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LIFE AND TIMES OF JOHNSON.

GRUB-STREET AND ITS INHABITANTS.

JOHNSO

society the word patron had a real and specific signification; but the age of legitimate patronage had now passed away never to return. Literature, in common with the other retainers and sycophants at baronial halls, had been turned out, and cast upon its own resources; but, like most abandoned pensioners, it was slow to learn the arts of self-reliance, and to develop the spirit of a manly independence. From their late lordly abodes, where they dwelt in liveried and pampered slavery, the devotees of the Muses now fled to garrets, and visiting no longer, except in poetic dreams, the groves, and lawns, and sacred shades, where sentimental poets love to roam, they took up their abodes in obscure streets and out-of-the-way courts of the metropolis. The emancipation of literature by the cessation of patronage abolished the guild by which the art and profession had been restricted to a favored few, and opened the portals of the temple of Apollo to any whom either vanity might entice into it, or necessity drive thither. The train of the Muses was never before so large as now, when they had nothing but barren bays with which to reward their devotees.

OHNSON had passed more than seventeen years in London before the publication of his Dictionary raised him to that height of literary fame that he ever afterward occupied. His personal history for those years has been briefly sketched in the preceding pages; but to enable one to form a just estimate of the whole subject, so as to embrace in the view his "times" as well as his "life," a more extended survey of cotemporary affairs seems to be necessary. Each age has its own peculiarities, which require to be studied in order to obtain an intelligent notion of its affairs; and especially is the literature and literary history of each age marked by their own characteristics, which often differ so widely from those of other times that no system of generalization can be safely applied in investigating them. The condition of the republic of letters in England a hundred years ago must be studied by itself in order to be understood. The materials for such an investigation are abundant and unusually valuable. During the greater part of that chaotic night which preceded the brighter dawn- New facts and phenomena call for a ing in which Johnson's star was in the new nomenclature, and so the peculiar ascendant, the genius of Pope beamed terminology of the "Dunciad" and kindred forth with a clear, but baneful light. Cor- productions was brought into use to meet rect and delicate taste, where there is but the requirements of the case. Foremost little to gratify it, and much to offend, is, among these newly-coined expressions is at best, a faculty of but doubtful utility; "Grub-street," the celebrated locality of though probably few that possess it would the men of letters of that age. "Grubwillingly be deprived of it. In another street," says Johnson in his great Dictionage, and among more favorable circum- ary, " is a street in London, much inhabited stances, the cruel satires of the " Dunciad" by writers of small histories, dictionaries, might have given place to the fellowships and temporary poems, whence any mean of kindred wits and the amenities of liter-production is called Grub-street." Few ary recreations; and, in that case, the genius that was expended in uttering invectives against the prevailing dullness and false taste, might have been exercised in leading the age to loftier achievement in polite literature. But, as matters were, we have the "Dunciad," the best thing that the age could afford-a life-picture of the dark side of affairs as they then existed in the British world of letters.

The mutations of things that surely, but silently, occur with the steady lapse of time, are nowhere else more decidedly experienced than in literature. There was a time, and that not very remote from that under notice, when even in English

of the adventitious terms of the language have become more really and specifically significant than this. As a term used in the natural history of the genus litterateur, it is strictly and definitely specific. The species, however, though numerous, and for a while wonderfully prolific, had but a temporary existence, passing insensibly into other developments, as the creeping myriads of spring assume other forms with the progress of the season. It was of the period of the full tide of Grub-street life that the great master of English verse, comparing its numerous race to the progeny of Berecynthia paying their "homage to the mother of the sky," wrote:

LIFE AND TIMES OF JOHNSON.

"Not less with glory mighty Dullness crown'd,
Now took through Grub-street her triumphant
round;

And her Parnassus, glancing o'er at once,
Beheld a hundred sons, and each a dunce."

But Grub-street formed a link in the
chain of English literature, and as such
answered a valuable purpose. It covered
a transition period, and though unlovely
in itself, it was a stage in the movement
toward a better state of things. Though
somewhat changed in character, the Grub-
street race still existed, when, by the
death of Pope and his own advancement
in dignified authorship, Johnson was ad-
mitted to the first place among literary
men in England. As in the lowest con-
ditions of society there are often found
the elements of a higher life, which in
due time are seen manifesting themselves
by elevating the entire social body, so the
Grub-street fraternity not only from time
to time gave some of its own members to
the higher walks of literature, but also
rose in a body from the low estate in
which its career began. The period now
immediately under notice was an age of
magazines- less corpulent, indeed, and
perhaps less elaborate than their success-
ors of the present time-of reviews, such
as they were, and of all forms of fugitive
literature. "If literature had anything to
hope from such exertions," says an elegant
modern writer, relative to this period, "its
If strength, sub-
halcyon days had come.
sistence, and respect, lay in employment
of the multitudinous force of Grub-street;
if demand and supply were law sufficient
for its highest interest, literature was
prosperous at last, and might laugh at all
of Pope's prophecies. Every week had
its spawn of periodical publications; fee-
ble, but of desperate fecundity."

