Sir E. B. (now Lord) Lytton, in the memoir which he prefixed to the
collected works of Laman Blanchard, draws the following affecting
picture of that author’s position, after he had parted from an
engagement upon a popular newspaper:--
“For the author there is nothing but his pen, till that and life
are worn to the stump: and then, with good fortune, perhaps on his
death-bed he receives a pension--and equals, it may be, for a few
months, the income of a retired butler! And, so on the sudden loss
of the situation in which he had frittered away his higher and more
delicate genius, in all the drudgery that a party exacts from its
defender of the press, Laman Blanchard was thrown again upon the
world, to shift as he might and subsist as he could. His practice
in periodical writing was now considerable; his versatility was
extreme. He was marked by publishers and editors as a useful
contributor, and so his livelihood was secure. From a variety of
sources thus he contrived, by constant waste of intellect and
strength, to eke out his income, and insinuate rather than force
his place among his contemporary penmen. And uncomplainingly, and
with patient industry, he toiled on, seeming farther and farther
off from the happy leisure, in which ‘the something to verify
promise was to be completed.’ No time had he for profound reading,
for lengthened works, for the mature development of the conceptions
of a charming fancy. He had given hostages to fortune. He had a
wife and four children, and no income but that which he made from
week to week. The grist must be ground, and the wheel revolve. All
the struggle, all the toils, all the weariness of brain, nerve,
and head, which a man undergoes in his career, are imperceptible
even to his friends--almost to himself; he has no time to be ill,
to be fatigued; his spirit has no holiday; it is all school-work.
And thus, generally, we find in such men that the break up of the
constitution seems sudden and unlooked-for. The causes of disease
and decay have been long laid; but they are smothered beneath the
lively appearances of constrained industry and forced excitement.”