Without a periodical literature, we should shared between the publisher and the aube in this dilemma: either to be silent, and thor; but mostly the author has all the let what small insight we may have attain-risk, and risk is pretty well tantamount to ed to die with us; or else, "impelled by loss. Writers of books exhibit every shade hunger and request of friends," resolutely of dullness and imbecility; but periodical undertake tasks for which we are not fitted, writers (if we except contributors to some and produce works where we should have of the trashy publications) must all be men produced articles, works in which the of some ability-they must be up to a cerlittle good that is in them lies buried amidst tain standard; because, as they do not pay for the fancy of appearing in print, like writers of books, the editor takes care their contributions shall be worth printing. the rubbish which surrounds it. This latter evil is the curse of German literature. In spite of numerous periodicals, the German always writes a book when he can; and nineteen out of every twenty are ignoble rubbish. Your German has a contempt for little books; he laughs at the dictum of Callimachus. What, then, can he think of articles? What he can find time to write, he concludes you can find time to read; and upon what subject, or to what extent, cannot a German find time to write? The more we reflect on this matter, the more reason we find for being grateful to a periodical literature, which, if it cannot wholly save us from bad books, does, at least, prevent good articles being diluted into thin works. Moreover, to periodical literature we owe the possibility of authorship as a profession. Dr. Johnson, who first founded that profession, was enabled to do so mainly by means of periodical literature. In reality, few copyrights are bought in England, whereas all periodical writing has its price. When a man has made a name, his work may command a certain honorarium, which varies according to the popularity of his name, and the probable attraction of the subject; but an article in a review or magazine is always well paid for, quite irrespective of such considerations. Periodicals, it is true, are chary of printing essays on abstruse or recondite subjects; yet, in the course of the year, it is singular to observe how many of these essays are printed and paid for. From Chinese antiquities down to topographies of London; from Egyptian mysteries or the Greek dramatists, down to discussions of metre and accent, a variety of subjects is ably discussed in our general periodicals; yet not one of the writers could hope to receive a sixpence for the most elaborate book he could produce on these subjects after years of toil. About one work in every thirty that issues from the press is paid for. Sometimes the publisher undertakes the risk, sometimes the risk and profit are If the reader wishes to form an idea of the rarity of works paid for by publishers, let him consider the following statement. All poems, all sermons, all works on morals or metaphysics, are, with scarcely an exception, without a price. Novels, when by popular authors, are paid for at prices varying from 100l. to 500l.; and, in one or two instances, to 1500l.; when by authors unknown as novelists, but tolerably known in other departments, they are at the publisher's risk and half profits; when by clergymen, gentlemen of a literary turn, titled ladies, or aspiring clerks, the publisher either consents to print them at his own risk and profit, or else demands a sum of money for the publication, the sum varying from 50l. to 2001. A first novel is never paid for. One publisher is known to print gratuitously any novel not too wretched, with the understanding that "if it succeeds" (what a latitude!) the author shall be paid "something" (another!) for his second novel. In this way he is enabled to keep up a running fire of new novels, scarcely one of which is ever paid for. Histories, when mere compilations, are hack-work, and are paid for as such; when laborious works, the authors are often handsomely remunerated. It requires, however, a name, a lucky subject, or some fortunate chance, to get a publisher. Works of science are generally published at the risk of their authors. Unless the book be very striking indeed, an author has a bad chance who publishes his own work. The trade can only be efficiently carried on by the trade. A publisher has a hundred ways of "pushing" a book, of which the author never would dream. Publishing is an expensive luxury, which authors should eschew; yet the delight of appearing in print is so great, that no homily can deter them. A poet was once asked by his publisher how many copies of his poem, then in sheets, he would like to have put up in boards? "The whole edition," replied the confident author. "Humph!" said the publisher. "Just as you please; but if you will take my advice, you will only have a dozen or so.” "Why not the whole?" asked the indignant poet. "Because," answered his adviser, "it spoils them for waste-paper!" In Germany almost every work of any pretension has its price. Works on history, on