Surely, exclaims our Sexagenarian, in continuance of his scraps upon
the subject, I shall find in the Metropolis, booksellers of a different
calibre, men of enlarged minds, liberal ideas, and ample property, who,
even for their own sakes, will be glad to promote literary industry, and
encourage literary talent. To the metropolis he came, and almost the
first person to whom he was introduced was a Dry Bookseller.
He was an extensive publisher on all subjects, and of all parties, from
the most subtle and profound speculations on mathematics and philosophy,
to the humble translation from a French romance.
His own principles were immutable, nor did he take any pains to conceal
them. He was of the old Presbyterian school, and had imbibed its sourest
manners. Yet he was far from wanting benevolence, though he generally
wore a sort of Sardonic grin on his countenance; he often shewed kindness
to needy authors, was not over hard in his bargains with them, and, what
is matter of no trifling importance, would often give them a dinner.
His feelings on the subject of religion, and his political opinions,
may as well be let alone. His principal fault, as far as authors were
concerned, was a sort of reluctance to come to a final settlement, which
on some occasions, of which our friend met with one example, was deferred
to the Greek Calends.
Three different works were published by the S. in conjunction with this
personage. The two first were of no particular interest. They were
proposed on the one part from the _res angusta domi_, and acceded to
on the other, because, from their subjects, they offered a reasonable
probability of being, in some degree, successful.
This publisher had a peculiar way of expressing his decided and
peremptory rejection of any work proposed to him, and this was by one of
those Sardonic grins above-mentioned, which was succeeded by a sort of
sneering laugh. It was not necessary, indeed it would have been perfectly
useless, to have urged the matter further. He would hardly condescend to
assign motives; this was the sign of his condemnation. He was an honest
man; there was a consistency in his principles and conduct which claimed
respect. In adherence to these he was exposed to losses, great personal
sacrifices, and personal sufferings. But on this subject enough has been
said. Let us turn now to the FINICAL BOOKSELLER.
Finical he certainly was and very finical too, but he had many good
points about him, and independent of the peculiar interests of his
profession, had a taste for literature, and a friendly disposition
towards literary men. Unluckily he had _a bit of blood_ in him, and
the consciousness of this rare distinction elevated him somewhat above
THE TRADE, among whom, however, he possessed a considerable influence
and ascendency. Our friend formed a connection with him, of no mean
importance, nor does he appear to have had any just cause of complaint,
either with respect to his sagacity or liberality. On the occasion
of their first introduction to each other, our bookseller appears
to have given demonstrative testimony of both the above qualities.
The undertaking proposed to his consideration, was one of no very
limited extent, requiring, on the part of the author, continued labour
and perseverance, and promising the publisher a tardy sale, remote
advantages, and requiring, moreover, the immediate advance of no small
sum of money.
In behalf of the publisher’s liberality it may be more immediately
and forcibly urged, that the author was at that time an obscure,
unpatronized, young man, who had given no remarkable testimony of more
than common learning, and ordinary abilities. Nevertheless a mutual
confidence was inspired, and the work proceeded to its successful
conclusion. Till this conclusion there was no interruption of that
harmony and friendship, with which the undertaking was commenced; but
on this occasion the poor author, for the first time, experienced
that though _self_ might be a very honest fellow, ready to fulfil his
engagements to the very letter, “partner and self” made a prodigious
alteration in the matter, and threatened the compact with premature
dissolution.
This same partner had not been regularly bred to the business, and indeed
knew but little of the matter, but he had the money; and though he
expressed the most complacent satisfaction with the undertaking itself,
and great confidence in its successful execution, when he found that it
must of necessity be extended beyond the limits originally proposed,
he took, or pretended to take alarm, and to understand that the sum
first agreed upon, was to cover all damages; in other words, that the
poor author was to receive no compensation for his extra labour on two
additional volumes. The matter was, however, compromised, and the parties
brought their _opus magnum_ to a desirable termination.
Let it not by any means be understood, that by the epithet Finical, as
here applied, any disrespect is intended, or unkind feeling indulged,
with respect to the individual thus imperfectly delineated. His coxcombry
was of a very harmless kind, and consisted principally in his adroit
and whimsical exercise of his snuff-box. It was observed on particular
occasions, in his fondness of conversing about his family, and above all,
in his assumed consequential importance and gestures, when any thing very
rare and choice passed through his hand, which indeed was often the case.
Come we now to the OPULENT Bookseller.—Our friend’s connection with this
personage was but slight, and rather amounting to a skirmish about terms,
than to any serious engagement. The house of which this bookseller was
the head, had been singularly fortunate in their purchases of copy-right,
and there were certain books of which they were the sole proprietors,
and of which a large impression was annually called for, and which thus
entailed a perpetual and hereditary opulence upon the establishment.
Among the authors, of whose works they were the publishers, were numbers
of the Great, and Rich, and Powerful, from many of whom they had obtained
the reputation of being very liberal. But let it be remembered, that
the sum which appears considerable, when paid as a remuneration to Noble
or Episcopal gentlemen, who write for amusement only, becomes relatively
small, when apportioned to an author by profession, whose comforts and
conveniences of life are obtained principally by the labour of his brains.
With this latter description of writers, this opulent personage had a
great deal more to do, and with such he invariably attempted to drive a
hard bargain. Our friend once, it appears, was about to enter into an
engagement with him, of no inconsiderable magnitude: great labour and
perseverance were required on one part, with the employment of three
years at least, whilst a scanty and parsimonious remuneration was held
out by the other. However, as the intellectual powers were then in full
vigour, the ardour of literary ambition progressively increasing, and
what perhaps had no small weight, a number of little people incessantly
crying out for “Crowdy,” the terms, though hard, were acceded to. A
professional gentleman was employed to draw up the agreement, and a
time was fixed for the signatures of the different parties. But when
the agreement was produced, the reader may guess the Sexagenarian’s
astonishment, at perceiving a clause of which no warning had been given,
purporting, that if any other publication, or rather translation, of the
same work, should appear before the final completion and printing of the
present, then the agreement was to be null and void.
A most notable example of liberality truly! A poor author was to beat
his brains, confine himself to one arduous labour for two years or more,
and then if a similar work, no matter whence or where, should steal from
its retirement on the eve of the publication of that in question, there
was to be no compensation, acknowledgment, or reward, for so much time
irretrievably lost. It cannot be a matter of wonder, that the poor author
left the worshipful bookseller in disgust, (for worshipful he afterwards
became) and never afterwards sought a renewal of his acquaintance.
It may perhaps in some degree satisfy the reader’s curiosity, to be
informed, that what was thus prudently guarded against by this cautious
man of wealth, actually took place. In the course of the two years which
immediately succeeded, a precisely similar work had silently advanced
to its accomplishment, and was suddenly and unexpectedly announced.
Whether this would have superseded the necessity of the other, or have
claimed a larger share of public approbation, is a matter which cannot be
determined.
Non existimavi me salvo jure nostræ veteris amicitiæ,
multorumque inter nos officiorum, facere posse, ut honori tuo
deessem.
Placet Stoicis suo quamque rem nomine appellare.
Faithful found
Among the faithless.