser novels of the day are almost exclusively written by women, so it is by women that they are chiefly patronised. The large field opened to female labour in the manufacture of library fiction is worth a moment’s consideration, for the road has been cleared towards it, not by platform gatherings of stentorian amazons, but simply by the ordinary laws of supply and demand.

On analysing Mudie’s clearance catalogue for August, 1871 (and this catalogue is one of the best guides to the popular novel literature of the last few years), we find that there are 441 works of fiction written by authors under their own names, or by authors whose pseudonymes are perfectly well known. Of these 441 distinct works, 212 are written by men, and 229 by women; so that, by what seems to us a not unfair test, actually more than half the novels of the day are written by female authors. To another large class of readers (the good people who go to Mr. and Mrs. German Reed’s entertainments, and not to the theatre), the ordinary novels are _caviare_; and they require their fiction seasoned, not by sensation, but by religious precept. Scientific books, once asked for only by students, are vastly increasing in popularity; and the “fairy tales of science,” as narrated by a Huxley or a Darwin, are beginning to be as eagerly demanded as the latest productions of Miss Braddon or Mr. Wilkie Collins.

In the basement cellars, extending under the whole building, the “remainders” are stowed in huge bales, ready for sale or export. These are principally purchased by the country circulating libraries, and by shippers to the colonies and British possessions; and thus the name of Mudie--and the well-known yellow label, familiar in every English household--is carried wherever the English tongue is spoken.

About eighty assistants are employed in the central house alone, without reckoning those engaged in the city and the country branches. The system of leaving books at the subscribers’ own homes, recently introduced, is becoming more and more popular: five vans go out daily on their respective rounds, and 8000 calls are generally made in the course of the week.

Mr. Mudie’s services as a public benefactor in the cause of extended education, were some years since publicly recognized by the ratepayers of Westminster, in his election to the London School Board; and it is to be hoped that his knowledge of the practical use of the boon conferred upon the higher classes by the increased facilities of book-hiring, may lead him to urge upon his colleagues the advisability of establishing free circulating libraries for the use of those whose educational guardians they have recently become. The gift of tools is of very little moment to any one, if there is to be no occasion for their use; and in many instances it will be an absolute cruelty to teach children to read, and then to hurl them back on the atrocious literature of slum shops. At present, the fact that London is still without any pretence to a free circulating library, or indeed to an absolutely free library of any kind, is doubly disgraceful to our pachydermatous local authorities, because several provincial towns have shamed us by a good example. When the schoolmaster first began to bestir himself abroad in England, a taste for reading was encouraged, which soon spread in every direction, and by degrees a loud demand, satisfied at present only in a very limited degree, began to make itself heard for the establishment of free libraries.

In 1845, Mr. William Ewart succeeded in passing a bill through the House to encourage the establishment of museums, and, legally intended, to include also libraries. By this act the local authorities, in towns with a population exceeding 10,000, possessed the power of levying a halfpenny rate for this purpose; and the sum so raised was to be spent in providing buildings, and in paying the expenses of conservation, not of accumulation. At this time, an official inquiry shows us that Manchester, with a population of 360,000 persons, was the only town in the kingdom which possessed a perfectly free library--this was the Chetham _Endowed_ Library (said to be the oldest in Europe), which consisted of only 19,000 volumes. A further act was passed in 1850, distinctly referring to libraries, under the title of the “Public Library and Museum Act,” by the provisions of which a majority of the ratepayers, at any properly summoned meeting, can levy a halfpenny in the pound for the establishment of free libraries.

In 1852, chiefly owing to the exertions of the late Sir John Potter, the Manchester Free Library was opened, and is supported by the ratepayers. Since that time, four additional free lending libraries, with newspaper-rooms attached, have been affiliated to it. In 1869 the main library contained upwards of 84,000 volumes. A guarantee from any householder is all that is required by those wishing to partake of the benefits of the Manchester libraries.

The Liverpool Library, the best used of all these institutions, was founded chiefly through the munificence of Mr. William Brown, who, at its opening in 1860, was created a baronet. It consists of a reference and two lending libraries, and in 1867, though there were only 45,668 volumes in the reference library, the daily issue of books actually averaged 2041.

At Bebbington, a suburb of Liverpool, or, more justly, of Birkenhead, a very excellent free circulating library has been established by Mr. Meyer, the eminent goldsmith and antiquarian, and its advantages are duly appreciated by the residents for miles around.

At Birmingham there are five different libraries and reading-rooms, containing, in all, 52,269 volumes. In 1869, 300,031 volumes were borrowed by 9688 persons, of whom no fewer than 5607 were under twenty years of age.

The “lending library” at all these towns appears to be of a more popular character than the “reference library,” though both are essential.

After this short survey, it does indeed seem disgraceful to the London authorities that now, when the State is absolutely preparing its weapons to battle with Ignorance, when Education is to be made possible to all, patent to all, Mr. Mudie should be allowed, unrivalled, to supply so admirably the literary wants of the wealthy, and that the poor should be refused the cheapest and most remunerative of all boons--a free opportunity of gaining knowledge.

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_W. H. SMITH AND SON_:

RAILWAY LITERATURE.

W. H. Smith, the originator of the enormous traffic in the sale and loan of books, and in the sale of newspapers and periodicals, in connection with our extended railway system, was born on the 7th of July, 1792. As he was, from early years, intended for entirely different pursuits from that which he eventually followed, he cannot be said to have received a special business training. While still a boy, family circumstances rendered it desirable that he should take the control of a small newspaper establishment at the West End of London, and though his inclinations were decidedly opposed to a petty trade of this nature, he made duty paramount to likings or dislikings, and gave all his attention to his business. In a short time he was able to move to a larger shop in the Strand, and here he added the sale of stationery to the newspaper traffic. At that time the mails were conveyed from London by coaches leaving at night only, so that the morning papers could not be received in Liverpool or Manchester until forty-eight hours after publication. Smith now conceived the idea of forwarding the newspapers by express parcels by the coaches leaving London in the morning, and as these coaches generally left before the delivery of the morning papers, he kept a relay of swift, long-legged horses, which started as soon as the papers came to hand, and caught up the coaches where they could. By this means he actually secured the delivery of the news in the large Northern towns four-and-twenty hours in advance of the mail. For some years the returns from this business were altogether inadequate to the cost and trouble incurred, and many men would have abandoned so desperate an enterprise, but Smith had faith in the scheme, and his perseverance was rewarded by the largest newspaper business in Europe. His attention was almost entirely given to the newspaper branch of his trade, and after a time everything else gave way to it.

When railways first began to supersede coaches, Smith at once availed himself of the new facilities thus afforded in the transit of his newspapers. Up to 1848 no systematic arrangements had been made to supply passengers at the stations with either papers or books. The privilege of satisfying public requirements had not been regarded as possessing any value, and the only idea those who had the right of selling books there put into actual execution was to avoid all risk whatsoever in providing for their possible customers. The result was, of course, very far from satisfactory, and it occurred to Smith, in 1848, to tender for the exclusive right of vending books and papers on the Birmingham Railway. The general satisfaction which this innovation afforded, induced the Directors of other companies to open the way to similar arrangements, and thus the newspaper trade of W. H. Smith and Son (for he had by this time taken his son into partnership), was established at almost every station of importance in the kingdom; but the original cost of organization was enormous, and two or three years elapsed before any actual profit was realised.

Soon, of course, at the railway stalls, books as well as papers were vended, and the special requirements of passengers called into being several cheap series of light works of fiction, calculated to while away the tedium of a railway journey. By degrees, too, a circulating library was formed and extended, and, as Smith and Son possessed unparalleled advantages in the way of cheap transit of goods, and in their already-established branches, extending throughout the kingdom wherever the iron horse had previously cleared the way, they were able to supplement Mudie’s Library most efficiently.

In 1852 W. H. Smith, senior, first felt the symptoms of a diseased heart, and in 1854 he retired from business altogether, spending the remainder of his days at his country residence at Bournemouth, and here he died on the 28th of July, 1855.

Upon Mr. W. H. Smith, son of the founder, the business now devolved, and, while extending its ramifications in all directions, he found time and opportunity to embrace a career of more general utility. Elected by the householders of Westminster as a member of the House of Commons, to the exclusion of Mr. J. S. Mill, he has won the good opinions of all

## parties by the active part he has always taken in Metropolitan matters,

and by the staunchness with which he has defended the privileges of London citizens. The confidence of the public was again expressed in his favour when he was chosen a member of the School Board for London. It is understood that of late years a great part of the management of the business establishment has devolved upon Mr. Lethbridge, the junior member of the firm.

As we have already, in our chapter on Mr. Mudie, devoted ourselves especially to the circulating library, we will endeavour here to give only a short account of the newspaper business of W. H. Smith and Son.

If we walk down the Strand at four o’clock in the morning, we find the whole street deserted and dull until we reach a row of red carts, bearing the name of the firm. When, however, we enter the establishment by which they are waiting, all is business and bustle. The interior of the large building is, in shape, not unlike a bee-hive; the ground-floor forms, as it were, the pit, and the two galleries the boxes, of a theatre. In these galleries nearly two hundred men and boys are already busy folding papers.

At five o’clock the “dailies” begin to arrive, and the advent of the _Times_ is hailed with a consternation of enthusiasm. The huge bundles are fiercely attacked, and folded off in a shorter time than one could imagine possible; and then the _Telegraph_, _Daily News_, and _Standard_ are assaulted. As soon as the folding has been partially completed, a portion of the assistants are told off to make the proper assortment for each country place, and each packer has now a boy to wait upon him, who shouts out his individual wants.

At the door the carts are waiting ready to drive off with the parcels to the different railway termini, and by about a quarter to six all the first trains out of London are supplied, and in less than two hours the whole kingdom has been fed with morning newspapers, including between 20,000 and 30,000 copies of the _Times_.

