_A Baconian Essay_
Dec. 26, 1891.
That was a Wittie Invective made by _Montaigny_ upon the _Antipodean_,
Who said they must be Thieves that pulled on their breeches when
Honest Folk were scarce abed. So is it Obnoxious to them that purvey
_Christmas Numbers_, _Annuals_, and the like, that they commonly write
under _Sirius_ his star as it were _Capricornus_, feigning to Scate
and Carol and blow warm upon their Fingers, while yet they might be
culling of Strawberries. And all to this end, that Editors may take
the cake. I know One, the Father of a long Family, that will sit a
whole June night without queeching in a Vessell of Refrigerated Water
till he be Ingaged with hard Ice, that the _Publick_ may be docked no
pennyweight of the Sentiments incident to the _Nativity_. For we be
like Grapes, and goe to Press in August. But methinks these rigours do
postulate a _Robur Corporis_ more than ordinary (whereas 'tis but one
in ten if a Novelist overtop in Physique); and besides will often fail
of the effect. As I _myself_ have asked--the Pseudonym being but
gauze--
"O! Who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?"
Yet sometimes, because some things are in kind very Casuall, which if
they escape prove Excellent (as the man who by Inadvertence inherited
the throne of the _Grand Turk_ with all appertayning) so that the kind
is inferiour, being subject to Perill, but that which is Excellent
being proved superiour, as the Blossom of March and the Blossom of
May, whereof the French verse goeth:--
"Bourgeon de Mars, enfant de Paris;
Si un eschape, il en vaut dix."
--so, as I was saying (till the Mischief infected my Protasis), albeit
the gross of writings will moulder between _St. John's_ feast and _St.
Stephen's_, yet, if one survive, 'tis odds he will prove Money in your
Pocket. Therefore I counsel that you preoccupate and tie him, by
Easter at the latest, to _Forty thousand words_, naming a Figure in
excess: for Operation shrinketh all things, as was observed by
Galenus, who said to his Friend, "I will cut off your Leg, and then
you will be lesse by a Foot." Also you will do well to provide a
_Pictura_ in Chromo-Lithography. For the Glaziers like it, and no harm
done if they blush not: which is easily avoided by making it out of a
little Child and a Puppy-dog, or else a Mother, or some such trivial
Accompaniment. But Phryne marrs all. It was even rashly done of that
Editor who issued a Coloured Plate, calling it "_Phryne Behind the
Areopagus_": for though nothing was Seen, the pillars and Grecian
elders intervening, yet 'twas Felt a great pity. And the Fellow ran
for it, saying flimsily:--
"Populus me sibilat. At mihi plaudo."
Whereas I rather praise the dictum of that other writer, who said, "In
this house I had sooner be turned over on the Drawing-room Table than
roll under that in the Dining-room," meaning to reflect on the wine,
but the Hostess took it for a compliment.
But to speak of the Letter Press. For the Sea you will use Clark
Russell; for the East, Rudyard Kipling; for _Blood_, Haggard; for
neat pastorall Subjects, Thomas Hardy, so he be within Bounds. I
mislike his "Noble Dames." Barrie has a prettier witt; but Besant will
keep in all weathers, and serve as right _Pemmican_. As for conundrums
and poetry, they are but Toys: I have seen as good in crackers; which
we pull, not as meaning to read or guess, but read and guess to cover
the Shame of our Employment. Yet for Conundrums, if you hold the
Answers till your next issue they Raise the Wind among Fools.
He that hath _Wife and Children_ hath given Hostages to _Little
Folks_: he will hardly redeem but by sacrifice of a Christmas Tree.
The learned Poggius, that had twelve Sons and Daughters, used to note
ruefully that he might never escape but by purchase of a _dozen
Annuals_, citing this to prove how greatly Tastes will diverge among
the Extreamely Young, even though they come of the same geniture. So
will Printed Matter multiply faster than our Parents. Yet 'tis
discutable that this phrensy of _Annuals_ groweth staler by
Recurrence. As that Helvetian lamented, whose Cuckoo-clock failed of
a ready Purchaser, and he had to live with it. "_What Again?_" said
he, and "_Surely Spring is not come yet, dash it?_" Also I cannot
stomach that our Authors portend a Severity of Weather unseasonable in
these Muggy Latitudes. I will eat my Hat if for these twenty
Christmasses I have made six Slides worthy the Mention. Yet I know an
Author that had his _Hero and Heroine_ consent together very prettily;
but 'twas in a _Thaw_, and the Editor being stout, the match was
broken off unblessedly, till a Pact was made that it should indeed be
a Thaw, but sufficient only to let the Heroine drop through the Ice
and be Rescewed.
Without _Ghosts_, we twiddle thumbs....