science, or on metaphysics, unless hopelessly bad, are sure to receive some honorarium. A volume of 300 or 400 octavo pages of metaphysics by a second-rate author, we have known to be bought for 401.; a small price, it is true, but in England the author would have been rejoiced to get his work published for nothing. In France it is almost as bad as in England, except that for serious works there is a larger demand, consequently, more chance of the authors being paid. Thus, 16007. is the least a librettist would receive. Scribe must have doubled that sum for his Robert le Diable, which has been played nearly three hundred times. Aspirants for the laurels of the English legitimate drama are fortunate, indeed, Nevertheless, as neither in Germany nor when, with the most triumphant success, in France the sums paid for works are suffi- they can obtain 3001. for a five-act play; cient to reward an author for his labor nor whereas a Dumas or a Scribe receives 2001. to procure him a subsistence, the condition for permitting the manager to read the MS. of authorship in those countries is, in re- of a five-act play. From M. Vivien's spect of money-payments, decidedly inferior Etudes Administratives we extract the folto that in England. Thanks to our period-lowing interesting particulars relative to the icals ! sums received for various five-act tragedies and comedies performed at the Théâtre Français : With regard to dramatic literature, England is as miserably below France and Germany as those countries are below her in other departments. The theatre in France is the Pactolus of authorship. Its meanest emoluments transcend those of our patent One of those light sparkling theatres. vaudevilles, which a man may throw off easily in a week, if it succeed, is an income. Le Gamin de Paris procured for its author his charming maison de campagne. In England it would have, perhaps, obtained 107. It is but a little while ago that the manager of the Haymarket, with a view of tempting all the dramatic talent of the country, of fered a prize for the best comedy-the magnificent prize of 5001. ! Let us compare the remuneration for the libretto of an opera in five acts at the Académie Royale, quite independently of the remuneration for the music. It should be observed, that every author in repute now demands what are called les primes; that is, the sum of 1000 francs per act, which the manager pays for permission to read the MS. He is then free to accept it or not. (O dramatists of England! what say ye to that? Would you not almost pay that sum to get your are few blanks to men of talent for a great mass of journalists, critics, essayists, tale writers, jesters, there are means of decent subsistence. Talent commands a price; industry is not unrewarded. received, for the most successful play of income. In England the popular authors modern times (The Hunchback),-how in all departments gain prizes; but there much? Four hundred pounds! This does not include the sale of the book, nor the payments from provincial theatres, but the latter is a very small item in England. In fact, when we state that the average amount annually divided amongst the dramatists of France is 1,500,000 francs, we shall enable the reader to estimate the difference which exists between the condition of the dramatist in France and in England. No wonder that so many men endeavor to achieve dramatic success in France, where the rewards are so tempting; and that men of ability seldom attempt it in England, where, to say nothing of the usual vexations, there is really no money to be gained. Douglas Jerrold, for Black-Eyed Susan, received 101. !* In France such a success would have made him an independent man. What the prices paid to dramatists in Germany may be we know not. We only know the simple fact that the theatre is a lucrative department; indeed the only one in which an author can support himself by his pen. There is a great lack of dramatic talent in Germany; and in this respect England is on a par with it: both stages are supplied by translations of French pieces, varied occasionally by an original work of small value. Karl Gutzkow and Ernst Raupach are the most successful writers for the stage, and reap a tolerable harvest by their works. We have thus run rapidly over the comparative money payments to authors, and find that in this respect the condition of the English author far surpasses that of his French or German brethren; only with respect to the drama is he at a decided disadvantage. In Germany the pen will support none except the dramatist, and, perhaps, an occasional journalist, who is a proprietor of a periodical. In France a first-rate journalist is well-paid; the others can barely keep soul and body together a first-rate novelist may earn a scanty livelihood-he must be a Dumas or a Sue to make much money; a dramatist, clever enough to get himself joined with two or three other collaborateurs, is sure of a good That is to say, 10l. would have been the sum paid to him had he not been engaged, at a weekly salary, to write for the theatre. It is true that the law of dramatic copyright was not then