The King's Own Part 25

"Indeed I do not, sir. I have no ambition to be an author."

The clerk, who was very taciturn in general, and seldom spoke unless on points connected with his duty, joined the conversation by addressing the surgeon.

"It's a service of danger, sir, and you must be prepared to meet the attacks both of authors and reviewers."

"Of reviewers I can imagine," replied Macallan; "but why of authors?"

"That depends very much whether you tread over beaten ground, or strike into a new path. In the latter case you will be pretty safe from both, as the authors will be _indifferent_ and the reviewers, in all probability, _incapable_."

"And why, if I enter upon a beaten track, which, I presume, infers a style of writing in which others have preceded me?"

"Because, sir, when a new author makes his appearance, he is much in the same situation as a strange dog entering a kennel preoccupied by many others. He is immediately attacked and worried by the rest, until, either by boldly defending himself or pertinaciously refusing to quit, he eventually obtains a domiciliation, and becomes an acknowledged member of the fraternity."

"Why, Mr Collier," observed the captain, "you seem to be quite _au fait_ as to literary arrangements."

"I ought to be, sir," replied the clerk, "for in the course of my life I have attempted to become an author, and practised as a reviewer."

"Indeed! And did you fail in your attempt at authors.h.i.+p?"

"My work was never printed, sir, for no bookseller would undertake to publish it. I tried the whole town; no man would give himself the trouble to look over the MS. It was said that the public taste was not that way, and that it would not do. At last I received a letter of introduction from an old acquaintance to his uncle, who was a literary character. He certainly did read some parts of my performance."

"And what then?"

"Why, sir, he shook his head--told me with a sneer that, as an author, I should never succeed; but he added, with a sort of encouraging smile, that, from some parts of the MS which he had perused, he thought that he could find employment for me in the reviewing line, if I chose to undertake it."

"My pride was hurt, and I answered that I could not agree with him, as I considered that it required the ability to write a book yourself to enable you to decide upon the merits of others."

"Well, I must say that I agree with you," replied the captain. "Proceed in your story, for I am interested."

"My friend answered,--'By no means, my dear sir; a _d.a.m.ned bad author_ generally makes a _very good reviewer_. Indeed, sir, to be candid with you, I never allow any gentleman to review for me, unless he has met with a misfortune similar to yours. It is one of the necessary qualifications of a good reviewer that he should have failed as an author; for without the exacerbated feelings arising from disappointment, he would not possess gall sufficient for his task, and his conscience would stand in his way when he was writing against it, if he were not spurred on by the keen probes of envy.'"

"And he convinced you?"

"My poverty did, sir, if he did not. I worked many months for him; but I had better have earned my bread as a common labourer."

"Reviews ought to pay well, too," observed Macallan; "they are periodicals in great demand."

"They are so," replied Captain M---; "and the reasons are obvious. Few people take the trouble to think for themselves; but, on the contrary, are very glad to find others who will think for them. Some cannot find time to read--others will not find it. A review removes all these difficulties--gives the busy world an insight into what is going on in the literary world--and enables the lounger not to appear wholly ignorant of a work, the merits of which may happen to be discussed. But what is the consequence? That seven-eighths of the town are led by the nose by this or that periodical work, having wholly lost sight of the fact, that reviews are far from being gospel. Indeed, I do not know any set of men so likely to err as reviewers. In the first place, there is no cla.s.s of people so irascible, so full of party feeling, so disgraced by envy, as authors; hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness seem to preside over science. Their political opinions step in, and increase the undue preponderance; and, to crown all, they are more influenced by money, being proverbially more in want of it than others. How, then, is it to be expected that reviews can be impartial? I seldom read them myself as I consider that it is better to know nothing than to be misled."

"And, if it is a fair question, Mr Collier," continued Captain M---, "in what manner were you employed?"

"I am almost ashamed to tell you, sir--I was a mere automaton, a machine, in the hands of others. A new publication was sent to me, with a private mark from my employer, directing the quantum of praise or censure which it was to incur. If the former were allotted to it, the best pa.s.sages were selected; if condemned to the latter, all the worst.

The connecting parts of the review were made up from a commonplace book, in which, by turning to any subject, you found the general heads and extracts from the works of others, which you were directed to alter, so as to retain the ideas, but disguise the style, that it might appear original."

"Are you aware of the grounds of praise or abuse?--for it appears that those who directed the censure did not read the publications?"

"The grounds were various. Books printed by a bookseller, to whom my master had a dislike, were sure to be run down; on the contrary, those published by his connections or friends were as much applauded.

Moreover, the influence of authors, who were afraid of a successful rival in their own line often d.a.m.ned a work."

"But you do not mean to say that all reviews are conducted with such want of principle?"

"By no means. There are many very impartial and clever critiques. The misfortune is, that unless you read the work that is reviewed, you cannot distinguish one from the other."

