Chapter IV: Part 4

The attempts already made by Constable and Murray to promote the sale of cheap and yet excellent books, led Longman to establish his _Cabinet Encyclopædia_. The management was given to Dr. Lardner, then a professor at the London University, and all, or nearly all, Longman’s literary connections were pressed into service on his staff of contributors. In the prospectus we see the names of Scott, Moore, Mackintosh, Coleridge, Miss Edgeworth, Herschell, Long, Brewster, De Morgan, Thirlwall, and, of course, Southey. The _Times_ gave more than a broad hint that some of the names were put forward as lures, and nothing else. Southey was anxious that this “insinuation” should be brought before a court of law, where the writer may be “taught that not every kind of slander may be published with impunity.” The proprietors, however, contented themselves with publishing books, most indubitably written by the authors whose names they bore. The first volume was published in 1829, and at the close of the series, in 1846, one hundred and thirty-three volumes had been issued, the whole of which were eminently successful, and some few of them, such as Sir John Herschell’s _Astronomy_, in particular, have since been expanded into recognised and standard works.

Another valuable work which has been a constant source of wealth to the firm, somewhat similar in scope to the preceding, was McCulloch’s _Commercial Dictionary_, first published in 1832; in which year the present Mr. Thomas Longman was admitted a partner, being joined by his brother, Mr. William Longman, in 1839. With young Mr. Thomas Longman, Moore appears to have been particularly friendly, addressing him always as “Dear Tom.” As far back as 1829, we see the poet requesting that some one might be sent over to have “poor Barbara’s” grave made tidy, for fear that his wife Bessy, who was about to make a loving pilgrimage thither, might be shocked, and we read afterwards that “young Longman kindly rode over twice to Hornsey for the purpose.” In Moore’s diary, too, for 1837, we find many regrets for the loss of Rees--a man “who may be classed among those solemn business-ties, the breaking of which by death cannot but be felt solemnly, if not deeply.” And again, later on, in 1840: “Indeed, I will venture to say that there are few tributes from authors to publishers more honourable (or I will fairly say more deserved) than those which will be found among my papers relative to the transactions for many years between myself and my friends of the ‘Row.’”

Thomas Longman the third was now an old man, but still constantly attentive to business. In his time he had seen many changes, but none more striking than those that occupied his latter days. _Madoc_ was still lying on his shelves, but Southey was poet-laureate. Scott and Byron had in succession entranced the world. They had now withdrawn, and no third king arose to demand recognition. It was in the calm that followed that Wordsworth obtained a hearing. In 1839, the University of Oxford conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Laws, amid the enthusiastic applause of a crowded theatre. Younger men were coming to the fore, and though his contemporaries were fast dying off, still Longman was as eager for business as ever, and as ready, when it was over, for his chief pleasure--the enjoyments of domestic life; for his favourite pursuits--the love of music and the culture of fruits and flowers. As far as health and activity went, though in his 72nd year, he was still in the prime of life, when, on his usual ride to town, his horse fell, near the Small-pox Hospital, St. Pancras, and he was thrown over the animal’s head and struck the ground with such violence as to fracture his skull and injure his spine; and in a few days afterwards he died at his residence, Greenhill House, Hampstead, on 28th August, 1842--leaving a blank, not only in his own family circle, but in the hearts of all who had known him as a master, or had reaped a benefit from the uniform generosity of his business dealings.

Mr. McCulloch and many of his literary clients erected a monument, the bust of which, by Mr. Moore, is said to be a good likeness, to his memory--an affectionate tribute seldom paid by men-of-letters to a publisher--now standing in Hampstead church.

His personalty was sworn under £200,000, and was principally left to his widow and family. The former, however, did not long survive her sorrow, but died some ten weeks after her husband.

Their second son, Mr. Charles Longman, of Two Waters, joined Mr. Dickenson, in the trade of wholesale stationers and paper-makers, in which they have since then attained a pre-eminence. Their eldest daughter married Mr. Spottiswoode, the Queen’s printer, and the third daughter is the wife of Reginald Bray, Esq., of Shere.