This scene occurs every week-day morning, but on Friday afternoon, on the arrival of the weekly papers, the bustle of business is even greater, and the parcels (those for the post only) are removed by fourteen vans sent from the General Post Office.

In connection with the “Railway Libraries,” it may be interesting to learn something of the publisher who has identified them with his business. Mr. George Routledge is a native of Cumberland--a county, perhaps, as much as any other, famous for the commercial success of its natives--who, after serving his apprenticeship at Carlisle, came up to London, and obtained employment in the house of Baldwin and Craddock. Soon, however, he opened a little shop of his own in Ryder’s Court, Leicester Square, for the sale of cheap and second-hand books. Here, however, at first he had much spare time on his hands, and he managed to procure a subordinate position in the Tithe Office. The work was not heavy, and the extra salary enabled him to increase his legitimate business. During the holiday time granted him by the Office, he made two or three journeys of exploration into the country, and found that a wide field existed there for a venturous and indomitable bookseller. Accordingly, he set to work to buy remainders, and having by degrees established agencies in the country, the young and almost unknown bookseller of Ryder’s Court was able to compete in the auction-rooms, and generally with success, against Mr. Bohn and other influential members of the trade--much to their astonishment, and not a little to their consternation. It was now time to give up the aid of the Tithe Office, and in 1845 Mr. Routledge moved to larger premises in Soho Square, and in 1848 Mr. William Warne, his brother-in-law, and for long his assistant, was admitted into partnership, being joined by Mr. F. Warne, three years later, when the firm moved again to Farringdon Street.

While at Soho Square, the publications of Messrs. Routledge and Warne had consisted chiefly of reprints, and here the remainder trade had been vastly extended, but now they began to enter into direct dealings with noted authors on a scale that fully equalled the transactions of the first publishing firms. Perhaps the boldest of their early ventures was the offer of £20,000 to Sir E. Bulwer Lytton for the right of issuing a cheap series of his works for the term of ten years, from 1853-1863. In spite of the enormous outlay they were very willing, on the expiry of the time, to take a fresh lease of the popular volumes; so that an offer originally deemed by the trade to be Quixotic, if not ruinous, must have reaped the success that its liberality and boldness deserved; and by their association with Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, a great _prestige_ was at once acquired. Similar arrangements were made with other distinguished novelists, nearly all of whom we have met before in our previous article on Colburn--Mr. G. P. R. James, Mr. Disraeli, Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, and Mr. Howard Russell; while these successful re-issues were quickly followed by the publication of original works by Mayne Reed, Grant, and others, and by the first English edition of many of Prescott’s and Longfellow’s productions.

The various popular series known as the “Railway Library,” the “Popular Library,” &c., comprising many hundred volumes of standard works, afforded the chief business at Smith’s bookstalls, and were, through Mr. Routledge’s complete network of agents and connections, scattered broadcast over the country. Among the first books they brought out at a shilling were the works of Fenimore Cooper, Captain Marryat, Washington Irving, and Mrs. Stowe. Of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” half-a-million copies are said to have been sold. Of Russell’s “Narrative of the Crimean War,” 20,000; of Soyer’s “Shilling Cookery,” 250,000; and of “Rarey on Horse Training,” 150,000 copies were disposed of in a very few weeks. As an example of the energy and enterprise of the firm, it is stated that when the copy of “Queechy” was received upon one Monday morning, it was at once placed in the printer’s hands; on Thursday the sheets were at the binder’s, and on the Monday following 20,000 copies had been disposed of to the trade.

Besides these cheap works, Mr. Routledge has issued a multitude of more expensive volumes, illustrated by the best artists, and “got up” in the most luxurious styles. Among these it will be enough here to mention his numerous Shakespeares, Wood’s “Natural History” and Wood’s “Natural History of Man,” and Routledge’s “English Poets.” How extensive the Fine Art business of the firm must have been may be gathered from the fact that before 1855 they had paid one engraving house--the Messrs. Dalziel Brothers--upwards of £50,000.

In 1854, Mr. Routledge established a branch house at New York, and in 1865, Mr. F. Warne--his brother had previously died--on the termination of the partnership, established a fresh business in Bedford Street, Covent Garden. With his two sons--Mr. Robert and Mr. Edmund Routledge--the founder now carries on the business at Broadway, Ludgate Hill, having removed thither when the railway improvements took place in Farringdon Street.

NOTE.--For these statistics and much of our sketch we are indebted to a writer in the _Bookseller_, who “obtained the information from trustworthy sources.”

[Illustration]

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_PROVINCIAL BOOKSELLERS._

_York_: _Gent and Burdekin._

_Newcastle_: _Goading, Bryson, Bewick, and Charnley._

_Glasgow_: _Fowlis and Collins._

_Liverpool_: _Johnson._

_Dublin_: _Duffy._

_Derby_: _Mozley, Richardson, and Bemrose._

_Manchester_: _Harrop, Barker, Timperley, and the Heywoods._

_Birmingham_: _Hutton, Baskerville, and “The Educational Trading Co.”_

_Exeter_: _Brice._

_Bristol_: _Cottle._

In this short chapter on provincial bookselling, we shall be necessarily obliged to confine our notice to those representatives of the trade in the larger country towns who were characteristically as well as bibliopolically famous--who, with their native talent, determination, and endurance, would have succeeded in any walk of life, had they not, fortunately for the interest of our history, embraced the profession of bookselling.

In old days, York was the natural capital of the North of England; a position acquired, of course, in times of ecclesiastical supremacy, but still retained for centuries after the Reformation. When the cost and difficulty of transit were great, the country folk looked to their own capital cities to supply them with literary food, and the annals of bookselling at York go back to nearly as ancient a date as those of London; and, indeed, Thomas Gent, whom we select as our representative of the York booksellers, might have figured in the earlier portion of our introductory chapter, had he not been reserved for a more fitting place here.

Thomas Gent, though of a Staffordshire family, was born in Dublin, and was apprenticed by his parents, poor though industrious people, to a printer in that city. In 1710, after three years’ brutal treatment from his employers, he ran away to London, where, as he was not a freeman of the city, he lived upon what he calls “smouting work” for four years, and then accepted a situation with Mr. White of York, who, as a reward for printing the Prince of Orange’s declaration when all the London printers were afraid, had been created King’s printer for York and five other counties. White must have enjoyed plenty of business, there being few printers out of London at that time--“None,” says Gent, “I am sure at Chester, Liverpool, Whitehaven, Preston, Manchester, Kendal, and Leeds.” When Gent, terminating his long walk from London, arrived at York, the door was opened by “Mistress White’s head maiden, who is now my dear spouse,” but he had to wait nearly as long a time as Jacob served for Rachel before he could claim “my dearest.”

Gent was as happy in York as he could well be, was earning money and respected by all, when his parents bade him come back to Dublin, and what made his departure grievous?--“I scarce knew, however, through respect of Mrs. Alice Guy.... Indeed I was not very forward in love or desire of matrimony till I knew the world better, and consequently should be more able to provide such a handsome maintenance as I confess I had ambition enough to desire.... However, I told her (because my irresolution should not anticipate her advancement) that I should respect her as one of the dearest of friends; and receiving a little dog from her, as a companion on the road, I had the honour to be accompanied as far as Bramham Moor by my rival” (his master’s grandson).

At Dublin he was soon threatened with seizure for having broken his apprenticeship, and though his friends offered to buy his freedom, he had received a letter from his dearest at York, saying he was expected there, and he could not resist the opportunity of meeting her again. His friends were much concerned at parting with him so soon, “but my unlucky whelp that had torn my new hat to pieces seemed no wise affected by my taking boat; so I let the rascal stay with my dear parents, who were fond of him for my sake, as he was of them for his own.”

After a stay of a few months at York, he came to London, resolved to scrape and save money enough to warrant him offering a home to “Mrs. Alice Guy,” and in 1817 he became free of the City of London, and set to work in grim earnest, “many times from five in the morning till twelve at night, and frequently without food from breakfast till five or six in the evening, through hurry with hawkers;” for at times he was in a ballad-house, now toiling at case, now writing “last words and confessions,” now reporting sermons “for a crown piece and a pair of breeches”--(profitable penny-a-lining that!)--again printing treasonable papers, for which he was seized by the authorities; and pirating and abridging “Robinson Crusoe,” the first part of which appeared in 1717, for which greater crime he went scot free. Occasionally he went home, but scarcely found it worth his while to stay in Dublin, and his parents’ “melting tears caused mine to flow, and bedewed my pillow every night after that I lodged with them. ‘What, Tommy,’ my mother would sometimes say, ‘this English damsel of yours, I suppose, is the chiefest reason why you slight us and your native country! Well,’ added she, ‘the ways of Providence are unsearchable.’”

Gent, however, “provident overmuch,” made the heart of his English damsel sick with hope deferred--and “yet” he writes, “I could not well help it. I had a little money, it is very true, but no certain home wherein to invite her. I knew she was well fixed; and it pierced me to the very heart to think if through any miscarriage or misfortune I should alter her condition for the worse instead of the better. Upon this account my letters to her at this time were not so amorously obliging as they ought to have been from a sincere lover; by which she had reason, however she might have been mistaken, to think that I had failed in my part of those tender engagements which had passed between us.”

After serving some time with Watts, Tonson’s printing partner, and also with Henry Woodfall, founder of a long line of famous printers, he purchased a quantity of old type from Mist, the proprietor of the well-known journal, and just as he was conning over his matrimonial prospects, “one Sunday morning as my shoes were japanning by a little boy at the end of the lane, there came Mr. John Hoyle. ‘Mr. Gent,’ said he, ‘I have been at York to see my parents, and am but just as it were returned to London. I am heartily glad to see you, but sorry to tell you that you have lost your old sweetheart; for I assure you that she is really married to your rival, Mr. Bourne.’ I was so thunderstruck that I could scarcely return an answer.”