"And pray what induced you to abandon this creditable employment?"

"A quarrel, sir. I had reviewed a work, with the private mark of approval, when it was found out to be a mistake, and I was desired to review it with censure. I expected to be paid for the second review as well as for the first. My employer thought proper to consider it all as one job, and refused--so we parted."

"Pretty tricks in trade, indeed!" replied Captain M---. "Why, Mr Collier, you appear to have belonged to a gang of literary bravos, whose pens, like stilettoes, were always ready to stab, in the dark, the unfortunate individuals who might be pointed out to them by interest or revenge."

"I acknowledge the justice of your remark, sir; all that I can offer in my defence is, the excuse of the libeller to Cardinal Richelieu--'_Il faut vivre, monsieur_.'"

"And I answer you, with the Cardinal--'_Je ne vois pas la necessite_,'"

replied Captain M---, with a smile, as he rose to resume his labours.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

He fell, and, deadly pale, Groaned out his soul.

MILTON.

"Do, mamma, come here," said Emily, as she was looking out of the window of an inn on the road, where they had stopped to take some refreshment--"do come, and see what a pretty lady is in the chariot which has stopped at the door."

Mrs Rainscourt complied with her daughter's request, and acknowledged the justice of the remark when she saw the expressive countenance of Susan (now Mrs McElvina), who was listening to the proposal of her husband that they should alight and partake of some refreshment. Susan consented, and was followed by old Hornblow, who, pulling out his watch from his white ca.s.simere _femoralia_, which he had continued to wear ever since the day of the wedding, declared that they must stop to dine.

"This country air makes one confoundedly hungry," said the old man; "I declare I never had such an appet.i.te in Cateaton-street. Susan, my dear, order something that won't take long in cooking--a beef-steak, if they have nothing down at the fire."

Mrs Rainscourt, who was as much prepossessed with the appearance of McElvina as with that of his wife, gave vent to her thoughts with "I wonder who they are!" Her maid, who was in the room, took this as a hint to obtain the gratification of her mistress's curiosity as well as her own, and proceeded accordingly on her voyage of discovery. In a few minutes she returned, having boarded the Abigail of Mrs McElvina just as she was coming to an anchor inside the bar; and, having made an interchange of intelligence, with a rapidity incredible to those who are not aware of the velocity of communication between this description of people, re-entered the parlour, to make a report to her commanding officer, precisely at the same moment that Susan's maid was delivering her cargo of intelligence to her own mistress.

"They are a new-married couple, ma'am, and their name is McElvina," said the one.

"The lady is a Mrs Rainscourt, and the young lady is her daughter, and a great heiress," whispered the other.

"They have purchased the hunting box close to the --- Hall, and are going there now," said the first.

"They live at the great park, close to where you are going, ma'am," said the second.

"The old gentleman's name is Hornblow. He is the lady's father, and as rich as a Jew, they say," continued Mrs Rainscourt's maid.

"Mrs Rainscourt don't live with her husband, ma'am; by all accounts he's a bad 'un," continued the Abigail of Susan.

The publicity of the staircase of an hotel is very convenient for making an acquaintance; and it happened that, just after these communications had been made, Emily was ascending the stairs as Mrs McElvina was going down to join her husband and father at the dinner table. The smiling face and beaming eyes of Emily, who evidently lingered to be spoken to, were so engaging that she soon found her way into the room which the McElvinas were occupying.

Mrs Rainscourt was not sorry to find that she was to have for neighbours a couple whose appearance had so prepossessed her in their favour. As she expected that her society would be rather confined, she did not suffer to escape the favourable opportunity which presented itself of making their acquaintance. As they were returning to their vehicles, Emily ran to Mrs McElvina to wish her good-bye, and Mrs Rainscourt expressed her thanks for the notice they had taken of her daughter. A few minutes' conversation ended in "hoping to have the pleasure of making their acquaintance as soon as they were settled."

The carriages drove off; and we shall follow that of the McElvinas, which arrived at its destination late in the evening, without any accident.

The cottage-ornee (as all middle-sized houses with verandas and French windows are now designated), which Hornblow had purchased, was, for a wonder, quite as complete as described in the particulars of sale. It had the sloping lawn in front; the three acres (more or less) of plantation and pleasure ground, tastefully laid out, and planted with thriving young trees; the capital walled gardens, stocked with the choicest fruit trees, in full bearing; abundant springs of the finest water; stabling for six horses; cow-house, cart-house, farm-yard, and _complete piggery_. The dimensions of the conservatory, and rooms in the interior of the house were quite correct; and the land attached to it was according to "the accompanying plan," and divided into parcels, designated by the rural terms of "Homestead," "Lob's-pound,"

"Eight-acre-meadow," "Little-orchard field," etcetera, etcetera.