desolation of the soul while falling into the grave fessor of Universal History-but from some point opening at his feet. of etiquette he failed in obtaining that distinguished office. The town was once amused almost every morning by a series of humorous or burlesque poems by a writer under the assumed name of Matthew Bramble—he was at that very moment one of the most moving spectacles of human melancholy I have ever witnessed. It was one evening I saw a tall, famished, melancholy man enter a bookseller's shop, his hat flapped over his eyes, and his whole frame evidently feeble from exhaustion and utter misery. The bookseller inquired how he proceeded in his new tragedy. "Do not talk to me about my tragedy! Do not talk to me about my tragedy! I have indeed more tragedy than I can bear at home!" was the reply, and the voice faltered as he spoke. This man was Matthew Bramble, or rather -M'DONALD, the author of the tragedy of Vimonda, at that moment the writer of comic poetry -his tragedy was indeed a domestic one, in which he himself was the greatest actor amid his disconsolate family; he shortly afterwards perished. M'Donald had walked from Scotland with no other fortune than the novel of "The Independent" in one pocket, and the tragedy of "Vimonda" in the other. Yet he lived some time in all the bloom and flush of poetical confidence. Vimonda was even performed several nights, but not with the success the romantic poet, among his native rocks, had conceived was to crown his anxious labours-the theatre disappointed him-and afterwards, to his feelings, all the world! LOGAN had the dispositions of a poetic spirit, not cast in a common mould; with fancy he combined learning, and with eloquence philosophy. His claims on our sympathy arise from those circumstances in his life which open the secret sources of the calamities of authors; of those minds of finer temper, who, having tamed the heat of their youth by the patient severity of study, from causes not always difficult to discover, find their favourite objects and their fondest hopes barren and neglected. It is then that the thoughtful melancholy, which constitutes so large a portion of their genius, absorbs and consumes the very faculties to which it gave birth. Logan studied at the University of Edinburgh, was ordained in the church of Scotland-and early distinguished as a poet by the simplicity and the tenderness of his verses, yet the philosophy of history had as deeply interested his studies. He gave two courses of lectures. I have heard from his pupils their admiration, after the lapse of many years; so striking were those lectures for having successfully applied the science of moral philosophy to the history of nations. All wished that Logan should obtain the chair of the Pro This was his first disappointment in life, yet then perhaps but lightly felt; for the public had approved of his poems, and a successful poet is easily consoled. Poetry to such a gentle being seems a universal specific for all the evils of life; it acts at the moment, exhausting and destroying too often the constitution it seems to restore. He had finished the tragedy of "Runnymede;" it was accepted at Covent-garden, but interdicted by the Lord Chamberlain, from some suspicion that its lofty sentiments contained allusions to the politics of the day. The Barons-in-arms who met John, were conceived to be deeper politicians than the poet himself was aware of. This was the second disappointment in the life of this man of genius. The third calamity was the natural consequence of a tragic poet being also a Scotch clergyman. Logan had inflicted a wound on the Presbytery, heirs of the genius of old Prynne, whose puritanic fanaticism had never forgiven Home for his "Douglas," and now groaned to detect genius still lurking among them. Logan, it is certain, expressed his contempt for them; they their hatred of him: folly and pride in a poet, to beard Presbyters in a land of Presbyterians! He gladly abandoned them, retiring on a small annuity. They had, however, hurt his temperthey had irritated the nervous system of a man too susceptible of all impressions, gentle or unkind-his character had all those unequal habitudes which genius contracts in its boldness and its tremors; he was now vivacious and indignant, and now fretted and melancholy. He flew to the metropolis, occupied himself in literature, and was a frequent contributor to the "English Review." He published "A Review of the Principal Charges against Mr. Hastings." Logan wrestled with the genius of Burke and Sheridan ; the House of Commons ordered the publisher Stockdale to be prosecuted, but the author did not live to rejoice in the victory obtained by his genius. This elegant philosopher has impressed on all his works the seal of genius; and his posthumous compositions became even popular; he who had with difficulty escaped excommunication by Presbyters, left the world after his death two volumes of sermons, which breathe all that piety, morality, and eloquence admire. His unrevised lectures, published under the name of a person, one Rutherford, who had purchased the MS., were given to the world in "A View of Ancient History." But one