CHAPTER LXII

I read Melopoyn’s Tragedy, and conceive a vast Opinion of his Genius—he

recounts his Adventures

While we ate our breakfast together, I made him acquainted with the

character and condition of the poet, who came in with his play at that

instant, and, imagining we were engaged about business, could not be

prevailed upon to sit; but, leaving his performance, went away. My

friend’s tender heart was melted at the sight of a gentleman and

Christian (for he had a great veneration for both these epithets) in

such misery; and assented with great cheerfulness to a proposal I made

of clothing him with the our superfluities; a task with which he

charged himself, and departed immediately to perform it.

He was no sooner gone than I locked my door, and sat down to the

tragedy; which I read to the end with vast pleasure, not a little

amazed at conduct of the managers who had rejected it. The fable, in my

opinion, was well chosen and naturally conducted, the incidents

interesting, the characters beautifully contrasted, strongly marked,

and well supported; the diction poetical, spirited and correct; the

unities of the drama maintained with the most scrupulous exactness; the

opening gradual and engaging, the peripeteia surprising, and the

catastrophe affecting. In short, I judged it by the laws of Aristotle

and Horace, and could find nothing in it exceptionable but a little too

much embellishment in some few places, which objection he removed to my

satisfaction, by a quotation of Aristotle’s _Poetics_, importing, that

the least interesting parts of a poem ought to be raised and dignified

by the charms and energy of diction.

I revered his genius, and was seized with an eager curiosity to know

the particular events of a fortune so unworthy of his merit. At that

instant Strap returned with a bundle of clothes, which I sent with my

compliments to Mr. Melopoyn, as a small token of my regard, and desired

the favour of his company to dinner. He accepted my present and

invitation, and in less than half-an-hour made his appearance in a

decent dress, which altered his figure very much to his advantage. I

perceived by his countenance that his heart was big with gratitude, and

endeavoured to prevent his acknowledgments, by asking pardon for the

liberty I had taken; he made no reply, but, with an aspect full of

admiration and esteem, bowed to the ground, while the tears gushed from

his eyes. Affected with these symptoms of an ingenuous mind, I shifted

the conversation, and complimented him on his performance, which I

assured him afforded me infinite pleasure. My approbation made him

happy. Dinner being served, and Jackson arrived, I begged their

permission for Strap to sit at table with us, after having informed

them that he was a person to whom I was extremely obliged; they were

kind enough to grant that favour, and we ate together with great

harmony and satisfaction.

Our meal being ended, I expressed my wonder at the little regard Mr.

Melopoyn had met with from the world: and signified a desire of hearing

how he had been treated by the managers of the playhouses, to whom I

understood from Jackson, he had offered his tragedy without success.

“There is so little entertaining in the incidents of my life,” said he,

“that I am sure the recital will not recompense your attention; but,

since you discover an inclination to know them I understand my duty too

well to disappoint your desire.

“My father, who was a curate in the country, being by the narrowness of

his circumstances hindered from maintaining me at the university, took

the charge of my education upon himself, and laboured with such

industry and concern in the undertaking, that I had little cause to

regret the want of public masters. Being at great pains to consult my

natural bias, He discovered in me betimes an inclination for poetry;

upon which he recommended to me an intimate acquaintance with the

classics, in the cultivation of which he assisted me with a paternal

zeal and uncommon erudition. When he thought me sufficiently acquainted

with the ancients, he directed my studies to the best modern authors,

French and Italian as well as English, and laid a particular injunction

upon me make myself master of my mother tongue.

“About the age of eighteen, I grew ambitious of undertaking a work of

some consequence; and, with my father’s approbation, actually planned

the tragedy you have read; but, before I had finished four acts, that

indulgent parent died, and left my mother and me in very indigent

circumstances. A near relation, compassionating our distress, took us

into his family, where I brought my fable to a conclusion; and, soon

after that period my mother quitted this life. When my sorrow for this

melancholy event had subsided, I told my kinsman, who was a farmer,

that, having paid my last duty to my parent, I had now no attachment to

detain me in the country, and therefore was resolved to set out for

London, and offer my play to the stage, where I did not doubt of

acquiring a large share of fame as well as fortune; in which case I

should not be unmindful of my friends and benefactors. My cousin was

ravished with the prospect of my felicity, and willingly contributed

towards the expense of fitting me out for my expedition.