In this grief he betook himself to the Muse, and as he had formerly earned the title of the Bellman’s Poet, he indicted the “Forsaken Lover’s Letter to his Former Sweetheart,” to a tune “much in request, and proper for the flute;” and not caring that his master should know of his great disappointment, he gave the copy to Mr. Dodd, “who, printing the same, sold thousands of them, for which he offered me a price; but as it was on my own proper concern, I scorned to accept of anything except a glass of comfort or so.” “Proper concerns” in the shape of heartaches, disappointments, and miseries, have been traded in to better purpose by less modest singers, but Gent’s mental anguish seems sincere; he “was then worn down to a shadow,” and weary of his endless and now purposeless struggle. Work, however, a palliative if not a cure, was again eagerly resorted to, and Gent found employment first with Mr. Samuel Richardson, and afterwards, and more permanently, with Mrs. Dodd. Here he continued till on another “Sunday morning Mr. Philip Wood, a quondam partner of Mr. Midwinter’s, entering my chambers--‘Tommy,’ said he, ‘all these fine material of yours must be moved to York,’ at which, wondering, ‘What mean you?’ said I. ‘Ay,’ said he,’ ‘and you must go to, without it’s your own fault; for your first sweetheart is now at liberty, and left in good circumstances by her dear spouse, deceased but of late.’ ‘I pray heaven,’ answered I, ‘that his precious soul may be happy; and for aught I know it may be as you say, for indeed I think I may not trifle with a widow, as I have formerly done with a maid.’” So he paid forthwith his coach fare down to York, and found his dearest much altered, for he had not seen her these ten years. There was no need of new courtship, “but decency suspended the ceremony of marriage for some time, till my dearest, considering the ill-consequence of delay in her business, as well as the former ties of love that passed innocently between us, by word and writing, gave full consent to have the nuptials celebrated.”

But, alas! when he became a master instead of a servant, and she a mistress instead of a maid, he found her “temper much altered from that sweet natural softness and most tender affection that rendered her so amiable to me while I was more juvenile and she a widow. My dear’s uncle, White, as he calls himself, who, as the only printer in Newcastle, had heaped up riches,” was angry that he had not been chosen to manage his niece’s shop, and actually came to York to found a rival establishment. Gent started a paper, and, though he persevered in its publication for many years, he was at length out-rivalled by White. In the publication of books he was much more successful. In 1726 he printed some books “learnedly translated into English by John Clarke, a schoolmaster in Hull,” as well as two editions of Erasmus. But the works by which he acquired most money and reputation were written as well as published by himself--“The Famous History of the City of York,” “History of the Loyal Town of Ripon,” and the “History of the Royal and Beautiful Town of Kingstown-upon-Hill.” At this time his business is thus described by a card still existing:--“Within his well-contrived office aforesaid printing is performed in a curious and judicious manner, having sets of fine characters for the Greek, Latin, English, Mathematics, &c. He sells the histories of Rome, France, England, particularly of this ancient City, Aynsty, and extensive County, in five volumes; likewise a book of the holy life of St. Winnifred, and her wonderful Cambrian fountain. He has stimulated an ingenious founder to cast such musical types, for the common press, as never yet were exhibited; and has prepared a new edition of his York History against the time when the few remaining copies of that first and large impression are disposed off.” He died, however, at York in 1778, in his eighty-seventh year, in somewhat reduced circumstances, solely, he alleges, through the animosity of his uncle White. The manuscript of his interesting autobiography was discovered casually in Ireland, and was published only in 1832. From its quaintness and simplicity, above all from its minuteness of detail, it is evident enough where the abridger of “Robinson Crusoe” borrowed his manner and style; and the reader will probably not quarrel with us for having given as much of the narrative as possible in the author’s own words.

Chief among the more recent York booksellers was Richard Burdekin, who died only twelve years since. In his younger days he was a traveller to the local firm of Wilson & Sons, who at the beginning of the century were well known as publishers of the works of Lindley Murray, which are said at that time to have achieved an annual sale of 100,000 copies. What Burdekin’s efforts in his masters’ service were, we can gather from the fact that he rode his favourite horse 30,000 miles in search of orders, which in a short time doubled the receipts of his employers. Soon he joined Spence in an old-established business, and eventually became senior partner of the firm. His trade extended to forty miles round York, and for fifty-five years he continued to sell, and in a lesser degree to publish, such books as might suit the inhabitants of the three ridings.

We have seen that Gent describes his dear’s uncle White as having heaped up riches as the only Newcastle printer. He could, however, scarcely have been the only printer there, for we find that even when Charles I. made Newcastle his headquarters he brought with him Robert Barker, who had, as we have elsewhere noticed, enjoyed certain patents under the two preceding monarchs. If there were no previous printers at Newcastle in Barker’s time, one, at least, must have started very shortly afterwards, for in 1656 we find the death of “James Chantler, bookseller,” recorded, and in those times the booksellers were mainly supplied from local sources.

From Chantler’s time we find that books and stationery were the staple commodities of Tyne Bridge, and for nearly a couple of centuries the “brigg” has been a favourite resort of the trade. We find the names of Randell, Maplisden, Linn, and Akenhead occurring in the list of the Newcastle Stationers’ Company; and at the close of 1746 John Goading printed the first number of the _Newcastle General Magazine_. “For too long,” said the preface, “had the northern climes been deprived of a repository of learning; too long had those geniuses that now began to shine been consealed in darkness for want of a proper channel to convey their productions into light;” but in 1760 the northern geniuses were again “consealed in darkness,” for the magazine came to an end. Four years later, however, Thomas Slack founded the _Newcastle Chronicle_, which has gone on continuously to the present day, being now one of the very best daily papers out of London. To its columns we are indebted for much of the preceding.

Goading had continued his general publishing business with some energy, and in 1751 he issued Blenerhasset’s “History of England”--from the landing of the Phœnicians to the death of George I.--and in his list of subscribers we find no less than eight Newcastle booksellers, one of whom was Martin Bryson, the friend and correspondent of Allan Ramsay, the Scotch poet and Edinburgh bookseller, who addressed a letter to him in rhyme--

“To Martin Bryson, on Tyne Brigg, An upright, downright, honest Whig.”

Bryson’s name occurs on a title-page as early as 1722. His house and stock were destroyed by the great Newcastle fire of 1750, and after this occurrence he took, William Charnley, the son of a Penrith haberdasher and one of his many apprentices, into partnership.

To diverge for a moment from this pedigree of bibliopoles, we come to by far the greatest name connected in any way with the production of books at Newcastle--that, of course, of Thomas Bewick; and though his life belongs more properly to the history of engraving, for many years the books that were illustrated by his pencil gave the northern town such a world-wide reputation that we feel justified in devoting a page or two to his memory.

Thomas Bewick was born at Cherryburn, twelve miles to the west of Newcastle, in 1753, receiving a limited, but as far as it went a thorough education; his genius displayed itself in early childish days by such chalk drawings on barn-walls and stable-doors as have almost invariably discovered the bent of youthful artistic genius. At the age of fifteen he was apprenticed to Mr. Beilby, of Newcastle, an engraver in copper-plate, and though Beilby’s business lay rather in the production of brass door-plates, and the emblazoning of spoons and watches, than in Fine Art illustrations, the master soon appreciated and encouraged his pupil’s wonderful talents. During the period of his apprenticeship, young Bewick paid only ninepence a week for his lodging, and brought back a coarse brown loaf in every weekly visit to his home at Cherryburn. As soon as his term of seven years had expired, he still continued in Beilby’s service, but devoted himself henceforth to wood-engraving. Shortly afterwards he received a premium from the Society of Arts for a woodcut of the “Huntsman and the Old Hound,” and this induced him in the following year to go to London in quest of labour and fortune, but he found the metropolis so little to his liking that he writes home: “I would rather be herding sheep on Mickley Bank-top than remain in London, although for doing so I was to be made the premier of England.” With his distaste for town life and his strong love for the country--for its scenery changing with every season, for its living forms of animal and plant life, for all, in short, that incessantly appealed to a wonderful artistic instinct, Bewick was easily persuaded by his old master, Beilby, to return to Newcastle, and enter into partnership with him--his brother John becoming their joint apprentice. The publication of the illustrations to “Gay’s Fables,” and the “Select Fables,” by the brothers, spread their reputation far and wide, and placed them far above competition in the art. In 1785, Thomas Bewick began the cuts for his “History of Quadrupeds,” though the work was not completed and published until 1790. The “text,” or literary matter, was contributed by his partner, Beilby, but it was of course on account of the illustrations that three large editions were called for within three years. In this successful venture, the two partners were associated with a printer of the name of Hodgson, and unfortunately, after his death, the arrangement was made the grounds of dispute by his widow, and Bewick was compelled to remove the printing of the work to another establishment. In 1797 appeared the first volume of the “History of British Birds,” and almost immediately afterwards, Beilby retired from the partnership, leaving Bewick to produce and compile the work alone. The tail-pieces in the first edition of the Birds are considered Bewick’s _chefs d’œuvres_--as Professor Wilson says, “There is a moral in every tail-piece--a sermon in every vignette.... His books lie on our parlour, bed-room, dining-room, drawing-room and study tables, and are never out of place or time. Happy old man! The delight of childhood, manhood, decaying age!” After founding a famous school for wood-engravers at Newcastle--William Harvey was among his pupils--Bewick died in 1828, leaving the business to his son, Mr. R. E. Bewick.