The succession of a Thomas Longman to the chiefdom of the house is, Mr. Knight says somewhere, as certain as the accession of a George was in the Hanoverian dynasty: and the present Mr. Longman, aided by his brother William, took command of the gigantic firm in Paternoster Row. The very year of their father’s death was a year to be long remembered in the annals of the firm for an unusually successful “hit,” in the production of the _Lays of Ancient Rome_. Not even in the palmy days of Scott and Byron was such an immediate and enormous circulation attained. In 1844, Macaulay ceased to contribute to the _Edinburgh Review_--nearly twenty years from the date of his first contributions; receiving latterly, we believe, £100 as a minimum price for an article. A collective edition of these essays was published in America; and within five years sixty thousand volumes were sold, and, as many of these were imported into England, Macaulay authorised the proprietors of the _Review_ to issue an English edition, which certainly proved the most remunerative collection of essays ever published in this or any other country. The English edition contains twenty-seven essays, in some editions twenty-six. The Philadelphia edition contains eleven additional essays.[11]

These essays were all very excellent, but Macaulay’s admirers regretted with Tom Moore, “that his great powers should not be concentrated upon one great work, instead of being scattered in Sibyl’s leaves,” and great was the satisfaction in 1841, when it was known that he was engaged upon a History of England, and the publication of the work was looked forward to with the greatest eagerness; and in 1849 the first two volumes appeared. Success was immediate--“Within six months,” says the _Edinburgh Review_, “the book has run through five editions, involving an issue of above 18,000 copies.” By 1856, the sale of these two volumes had reached nearly 40,000 copies, and in the United States 125,000 copies were sold in five years. For the privilege of publication for ten years, it is said that Mr. Longman allowed the author £600 per annum; the copyright remaining in Macaulay’s possession.

This success, however, was nothing to that achieved by the third and fourth volumes; and the day of their publication, 17th Dec., 1855, will be long remembered in the annals of Paternoster Row. It was presumed that 25,000 copies would be quite sufficient to meet the first public demand; but this enormous pile of books, weighing fifty-six tons, was exhausted the first day, and eleven thousand applicants were still unsatisfied. In New York one house sold 73,000 volumes (three different styles and prices) in ten days, and 25,000 more were immediately issued in Philadelphia--10,000 were stereotyped, printed, and in the hands of the publishers within fifty working hours. The aggregate sale in England and America, within four weeks of publication, is said to have exceeded 150,000 copies. Macaulay is also stated to have received £16,000 from Mr. Longman for the copyright of the third and fourth volumes.[12]

Upon the death of Mr. Macney Napier, the editorship of the _Review_ was transferred to Mr. Empson, Jeffrey’s son-in-law; while he in turn was succeeded by Sir George Cornewall Lewis, who finally gave place to Mr. H. Reeve.

In the way of cheap literature the “Travellers’ Library,” commenced in 1851, is deservedly worthy of notice. In this year occurred the unusual phenomenon of a pamphlet, bearing on its title-page the joint names of Mr. Longman and Mr. Murray. This was a reprint of some correspondence with Earl Russell, in his official capacity, as to the injustice of the State undertaking the publication of school-books at the national expense, and compelling the government schools to adopt them--thus creating a perfect monopoly and interfering with private enterprise. The books in question were published by the Irish Educational Commissioners, but more than three-quarters of them were eventually sold in England--many of them, especially the collection of poetry, were, it was further urged, pirated from copyright works. The correspondence was long and protracted on the side of the publishers; and as is often the case in an important public question, Earl Russell’s replies consisted of the merest acknowledgment. Mr. Longman had, however, an opportunity of a pleasant revenge. Tom Moore had left all his papers, letters, and journals to the care of his friend, Earl Russell--a man who, as Sydney Smith said, thought he could do anything--“build St. Paul’s, cut for the stone, or command the Channel Fleet.” The one thing apparently he could not do was the editorship or composition of a Poet’s Life. The material, indeed, was ample, and seems to have been printed pretty much as it came to hand. However, the sum which Mr. Longman gave for the papers appeared, together with the pension, an ample provision for the devoted “Bessy.”

Among the later efforts of the firm we may here mention the issue of many finely illustrated works, and we must also chronicle the fact that in 1863--the business connections and stock of the Parkers were added to the enormous trade of the leviathan firm. Giving a glance at the changes that have taken place in the members of the firm, we have merely space to note that at Cosmo Orme’s death in 1859 Mr. Brown retired, and at his decease on the 24th of March, 1869, left an immense fortune, more than £100,000 going in various legacies, of which the Booksellers’ Provident Retreat and Institution each received £10,000, the Royal Literary Fund £3000, and the Stationers’ Company in all £10,000, the balance after the various legacies, and there were no less than sixty-eight legatees, going to the grandchildren of Thomas Norton Longman. The personalty of Mr. B. E. Green, who died about the same date, was sworn under £200,000. Two of the former assistants, Mr. Dyer and Mr. Reader, have, on the good old system, been admitted to the firm, which now stands “Longmans, Green, Reader, and Dyer.” Mr. Roberts, as before stated, died in 1865.

