The Sun.
London, England, 1860-10-26 00:00:00

F OF TEE
LITERARY CLASS.

OA REBA.

(From the London Review and Weekly Journal, conducted
by Charles .31ae1cry.)
The Houses of Lords and Commons order to be
published every year, at the expense of the nation,
a vast quantity of ponderous volumes, known, from
their blue covers, as Blue Books. It would be too
much to say that all these books are useless or un-
necessary ; bat it would be a gross exaggeration, if
not a perversion of the truth, to say that so many
as one quarter of them are of any 'political, social,
or literary value whatsoever. When a new mem-
ber of Parliament is elected he is certain to receive,
within a few days, a printed circular, from one or
other of the dealers in waste paper, offering him
the highest current price for his blue-
b soks, and other Parliamentary lumber. It
is no secret that cart-loads of these volumes,
unread, uncut, uncared for, are no sooner received.
by our legislators than they find their way to the
stores of these speculative dealers ; whence they
emerge in due season, and at an enhanced price, to
shops of butchers, cheesemor gers, tripe-sellers,
tallow-chandlers, and trunk-makers. They are so
cumbersome, as well its uninteresting, that the
members of Parliament who are not guilty of the
meanness of selling them are only too glad to give
them away to the public institutions and libraries
of their respective boroughs, though these, as is
notorious, are not always so ready to receive the
gifts as their members are to bestow them. And.
these books, upon the average, cost the nation about
£250,000 per annum. Last year they cost £333,000.
And bad as this view of the case may be, it is, un-
fortunately not the worst of it. If the books were
simply useless, and the nation were rich enough to
afford the luxury of an annual quarter or third
of a million to keep a few paper mills going, and
the parliamentary printers at full work, it would.
become a question for the custodians of the national
purse, to consider whether the money might not
be better bestowed in some other direction, and for
the Chancellor of the Exchequer to decide whether
a reduction of taxation, to the amount involved,
might not be more just toward the people. But
unluckily these books, and more especially those
portions of them which relate to foreign affairs,
have not the negative demerit of being useless, but
the positive demerit and vice of being misleading
and untrustworthy, if not absolutely false.
But if, for diplomatic reasons, the falsehood can-
not be totally obliterated from the despatches of
ministers to ambassadors, or of ambassadors to
ministers—for who out of that charmed circle can
deal with the suppressio yeti ?—something might
be done to prevent the publication of the vast mass
of inutility which yearly employs the Parliamen-
tary printers. If a plan could be devised by which
none but useful and readable blue books should be
given to the public—if in carrying out the plan at
least half of the annual quarter of a million now
wasted upon rubbish should be saved to the
nation—and if, at the same time, a benefit should be
conferred upon men who, according to the high.
literary and political authority of Lord Bacon, are
the chief glory of a nation (though, under present
arrangement, only glorious when dead)—we think
the Government and the public ought to give it a
respectful hearing. And such a plan we beg to
sketch for the future consideration of Parliament
and the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
An English author in our days, unless he happen
to hit the public fancy in novels and romances, or
in some other mode that may pander to a fashion-
able taste, which may be good, but which is just as
likely to be depraved or silly, is seldom a prosper-
ous person. He manages to live from hand to
mouth, and, if he do not die in harness, and reach
that period of life when his overwrought brain is
unable to work any more, the Government is
shamed into giving him a niggardly pension, to
avoid the national disgrace of allowing him to
die of starvation, or betake himself to the work-
house, or to a street-crossing, to sweep the road for
his intellectual inferiors, for the sake of the chance
halfpence that may be dropped into his hat. If the
literary man happen to be a barrister of six years'
standing, and a steady political partisan at the
same time, there are thousands of good things
which the Government can offer for his accept-
ance. All sorts of commissionerships, county judge-
ships, and recorderships are his to ask for and obtain.
And if the worst come to the worst, he can accept
£BOO or £l,OOO a-year as a stipendiary po-
lice-magistrate in the metropolis. But for the
author proper there are no such chances.
He must_ write for the newspapers or for
the booksellers • and if he be either too bad or
too good for these. he may starve, or go to the
diggings, or take himself out of this world alto-
gether, unless, as said. before, he is very old, very
eminent, and very poor, when a mean pension, less
than that often given to a superannuated butler, is