Charnley left Bryson in 1755, and started a circulating library of 2000 volumes, the subscription being twelve shillings a year, and though this method of disseminating books had only been practised in London within the previous twenty years, we find that one Barba, who dabbled likewise in prints and tea, had already been for some years in the field. When Bryson died, Charnley succeeded to his business on the bridge, and after having been washed out by an overflow of the river, he removed to safer premises in the Great Market in 1777. Charnley died in 1803. An anecdote connected with him is still gleefully told by the Newcastle pitmen, and is worth repeating. He was deaf and obliged to use an ear-trumpet; and on being accosted by a collier, he clapped, as usual, his instrument to his ear, in order to catch the words. “Nay, man,” cried the pitman, not to be imposed upon; “thou’s not gaun to mak me believe thou can play that trumpet wi’ thy lug!”

Emerson Charnley succeeded his father, and was styled by Dibdin “the veteran emperor of Northumbrian booksellers;” till 1860 this old established business remained in the family, when it became the property of Mr. William Dodd, for many years its manager.

We have already referred so often to the Scotch publishers, that we can only find room for Glasgow as representing the Scotch provincial trade. Printing was introduced there in the year 1630 by George Anderson, who was succeeded in 1661 by Robert Saunders, and the whole printing business of the West of Scotland (except one newspaper) was carried on by Saunders and his son until 1730, when the art was further improved by R. Uric. Five years later it appears from Morrison’s “Dictionary of Decisions of the Court of Sessions” that a new comer “was debarred from any concern in bookselling within the city of Glasgow, because the place was judged too narrow for two booksellers at a time.” In the teeth of this arbitrary decision Robert Fowlis, who as a young barber had attracted the notice of some of the university professors, and had been encouraged to attend the lectures, opened a book-shop in 1739. In 1743 he was appointed printer to the university, and in the following year he produced his celebrated immaculate edition of “Horace,” which was hung up on the college walls with a reward appended for every mistake discovered. In the course of thirty years they produced as many well printed classics as Bodoni of Parma, or Barbon of Paris, and their books, in exactness and beauty of type, almost rival the Aldine series. They endeavoured to devote the money which their success brought them in to the establishment of an academy for the cultivation of the Fine Arts, but this grand, and then novel, project produced their ruin, without in any way affecting the artistic taste of Scotland. After the death of his younger brother, Robert was compelled to send the collection of pictures to London for sale, and as he was in immediate want of money he insisted upon the auction taking place at a time when the picture market was glutted. The sale catalogue forms three volumes, and yet after all expenses were defrayed the balance in his favour amounted only to fifteen shillings. He died on his way back to Glasgow in 1776.

The bookselling and book-manufacturing trades have changed strangely in Glasgow, since the time when the city was judged “too narrow” for two booksellers. At present these branches of industry are only surpassed in Edinburgh, and one Glasgow establishment at least is without a parallel in London. Messrs. Collins, Son, and Co., actually give employment to about seven hundred hands. The ground-floor of their immense building is devoted to the warehousing of paper, account-books, copy-books and general stationery. On the main floor of the establishment one hundred binders are constantly at work, and on the floor above the folding and sewing of the sheets is executed by two hundred girls and women. In the rear stands the engine-house and printing office where sixteen platten and cylinder typographic machines are kept working at full steam, upon dictionaries, school-books, Bibles, prayer-books, devotional, and other publications. Seven lithographic machines are constantly employed upon atlases and their celebrated copy-books, and it has been found that the finest lithographic work can be better executed by the machine than, as till very recently, at press. Everything is done on the premises, which extend from Stirling’s Road to Heriot Hill, except making the paper and casting the type.[32]

As further proof of the magnitude of the business, we may quote a recent statement of Mr. Henderson, one of the partners. In 1869 there were “issued from the letter-press section of the establishment, no fewer than 1,352,421 printed and bound works--equal to about 4500 per day, or 450 passing through the hands of the workers every working hour.”

Little more than a hundred years ago the great seaport town of Liverpool was a little fishing village, and, consequently, the bookselling trade there is of a very recent growth. Among the first important members of the fraternity were Darton and Freer; but perhaps the most famous Liverpool bibliopole of his day was Thomas Johnson. He started in Dale Street, in 1829, with a stock of books only large enough to fill the bottom shelves of his window; and at the back of his shop, scarce hidden, he kept his bed and household utensils. However, he had the happy knack of making friends in all quarters; and when at a large trade sale, offered on unusually advantageous terms, he had speedily emptied his meagre purse, and was looking wistfully at the bargains falling to all his neighbours, a Liverpool merchant bade him go on purchasing to the extent of £100 or £150, adding that he himself would take the risk. This timely aid set Johnson up in a comparatively princely manner, and after he had been in business a few years his periodical catalogue extended to 300 pages. At this time the country booksellers were chiefly dependent for their stocks upon the sales of private libraries, but the Liverpool booksellers possessed another large means of supplying their wants. The Bible Society in Dublin was very busy in distributing new Bibles in all directions, which the good Catholics at once carried to the pawnshops. These were purchased again by Mr. Duffy, who brought them over to Liverpool in huge sacks, and exchanged them for books more agreeable to the Irish taste.

By degrees Johnson combined publishing and auctioneering with the more legitimate business. His first venture in the former capacity was Abbot’s collected works; but by far his most successful were the Lectures on “Revivals,” and on “Professing Christians,” by Mr. Finney, of which he sold 150,000 copies. As an auctioneer, he was a lesser, or Liverpool edition, of Tegg, and his rooms under the Liver theatre were crowded nightly. On one occasion Johnson is said to have purchased the entire contents of Baldwin’s Bible room, and he was well known to have been the largest consumer of Bibles out of London; and when Arnold left the Bagsters, and commenced Bible printing on his own account, Johnson was his favourite customer. Arnold’s puffing hand-bills vie with the choicest pill-mongering productions. After a violent tirade against Puseyism he continues thus, _re_ his “Domestic Bible,” and “Bible Commentary:”--

“He has provided you the seed; He will help you to sow it, He will help you to reap it. Sow it then, sow freely--sow largely--sow bountifully--sow perseveringly. It may be bought cheaply--may be had in any quantity--has never been known to fail in its effects. There are agents for its sale in every town in Great Britain, you may obtain it from any bookseller in penny and threepenny packages. Sow it, men of Britain--sow it in schools--in families--in every town--in every village--in every hamlet of England, Wales, and Scotland. Sow it beyond the sea--for it will grow on foreign shores. Send it to Ireland, to the Colonies, to India, to China, and sow it there. Send it to the continent and to Africa and sow it there.” And so on _ad nauseam_. The seed, however, proved very unprofitable to Arnold; and shortly after his failure Johnson was also obliged to give up business, having signed some unfortunate bills. He afterwards rejoined his father in Manchester.

Another well-known Liverpool bookseller was “Dandy” Cruikshank, of Castle Street, who maintained that he was the handsomest man in England, and whose vanity extended to his trade, for his specialities were books bound in pink and orange.

At the present time there are about sixty booksellers in Liverpool; and Mr. Edward Howell, an apprentice of Johnson’s, possesses the largest stock, consisting of 100,000 volumes, and is known also as a religious publisher. Mr. Philip, another leading bookseller, has two establishments in Liverpool, and a branch house in London, while Mr. Cornish, of Holborn, has an establishment in Liverpool, as well as in Dublin.

Crossing the Channel for a moment, we have an opportunity of saying something of the Dublin booksellers; but we shall not be detained long, as, in this branch of industry, the Irish capital presents a striking contrast to the Scottish. In the interval between the cessation of the licensing system and the Copyright Act of the 8th Anne, there was no legal protection for literary property, and book-pirates consequently abounded. One of the tribe has been celebrated by Dunton: “Mr. Lee, in Lombard Street--such a pirate, such a cormorant never was before--copies, books, men, ships, all was one; he held no propriety, right or wrong, good or bad, till at last he began to be known; and the booksellers, not enduring so ill a man among them, to disgrace them, spewed him out, and off he marched for Ireland, where he acted as felonious Lee (!) as he did in London.” There, however, till the Act of Union, in 1801, book-pirates abounded, greatly to the discouragement of native talent, and even of native industry, for Gent tells us repeatedly that it was almost impossible for a journeyman printer to earn wherewithall to exist on in the Dublin printing offices. In 1753 we find Samuel Richardson publishing a pamphlet--“The History of Sir Charles Grandison before Publication by certain Booksellers in Dublin.” It appears that sheets had been stolen from Richardson’s warehouse, and that three Irish booksellers each produced cheap editions of nearly half the entire novel, before a single volume had appeared in England. There was no legal remedy; but “what,” asks the _Gray’s Inn Journal_ indignantly, “what then should be said of Exshaw, Wilson, and Saunders, booksellers in Dublin, and perpetrators of this vile act of piracy? They should be expelled from the Republic of Letters as literary Goths and Vandals, who are ready to invade the property of every man of genius.” With the Act of Union, however, the Dublin booksellers were made amenable to English law, and a dolorous cry arose that their trade was ruined, and that the “vested right” they had inherited, to prey upon the Saxon, had been abolished by the cruel conquerors. From this moment, of course, Irish bookselling was obliged to take a higher tone. In a few years the _Dublin Review_ and the _Dublin University Magazine_ vindicated the intellectual powers of the natives, and for a long time were widely circulated in Ireland, and were then mainly indebted to the enterprise of Irish authors and booksellers. When the Commission of National Education was appointed in Ireland, Mr. Thom was selected as a publisher, and, through their pecuniary aid, was enabled to bring out a series of “Irish National School Books,” that for cheapness and excellence are probably still unrivalled. These led, as we have previously seen, to petitions from the English publishers, complaining of state interference with the ordinary and commercial laws of bookselling, and to trials for infringement of copyright. However, in the long-run the Irish Commissioners were successful, and Mr. Longman, one of the complainants, eventually accepted their English agency. Besides his connection with the Commission, Mr. Thom has acquired a reputation in the Bookselling world by his excellent “Irish Almanac,” which, till recently, was unrivalled by the English almanacs of any London firms.

