Young men just starting out in life nowadays, who find the path to
success difficult, are more fortunate than some of those who struggled
with hard times a century or more ago, because they are determined to
make a self-respecting fight on their own merits. It was not always so;
once nothing was thought of the effort made by an impecunious young man
to throw himself on the generosity of one who had already achieved
success. Then it was a habit of many authors to seek as a patron a man
of influence and means who would help them live till their books were
ready for the publisher, and then help to get the books before the
public.
From letters of George Crabbe, a poet of some note in his century,
asking Edmund Burke to become his patron, something of his story may be
known. As a boy he was apprenticed to an apothecary; later he was
proprietor of a small shop of his own. Business, neglected for books and
writing, did not prosper. With his sister, his housekeeper, he "fasted
with much fortitude." Then he went to London, with a capital of nine
pounds, and starved some more. Months were spent in trying to enlist
two patrons. At last, threatened with a prison for debt, he decided to
try a third patron; and this was his procedure, as he himself described
it:
"I looked as well as I could into every character that offered itself to
my view, and resolved to apply where I found the most shining abilities,
for I had learnt to distrust the humanity of weak people in all
stations."
So he wrote to Edmund Burke, telling him that he could no longer be
content to live in the home of poor people, who had kept him for nearly
a year, and had lent him money for his current expenses. Describing
himself as "one of those outcasts on the world, who are without a
friend, without employment and without bread," he told of his vain
appeal to another for gold to save him from prison, added that he had
but one week to raise the necessary funds, and made his request.
"I appeal to you, sir, as a good, and, let me add, a great man. I have
no other pretensions to your favor than that I am an unhappy one. It is
not easy to support thoughts of confinement, and I am coward enough to
dread such an end to my suspense ... I will call upon you, sir,
to-morrow, and if I have not the happiness to obtain credit with you I
must submit to my fate ... I have only to hope a speedy end to a life so
unpromisingly begun ... I can reap some consolation in looking to the
end of it."
The appeal was successful. Edmund Burke became Crabbe's patron. The poet
was glad to eat the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table, and
submitted to many unpleasant slights and insinuations while he received
the dole of charity.
That suing thus for a patron did not always have the effect of
destroying an author's self-respect is shown by a letter written by Dr.
Samuel Johnson to Lord Chesterfield. When, after years of hard labor,
Dr. Johnson's dictionary was known to be ready for publication, Lord
Chesterfield wrote for "The World" two flattering articles about the
author, evidently thinking that the work would be dedicated to him. At
once Dr. Johnson wrote:
"My Lord: When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your
lordship, I ... could not forbear to wish ... that I might obtain that
regard for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance
so little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to
continue it....
"Seven years, my lord, have passed since I waited in your outward room,
or was repulsed from your door, during which time I have been pushing on
my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and
have brought it at last to the verge of publication, without one act of
assistance, one word of encouragement or one smile of favor. Such
treatment I did not expect for I never had a patron before.... The
notice which you have been pleased to take of my labor, had it been
early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and
cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am
known, and do not want it.... I have long awakened from that dream of
hope, in which I once boasted myself with so much exultation, my lord,
"Your lordship's most humble, most obedient servant,
"Sam Johnson."
The lapse of a century has brought a change. Self-respecting, courageous
young workers do not seek a patron to help them to fame. To-day they ask
only to fight their own battles, win their own victories.