in force, so that the author lost the advantages derived from its performance in the country. As a specimen of what industry will do, even when backed by very little ability and limited acquirement, we may mention the case of a German, who, after a residence of a few years in England, learned, the language sufficiently to write it well enough for biographical dictionaries, cyclopædias, and the like, and then earned something like 6001. a year, as a hack-writer on Greek and Roman history and archæology, aided by translations from the German, by editing Latin grammars, and contributing to various works of compilation. In this labor he displayed no talent of any sort, no original thinking, not even remarkable erudition; all he displayed was a ready knowledge of a few text-books, and an untiring persever ance. Now let us turn the tables. Having witnessed the superiority of England, let us gaze awhile at its inferiority. In money payments we surpass all nations; our publishers are the most liberal of Maecenases. But in respect for the profession of literature, and in solicitude for the waning days of its members, we are on a level with the Esquimaux. John Bull is at all times ready to pay. Guineas are tangible, definite, of exchangeable value. But respect, solicitude, anticipative charity, are vague, impalpable motives, which move not his stolid soul. He will pay for a book; he will subscribe for the widow and children of a heart-broken, misery-broken author; but to anticipate that misery by prospective benevolence, is not an idea that would occur to him, or occurring, that would long torment him. Want of generosity is assuredly not his failing. He whose pension-list is swelled into such plethoric magnitude, does not allow the disgraceful item of a miserable Lest this statement, which is perfectly accurate, should mislead any worthy German or Englishman into the idea that 600l. a year awaits every hack-writer on classical subjects, we are bound to add, that the individual in question was greatly aided by an excellent connexion amongst people who were able to give him employment. We quote the story, not to rouse others to emulation, but to illustrate the amount of money which an industrious hack, when fortunate, may earn in England. 12001. to be bestowed on Art, Literature, | their commonplaces with anecdotes conand Science (400l. each!), to stand there cerning their "literary friend." You find as a bitter mockery and a lasting shame your fat-headed host scarcely daring to venfrom any sordid motives. No. Art, Lite-ture an opinion in your presence, and imarature, and Science, are so scurvily treated, gining, because you wrote that article in because they are not respected. The claim The Quarterly, you must be a great chessof court favorites upon his bounty is not, player, and an incomparable hand at whist. perhaps, greater than that of an author who You are asked for autographs; your comhas given up his energies to the task of monplaces are received as jokes. But all instructing or amusing the world; but the this does not disguise the fact, that the proreal respect he feels for the court favorite fession of literature is despised-its incu(in spite of all his sneers) is incalculably rable sin being poverty! greater than that felt for the author. He understands how those who have been at court, or been connected with great people, must suffer, unless they are rescued from want; and he consents to pay towards their support. But he is by no means impressed with any horror at an author's destitution. It seems the natural condition of things. It accords with his idea of an author; it is a proper atmosphere for the attic, the broken teacup as an inkstand, and the blanket for all covering. He absolutely thinks it is a pity authors should be otherwise than poor; poverty is the only proper stimulus. To the imagination of ninetenths of the public (in spite of the lie given to it by almost every author whom they have seen), an author is always more or less of the sort of being drawn by Churchill and Smollett, and still occasionally represented in farces. They cannot divest themselves of the idea. They do not like to be convinced that authors may be gentlemen, who live decently, and know not the sponging-house. Only a few weeks ago a benevolent Cit, delighted with a leader in a newspaper of high standing, sent a ten-pound note enclosed to the editor, for the author! In the simplicity of his heart he thought he was doing an act of charity, instead of offering a poignant insult. He is a type of a large class-who would not, however, send ten-pound notes. Let us not be understood here as arguing in favor of pensions to literary men. We want no government largesse. Pensions are only warrantable in certain instances, and of them hereafter. All we ask for is justice? Simply, the disrespect in which the profession of literature is held. That it is held in disrespect can scarcely be questioned by any competent person. Individual authors are treated with a respect, often exaggerated into servility. Men are proud to have them at their tables, in their country-houses; and are glad to