Latterly, however, Irish bookselling, as far as individual enterprize goes, has been commonly associated with the name of James Duffy. He was born in 1809, and after being apprenticed to a draper in the country, found employment in Dublin, and here, like Robert Chambers, he invested his spare coppers in picking up old books. At last he found trade so bad that he determined to emigrate, and accordingly, as he possessed no funds, he took his books to an auctioneer; at the sale, to his surprise, he found that the books he had purchased for pence, now produced as many shillings. Upon this he determined to drop the scheme of emigration, and to turn bookseller. As we have before mentioned, he collected the Bibles which the Catholics received from the Church of England propagandists only to turn into money, and took them over to Liverpool, where he exchanged them for books less unlawful in Papist eyes. At first he hawked these about the country, but eventually took a place of business in Anglesea Street, Dublin, and there began to publish the “Bruton Series” of thrilling tales of robbers, battles, adventures, and the like, at the low price of twopence each. In 1842 he was appointed bookseller to the Repeal Agitators, and produced, under their auspices, the “Library of Ireland,” consisting of patriotic and national collections of poems, &c., edited or written by some of the most brilliant of the National party. However, the movement for Repeal collapsed, and before this Duffy had discerningly turned his attention to less ephemeral publications, and produced editions of Carleton, Banin, and other native celebrities. The famine of 1846 affected every trade, and as the people had no money to buy bread, the sale of books was, of course, utterly hopeless, and Duffy found that he could not meet his engagements. His creditors granted him time, and the money was to be paid in instalments. He sold his copyrights in England, and paid the first instalment promptly. But when the time was due for the second he saw no prospect of meeting it. A neighbour, however, called John Donnegan, hearing that he was ruined, carried him a stocking full of money, his lifetime’s hoardings, threw it down before him, with “Just take that, and see if it is any use to you! Pay me when you can,” and refusing to take any receipt, rushed out again. The stocking contained nearly £1200, and Duffy was able not only to pay his creditors, but to turn his attention to the publication of more important works than he had hitherto attempted, such as the Douay Bible, Missals, Prayer-books, and many historical works, and it was not long before he was in a position to repay the kindly loan. About 1860 he opened a branch house in London, and at that period the success of his publishing career may be said to have culminated, for after the death of his wife he confined himself almost entirely to disposing of his old stock. He died on the 4th of July of the year 1871, regretted by his fellow-citizens in Dublin, and by his brother bibliopoles throughout the kingdom.[33]

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If it were not for want of space there are several towns in the Midland Counties which deserve notice here on account of their bibliopolical fame--none more so, perhaps, than Derby, which at present possesses no less than three large bookselling firms, which have also branch businesses in London, Messrs. Richardson and Son having in addition another establishment at Dublin. As Roman Catholic publishers some of their productions have achieved an enormous circulation, notably “The Crown of Jesus,” which, honoured with the approval of the Pope, and of all the English dignitaries of the Roman Catholic Church, long since attained an issue of 100,000 copies. The works of Frederick William Faber, D.D., late of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, have also been among the most popular of Messrs. Richardson and Son’s publications. The Mozleys, of Derby, have long been in the trade, and are represented both in the country and in London; one of the family was well known in connection with the editorial staff of the _Times_ newspaper. The Mozleys publish the _Monthly Packet_, edited by Miss Younge, and also the majority of that lady’s separate works. A third firm, Messrs. Bemrose and Sons, have gained a considerable reputation as archæological publishers, and as the proprietors of Mrs. Warren’s “Household Manuals.”

At Halifax, where the book trade is of a more recent date, Messrs. Milner and Sowerby, by their services in the cause of cheap publications of really good and standard works, have done much to counteract the effects of cheap and pernicious literature. “The Cottage Library” has long been known all over England, and was one of the first shilling series of really good books published--certainly the first in a neat form and with a neat binding, issued at this low price, and is still, in its extent and scope, unrivalled.

Manchester was one of the first provincial towns in England to which the printer and bookseller came, for it must be remembered that the trades were for centuries almost synonymous. The art of printing is said to have been introduced here in 1588, when Penny went through the kingdom with an itinerant press, but his plant was seized and destroyed by the fifth Earl of Derby. However, the innovation was effected, and the new art was firmly lodged. Manchester, nevertheless, in these early days was a place of such importance that a mere catalogue of the members of the trade would more than fill the few pages at our command. Among the booksellers of the last century we can only mention Haslingden, who published “Tim Bobbin”--a book still famous; the Sowlers, one of the descendants of whom started the _Courier_, under the editorship of Alaric A. Watts, in 1825, and the journal still enjoys a wide popularity; Joseph Harrop, who originated the _Manchester Mercury_ in 1752, published the “History of Man” in sixpenny numbers, but Harrop’s well-known folio Bible was issued by his son and successor; the firm of Clarke Brothers amassed a large fortune in school books and stationery; and about the same time Banks and Co. were also doing an immense trade upon a thoroughly reprehensible system. Hayward, who was their managing partner, opened shops in various places, placed his own servants in possession, and made them accept bills to a very large amount. These bills were discounted at the Manchester Bank, and when the crash came the bank was a creditor upon the estate to the amount of £120,000, while the London publishers were indebted to the extent of £100,000. Among the shopmen in charge under Hayward’s system was Timperley, a printer, and a man of considerable literary ability. To pay the debts contracted through this wholesale acceptance of bills, he consigned his stock to an auctioneer, who, after disposing of it by auction, ran off with the proceeds of the sale. Timperley, heart-broken by misfortune, accepted a literary engagement with Fisher and Jackson, of London, and in their service he died. In early days he had been a soldier, had gone through many campaigns, had served at Waterloo, and had well earned his pension of a shilling per diem. He is now known chiefly as the author of the “Manchester Historical Recorder,” and of “Timperley’s Typographical Dictionary”--one of the most accurate, laborious, and voluminous compilations ever made, and one to be gratefully remembered by all students of the history of the printing press in this country. Another worthy of typographical fame was Bent, who, after doing a large bookselling business among the Manchester Unitarians, then, at all events, the most cultivated portion of the inhabitants, started “Bent’s Literary Advertiser,” the first bookseller’s organ, and which latterly has been incorporated in the _Bookseller_. The _Bookseller_ was started in 1857 by Mr. Whitaker, and among its earliest contributors were many men of some note, especially Alaric Watts. From the first it filled an acknowledged void, and, as a trade journal, has never been surpassed. From the interest of the notes and trade gossip contained in its pages, as well as from the more solid information in its lists of works and announcements, it has secured a wide popularity here and abroad, and has been the precursor of similar journals in America and elsewhere.

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Among other important Manchester publishers were R. & W. Dean, who introduced stereotyping into the city, and issued a large series of popular and useful books. From some cause or another, they failed, and their stereos came into the possession of Samuel Johnson, the father of the Liverpool bookseller. Johnson now became a publisher on a very extensive scale, and is said to have been the originator of the royal 32mo. literature, which is now chiefly identified with Halifax.

In our own times, Manchester bookselling has been principally represented by the brothers Abel and John Heywood--a name almost as widely known as that of any London firm. The brothers were born at Prestwich, of very humble parentage; their father, indeed, is said at one time to have been in receipt of parish relief. Abel began life as a warehouse boy, on the scanty pittance of eighteenpence a week; but at the age of twenty he was summarily dismissed by his master in a fit of passion. He now obtained the wholesale agency for the _Poor Man’s Guardian_, and was very shortly afterwards fined £54 for selling it without a stamp. He could not pay the fine, and was sent to prison for four months; but his family managed the shop during his incarceration, still selling the _Guardian_ as before, but in a quieter manner. In 1834 and in 1836 he was again fined, but now he could afford to pay. The Government next tried to seize the papers while in the hands of the carriers, and they were obliged consequently to be sent through the country carefully concealed--embedded in a chest of tea or a hamper of shoes. As soon, however, as the duty was reduced from fourpence to a penny, the poorer classes were able to pay for stamped papers. Abel Heywood was, nevertheless, again the subject of a legal prosecution for the publication of a penny pamphlet by Haslam. Acting with vigorous promptness, he caused three or four copies of Shelley’s works to be purchased from the chief Manchester booksellers, and then contended that the poems were more blasphemous than his pamphlet. The Government did not care to excite the ill-feelings of the reading public by sending booksellers of position to prison, and as the cases were precisely similar, they relinquished the prosecution. Probably this decisive conduct suggested the same course to Hetherington, who was afterwards the cause of that famous trial, the Queen _v._ Moxon.

In 1838, Fergus O’Connor started the _Northern Star_, and for four years its prosperity at the time was unexampled. Heywood sold 18,000 copies weekly. By degrees his periodical trade increased enormously. In 1847 he joined some paper-stainers, and the firm soon became one of the largest in the world. In the year 1860 the paper duty paid by them amounted to more than £20,000. Among the most successful of his recent publications have been “Abel Heywood’s Penny Guide Books.” The series now embraces upwards of seventy-five numbers, referring to every place of importance or interest in the kingdom. He has also issued the whole of the popular tale, “The Gates Ajar,” for the same price--one penny--giving in a pamphlet form what usually occupies a goodly volume.

Abel Heywood, however, was as well known as a distinguished public man as a successful bookseller. In 1835 he was appointed a Commissioner of Police, and during the Manchester riots in 1842 and 1849 he took a conspicuous part in quelling the disturbances. Elected to the corporation, he became an alderman in 1853, and in 1859 he was third in the list of candidates at the general Parliamentary elections. In 1862 he was elected Mayor of Manchester; in 1864 he took his son, Abel, into partnership.

