command; so that, in fact, our regiment was as little calculated for actual service as that of Sir John Falstaff. The worthy Knight's corps, it is said, could hardly produce one shirt among them all, while ours was equally unable to furnish a single sheet! One staunch veteran of the line, and a few volunteers, quite strange to the service, and entirely unacquainted with literary tactics, constituted our whole disposable force; and the latter were, in truth, very little better than an awkward squad' for experience and intelligence. In this dilemma I found some difficulty in procuring the requisite quantity of tolerable matter for the month; and was more than once driven to the necessity of cooking up the entire concern myself.

I had been accustomed to go a great deal into society, and was now constantly on the qui vive for subjects on which to employ my pen, until I became so great an economist even in my pleasures, that I could hardly prevail upon myself to accept of any invitation which did not seem to promise me materials for an article for the Magazine. If I dropped in at Lady L.'s conversazione it was chiefly with the hope of picking up a contributor or two; and when I indulged myself with a few hours relaxation at a concert or a ball, my principal object was to gather hints for an agreeable sketch of society. In short, my new calling occupied my mind so completely to the exclusion of every other idea that I could think of nothing from ' night till morn, from morn till dewy eve,' but the Magazine! Still the anxieties which haunted me were rather of a pleasing description than otherwise; and I would not have relieved myself from them entirely had it been in my power. Besides, although there was much with which I could willingly have dispensed, there were many advantages attending my editorial pursuits which amply compensated for any trouble or vexation they might have cost me. Imprimis: the handsome yearly income to which my labours entitled me; secondly, the freedom of ingress afforded me to all places of public amusement, literary coteries, &c.; and lastly, but not leastly, the quantity of new books, letters, and neat square looking packages (post and carriage paid), which were each day piled upon my table, addressed to the Editor of the Magazine, with the authors' best compliments, best respects, and the like. Let me here advise, and with great sincerity, all authors to send presentation copies of their works to the Editors of respectable periodicals. I have usually taken in hand books thus politely presented to me with a degree of complacency for which, considering the character I have obtained for impartiality, I am somewhat at a loss to account. It is certain that a hundred times the value in money would have failed to influence me one jot in favour of a particular author; but a presentation copy, with a respectful inscription on the fly-leaf, tickles so delicately the self-love of an Editor, that he immediately becomes desirous to find in it something worthy of his commendation; and the wish to admire, says Dr. Johnson, is the first step towards positive admiration. Now it is impossible for an Editor not to imbibe a favourable impression of the politeness and discernment of an author, who selects him from the herd of his contemporaries, for the purpose of offering what he intends should imply his reliance on his generosity and good taste; therefore, let all authors send presentation copies to the Editors of popular periodicals.

For the first few months matters went on pleasantly enough between my publisher and myself. In his eyes I was the very paragon of Editors, and he trumpeted forth my praise in every possible variety of form of which a newspaper puff is susceptible. THE MORNING POST contained the most amia

ble paragraph in the world, in which the accession of talent (my accession of course) which had been obtained for the Magazine was mentioned, in terms that could leave me in no sort of doubt as to the admiration of the writer for my genius and acquirements. THE DAY dawned, in lines of encouraging light, upon my undertaking. THE HERALD gave timely notice of my ascent to the throne of my predecessors. THE CHRONICLE registered my claim to public countenance and support; even THE OLD TIMES, barring politics and polemics, pronounced me to be an editorial scion of considerable promise; and the BRITISH PRESS, absolutely, teemed with my eulogy!

Nor were the Evening Papers less amicably disposed towards me. THE COURIER carried the news of my accession into the remotest parts of the United Kingdom, accompanied by those cheering prognostics of the energy of government to be expected from the new Regime, which it is so well skilled to insinuate, when any change of affairs in the literary or political world transpires, to call either for apology or encouragement. THE SUN smiled a farewell benison upon me, and promised to irradiate me occasionally with the splendour of its enlivening beams. THE EVENING STAR scattered the genial dews of encouragement upon my hopes, and, to make a long story short, THE GLOBE was vocal with my praises from one end to the other!

This flood of glory' quite electrified me with delight. I had no reason to believe it otherwise than spontaneous and sincere; although it struck me as somewhat remarkable, that the whole scope and tendency of my genius and capabilities should thus suddenly have transpired, without any effort of my own to render myself notorious. I had written, it is true, a pretty ponderous pile of prose, and the best part of a ream of verse, but then I had uniformly veiled myself from the broad glare of popular applause, by suppressing my patronymic and publishing under another name. Doubtless, thought I, my productions have created a strong sensation, but how comes it that these good people have discovered me to be the author of them; and, without some information on the subject, what reason can they have for thinking me less of a blockhead than my predecessor. These questions, perplexing as they must have appeared to others, I soon solved in the way most agreeable to my own vanity; and I might have remained in error to the present day, but that a damned good-natured friend,' took the trouble of enlightening me on the subject; and it was not without some mortification that I heard these very well timed, and, to my judgment, elegantly turned paragraphs, referred to the ingenious (not ingenuous) pen of my publisher himself; who, to do him justice, was unequalled in this line of composition. Never was there a more successful practitioner of panegyric than Teucer Turnpenny. He would have beaten the proprietors of Warren's incomparable jet blacking to a stand-still with their own weapons; and even the renowned Doctor Solomon would have encountered him upon very unequal terms. The celebrated author of the Spanish Armada' might have dashed off the puff direct' with more expedition than my intelligent bibliopole; but we deny that he was half so well acquainted with the mode of managing the delicate intricacies and beautiful sinuosities of the puffs,'' preliminary,'' collateral,' collusive,' and oblique!'