“Accordingly I took a place in the waggon, and arrived in town, where I

hired an apartment in a garret, willing to live as frugally as

possible, until I should know what I had to expect from the manager, to

whom I intended to offer my play. For, though I looked upon myself as

perfectly secure of a good reception, imagining that a patentee would

be as eager to receive as I to present my production, I did not know

whether or not he might be pre-engaged in favour of another author, a

circumstance that would certainly retard my success. On this

consideration, too, I determined to be speedy in my application, and

even to wait upon one of the managers the very next day. For this

purpose, I inquired my landlord if he knew where either or both of them

lived: and he, being curious to know my business, and at the same time

appearing to be a very honest friendly man (a tallow chandler), I made

him acquainted with my design, upon which he told me that I went the

wrong way to work; that I would not find such easy access to a manager

as I imagined; and that if I delivered my performance without proper

recommendation, it would be as one to a thousand if ever it would be

minded. “Take my advice,” said he, “and your business is done. One of

the patentees is a good catholic, as I am, and uses the same father who

confesses me. I will make you acquainted with this good priest, who is

an excellent scholar, and if he should approve of your play, his

recommendation will go a great way in determining Mr. Supple to bring

it on the stage.” I applauded his expedient, and was introduced to the

friar, who, having perused the tragedy, was pleased to signify his

approbation, and commended me in particular for having avoided all

reflections upon religion. He promised to use all his influence with

his son Supple in my behalf, and to inform himself that very day at

what time it was proper for me to wait upon him with the piece. He was

punctual in performing his engagement, and next morning gave me to

understand that he had mentioned my affair to the manager, and that I

had nothing more to do than to go to his house any time in the

forenoon, and make use of his name, upon which I should find immediate

admittance. I took his advice, put my performance in my bosom, and,

having received directions, went immediately to the house of Mr.

Supple, and knocked at the door, which had a wicket in the middle,

faced with a net-work of iron. Through this a servant having viewed me

for some time, demanded to know my business. I told him my business was

with Mr. Supple, and that I came from Mr. O’Varnish. He examined my

appearance once more, then went away, returned in a few minutes, and

said his master was busy, and could not be seen. Although I was a

little mortified at my disappointment, I was persuaded that my

reception was owing to Mr. Supple’s ignorance of my errand: and, that I

might meet with no more obstructions of the same kind, I desired Mr.

O’Varnish to be my introductor the next time. He complied with my

request, and obtained immediate admittance to the manager, who received

me with the utmost civility, and promised to read my play with the

first convenience. By his own appointment I called again in a

fortnight, but he was gone out: I returned in a week after, and the

poor gentleman was extremely ill: I renewed my visit in a fortnight

after that, and he assured me he had been so much fatigued with

business, that he had not been able as yet to read it to an end, but he

would take the first opportunity: and, in the meantime, observed that

what he had yet seen of it was very entertaining. I comforted myself

with this declaration a few weeks longer, at the end of which I

appeared again before his wicket, was let in, and found him laid up

with the gout. I no sooner entered his chamber than, looking at me with

a languishing eye, he said, “Mr. Melopoyn, I’m heartily sorry for an

accident that has happened during my illness. You must know that my

eldest boy, finding your manuscript upon the table in the dining-room,

where I used to read it, carried it into the kitchen, and leaving it

there, a negligent wench of a cook-maid, mistaking it for waste paper,

has expended it but a few leaves in singing fowls upon the spit. But I

hope the misfortune is not irreparable, since, no doubt, you have

several copies.”