John Heywood commenced life in the same lowly circumstances as his brother, and at the age of fourteen found employment as a handloom weaver. Within ten years his wages rose from half-a-crown to thirty shillings a week; and when in receipt of this latter sum he regularly allowed his mother a pound a week. At the age of four-and-twenty he married, and to improve his worldly position, accepted the management of a small factory at Altrincham, in Cheshire; but as the speculation proved a failure, he returned to his former occupation of “dressing” for power-loom weavers, at which he remained until his thirty-fifth year. Desirous of rendering even his spare time profitable, he had bought a paper-ruling machine, upon which he worked in the evenings; and Abel, who was now a successful bookseller in Oldham Street, offered him a situation in his establishment as paper-ruler, with a salary of two pounds a week: and in his brother’s employ he remained for seven years. In 1842, however, determined to make a start for himself, he took a little shop in Deansgate, and, assisted by his son John, a lad of thirteen, the business, originally infinitesimal, increased rapidly and vastly. At first they confined their efforts almost entirely to the sale of weekly or Sunday papers, and they were able to carry abroad conveniently under their arms all the newspapers they could dispose of. In a few months, however, the aid of a wheelbarrow was required, and this, in turn, was discarded for a pony and trap. After adding every possible enlargement to the old premises, they were obliged in 1859 to take a shop on the opposite side of the street; and year after year, as the business expanded, addition after addition was made to the premises, until three buildings were rolled into one, and at the end of another seven years a huge six-storey manufactory was built in the rear of the triangular shop. The increase of the working staff kept pace with the growth of the establishment, and now, instead of the armful or the barrow-load, a special railway truck, with a freightage of about two tons, comes down from London five times a week; some hundred and fifty assistants supply the place of the lad of thirteen, and nine spring-carts have been introduced in lieu of the little pony trap. A thousand parcels are made up each day, and between three and four hundred orders are received by every morning’s post; for, besides being the largest newsvendors and booksellers out of London, the firm are the largest copybook makers in the kingdom. Fifteen hundred gross of copybooks are despatched from the warehouses every month; and it is stated that the weekly issue of newspapers, magazines, and other periodicals amounts to the almost incredible number of a quarter of a million.

In 1864, John Heywood, senior, died, and the business devolved upon his son, who had inherited all his father’s energy and industry. In 1867 he introduced a platten printing machine, adapted to take impressions from the stereo-plates of his school-books--known as “John Heywood’s Code,” “John Heywood’s Manchester Reader,” &c.--and before long he resolved to become a regular printer as well as a publisher, and the “Excelsior Printing Works” were erected about a mile from Deansgate, where 355 people are constantly employed in the manufacture of books, in a manner very similar to that previously described in our accounts of the Messrs. Nelson and Collins, of Scotland. Among the books published by Mr. John Heywood are dialectic works, many of which are regarded, justly, as Lancashire classics. One of his latest triumphs has been the issue of the “Science Lectures for the People,” delivered at the Hulme Town Hall, and sold separately at a penny each--a fact that says something as to the good taste of the factory lads. Four monthly and three weekly periodicals are published by Mr. John Heywood. Of the former the _Railway Guide_ is the most widely circulated, while the _Lithographer_ is indispensable to the many decorative artists of the neighbourhood; and _Ben Brierley’s Journal_, with its vernacular contributions, finds its way to every Lancashire fireside. Of the latter, the _Sphinx_, a satirical journal, is the most popular.

The career of the two Heywoods is a striking example of the labour, energy, and success which Lancashire folk are apt to think the true attributes of the typical “Manchester man;” and if they have not been instrumental in adding much to the higher literature of the world, their publications have very widely extended the taste for knowledge among the lower orders in the north of England.

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Even in Birmingham the trade of bookselling was introduced at a comparatively recent date. Dr. Johnson tells us that his father used to open a bookstall here on market days; and Boswell adds, in a note, that there was not then a single regular bookshop in the whole town. Elsewhere he tells us that “Mr Warren was the first established bookseller in Birmingham, and was very attentive to Johnson, who he soon found could be of much service to him in his trade by his knowledge of literature; and he even obtained the assistance of his pen in furnishing some numbers of a periodical essay, printed in the newspaper of which Warren was proprietor.” Mr Warren, however, though Johnson’s first encourager, has long since been forgotten, and Birmingham bookselling is now universally identified with the name of William Hutton; and from his autobiography, published in 1816--perhaps the most interesting record of a self-made life that has ever been personally indited--we give a short sketch of his career.

William Hutton was born at Derby, in 1723. His father, a drunken wool-comber, scarcely brought home wherewithal to keep the wretched family from starvation, and “consultations were held (when the child was six years old) about fixing me in some employment for the benefit of the family. Winding quills for the weaver was mentioned, but died away. Stripping tobacco for the grocer, by which I was to earn fourpence a week, was proposed, but it was at last concluded that I was too young for any employment.” Next year, however, the result of the consultation was otherwise, and he was placed in a silk-mill; the youngest, and by far the smallest, of the 300 persons employed, a lofty pair of pattens were tied on to his feet so that he might be able to reach the engine; and he continues:--“I had now to rise at five every morning, summer and winter, for seven years; to submit to the cane whenever convenient to the master; to be the constant companion of the most rude and vulgar of the human race; never taught by nature, nor ever wishing to be taught.” Brutally treated, so that the scars of his chastisements remained on his body through life, he left the mill as soon as ever his apprenticeship expired; “a place,” he says, “most curious and pleasing to the eye,” but which had given him a seven years’ heart-ache. He was now bound for another term to an uncle--a stocking-maker at Nottingham. “My task was to earn for my uncle 5_s._ 10_d._ a week. The first week I could reach this sum I was to be gratified with sixpence, but ever after, should I fall short or go beyond it, the loss or profit was to be my own.” In this situation, he was not only thrashed by his master, but starved by his aunt; and, goaded by the taunts of the neighbours, he fled away, but was reluctantly compelled to return. In 1744 his apprenticeship expired, and for two years longer he remained as a journeyman in the same employment, but he now made the melancholy discovery--for all trade was in a very wretched condition at the time--that he had served two separate terms of seven years, to two separate trades, and yet could subsist upon neither.

A gradually acquired taste for reading led him to purchase a few books, and their tattered condition prompted him to try his hand at binding; and, as he could get no employment in his own avocations, he determined to start afresh as a bookbinder. His friends sneered at his ambitious hopes, but his sister supported him firmly. There were no binding tools to be purchased then in the country, so his sister “raised three guineas, sewed them in my shirt-collar, for there was no doubt but I should be robbed,” and put eleven shillings in his pocket as a sop to the expected highwayman, and off he started for London, walking fifty-one miles the first day and reaching it on the third. Here he invested his three guineas in tools, and stayed three days, seeing all that could be seen for nothing, his only paid entertainment being a visit to Bedlam, which cost a penny. Three days more, and he was back at Nottingham, terribly worn-out and footsore, but with fourpence still remaining out of his little travelling fund.

He now took a small shop, fourteen miles from Nottingham, at an annual rent of twenty shillings, and “in one day became the most eminent bookseller in Southwell,” but he still lived at Nottingham. “During the rainy winter months,” he says, “I set out from Nottingham at five every Saturday morning, carried a burthen of from three to thirty pounds’ weight to Southwell, opened shop at ten, starved it all day upon bread, cheese, and half a pint of ale; took from 1_s._ to 6_s._, shut up at four, and by trudging through the solitary night and the deep roads five hours more, I arrived at Nottingham by nine, where I always found a mess of milk-porridge by the fire, prepared by my valuable sister. But nothing short of resolution and rigid economy could have carried me through this scene.”

There was little profit, however, in such a life, laborious as it was, and in 1750 he made an exploring journey to Birmingham, where he found there were only three booksellers--Warren, Aris, and Wollaston, and here he resolved to settle, hoping that he might escape the envy of “the three great men.”

He obtained the use of half a little shop for the moderate premium of one shilling per week, but he had as yet to find wherewith to stock it. On a visit to Nottingham, he met a friendly minister, who asked, for the weather was inclement, why he had ventured so far without a great-coat, and who on receiving no reply, shrewdly guessed Hutton’s impoverished condition, from his draggled, thread-bare garments, and offered him a couple of hundred-weight of books at his own price, and that price to be postponed to the future, and by way of receipt the young bookseller gave him the following: “I promise to pay to Ambrose Rudsall £1 7_s._, when I am able.” The debt was speedily cancelled.

His period of probation was sufficiently severe: “Five shillings a week covered all my expenses, as food, washing, lodging, &c.,” but by degrees the better-informed and wealthier of the young clerks and apprentices began to frequent his shop, and were attracted by his zeal, and his evident love for the books he sold. With his skill in binding, he could furbish up the shabbiest tomes, and greatly increase their marketable value. By the end of his first year he found that he had, by the most rigid economy, saved up twenty pounds. Things were brightening, but the overseers, who at that time possessed a terrible power over the poorest classes, ostensibly dreading lest he should become chargeable to the parish, refused his payment of the rates, and bade him remove elsewhere. In this strait he exhibited much worldly wisdom, and invested half his little hoarding in a fine suit of clothes, purchased from one of the overseers, who happened to be a draper.

In the following year, 1751, he took a better shop, next door to a Mr. Grace, a hosier, and in a quiet, undemonstrative manner, fell in love with his neighbour’s niece. “Time gave us,” he says, “numberless opportunities of observing each other’s actions, and trying the tenour of conduct by the touchstone of prudence. Courtship was often a disguise. We had seen each other when disguise was useless. Besides, nature had given to few women a less portion of deceit.” The uncle at length consented to the match, and, with Sarah, Hutton received a dowry of £100; and, as he had already amassed £200 of his own, from this happy moment his fortunes ran smoothly upwards.

