The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1866-05-19
A TRUE BOHEMIAN.

et UIe te1rjbLen OF Bohemianism with its termi.
nations OF the Academy the Hospital, or the
Morgue, IS possible only in Paris. We may hope,
tor the sake of our English Jhteroters, that such
now is the case, and that the time has forever
passed, when, as Thomas Carlyle says, ian
Otway could still die of hunger, not to speak OF
your tnnum prable Scrogginses whom the Muse
found stretched beneath rug, with rusty crate
unconscious OF fre;' stocking nightcap, sanded
hoor, and all the other escutcheohs of craft time
out OF mlnd the heirlooms OF authorship" tb G
day when an auther Of no mean repute could
point out in warning to aspirants the result of a
lifelong devotion to literature:-
I'm I'm yetchy bed or loathsome dungeon end
or the age when man, nobly gifted as was Savage,
could remain homeless, and often without food,
studying in the busy streets and writing his pro.
auctions, with borrowed pen and ink, upon
scraps of paper picked out OF the kennels dur
ing his weary rambles; living by chance, occa-
sionally partaking of a good meal at the table OF
apatron when the statelot his clothing was such
as to permit him to accept an invitation; and
sleeping, in winter In dens and holes, with the
profgate and debauched of both sexes; OF in
summer, Pbotel de Ia belle etuis.
Unfortunately, the race of "Jacob Tonson's
ragamuffin is not yet extinct, and with
the heart-breaking cry Of dying David Gray,
IAN not worth fifteen pounds?" ringing in
our ears, we cannot see the golden sands of Pac-
tolus for very tears. So far, however, as
regards morality OF life and conversations we
may accept the dictum of Alexander Smith, in
"Dreamthorp," that the poets OF our day have
improved upon their brethren in Johnson'S
time, who were, according to Lord Macaulay,
hunted by bailitis, and familiar with spunging-
houses, and who, when Hospitality entertained, =,
were wont to disturb the household of the en-
tertainer by roaring for hot punch at O'Clock
IN the morning. Murger's pictures of the Bohe
mianism of to-day are photographs of the lives
OF the majority of the English writers OF the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and
more especially those who lived immed-
ately prior TO or contemporary with Shakespeare,
many OF whom were adventurers living as much
upon their wits as by the exercise of the talent
which they too often prostituted; men whO as
Dlsrael the elder says Of Amherst, having lost
their own characters, 'hastened to reform the
morals and politics OF the nation" writing words
of wisdom and living like fools and kpaves
wearing the Nessus robe OF genius, and trailing
the sacred garment through every possible scene
OF vice, devotng their pens to the service of
everything honest and true, and their lives to
the pursuit of everything vicious and false.
First and foremost in the ranks OF such men
stands Robert Greene, NJ. A., one Of those unfor-
tunate beings whose sins may be known by the
number and duration Of their fits of repentance.
iheane scholars may. have high thoughts
though lowe fortunes" said he, in one of his
numberless prefaces: but in his case the low
fortunes were only the natural results of his
own folly. Almost forgotten to-day, Oldys
speaks OF MIN as 'the greatest refner of Ian
4uage in his time,n and it has been suggested by
Charles Knight that the passage in the Mldsunl-
ner NSqhrs Dream
The thrice three Muses. mourning for the death
is an alluson to him. If so, the reference NAV
be considered as a graceful dn1ende honorable
Tor the numerous plagiarisms from Greene's
writings, of which Shakespeare had been guilty.
1t would appear that the parents of our Bohe
mlan were poor people, natives of Norwich,
where the poet was born about the year 1850. 1t
Is q mystery how they were enabled to afford
their son an education at the University of Cam
bridge, but that they did so is shown by his Mas
ter of Arts degree. He also went upon the grand
tour" as was usual with the young gentlemen of
that ace, but it may be that the ready wit and
good-tellowship for which he was distinguished
had obtained for him the patronage and friend
ship of young men of high social position, and
who found the means whereby to deiray mis- eX-
penses being in return immortalized as ''wags as
lewd" as himself.
This journey affected all his future life, for
there can be no doubt, judging from mis- broken
hints and confessions, that he brought back
with him many evil habits. Shortly after his
return to England, he married an amiable and
beautiful lady of good family and fortune, and
sad and strange to say after the birth OF their
first child, he basely and cruelty deserted her,
never returning although 1t is evident, from
many illusions to her scattered through his
writings, that he bitterly repented the foolish
act, but he seems to have lacked sufficient moral
courage to return and crave forgiveness. He
but IL was not until he had squandered
his wite's fortune that he ioined the
''unutterable shoe-black-scrap army of au-
bthops" bnSaS psd and began to to write Tor daily
period OF his life, there shines one CLEAN Of good
ness, inasmuch as it appears that although he
did not dare to return to his wife, he did not
squander all his earnings IN dissipation, but sent
part OF his income to the excellent woman whom
he had deserted. To say that he was dlssipated
1s only to say that he was sixteenth century
hher0teuT; had he been moral and temperate, he
would have been a TdTd dpis. Ben Jonson him
self, and the minor lights Oy whom he was sur
rounded, fell into the same vice of drinking,
which, ats that time, had attained almost to the
dlenlty OF a science, the great dramatst being
nick-named Canary-omd, on account of his fond
ness for Canary, and tradition has it he used TO
get drunk, ard then go home to bed, .and when
he had thoroughly perspired, then to study"
Drummond, of Hawthorne, SAYS candidly that
drink was ''the element in which Jonson lived.
Almost without exception the men about-town
writers OF that day were rOysterers and revellers
or at least whenever they had the means they
were so.
One day they were compulsory anchorites,
and the next they were sage Sybarltes. In those
cases where they died in their beds, like Peele,
their deaths were attributable not TO the gradual
decay OF nature but to their vices; in other
cases they managed like Marlowe to receive a
stab in brawl about courtesan. Such dun.
driven poets and Others who had all their vices
without any spark of genius, were Greene's boon
companions, the very tavern-keepers, as he him.
self said, making much of him until he was more
in their debt than he ever meant to pay twenty
mobiles thick" Surrounded by drunkards. II
would not have been surprising had his palate
lost its taste tor the fine clear draught of Casta.
Liam; surrounded by worse characters OF the
opposite sex it would not have been astonishing
had he failed to see the wondrous calm beauty
dwelling in the divine eyes OF Palas Athene.
Such, however, was not the case. Whatever his
life was, and IL scarcely could have been
more unclean, his writings continued to
be pure, just as poor Dick Steele, during the
most immoral Deriod of his life. wrote the