6

It would answer no useful purpose to enter into minute details of my necessarily various transactions with such a person; but a few cursory anecdotes of my proceedings may not prove entirely uninteresting to lite

rary novices. I have already mentioned the total desertion of all the regular contributors of the Magazine (if it had ever any worth regretting), but I ought, in justice, to notice an exception, and by no means an unimportant one, in the person of DOCTOR BALAAM,-a zealous retainer of my publisher, a ⚫ servant of all work,' hired to effect objects of more importance to Teucer's pockets that the filling the columns of his Magazine, but whom he, nevertheless, permitted to devote the odds and ends of time left on his hands to my service, when no better employment presented itself. This individual had, in the course of a long and laborious life, produced several useful compilations, of which, however, his employers had mostly derived the benefit. For an annual stipend he had sold his services, withoutreserve, to my publisher, to execute such projects as Teucer's fertile invention might suggest; always admitting him, as a bonus, to a small share in the profits of each humbug, in order to stimulate him to the exertions requisite for a fresh undertaking. Thus encouraged, the industry of the Doctor was boundless. I have known him travel to Kamschatka, in a fortnight, and return with a comely octavo volume under his arm, entitled • Remarks on the Manners and Customs of the inhabitants of Kamschatka, with a Map and Survey, Geological and Geographical, of that interesting country, translated from the Swedish of Gustavus Poniatowski, late Ambassador from the Court of Sweden!!' Nay, so expeditious was this traveller, that I remember, on a particular emergency, his making a voyage to Canton in ten days, and bringing back with him a huge packet of entertaining reminiscences, which, in due time, made their appearance in a three guinea quarto, with maps and charts, and all the embellishments which the typographical and topographical arts could bestow; entitled Voyage to Canton, with notices of the language and literature of the Chinese, from the original Dutch by Stoe Van Hartingen, Captain in the Dutch East India Company !'

In Biography Doctor Balaam was, perhaps, more expert than in his Voyages and Travels.' Although good enough sort of men, where their own interests did not interfere, public calamity was the source of heartfelt congratulations to my bookseller and his factotum. The death of an illustrious contemporary was to them a source of life and good fortune! No sooner was the demise of the great person formally announced in the daily prints than the Doctor set to work, vi et armis. Newspaper files were searched and periodicals (but more especially the obituaries of my worthy friend Sylvanus Urban), ransacked for such raw and undigested information as they might chance to contain. It, of course, seldom happened, that the friends of the illustrious deceased would open sources of information to such a biographer. But our book-maker was not easily to be daunted. The Peerages supplied abundant anecdotes of the ancestors of the distinguished person,' invention would furnish the rest, and so the Memoirs' were completed-printed-published,-and puffed!

Nor did Doctor Balaam's services end here. He was the most fortunate man I ever heard of in the discovery of original letters and posthumous MSS. of poets, historians, and philosophers. He seldom visited the British Museum without turning up a pile of 'original correspondence' of some great writer or other which had escaped the researches of less fortunate investigation. These collections were, successively, ushered into notice with the usual accompaniments of wove paper and wide margins. Their originality was never for a moment questioned; but it not unfrequently happened, that their

genuineness began to be considered as more than questionable by the time the whole impression was disposed of. But our bookseller and his colleague were entirely callous to the exposures which commonly followed their impostures. To apply to them the language of Dryden- they lived by selling titles and not books; and if that carried off one impression they had their end, and valued not the curses they met with from their bubbled chapmen!'

;

The secrets to which this veteran admitted me as to the various modes of wheedling and humbug, were eminently worth the trouble of initiation and, although they were occasionally, to the vulgar ken, dark and incomprehensible as the Eleusinian mysteries themselves, nothing could be more simple than each enigma when light had been thrown upon it by his edifying explanations. There were few subjects on which the Doctor either was not, or did not, affect to be informed. He has, at various times, furnished me with Essays on the morbid diseases of the Lungs,' professing to come from a Member of the College of Physicians, (he was an L.L.D.; Meteorological Observations, dated from the Bahamas (he never was ten miles from St. Paul's Cathedral in his life), and notices of the progress of vocal music in England, although his acquaintance with that enchanting science was barely sufficient to enable him to distinguish God save the King' from Rule Britannia!'