He now increased an otherwise profitable trade by starting a circulating library--perhaps the first that was attempted in the provinces; and about this same time, 1753, he acquired a very useful friend in the person of Robert Bage, the paper-maker, and undertook the retail portion of the paper business. “From this small hint,” he says, “I followed the stroke forty years, and acquired an ample fortune.” And yet, though waxing yearly richer and richer, he adds, “I never could bear the thought of living to the extent of my income. I never omitted to take stock or regulate my annual expenses, so as to meet casualties and misfortunes.” By degrees he became invested with civic dignities, and little by little he acquired the standing of a landed proprietor. Without neglecting his business he now found leisure for literary composition; and in his last work--“A Trip to Coatham”--he tells us, “I took up my pen, and that with fear and trembling, at the advanced age of fifty-six, a period when most would lay it down. I drove the quill thirty years, during which time I wrote and published thirty books.”

His first work, the “History of Birmingham,” appeared, and these thirty tomes of verse and prose followed in quick succession.

In 1802 he published his best-known work, the “History of the Roman Wall.” Antiquarians had, before this, described the famous line of defence, but hitherto no one had attempted a personal inspection. Seventy-five years old, still hale and hearty, with an enthusiasm akin to that of youth, he started on foot for Northumberland, accompanied by his daughter on horse-back. Intent upon reaching the scene of his antiquarian desires, “he turned,” writes his daughter, “neither to the right nor the left, except to gratify me with a sight of Liverpool. Windermere he saw, and Ullswater he saw, because they lay under his feet, but nothing could detain him from his grand object.” On his return journey, after every hollow of the ground, every stone of the Wall, between Carlisle and Newcastle, had been examined, he was bitten in the leg by a dog, but even this did not restrain him. Within four days of home “he made forced journeys, and if we had had a little further to go the foot would have knocked up the horse! The pace he went did not even fatigue his shoes. He walked the whole 600 miles in one pair, and scarcely made a hole in his stockings.”

Almost to the last he preserved his physical powers comparatively intact. When he was eighty-eight, he writes--“At the age of eighty-two I considered myself a young man. I could, without fatigue, walk forty miles a day. But during the last few years I have felt a sensible decay, and, like a stone rolling downhill, its velocity increases with its progress. The strings of the instrument are one after another giving way, never to be brought into tune.” Yet he did not die till 1815, at the ripe old age of ninety-two.

* * * * *

At the close of the last century Hutton lost a valuable collection of books, and other valuable property, through the lawless riots that took place in his native city; of these disturbances the author of the _Press_ says:--

“When Birmingham, for riots and for crimes, Shall meet the keen reproach of future times, Then shall she find, amongst our honoured race, One name to save her from entire disgrace.”

This “one name” was that of John Baskerville, a printer, a contemporary of Hutton, and one of the most famous English type-founders. Commencing life as a schoolmaster, his inclination for books turned his attention to type-founding, but he spent £600 before he produced one letter that thoroughly satisfied his exquisitely critical taste, and probably some thousands before his business began to prove remunerative; and, after all, his printing speculations yielded more honour than profit. Upon paying a heavy royalty to the University of Cambridge, he was allowed to print a Bible in royal folio, which, for beauty of type, is still unrivalled; but the slender and delicate form of his letters were, as Dr. Dibdin remarks, better suited to smaller books, and show to the greatest advantage in his 12mo. “Virgil” and “Horace.” His strenuous endeavours, and his large outlay, met with but little return; and he writes of the “business of printing” as one “which I am heartily tired of, and repent I ever attempted.” He died in 1775, and appears to have printed nothing during the last ten years of his life. By the direction left in his will, he was buried under a windmill in his own garden, with the following epitaph on his tomb-stone: “Stranger! beneath this cone, in unconsecrated ground, a friend to the liberties of mankind directed his body to be inurned. May the example contribute to emancipate thy mind from the idle fears of superstition, and the wicked arts of priesthood.” His fount of type was unluckily allowed to leave the country, and was purchased by Beaumarchais, of Paris, who produced some exquisite editions, particularly of Voltaire’s works, but who lost upwards of one million livres in his speculations.

* * * * *

A successful modern bookselling venture in this city resulted from the establishment of the “Educational Trading Company (Limited)”--a novel phase in the trade--of which the chief proprietor and chairman was Mr. Josiah Mason. The business management was placed in the hands of Mr. Kempster, and, by a thorough system of travellers, who personally canvassed the proprietors of schools and colleges, offering them very liberal terms, a large connection was almost immediately established. The company’s operations were, of course, confined to the publication of cheap educational works; and some of these, such as Gill’s and Moffat’s series, attained a wide popularity, and necessitated, in 1870, the opening of a London branch at St. Bride’s Avenue, and another branch house at Bristol.

One of the most famous booksellers and printers of the West of England was Andrew Brice, who was born in Exeter in the year 1690. He was educated in early life with a view to the ministry, but family misfortunes obliged him to become apprentice to Bliss, a printer in that city. Long before the expiry of his apprenticeship the improvident young printer married, and, being unable to support a wife and two children upon the pittance he received, he enlisted as a soldier in order to break his indentures, and, by the interest of his friends, soon procured a discharge. He commenced business on his own account, and started a newspaper, but, possessing only one kind of type, he carved in wood the title and such capitals as he stood in need of. Becoming embarrassed through a law suit, in which heavy damages were cast against him, he was obliged to bar himself in his own house to escape the debtor’s gaol. He spent seven long years in this domestic confinement, but still continued to conduct his business with assiduity, and, as a solace, to compose a poem, “On Liberty,” the profits of which enabled him to compound with the keepers of the city prison. After regaining his freedom his business largely increased, and, in 1740, he set up a printing-press at Truro, the first introduced into Cornwall; the miners were, however, at that time in little need of literature, and he soon removed the types to Exeter. Among his chief publications were the “Agreeable Gallimanfly; or, Matchless Medley,” a collection of verses chiefly the production of his own pen; the “Mob-aid,” so full of newly-coined words that, in Devonshire, “Bricisms” were for long synonymous with quaint novelty of expression; and the folio “Geographical Dictionary,” which occupied ten years in publication and is still far from complete. Brice was at all times a shielder of the oppressed; and when the Exeter play-actors were purchased out of their theatre by the Methodists, who converted it into a chapel, and indicted them as vagrants, he published a poem--“The Playhouse Church; or, new Actors of Devotion,” which so stirred up popular feeling that the Methodists were fain to restore the place to its former possessors, who, under Brice’s patronage, opened their house for some time gratis to all comers. In gratitude the players brought his characteristics of speech and dress into their dramas, and even Garrick eventually introduced him, under, of course, a pseudonyme, in the “Clandestine Marriage.” At the time of his death, in 1773, he was the oldest master-printer in England. His corpse lay for some days in state at the Apollo Inn; every person admitted to view it paid a shilling, and the money so received went towards defraying the expense of his funeral, which was attended by three hundred freemasons, for he had not only been a zealous member of the fraternity, but at the period of his decease he was looked upon as the father of the craft.

* * * * *

Another West of England worthy, though he was only a bookseller for the short space of seven years, has perhaps higher claim upon our attention than any other provincial bibliopole. Joseph Cottle was born at Bristol in the year 1770, and at the age of twenty-one he became a bookseller in his native city. In 1795 he published a volume of his own “Poems”--and himself an author he was generously able to appreciate the work of better men. Through extraordinary circumstances he became acquainted with Coleridge, Southey, Wordsworth, and Lamb, when they were still unknown to fame, and with a rare perception of genius he was able to assist them materially towards the goal of success. From his interesting “Early Recollections,” we gather that one evening Coleridge told him despondently that he had been the round of London booksellers with a volume of poems, and that all but one had refused to even look over the manuscript, and that this one proffered him six guineas for the copyright, which sum, poor as he was, he felt constrained to decline. Cottle at once offered the young author thirty guineas, and actually paid the money before the completion of the volume, which appeared in 1796.

To Southey he made the same bid for his first volume, and the offer was eagerly accepted. Cottle at once, however, added, “You have read me some books of your ‘Joan of Arc,’ which poem I perceive to have great merit. If it meet with your concurrence I will give you fifty guineas for this work, and publish it in quarto, when I will give you in addition fifty copies to dispose of among your friends.” Southey corroborates this account, and further says, “It can rarely happen that a young author should meet with a bookseller as inexperienced and as ardent as himself; and it would be still more extraordinary if such mutual indiscretion did not bring with it cause for regret to both. But this transaction was the commencement of an intimacy which has continued without the slightest shade of displeasure at any time on either side to the present day.” Cottle ordered a new fount of type “for what was intended to be the handsomest book that Bristol had ever yet sent forth,” and owing, perhaps, more to the party feelings of the periodical press, and the subject of the poem, than to any intrinsic merit, other than as holding out vague hope of future promise, the young author acquired a sudden reputation, which was afterwards fully sustained by his prose if not by his poetry.

Later on Cottle was introduced to Wordsworth, who read him portions of his “Lyrical Ballads.” The venturous bookseller made him the same offer of thirty guineas for the first-fruits of his genius, saying that it would be a gratifying circumstance to issue the first volumes of three such poets, and (a veritable prophecy) “a distinction that might never again occur to a provincial bookseller.” After mature consideration, Wordsworth accepted the offer; but the “Lyrical Ballads,” in which also Coleridge’s “Ancient Mariner” first appeared, went off so slowly that he was compelled to part with the greater part of the five hundred copies to Arch, a London bookseller. We have already related how Cottle, and after him, Longman, rendered material assistance to Chatterton’s sister, by an edition of the poems of the Sleepless Boy who perished in his Pride, and how in 1798 Cottle disposed of all his copyrights to Longman, and obtained his consent to return the copyright of the “Lyrical Ballads” to the author.