garnish To the proof: In France and Germany a great many minor, and some of the very highest, offices of government are bestowed on literary men. In France, authors are statesmen; and two journalists have become prime ministers. In Germany, authors are not only admitted into office, but there is a vast number of professorships as honorable means of subsistence. In England there are scarcely any professorships, and none that would be conferred on literary men; but there are innumerable government offices of minor importance, now filled by sons of electors, and briefless barristers, not one of which would be bestowed upon literary men. So far from it, a 66 taint" of literature would generally close office against a man. It is always pleaded that authors are unfit for business. But why unfit? Have they been tried? Are they so different from their brethren in France and Germany, who are not found unfit? Besides, let us look to the facts. A fair sprinkling of literary men have obtained office (not on account of their literature !), and is it observed that they are less efficient than others? Macaulay is an author; J. W. Croker is an author; Charles Buller is an author; Henry Taylor is an author ;these are four men who have filled important government offices, and at the same time were reviewers. We need not mention writers of books; nor the authors who honorably fill subordinate places. In fact, the notion about unfitness is utterly absurd. The real cause is the want of respect which John Bull feels for the profession-the inability he feels to conceive an author otherwise than as lazy, impracticable, and poor. A convincing proof may also be seen in the unwillingness of literary men to own themselves professional authors; they almost all pretend to be barristers or gentlemen at large. An amusing incident happened to the present writer. He went to register the birth of a child. The registrar "I suppose, sir, authors rank as gents ?" His look spoke volumes! entitled to a pension from government as How far distant is that time? RICHTER'S PLAN OF SELF-EDUCATION. The rules To rescue men of letters from the sad necessity of living "from hand to mouth," and to enable them to labor seriously at serious works, without being haunted by the fear of poverty, without being forced to write down to the popular taste, government's best, and indeed only means is, to institute professorships, and open public offices to authors. It has been said, and with some show of justice, that government has no more to do with the remuneration of authorship, than it has with the remuneration of other professions; literature being for the public, the public will pay for its wants. But in this argument one very important point is overlooked. Literature he laid down for himself in the work of self-education are worthy of special notice. First, since lite is is a profession in which the author has not short in comparison with the work to be accomonly to struggle against his brother authors, plished, he aimed at introducing a just economy but also against a host of interlopers. through all his employments, resolving that, as far Authors without engagements cannot step as possible, neither his time nor his labor should be without its use. The present was to be managed, in and eke out their income with a little that he might fairly look to the future for payment of chancery practice, or a bit of common law; interest, increasing after compound ratio. but lawyers without clients can and do step sought for mental food in four principal fields—human life; the works of nature; the "substantial, pure, into the field of literature. Thus the pro-and good" world of books; and last, but before all fessional author is surrounded with rivals, the rest, patient reflection. One-half of the day was not only as hungry as himself, but willing given to writing; the other half was devoted to exand able to work for lower wages, because ercise in the open air, and to thinking. Like our own Wordsworth, he loved the fair face of Nature, they are not, as he is, solely dependent and spent many hours daily in the contemplation of upon literature. As this state of things is her charms, feeling, as he stepped in the free air, as inevitable, it must be evident that some if he were entering some mighty temple. In proseprotection would be more justly bestowed cuting his plan of noting, he formed a series of handbooks of various branches of science; and in upon authors than upon other professions. and one of these-endorsed "Nature"-he entered all That protection should not be pensions, but employment. Pensions there should be, but only for those who are old, or disabled by ill-health. It is ridiculous to name the present amount of the pensions; and somewhat disgraceful has been the bestowment of many of them. Strange that no legislator has the courage to take some step in this direction! No man will deny the claim of a decayed author. The veteran writer, battered in long and hard-fought service-in that service grown old and almost useless, is surely as much VOL. XI. No. I. 5 He the examples that fell within his notice of a superior |