“I protest to you, my good friend, Mr. Random, I was extremely shocked

at this information; but the good-natured gentleman seemed to be so

much affected with my misfortune, that I suppressed my concern, and

told him that, although I had not another copy, I should be able to

retrieve the loss by writing another from my memory, which was very

tenacious. You cannot imagine how well pleased Mr. Supple was at this

assurance; he begged I would set about it immediately, and carefully

revolve and recollect every circumstance before I pretended to commit

it to paper, that it might be the same individual play that he had

perused. Encouraged by this injunction, which plainly demonstrated how

much he interested himself in the affair, I tasked my remembrance and

industry, and in three weeks produced the exact image of the former,

which was conveyed to him by my good friend Father O’Varnish, who told

me next day, that Mr. Supple would revise it superficially, in order to

judge of its sameness with the other, and then give his final answer.

For this examination I allotted a week: and, in full confidence of

seeing it acted in a little while, demanded an audience of the manager,

when that term was expired. But, alas! the season had slipped away

insensibly. He convinced me, that if my play had been put into

rehearsal at the time, it could not have been ready for performing

until the end of March, when the benefit nights came on; consequently,

it would have interfered with the interest of the players, whom it was

not my business to disoblige.

“I was fain to acquiesce in these reasons, which, to be sure, were

extremely just; and to reserve my performance for the next season, when

he hoped I would not be so unlucky. Although it was a grievous

disappointment to me, who, by this time, began to want both money and

necessaries; having on the strength of my expectation from the theatre,

launched out into some extravagances, by which the sum I brought to

town was already almost consumed. Indeed, I ought to be ashamed at this

circumstance of my conduct; for my finances were sufficient, with good

economy, to have maintained me comfortably a whole year. You will

perhaps be amazed when I tell you that, in six months, I expended not a

farthing less than ten guineas: but, when one considers the temptations

to which a young man is exposed in this great city, especially if he be

addicted to pleasure, as I am, the wonder will vanish, or at least

abate. Nor was the cause of my concern limited to my own situation

entirely: I had written an account of my good reception to my kinsman

the farmer, and desired him to depend upon me for the money he had

kindly accommodated me with about the end of February, which promise I

now found myself unable to perform. However, there was no remedy but

patience: I applied to my landlord, who was a very good-natured man,

candidly owned my distress, and begged his advice in laying down some

plan for my subsistence; he readily promised to consult his confessor

on this subject, and, in the meantime, told me, I was welcome to lodge

and board with him until fortune should put it in my power to make

restitution.

“Mr. O’Varnish, being informed of my necessity, offered to introduce me

to the author of a weekly paper, who, he did not doubt, would employ me

in that way, provided he should find me duly qualified; but, upon

inquiry, I understood that this journal was calculated to foment

divisions in the commonwealth, and therefore I desired to be excused

from engaging in it. He then proposed that I should write something in

the poetical way, which I might dispose of to a bookseller for a pretty

sum of ready money, and, perhaps, establish my own character into the

bargain. This event would infallibly procure friends, and my tragedy

would appear next season to the best advantage, by being supported both

by interest and reputation. I was charmed with this prospect, and

having heard what friends Mr. Pope acquired by his pastorals, set about

a work of that kind, and in less than six weeks composed as many

eclogues, which I forthwith offered to an eminent bookseller, who

desired me to leave them for his perusal, and he would give an answer

in two days. At the end of that time, I went to him, when he returned

the poems, telling me, they would not answer his purpose, and sweetened

his refusal by saying there were some good clever lines in them. Not a

little dejected at this rebuff, which, I learned from Mr. O’Varnish,

was owing to the opinion of another author whom this bookseller always

consulted on these occasions, I applied to another person of the same

profession, who told me the town was cloyed with pastorals, and advised

me, if I intended to profit by my talents, to write something satirical

or luscious, such as the Button Hole, Shockey and Towner, The Leaky

Vessel, etc, and yet this was a man in years, who wore a reverend

periwig, looked like a senator, and went regularly to church. Be that

as it will, I scorned to prostitute my pen in the manner proposed, and

carried my papers to a third, who assured me that poetry was entirely

out of his way; and asked me if I had got never a piece of secret

history, thrown into a series of letters, or a volume of adventures,

such as those of Robinson Crusoe, and Colonel Jack, or a collection of

Conundrums, wherewith to entertain the plantations. Being quite

unfurnished for this dealer, I had recourse to another with as little

success; and I verily believe, was rejected by the whole trade.