To supply the requisite matter for these
multitudinous weeklies and monthlies was
the business and livelihood of a corps of
professional writers, of names indeed but
little known to fame, but of prolific pens,
because they wrote to live. Among these
'Johnson had long lived and written. From
the lowest step of the causeway that leads
from the deepest depression of the condi-
tion of authorship for bread, he had fought
his way upward to his present proud
eminence. But though he was among
the Grub-street herd, he was never prop-
erly of them; and while there, as poor as
the poorest, he was still sustained by a

consciousness that he deserved a better
fate, and by the assurance that a brighter
day was yet in his future.

It is in mercy rather than from neces-
sity that the names of the genuine Grub-
street literati are given up to oblivion.
To the delvers among old volumes, the
Belzonis and Layards of literature, their
names are still sufficiently familiar; and
to such, certain obscure allusions and
meaningless names found in the works of
standard writers are all plain and intelli-
gible. When Goldsmith satirized "Ned
Purdon" in an epitaph, he was throwing a
gilded arrow at a veritable "bookseller's
hack," whose history would justify the
presumed dread of terrestrial existence.
The Kendricks, Kelleys, and Woodfalls,
whose names occur so strangely com-
mingled with those of the most renowned
ones of their times, were not less real
than these, though the present generation
knows nothing of them. Johnson's own
history brings us into contact with the
Sheils, the Guthries, the Ralphs, (a quon-
dam friend of Dr. Franklin,) and the
Whiteheads; to say nothing of those whom,
like Savage, he rescued from oblivion, or
such as Goldsmith, who, following his
great predecessor, forced his way upward
to a more elevated grade of authorship.
All these, with their nameless compeers,
were the miners in literature of the times
of Grub-street's glory; each brought his
contributions to his patron, the publisher,
and as the pay was generally proportioned
to the amount, each strove to make the
amount as large as possible.

When literature fled to the garrets of London, the booksellers and publisherswhich callings were then blended-became the chief patrons of the starving followers of the Muses. It would seem that at this time there was an unusual number of distinguished members of the trade in the metropolis, and, in spite of the mutterings of their ill-fed and ill-clad dependents, the evidence leaks out by the way that they were, for the most part, men of good abilities, and of much generA client who is incapable osity of spirit. of caring for himself, and of directing his affairs with even tolerable discretion, will pretty certainly be dissatisfied with the patron who may kindly restrain his follies, and deny him the facilities for injuring himself. To this cause, no doubt, may be referred a large share of the invectives

against the booksellers with which the thorship become mandatory, and the writliterature of the first half of the last cen-er's fabrics must be fashioned to the wishes tury abounds. Nor were the favors of of purchasers. The temptation to venalthe gentlemen of the trade always unap-ity in such circumstances is obvious; but preciated, nor yet always unrewarded by it is less than in the case of the pampered the denizens of the garret. But for the dependents of greatness. It is creditable pen of Johnson, the memory of Cave to the profession of letters, that, as to the would have perished with his own gener- better class of writers, though in the ation; and even Dodsley, the generous, depths of poverty and social depression, great-souled Dodsley, is known to the it has generally been the case, while their present age, and his memory is cherished wares were in the market, their principles among us because he was the friend and and personal independence were not for companion of the author of the English sale. When Walpole, to uphold his adDictionary. What though Osborne was ministration, was annually scattering a left sprawling on his shop-floor, as the re- hundred and fifty thousand pounds among ward of his impertinence, and though mercenary writers, on the whole list of Griffith is forever gibbeted in infamy on his hireling band was not a single man account of his meanness toward Gold- now favorably known in English literature. smith, and Wilkie is pitied or laughed at To write for a subsistence is not less honbecause he failed to detect the latent worth est or honorable than to follow any other of the man who could "write like an pursuit for the same purpose, and he angel," yet even Goldsmith learned that who by his pen can produce merchantit was "better for men of letters to live able fabrics is surely free to use his powby the labors of their hands till more ers to his own advantage. But as no original labor should become popular with one is at liberty to prostitute his abilities trading patrons, than to wait with their to vile purposes, the powers of genius hands across till great men should come to especially should be sacred to truth and feed them;" and when the lord lieutenant right. So thought Johnson; for while he of Ireland suggested the hope of advance- confessed that the price was with him the ment in his native island, he only com- great incitement to literary labors, no man mended his brother, a poor clergyman of might dictate to him the matter and senti"forty pounds a year," to the favor of the ments of his compositions. As a further viceroy, as he was himself sufficiently result of the new state of things in literaprovided for by his best friends, the book-ture, authorship at length became an indesellers. It is through his connection with "poor Goldsmith," that we have come to think kindly of the bustling consequence of Newberry, and for the same cause the name of Mundell is immortalized in the "Vicar of Wakefield," more honorably as well as more effectually than had it been emblazoned on brass or marble in Westminster Abbey. In the person of Davies the two characters were blended; but the author was not more favored by the bookseller than contrariwise; and when the bankrupt man of trade saw only starving want before him, the friendship of Johnson and the favors of Drury Lane theater restored him to authorship and to independ