Both the Messrs. Longman are well known for their literary talents--Mr. Thomas Longman as editor of a magnificent edition of the New Testament; and Mr. William as an historical author. The first of his works was, we believe, privately printed, _A Tour in the Alps, by W. L._ Mr. William Longman has always been an enthusiastic Alpine traveller. He has, however, more recently published a _History of the Life and Times of Edward III._, in two volumes, and at our present writing a new work has just appeared in which he says playfully, “I trust authors will forgive me, and not revenge themselves by turning publishers;” and he adds heartily and generously, “There is, nevertheless, some advantage in a publisher dabbling in literature, for it shows him the difficulties with which an author has to contend--the labour which is indispensable to produce a work which may be relied on--and it increases the sympathy which should, and which in these days does, exist between author and publisher.” These latter lines surely form a very fitting sentence with which to conclude our short history of the house of Longman.

_CONSTABLE, CADELL, AND BLACK._

THE “EDINBURGH REVIEW,” “WAVERLEY NOVELS,” AND “ENCYCLOPÆDIA BRITANNICA.”

From 1790 to 1820 Edinburgh richly deserved the honourable title of “Modern Athens.” Her University and her High School, directed by men pre-eminently fitted for their duties, capable of firing their pupils’ minds with a noble purpose, endowed with a lofty ideal of a master’s responsibilities--in fact, possessed of all the qualities that Dr. Arnold afterwards displayed elsewhere--attracted and educated a set of young men, unrivalled, perhaps, in modern times for genius and energy, for wit and learning. Nothing, then, was wanting to their due encouragement but a liberal patron, and this position was speedily occupied by a publisher, who, in his munificence and venturous spirit, soon outstripped his boldest English rival--whose one fault was, in fact, that of always being a Mæcenas, never a tradesman.

Archibald Constable was born on the 24th of February, 1776, at Kellie, in the parish of Carnbee in Fifeshire. He was the son of Thomas Constable, who, through his sagacity in rural matters, had risen to the position of land steward or baillie to the Earl of Kellie. The first thirteen or fourteen years of Archibald’s life were passed beneath his father’s roof, and his education, such as the parish school of Carnbee then afforded, consisted of a course of reading in the vernacular tongue, writing, arithmetic, and some elementary lessons in trigonometry, and beyond this humble curriculum, we believe his subsequent acquisitions did not much extend. Still, though he never attained any proficiency in academical studies, his native talents and address generally enabled him to both surmount and conceal it.

From an early age Archibald was possessed of a desire to enter upon a bookseller’s useful career--a desire in his case not altogether unmixed with the hope of acquiring literary distinction. In 1788 therefore, he became apprenticed to Mr. Peter Hill, bookseller of Edinburgh, the old friend and correspondent of Burns. While a lad in Hill’s shop he seems to have devoted his leisure hours to the acquisition of that knowledge of the early and rare productions of the Scottish press, and of all publications relating generally to the history, antiquities, and literature of Scotland, for which, throughout his subsequent career, he continued to exhibit a strong predilection. About the time of the expiration of his apprenticeship he married the daughter of David Willison, a printer, who, though previously very averse to the match, was subsequently of some service in enabling him to start for himself. Having hired a small shop in the High Street, afterwards rendered conspicuous by his celebrity as a publisher, he issued, in November, 1795, the first of his Sale Catalogues of rare and curious books, which soon drew to his shop all the bibliographers and lovers of learning in the city. In this line of trade he speedily acquired considerable eminence, not so much by the extensiveness of his stock, for his capital was of the smallest, as by his personal activity, his congenial curiosity, and his quick intelligence. Here it was that Heber, in the course of his bibliomaniacal prowlings, came across Leyden, perched perpetually on a ladder reading some venerable folio, which his purse forbade him to purchase, but which through Constable’s kindness was placed in this manner at his disposal. Heber soon brought him under Scott’s notice, and thus had the pleasure of introducing the two most promising young men of the day to each other. Constable had, however, an ambition too strong to be satisfied with the routine business of a second-hand book-shop. Even before his shop in the High Street was fairly opened, he had himself offered a book to the trade--a reprint of Bishop Beveridge’s _Private Thoughts on Religion_, struck off coarsely upon a whitey-brown sort of “tea-paper;” but still it was his first, and, as Archibald proudly said, “it was a pretty enough little bookie!”

1775-1827.]

Among other publications in which from his first outset he had been engaged, and which at the time he esteemed as by no means inconsiderable, were Campbell’s “History of Scottish Poetry,” Dalzell’s “Fragments of Scottish History,” and Leyden’s edition of the “Complaint of Scotland.” In 1801 he acquired the property of the _Scots Magazine_, a miscellany which had commenced in 1739, and which was still esteemed as a repository of curious facts. This congenial publication engaged at first a considerable share of his personal attention, and, aided by the talents of Leyden, Murray, and Macneil, its reputation as a critical journal was raised into some importance.