“I was afterwards persuaded to offer myself as a translator, and

accordingly repaired to a person who was said to entertain numbers of

that class in his pay; he assured me, he had already a great deal of

that work on his hands, which he did not know what to do with; observed

that translations were a mere drug, that branch of literature being

overstocked with an inundation of authors from North Britain; and asked

what I would expect per sheet for rendering the Latin classics into

English. That I might not make myself too cheap, I determined to set a

high price upon my qualifications, and demanded half-a-guinea for every

translated sheet. “Half-a-guinea!” cried he, staring at me; then paused

a little, and said, he had no occasion for my service at present. I

found my error, and, resolving to make amends, fell one-half in my

demand; upon which he stared at me and told me his hands were full. I

attempted others without finding employment, and was actually reduced

to a very uncomfortable prospect, when I bethought myself of offering

my talents to the printers of half-penny ballads and other such

occasional essays, as are hawked about the streets. With this in view I

applied to one of the most noted and vociferous of this tribe, who

directed me to a person whom I found entertaining a whole crowd of them

with gin, bread, and cheese; he carried me into a little back parlour,

very neatly furnished, where I signified my desire of being enrolled

among his writers; and was asked what kind of composition I professed.

Understanding that my inclination leaned towards poetry, he expressed

his satisfaction, telling me one of his poets had lost his senses, and

was confined in Bedlam, and the other was become dozed with drinking

drams; so that he had not done anything tolerable these many weeks.

When I proposed that we should enter into terms of agreement, he gave

me to understand that his bargains were always conditional, and his

authors paid in proportion to the sale of their works.

“Having therefore settled these conditions, which (I do assure you)

were not very advantageous to me, he assigned me a subject for a

ballad, which was to be finished in two hours; and I retired to my

garret in order to perform his injunction. As the theme happened to

suit my fancy, I completed a pretty sort of an ode within the time

prescribed, and brought it to him, big with hope of profit and

applause. He read it in a twinkling, and, to my utter astonishment,

told me it would not do; though indeed he owned I wrote a good hand,

and spelled very well, but my language was too high flown, and of

consequence not at all adapted to the capacity and taste of his

customers. I promised to rectify that mistake and in half an hour

humbled my style to the comprehension of vulgar readers; he approved of

the alteration, and gave me some hopes of succeeding in time, though he

observed that my performance was very deficient in the quaintness of

expression that pleases the multitude: however, to encourage me, he

ventured the expense of printing and paper, and, if I remember aright,

my share of the sale amounted to fourpence halfpenny.

“From that day I studied the Grub Street manner with great diligence,

and at length became such a proficient that my works were in great

request among the most polite of the chairmen, draymen,

hackney-coachmen, footmen, and servant maids: nay, I have enjoyed the

pleasure of seeing my productions adorned with cuts, pasted upon the

walls as ornaments in beer cellars and cobblers’ stalls; and have

actually heard them sung in clubs of substantial tradesmen—but empty

praise (you know, my dear friend) will not supply the cravings of

nature. I found myself in danger of starving in the midst of all my

fame; for of ten songs I composed, it was well if two had the good

fortune to please. For this reason I turned my thoughts to prose, and,

during a tract of gloomy weather, published an apparition, on the

substance of which I subsisted very comfortably a whole month; I have

made many a good meal upon a monster; a rape has often afforded me

great satisfaction; but a murder, well timed, was my never-failing

resource. What then? I was almost a slave to my employers, who expected

to be furnished at a minute’s warning with prose and verse, just as

they thought the circumstances of the times required, whether the

inclination was absent or present. Upon my sincerity, Mr. Random, I

have been so much pestered and besieged by those children of clamour,

that life became a burden to me.”