highly-finished composition he had himself published; it is a philosophical review of Despotism: had the name of Gibbon been affixed to the title-page, its authenticity had not been ginal, stated his history to the Literary Fund. It suspected *. was written in a moment of extreme bodily suffering and mental agony. In the house to which he had been burried for debt-at such a moment, he found eloquence in a narrative, pathetic from its simplicity, and valuable for its genuineness, as giving the results of a life of literary industry, productive of great infelicity and disgrace; one would imagine that the author had been a criminal rather than a man of letters. From one of his executors, Dr. Donald Grant, who wrote the life prefixed to his poems, I heard of the state of his numerous MSS.; the scattered yet warm embers of the unhappy bard. Several tragedies, and one on Mary Queen of Scots, abounding with all that domestic tenderness and poetic sensibility which formed the soft and natural feature of his muse; these, with minor poems, thirty lectures on the Roman History, and portions of a periodical paper, were the" The Case of a Man of Letters, of regular eduwrecks of genius! He resided here, little known out of a very private circle, and perished in his fortieth year, not of penury, but of a broken heart. Such noble and well-founded expectations of fortune and fame, all the plans of literary ambition overturned, his genius, with all its delicacy, its spirit, and its elegance, became a prey to that melancholy which constituted so large a portion of it. Logan, in his "Ode to a Man of Letters," had formed this lofty conception of a great author: "Won from neglected wastes of time, The provinces of mind; An Egypt with eternal towers † ; No tame remission genius knows, No interval of dark repose, To quench the ethereal flame; In varied paths to Fame." Our children will long repeat his "Ode to the Cuckoo," one of the most lovely poems in our language; magical stanzas of picture, melody, and sentiment. These authors were undoubtedly men of finer feelings, who all perished immaturely, victims in the higher department of literature! But this article would not be complete without furnishing the reader with a picture of the fate of one, who, with a pertinacity of industry not common, having undergone regular studies, not very injudiciously deemed that the life of a man of letters could provide for the simple wants of a philosopher. This man was the late ROBERT HERON, who, in the following letter, transcribed from the ori * This admirable little work is entitled, "A Dissertation on the Governments, Manners, and Spirit of Asia; Murray, 1787." It is anonymous; but the publisher informed me it was written by Logan. His "Elements of the Philosophy of History" are valuable. His "Sermons" have been republished. cation, living by honest literary industry. "Ever since I was eleven years of age I have mingled with my studies the labour of teaching or of writing, to support and educate myself. "During about twenty years, while I was in constant or occasional attendance at the University of Edinburgh, I taught and assisted young persons, at all periods, in the course of education; from the Alphabet to the highest branches of Science and Literature. "I read a course of Lectures on the Law of Nature, the Law of Nations, the Jewish, the Grecian, the Roman, and the Canon Law, and then on the Feudal Law; and on the several forms of Municipal Jurisprudence established in Modern Europe. I printed a Syllabus of these Lectures, which was approved. They were intended as introductory to the professional study of Law, and to assist gentlemen who did not study it professionally, in the understanding of History.. "I translated Fourcroy's Chemistry twice, from both the second and the third editions of the original; Fourcroy's Philosophy of Chemistry; Savary's Travels in Greece; Dumourier's Letters; Gessner's Idylls in part; an abstract of Zimmerman on Solitude, and a great diversity of smaller pieces. I wrote a Journey through the Western Parts of Scotland, which has passed through two edi. tions; a History of Scotland in six volumes 8vo; a Topographical Account of Scotland, which has been several times reprinted; a number of communications in the Edinburgh Magazine; many Prefaces and Critiques; a Memoir of the life of Burns the Poet, which suggested and promoted the subscription for his family; has been many times reprinted, and formed the basis of Dr. Currie's Life of him, as I learned by a letter from the Doctor to one of his friends; a variety of Jeux d'Esprit in verse and prose; and many abridgments of large works. "In the beginning of 1799 I was encouraged to come to London. Here I have written a + The finest provinces of Egypt gained from a neglected great multiplicity of articles in almost every waste. branch of science and literature; my education at Edinburgh having comprehended them all. The London Review, the Agricultural Magazine, the Anti-jacobin Review, the Monthly Magazine, the Universal Magazine, the Public Characters, the Annual Necrology, with several other periodical works, contain many of my communications. In such of those publications as have been reviewed, I can show that my anonymous pieces have been distinguished with very high praise. I have written also a short system of Chemistry in one volume 8vo; and I published a few weeks since a small work called "Comforts of Life," of which the first edition was sold in one week, and the second edition is now in rapid sale. of his mind, in protracted and incessant literary labours." About three months after, Heron sunk under a fever, and perished amid the walls of Newgate. We are disgusted with this horrid state of pauperism; we are indignant at beholding an author, not a contemptible one, in this last stage of human wretchedness! after early and late studies, after having read and written from twelve to sixteen hours a day!