graciously bestowed upon him by the Prime Minis-
ter of the day.
Our plan is that a dozen or twenty of such men,
in the full maturity of their intellect, instead of
being pensioned when they are worn out, should
be employed, on behalf of the State, in editing the
parliamentary documents—in reporting to the
House of Commons what returns made by
order are too trifling as well as too volumin-
cus to be worth printing; what, in their opinion,
should be condensed and epitomised ; what
should be kept in manuscript, and what should be
printed in extenso, and issued to the house and the
country for the public guidance and instruction.
At salaries ranging from £5OO to £l,OOO per
annum, the State might thus build twenty harbours
of refuge for competent literary men of good cha-
racter, whose labours, carried on under the direc-
tion and ultimate veto of the House of Commons,
might be the means of saving £lOO,OOO or
£150,000 per annum. At present the connection of
British literature with the State is simply degrad-
ing to both parties. The liceneer of plays and the
poet laureate are but servants in the Royal house-
hold, paid as the gold-stick and other servants are,
because they are supposed to minister in some way
or other to the Royal dignity. All other connection is
eleemosynary. Twelve hundred pounds each year to
be granted in pensions to the unfortunate devotees of
art, science, and literature ; and at least one half
of that pittance diverted from its purpose in pen-
sions to wives, daughters, and sisters of judges,
admirals, generals, and other persons dear to the
courtly circles, who have died without making
proper provision for their families—such is the con-
nection of literature with the Government of the
greatest, wealthiest, and most civilised nation of
the globe.
Why should not Literature as well as Law have
a chance of State employment in our country ?
There are prizes in all professions but that of letters.
It is true that if the man of letters amuses the young
ladies, and makes the people laugh or shudder over
his novels and romances, he may gain prizes
enough. In this case the author is but a tradesman,
and accommodates his wares to the fashion of the
market. Were there no other authorship than
this,—were there no genius too lofty and too re-
fined for the immediate comprehension of the
general reader and the devourer of novels,—were
there no literary intellect in advance of the age,
and of its ignorance or prejudice—our literary con-
dition would be poor indeed; our intellectual star
would have culminated, and we should have to
yield the first rank to nations more civilised than
ourselves.
We have yet one more plea to urge in behalf of
the project thus broadly sketched. The Government
of this country is a newspaper proprietor. It pos-
sesses the London Gazette, an official journal, in
which it is imperative upon the public, in many
legal and commercial cases, to advertise. Out
of this monopoly the Government derives a
revenue of £15,000 per annum, after deduction of
all expenses,—a sum sufficient to provide for the
salaries of the Prime Minister, the Foreign
Minister, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
Literature might well put in a claim for work and
pay out of a revenue like this, even did a large
economy created by the judicious editing and
publication of the Parliamentary documents, in the
manner proposed, not allow sufficient margin for
the purpose. Mr. Disraeli, Mr. Gladstone, Sir
George Lewis, Sir Bulwer Lytton, Lord Sohn
Russell,—all literary men and ministers, past or
present,—might well consider whether the scheme
might not be one of public advantage and
economy, as well as of literary recognition and re-
ward. To the appreciative judgment of such men
ged recommends oldier, should die
it. If it
be well
as these, and to that of all the friends of literature
in and out
that of
genius, Parliament,like
a good
equally
all well that genius
living soldier is
should for
itscloivue it.fntreyr,it afterlnayndbe
better than a dead one, whether he be an author or The grenadiers 'A
a grenadier. work may die
with him—that of the author may last as long
as the language. It is one of the glories of Oliver
Cromwell that he knew how to employ Milton.
It is one of the disgraces of Charles 11. that he had
neither sense nor magnanimity enough to rescue
Milton from starvation.

A FALL OVER THE CLIFFS.—At about 6 o'clock
on Monday evening three miners went on the cliffs at Du-
porth, near Charlestown, in Cornwall, the property of Mr.
George Freeth, where, it is said, that a rabbit started up
before them. They ran to see where it went, and ono of the
men missed his held on a furze bush, fell over the cliff, and
was dashed to pieces. Immediately on the alarm being
given the Coastguards-men, under Lieut. Kinsman, were
on the spot, ready to render any assistance in their power.
An inquest was to be held on the remains yesterday. The
three young men alluded to were Richard Vivian, John
Tredinnick, and Thomas Ripper. They were returning
from Forthpean. It was Vivian who fell and was killed.