ence.

Among the further changes effected by the changed state of things, was the establishment of a commercial value for literary productions. They who write to live must live by writing; and as the demands of hunger are both constant and imperious, so the calls to the toils of au

pendent and self-relying profession. The Grub-street mine from time to time afforded specimens of more precious metal than its ordinary leaden geniuses; and these with others who became authors from choice, and were sustained by their chosen profession, constituted in Johnson's time a considerably large and respectable body of men of letters. Among these Johnson now took his place, not by favor, but of right, and stood forth the acknowledged leader of the professional writers of the kingdom. Nor was this preeminence conceded to him for the want of distinguished rivals. Leaving his own writings out of the account, his age was far from being a barren one in literature; and its literary history brings us into contact with many a name of more than an ephemeral interest. A hasty reference to some of these may be at once pertinent to the subject and acceptable to the reader.

Foremost among these must be placed the name of SAMUEL RICHARDSON, who

was a distinguished writer of his times, and the originator of a new class of literary productions. He never belonged to the Grub-street fraternity, for he found his way into the profession of authorship without passing through the severe apprenticeship that was endured by many others. He was a printer by trade, and had the rare good sense not to forsake the humble, but honorable calling by which he gained a livelihood to follow the Muses, till he was assured that bread as well as fame could be obtained from his new calling. The estimate of Richardson's character, both as a man and an author, and of the character and tendency of his writings, as given by a cotemporary writer, Sir John Hawkins, is probably as near to the truth as any that has been since made; indeed, it is singularly coincident with the verdict of the past half-century. He was uneducated, and but little acquainted with books; but he possessed a lively imagination, and a good share of reflection. His mind, however, was undisciplined, and for want of accurate knowledge he was perpetually liable to confuse truth with error, so that his images are often the wildest caricatures, and his philosophy as erroneous as its bases were false. He seemed to write because he was full of matter, and only to transfer to paper the arrant thoughts | that were rioting in his brain. This warmth and earnestness of the writer, by being transferred to the reader, caused his writings to be read with great avidity, especially by such as read only for present amusement. His principal works were "Pamela," "Clarissa," and "Sir Charles Grandison," the original progenitors of the numerous, if not illustrious, race of books commonly known as novels and romances.

The estimate of Richardson's works in his own times was exceedingly various. By some-among whom, strange to say, was Johnson-they were greatly extolled, as rivaling Shakspeare in their delineations of character, and in their power over the passions. Others compared them unfavorably with those of Cervantes and Le Sage, as failing to give just views of life and manners, and as affecting not the healthy, but the morbid sensibilities of the heart, and so inducing a sickly sentimentality based on a vicious esthetical philosophy, instead of developing and strengthening the healthful and normal elements Vol. II, No. 5.—HH

of the character. The correctness of this latter view is now sufficiently obvious, even when viewed from a philosophical stand-point; but, considered in the light of Christian morality, the pernicious tendency of such writings is much more clearly manifest. Vice is so portrayed that its turpitude is only partially discovered, while its allurements are set forth in their most seductive forms. Though gross criminality is not directly encouraged, and virtue is "damned with faint praise," yet are the passions and appetites that impel to criminal indulgences inflamed to the utmost of the writer's powers, and the securities of virtue effectually removed. It is, indeed, a thing quite possible that the readers of the class of works of which Richardson was the originator may be neither vicious in life, nor greatly corrupt in heart; but, if so, it will be in spite of their influence, rather than by their aid.