-O, ye populace of scribblers! before ye are driven to a garret, and your eyes are filled with constant tears, pause-recollect that few of you possess the learning or the abilities of Heron. "In the Newspapers-the Oracle, the Porcupine when it existed, the General Evening Post, the Morning Post, the British Press, the Courier, &c., I have published many Reports of themselves from a degrading state of poverty. Debates in Parliament, and, I believe, a 'greater variety of light fugitive pieces than I know to have been written by any one other person. The fate of Heron-is the fate of hundreds of authors by profession in the present day; of men of some literary talent, who can never extricate "I have written also a variety of compositions in the Latin and the French languages, in favour of which I have been honoured with the testimonies of liberal approbation. LABORIOUS AUTHORS. THIS is one of the groans of old BURTON Over his laborious work, when he is anticipating the reception it is like to meet with, and personates his objectors :-He says, "This is a thinge of meere industrie; a collecItion without wit or invention; a very toy!-So men are valued! their labours vilified by fellowes of no worth themselves, as things of nought; who could not have done as much?" "I have invariably written to serve the cause of religion, morality, pious christian education, and good order, in the most direct manner. have considered what I have written as mere trifles; and have incessantly studied to qualify myself for something better. I can prove that I have, for many years, read and written, one day with another, from twelve to sixteen hours a day. As a human being, I have not been free from follies and errors. But the tenor of my life has been temperate, laborious, humble, quiet, and, to the utmost of my power, beneficent. I can prove the general tenor of my writings to have been candid, and ever adapted to exhibit the most favourable views of the abilities, dispositions, and exertions of others. "For these last ten months I have been brought to the very extremity of bodily and pecuniary distress. There is, indeed, a class of authors who are liable to forfeit all claims to genius, whatever their genius may be-these are the laborious writers of voluminous works; but they are farther subject to heavier grievances, to be undervalued or neglected by the apathy or the ingratitude of the public. Industry is often conceived to betray the absence of intellectual exertion, and the magnitude of a work is imagined necessarily to shut out all genius. Yet a laborious work has often had an original growth and raciness in it, requiring a genius whose peculiar feeling, like invisible vitality, "I shudder at the thought of perishing in a is spread through the mighty body. Feeble imi jail. "92 Chancery-lane, "Feb. 2, 1807. (In confinement.)" The physicians reported that Robert Heron's health was such as rendered him totally incapable of extricating himself from the difficulties in which he was involved, by the indiscreet exertion • "The Comforts of Life" were written in prison; "The Miseries" necessarily in a drawing-room. The works of authors are often in contrast with themselves; melancholy authors are the most jocular, and the most humorous the most melancholy. tations of such laborious works have proved the master's mind that is in the original. There is a talent in industry, which every industrious man does not possess; and even taste and imagination may lead to the deepest studies of antiquities, as well as mere undiscerning curiosity and plodding dulness. But there are other more striking characteristics of intellectual feeling in authors of this class. The fortitude of mind which enables them to complete labours of which, in many instances, they are conscious that the real value will only be appreciated by dispassionate posterity, themselves rarely rare, curious, and high priced! Ungrateful public! Unhappy authors! That noble enthusiasm which so strongly characterises genius, in productions whose originality is of a less ambiguous nature, has been experienced by some of these laborious authors, who have sacrificed their lives and fortunes to their beloved studies. The enthusiasm of literature has often been that of heroism, and many have not shrunk from the forlorn hope. living to witness the fame of their own work established; while they endure the captiousness of malicious cavillers. It is said that the