It was about this time that the seeds of that mighty revolution which has since sprung up in Magazine literature, began to germinate. Editors could no longer inflict upon their readers the same dull repetition of crossquestions and crooked answers; the same endless reiteration of nonentities, with impunity. Another and a healthier taste was beginning to manifest itself. My publisher, and I, therefore, determined upon closing our accounts with some of our long-winded contributors. Sophonisba's Tale was brought to an end; Philo-Logos was no longer permitted to be wordy; The Quarrels of Quince and Flute were amicably adjusted; Several writers on Education were instructed to improve themselves; the ears of our Gleaner were reduced, whilst the eyes of our Observer were directed to more interesting objects than had hitherto occupied their attention; the Memoirs of a Sad Dog were curtailed; Detector was himself threatened with exposition; Miranda's Pleasures of Fancy were abridged to one Fytte; Mercury was dismissed; the writer of the Cornucopia requested to make himself scarce; Doctor Balaam superannuated; and the lucubrations of the rest of our contributors-sent to the devil!

Here then was the earnest of as radical a reform as the most determined stickler could have ventured to propose. Unfortunately, however, we had dissolved our little cabinet, and sent our prime minister the Doctor to the right about, without duly considering how the deficiencies were to be supplied. In this dilemma we resembled those visionaries who would overturn religious and political institutions before they have provided others in their stead. But the blow was struck. Our advertisements had gone forth, teeming (as usual), with the most magnificent promises. A thousand reams of paper, of a texture not easily to be paralleled, were already purchased; a fresh printer engaged; his steam engines charged, and nothing wanting but the articles of which our phoenix of Magazines was to be composed.

The publishers of periodicals,' says Mackenzie, in one of his papers on the Mirror, may be compared to the proprietors of stage coaches, who are

compelled to run their vehicles with or without passengers!' Now we happened to be at this juncture exactly in the latter predicament. Our oldfashioned and crazy 'family vehicle' was about to be metamorphosed into a spruce mail coach on the newest principle; intended to carry eight inside; and as many out as we could get. We even went to the expense of fresh painting the concern, and changing the colour of its pannels, on which we had emblazoned a beautiful fac-simile of the Saracen's head. All these improvements, however, had been repeatedly announced, and as yet we had booked very few passengers for the journey. But an expedient presently occurred to us, which was not only to carry all who might be disposed for a cast free of expense, but to give them a dinner, wine, and a present of money into the bargain! No sooner had the intimation been issued, than a crowd collected about our office doors, (for many of whose carcases a common stage waggon would have been a more eligible conveyance), and loudly demanded the fulfilment of our stipulation. Never, surely, until this occasion, had mortal eyes beheld so motley a groupe. There were Barristers from the Temple (not of the Muses) with their 'green bags' filled even to repletion, not with briefs, but with elegies. gouty Magistrates of the Quorum, with compilations from Burn's Justice, heavy as themselves, lisping in the prettiest undertones immaginable,'We're a' treading, tread, tread, treading! Sheriffs' Officers, from Cursitor-street, liberal of copy, thundering forth declamatory speeches about 'liberty' and ' prison-discipline.' Pawnbrokers from the purlieus of Covent Garden and Drury-lane, groaning beneath an accumulated burthen of last year's 'unredeemed pledges.' Prentices from Bucklersbury and Aldgate bawling Eastward Hoe! Tun-bellied Aldermen from the Ward of Farringdon without, with huge Essays on the love of the Turtle.' Dramatists without action, as fat but by no means as witty, as George Colman the younger. Parodists, weighing twenty stone, cumberously flippant, and lugubriously good humoured.

Commodores, with timber toes, a sailing from their latitudes,

And Blues from Lady Morgan's corps all sprawling into attitudes !

and a

Of course we could not carry the whole bevy and their lumber at once. We, therefore, made an election of as many as our vehicle would accommodate, and entered the rest in our books for a future day. Thus freighted, although some alarming apprehensions were entertained lest we should topple over or break down on the road, we reached the place of our destination in perfect safety, amid the jeers and witticisms of the mob collected to witness our arrival. One person compared us (i. e. our Magazine), to a lumbering French Diligence; another, (meaning, of course, to glance at our capaciousness), to an improved edition of Pickford's Fly Van; third (in all probability seduced into this simile by our having around us so many gentlemen in black,' members of the learned professions), likened us to a hearse and four, bereft of its pageantry of woe,' and returning from a funeral. Amid this shower of impertinence I maintained a dignified silence. I looked lightning at my assailants, conceiving it most becoming to treat with silent contempt the envious gibes of each pedestrian churl.' To apply the forcible language of the noble poet I have just quoted, I remained

With a most voiceless thought sheathing it like a sword.

For this endurance we were amply repaid by the vociferated commenda