How

The style of Richardson's writings answered very justly to their matter; it was flimsy in its texture, and wanting in manly dignity, but reckless of the conventionalities of language, and attractive by reason of its freedom and earnest easiness. such works ever obtained Johnson's approval is indeed unaccountable. True, Richardson and he were personal friends, and this fact seems to have blinded the eyes of the great moralist to the nature and tendency of his friend's books, so directly opposed to his own teachings and precepts. There were also other influences about him, of which, perhaps, the favor of the publishers and other interested parties was not the least considerable, inclining him to unite in the general laudation of the popular romances; but even then his commendations were not uniformly entire, nor at any time marked with his characteristic heartiness. the four numbers of The Rambler, supplied to Johnson by his friend, one (No. 97) was from the pen of Richardson; and it is said to have had the largest sale, as first issued, of any of the series; though the modern reader fails to detect the qualities that secured for it this early favor.

Of

To the same general class belonged another, though somewhat different character-Henry Fielding. Here we will avail ourselves of the remarks of Hawkins, and as they are not only

HENRY FIELDING.

just and discriminating, but also concise and perspicuous, we will use his own language:

"This man was in his early life a writer of comedies and farces, very few of which are now remembered; after that, a practicing barrister, with scarce any business; then an anti-ministerial writer, and quickly after a creature of the Duke of Newcastle, who gave him a nominal qualification of a hundred pounds a year, and set him up as a trading-justice, in which disreputable station he died. He was the author of a romance entitled 'The History of Joseph Andrews,' and of another, 'The Foundling, or the History of Tom Jones,' a book seemingly intended to sap the foundation of that morality which it is the duty of parents and all public instructors to inculcate in the minds of young people, by teaching that virtue upon principle is imposture, that generous qualities alone constitute true worth, and that a young man may love and be loved, and at the same time associate with the loosest of women. His morality, in that it resolves virtue into good affections, in contradistinction to moral obligation and sense of duty, is that of Lord Shaftesbury vulgarized, and is a system of excellent use in palliating the vices most injurious to society. He was the inventor of that cant phrase, goodness of heart,' which is every day used as a substitute for probity, and

means little more than the virtue of a horse or a dog; in short, he has done more toward corrupting the rising generation than any writer we know of."

Here also a place must be assigned to Dr. Tobias Smollet, who was likewise a writer of romances and a dealer with the booksellers, though now chiefly known as the author of a History of England, a part of which, for the want of a better, is used as a supplement to Hume's. He was among the compilers of the "Universal History;" he also wrote translations of Gil Blas, Telemachus, and Don Quixote. His principal works of fiction were the "Adventures of Roderic Random" and those of "Peregrine Pickle,"-works that

could be relished only by a vitiated taste and a corrupted heart, and which will invariably leave their readers worse than they found them. He was for some time proprietor and conductor of the "Critical Review;" and he generally so managed his finances, that he lived respectably on the proceeds of his literary labors-having given up his medical profession at an early peroid of his life-though he was about equally destitute of genius and moral character.

One more name must be here introduced from the class now under consideration, that of Lawrence Sterne, a wild and eccentric genius, and a clergyman and dignitary of the cathedral of York. He is remembered as the author of "Tristam Shandy," and of a number of sentimental works, all strongly marked with his own strange characteristics. His writings were considerably in demand, when first published, and they are still sought for and read beyond most of their kindred of the same age; and though they are generally deformed by the same positive faults with those already noticed, they are much more sprightly; they also imbody a deeper and juster philosophy, and are interspersed with many excellent sentiments. Of the manners and character of the man, some notion may be formed from an anecdote of him, related by Johnson: "I was," says he, " but once in the company of Sterne, and then his only attempt at merriment was the display of a drawing too grossly indecent to have delighted even in a brothel." The character of the man is probably not unjustly illustrated by this brief anecdote. We cannot better conclude these notices of some of the principal original writers of that age, than by adding to the foregoing Sir John's estimate of the class:

"Of the writers of this class or sect," (says he,) "it may be observed, that being in general men of loose principles, bad economists, living without foresight, it is their endeavor to commute for their failings by professions of greater love to mankind, more tender affections and finer feelings, than they will allow men of more regular lives, whom they deem formalists, to possess. Their generous notions supersede all obligations, they are a law to themselves, and having good hearts, abounding in the milk of human kindness, are above those considerations that bind men to that rule of conduct which is founded in a sense of duty. Of this school of the principal teachers, and great is the mischief morality, Fielding, Rousseau, and Sterne, are they have done by their documents."

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