Optics of NEWTON had no character or credit here till noticed in France. It would not be the only instance of an author writing above his own age, and anticipating its more advanced genius. How many works of erudition might be adduced to show their authors' disappointments! PRIDEAUX's learned work of the "Connexion of the Old and New Testament," and SHUCKFORD's similar one, were RUSHWORTH and RYMER, to whose collections both a long while before they could obtain a pub- our history stands so deeply indebted, must have lisher, and much longer before they found readers. strongly felt this literary ardour, for they passed It is said Sir WALTER RALEIGH burned the second their lives in forming them; till Rymer, in the volume of his History from the ill success the first utmost distress, was obliged to sell his books and had met with. PRINCE'S "Worthies of Devon" his fifty volumes of MSS. which he could not get was so unfavourably received by the public, that printed; and Rushworth died in the King's Bench, the laborious and patriotic author was so discou- of a broken heart; many of his papers still remain raged as not to print the second volume, which is unpublished. His ruling passion was amassing said to have been prepared for the press.-FARNE-state matters, and he voluntarily neglected great WORTH's elaborate Translation, with notes and opportunities of acquiring a large fortune for this dissertations, of Machiavel's Works, was hawked entire devotion of his life. The same fate has about the town; and the poor author discovered awaited the similar labours of many authors to that he understood Machiavel better than the whom the history of our country lies under deep public. After other labours of this kind, he left obligations. ARTHUR COLLINS, the historiographer his family in distressed circumstances.-Observe, of our Peerage, and the curious collector of the this excellent book now bears a high price!-The valuable "Sydney papers," and other collections, fate of the "Biographia Britannica," in its first passed his life in rescuing these wrecks of antiquity, edition, must be noticed: the spirit and acuteness in giving authenticity to our history, or contriof CAMPBELL, the curious industry of OLDYS, and buting fresh materials to it; but his midnight the united labours of very able writers, could not vigils were cheered by no patronage, nor his secure public favour; this treasure of our literary labours valued, till the eye that pored on the history was on the point of being suspended, when mutilated MS. was for ever closed. Of all those a poem by Gilbert West drew the public attention curious works of the late Mr. STRUTT, which are to that elaborate work, which, however, still now bearing such high prices, all were produced languished, and was hastily concluded.-GRANGER by extensive reading, and illustrated by his own says of his admirable work, in one of his letters, drawings, from the manuscripts of different epochs "On a fair state of my account, it would appear in our history. What was the result to that ingethat my labours in the improvement of my work nious artist and author, who, under the plain do not amount to half the pay of a scavenger!" simplicity of an antiquary, concealed a fine poetical He received only one hundred pounds to the times mind, and an enthusiasm for his beloved pursuits of Charles I., and the rest to depend on public to which only we are indebted for them? Strutt, favour for the continuation. The sale was sluggish; living in the greatest obscurity, and voluntarily even Walpole seemed doubtful of its success, sacrificing all the ordinary views of life, and the though he probably secretly envied the skill of our trade of his burin, solely attached to national portrait-painter. It was too philosophical for the antiquities, and charmed by calling them into a mere collector, and it took near ten years before fresh existence under his pencil, I have witnessed it reached the hands of philosophers; the author at the British Museum, forgetting for whole days derived little profit, and never lived to see its his miseries, in sedulous research and delightful popularity established! We have had many highly labour; at times even doubtful whether he could valuable works suspended for their want of public get his works printed; for some of which he was patronage, to the utter disappointment, and some. not regaled even with the Roman supper of "a times the ruin of their authors; such are OLDYS's radish and an egg." How he left his domestic "British Librarian," MORGAN'S "Phoenix Bri- affairs, his son can tell; how his works have tripled tannicus," Dr. BERKENHOUT'S "Biographia Lite- their value, the booksellers. In writing on the raria," Professor MARTYN's and Dr. LETTICE'S Calamities attending the love of literary labour, Antiquities of Herculaneum :" all these are first | Mr. JOHN NICHOLS, the modest annalist of the volumes, there are no seconds! They are now literary history of the last century, and the friend 44 of half the departed genius of our country, cannot but occur to me. He zealously published more than fifty works, illustrating the literature and the antiquities of the country; labours not given to the world without great sacrifices. Bishop Hurd, with friendly solicitude, writes to Mr. Nichols on some of his own publications, "While you are enriching the Antiquarian world" (and, by the Life of Bowyer, may be added the Literary), 'I hope you do not forget yourself. The profession of an author, I know from experience, is not a lucrative one.