Though Cottle henceforth gave up bookselling, he did not forego book-making. In 1798 he published his “Malvern Hills,” in 1801 his “Alfred,” and in 1809 the “Fall of Cambria.” These last effusions attracted the venom of Lord Byron’s pen, who writes in bitter prose, “Mr. Cottle, Amos, Joseph, I know not which, but one or both, once sellers of books they did not write, now writers of books that do not sell, have published a pair of epics,” and in bitterer verse:

“Bœotian Cottle, rich Bristowa’s boast, Imports old stories from the Cambrian coast, And sends his goods to market, all alive, Lines forty thousand, cantos twenty-five.

* * * * *

Oh, Amos Cottle!--Phœbus! what a name To fill the speaking trump of future fame!-- Oh, Amos Cottle! for a moment think What meagre profits spring from pen and ink! When thus devoted to poetic dreams Who will peruse thy prostituted reams? Oh, pen perverted, paper misapplied! Had Cottle still adorned the counter’s side, Bent o’er the desk, or, born to useful toils, Been taught to make the paper which he soils, Plough’d, delved, or plied the oar with lusty limb, He had not sung of Wales, nor I of him.”

Of course, this confusion of the names of the two brothers was intentionally meant to strengthen the gibe. Though Cottle was at best an indifferent poet his name would have survived as a generous friend even if Lord Byron had not honoured him with his satire.

After having personally encouraged the youthful genius of such authors as Coleridge, Southey, and Wordsworth, and after having enjoyed their friendship and esteem, it was natural that Cottle, when their names had become familiar words in every household in England, should wish to preserve what he could of the history of their early days. In 1837 he published his “Early Recollections,” but as he had felt compelled to decline to contribute them in any mutilated form to the authorised, and insufferably dull, life of Coleridge, the work was greeted by the _Quarterly Review_ with a howl of contemptuous abuse, as consisting of the “refuse of advertisements and handbills, the sweepings of a shop, the shreds of a ledger, and the rank residuum of a life of gossip.” This is certainly “slashing criticism” with a vengeance: Cottle based the value of his book upon the ground of his having been a bookseller, and to taunt him with the fact is as unmanly as the whole description of the work is false. He lays the slightest possible stress upon the assistance he had been able to render the illustrious authors pecuniarily, and only brings it forward at all as furnishing matter for literary history; and to most students the literary history of the early struggles of genius does possess the highest interest. Cottle was certainly unskilled in the art of composition, and was undoubtedly garrulous, but the gossip anent such writers, when prompted, as in this case, by truth and affection, is worth tomes of disquisitions upon their virtues or their faults. Joseph Cottle died as recently as 1854, and his memory is already half-forgotten, and yet had we wished to close our annals of the “trade” by tributes paid by illustrious writers to the worth and integrity of its members, we could find none more fitting than the letters of two famous poets to an obscure provincial bookseller.

“DEAR COTTLE,--On the blank leaf of my poems I can most appropriately write my acknowledgments to you, for your too disinterested conduct in the purchase of them.... Had it not been for you none, perhaps, of them would have been published, and some not written.

“Your obliged and affectionate friend, S. T. COLERIDGE.”

Again:--

“Do you suppose, Cottle, that I have forgotten those true and most essential acts of friendship which you showed me when I stood most in need of them? Your house was my house when I had no other.... Sure I am that there never was a more generous or kinder heart than yours, and you will believe me when I add that there does not live that man upon earth whom I remember with more gratitude and affection.... Good-night, my dear old friend and benefactor.

“ROBERT SOUTHEY.”

[Illustration: THE END.]

BILLING, PRINTER, GUILDFORD, SURREY.

FOOTNOTES

[1] “Essai sur les Livres dans l’Antiquité.”

[2] For a very interesting article on this subject, see _Cornhill Magazine_, vol. ix.

[3] Carnan is said, by Mr. Knight, to have been so frequently prosecuted that he invariably kept a clean shirt in his pocket, that he might lessen the inconvenience of being carried off unexpectedly to Newgate.

[4] D’Urfey was a music-master.

[5] This anecdote is often incorrectly related of Wilkes and the _Essay on Woman_.

[6] The _Daily Post_, Feb. 13, 1728.

[7] A most interesting and voluminous collection of “notes” in reference to Curll was contributed to “Notes and Queries” (2nd series, vols. ii., iii., and x.) by M.N.S. Many of our facts in relation to him have been taken from that source, and for a far fuller account, in the rough material, we refer the reader thither.

[8] West says he sat next Lackington at a sale when he spent upwards of £12,000 in an afternoon.

[9] _Bookseller_, June, 1865.

[10] As we shall have no other opportunity of referring to the third in rank of the leading quarterlies, we must, perforce, compress its history in a foot-note. The _Westminster Review_ was started more than fifty years ago, by Jeremy Bentham, who was succeeded in editorship by Sir John Browning, in conjunction with General Perronet Thompson, whose labours in the cause of radical reform gave him considerable notoriety at the time. They made way for the accomplished statesman Sir William Molesworth, the editor of _Hobbes_. A profounder thinker still, Mr. John Stuart Mill, followed. Most of his philosophical essays appeared in its pages, at a time when Grote and Mr. Carlyle were both contributing. For more than twenty years now the _Review_ has been in the hands of Dr. Chapman, who, beginning life as a bookseller in Newgate Street, was the first English publisher to recognise the value of Emerson’s writings. Under Dr. Chapman, what is now the great feature--the Quarterly Summary of Contemporary Literature--was introduced. The _Review_ has lately attracted much attention by the bold manner in which the “Social Evil” and the “Contagious Diseases Acts” have been discussed in its columns, and these articles are generally attributed to the able pen of the editor himself.

[11] I. “On Dryden.” (_E. R._, 1828.) II. “History.” (_E. R._, 1828.) III. “Mirabeau.” (_E. R._, 1832.) IV. “Cowley and Milton.” V. “Mitford’s Greece.” VI. “Athenian Orator.” VII. “Barère’s Memoirs.” VIII. “Mill’s Essay on Government.” (_E. R._, 1829.) IX. “Bentham’s Defence of Mill.” (_E. R._, 1829.) X. “Utilitarian Theory of Government.” (_E. R._, 1829.) XI. “Charles Churchill.”

Many of these may be found in the volume of _Miscellanies_ published by Longmans. It has been denied that No. XI. is by Macaulay at all.

[12] For a further account of these extraordinary sales, see Allibone’s _Dictionary of English Literature_, vol. ii., from which many of the above facts have been drawn.

[13] Among the sufferers by this failure was the family of Robert Watt, M.D., author of “Bibliotheca Britannica,” for which £2000 had been given in bills, all of which were dishonoured. He was a ploughboy until his seventeenth year, wrote many medical treatises, and occupied his concluding years with a work precious and indispensable to every student. The whole plan of the “Bibliotheca” is new, and few compilations of similar magnitude and variety ever presented, in a first edition, a more complete design and execution.

[14] _Quarterly Review_, vol. lxx.

[15] Given to Dallas.

[16] Published by James Power, music seller.

[17] Written at Geneva, and published by John Hunt, London.

[18] This sketch was written before the publication of Mr. W. Chambers’s life of his brother, but has been revised in accordance with that interesting memoir.

[19] Mr. Long has deposited in the Public Library at Brighton his private copy of the “Encyclopædia,” interleaved with the names of the contributors, and other interesting information as to the progress of the work.

[20] Mr. G. W. M. Reynolds, of the “Mysteries of London” notoriety, commenced life also as a temperance lecturer, and was at one time editor of the _Teetotaller_ Newspaper.

[21] Lockhart, in his article in the _Quarterly_, says that Hook’s diary shows a clear profit of £2000 on the _first series_. This must be incorrect.

[22] The term _Conger_ is ingeniously said to be derived from the eel, meaning that the association, collectively, would swallow all smaller fry.

[23] _Aldine Magazine_, p. 50.

[24] It was from the intricacy of thought of some few of the poems of the “Christian Year,” that Sydney Smith christened it by the name of “The Sunday Puzzle.”

[25] For the facts in the earlier portion of this memoir we are indebted to an interesting obituary notice in the _Bookseller_.

[26] For a very interesting bibliographical account of Mr. Tennyson’s works, showing the various changes which the poems have undergone, see “Tennysoniana,” by R. H. Shepherd (1856).

[27] For a full account of this interesting and successful bookseller _see_ “Life of Alderman Kelly,” by the Rev. R. C. Fell (1856).

[28] Tegg left a manuscript autobiography, which was published twenty years after his death, in the _City Press_; to this interesting memorial we are indebted for the facts in our present narrative.

[29] This “Petition” was first printed in the _Examiner_, 7th April, 1839, and afterwards republished.

[30] The _Bookseller_, June, 1864.

[31] The _Bookseller_, 1861.

[32] The above account is abridged from the _Bookseller_ of November, 1869.

[33] To a timely notice in a recent number of the _Bookseller_ we are indebted for the main facts in Duffy’s life.

Transcriber’s Notes

Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced quotation marks retained.

Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.

Arithmetic and date-sequence errors have not been corrected.

Page 22: The second illustration (“1547”) may be part of the illustration just above it.

Page 93: “as the rious” was printed that way; may be a typgraphical error for “as the various”.

Page 152: “Dr. Thomas Stewart Trail” may be a misspelling of “Traill”.

Page 221: “looked up his pistols” may be a misprint for “locked”.