-I only mention this because I see a large catalogue of your publications." At another time the Bishop writes, "You are very good to excuse my freedom with you; but, as times go, almost any trade is better than that of an author," &c. On these notes Mr. Nichols confesses, "I have had some occasion to regret that I did not attend to the judicious suggestions." We owe to the late THOMAS DAVIES, the author of "Garrick's Life," and other literary works, beautiful editions of some of our elder poets, which are now eagerly sought after, yet, though all his publications were of the best kinds, and are now of increasing value, the taste of Tom Davies twice ended in bankruptcy. It is to be lamented for the cause of literature, that even a bookseller may have too refined a taste for his trade; it must always be his interest to float on the current of public taste, whatever that may be; should he have an ambition to create it, he will be anticipating a more cultivated curiosity by half a century; thus the business of a bookseller rarely accords with the design of advancing our literature. The works of literature, it is then but too evident, receive no equivalent; let this be recollected by him who would draw his existence from them. A young writer often resembles that imaginary author whom Johnson, in a humorous letter in the Idler (No. 55), represents as having composed a work "of universal curiosity, computed that it would call for many editions of his book, and that in five years he should gain fifteen thousand pounds by the sale of thirty thousand copies." There are, indeed, some who have been dazzled by the good fortune of GIBBON, ROBERTSON, and HUME; we are to consider these favourites, not merely as authors, but as possessing, by their situation in life, a certain independence which preserved them from the vexations of the authors I have noticed. Observe, however, that the uncommon sum Gibbon received for copyright, though it excited the astonishment of the philosopher himself, was for the continued labour of a whole life, and probably the library he had purchased for his work equalled at least in cost the produce of his pen; the tools cost the workman as much as he obtained for his work. Six thousand pounds gained on these terms will keep an author indigent ! Many great labours have been designed by their authors, even to be posthumous, prompted only by their love of study, and a patriotic zeal. Bishop KENNETT's stupendous "Register and Chronicle," volume I., is one of those astonishing labours, which could only have been produced by the pleasure of study urged by the strong love of posterity. It is a diary in which the bishop, one of our most studious and active authors, has recorded every matter of fact, "delivered in the words of the most authentic books, papers, and records." The design was to preserve our literary history from the Restoration. This silent labour he had been pursuing all his life, and published the first volume in his sixty-eighth year, the very year he died. But he was so sensible of the coyness of the public taste for what he calls in a letter to a literary friend, a tedious heavy book," that he gave it away to the publisher. "The volume, too large, brings me no profit. In good truth, the scheme was laid for conscience' sake, to restore a good old principle that history should be purely matter of fact, that every reader, by examining and comparing, may make out a history by his own judgment. I have collections transcribed for another volume, if the bookseller will run the hazard of printing." This volume has never appeared, and the bookseller probably lost a considerable sum by the one published, which valuable volume is now procured with difficulty*. These laborious authors have commenced their literary life with a glowing ardour, though the feelings of genius have been obstructed by those numerous causes which occur too frequently in the life of a literary man. Let us listen to STRUTT, whom we have just noticed, and let us learn what he proposed doing, in the first age of fancy. Having obtained the first gold medal ever given at the Royal Academy, he writes to his mother, and thus thanks her and his friends for their deep interest in his success :— “I will at least strive to the utmost, to give my benefactors no reason to think their pains thrown away. If I should not be able to abound in riches, yet, by God's help, I will strive to pluck that palm which the greatest artists of foregoing ages have done before me; I will strive to leave my name behind me in the world, if not in the splendour that some have, at least with some marks of assiduity and study; which, I can assure you, shall never be wanting in me. Who can bear to hear the names of Raphael, Titian, Michael Angelo, See Bishop Kennet's letter in Nichols's "Life of Bowyer," vol. i. p. 383. |