Of all the extraordinary geniuses with whom Constable came into contact, none were more conspicuous to those near enough to judge than Leyden, his first editor of the periodical. A poet, an antiquarian, an Orientalist, he will long be distinguished among those whom the elasticity and ardour of genius have raised to distinction from an obscure and humble origin. The son of a day labourer at Denholm, he had, by sheer force of will, worked his way to the college of Edinburgh, where he at once obtained the friendship of many eminent literary men. His acquaintance with Scott soon introduced him into the best society in Edinburgh--which was then the most intellectual society in Europe--and here his wild uncouthness of demeanour did not at all interfere with the general appreciation of his genius, his gigantic endowments, and his really amiable virtues. Fixing his ambition on the East, where he hoped to rival the achievements of Sir William Jones, he obtained in 1802 the promise of some literary appointment in the East India Company’s service; but when the time drew near it was discovered that the patronage of the season had been exhausted, with the exception of one surgeon-assistant’s commission, and he was informed that if he wished to accept it he must qualify within six months. He grappled at once with the task, and accomplished what takes other men three or four years in attainment within the incredibly short space of six months. He sailed for India in 1803, and died in 1811, at the early age of thirty-six, having in the seven years of his sojourn achieved the reputation of the most marvellous of Orientalists. His poetical remains were collected and given to the public in 1821, and exhibit in some instances a power of numbers which for mere melody of sound has seldom been surpassed in the English language.

In 1802, Constable commenced the _Farmer’s Magazine_, under the management of an able East Lothian agriculturist, Mr. R. Brown, then of Markle. This work enjoyed a reputation contemporary with the whole of his business life. Altogether, Constable was making fair way as a publisher, when, in 1802, the _Edinburgh Review_ burst like a bombshell upon an astonished world, and gave him just reason to believe that his professional fortune was thoroughly ensured in the most glorious manner.

The origin of the _Review_, like the beginnings of all things, is wrapped in doubt and mystery. Hitherto in the critical department of English literature, a review had been little more than a peg upon which to hang books for advertisement, and in which the general bearings of science, literature, and politics were left almost untouched. In Scotland, criticism was at a still lower ebb, for the country had possessed no regular review at all since the old _Edinburgh Review_ had expired in 1756, after a flickering existence of a twelvemonth.

“One day,” writes Sydney Smith, “we happened to meet in the eighth or ninth storey (it was the third) of a flat in Buccleuch-place, the elevated residence of the then Mr. Jeffrey. I proposed that we should get up a review. This was acceded to with acclamations. I was appointed editor, and remained long enough in Edinburgh to edit the first number of the _Edinburgh Review_. The motto I proposed was--

‘Tenui musam meditamur avenâ.’

‘We cultivate literature upon a little oatmeal.’

But this was too near the truth to be admitted, and so we took our present grave motto from Publius Lyrus, of whom none of us had, I am sure, read a single line; and so began what has since turned out to be a very important and able journal. When I left Edinburgh it fell into the stronger hands of Lord Jeffrey and Lord Brougham, and reached the highest point of popularity and success.”

It was resolved to bring out the first number of the work in June, 1802; but its outset was surrounded with many difficulties, arising from want of experience in its chief conductors. The meetings of the conspirators were held in a little room off Willison’s (Constable’s father-in-law’s) office in Craig’s-court, to which each man was requested to steal singly, by whichever way would be least suspicious; and there they examined and criticised each other’s productions, and corrected the proof sheets as they were thrown off. Here it was that Jeffrey once rushed down excitedly into Willison’s printing-office, crying, “Where is your pepper-box, man--your pepper-box?” In vain the printer declared he had no such useful article on the premises; Jeffrey persisted that the proof sheets must have been dusted with commas from a pepper-box, so lavish had the printer been with his points. Through various delays, typographical and otherwise, the first number, as we have seen, did not appear until the following November.

Lord Brougham, in the first volume of his recently-published autobiography, flatly contradicts this account. “Nothing,” he says, “can be more imaginary than nearly the whole of it.” Still, when Sydney Smith published his version of the history, neither Lord Brougham nor any other person interested took the trouble to contradict it; and we are inclined to accept rather an account written within a short time of the foundation of the _Review_ than to receive another version written by an octogenarian at an interval of more than half a century. A letter, moreover, of Sydney Smith’s, first published in the _Athenæum_ of April 1st, 1871, shows clearly that the proprietors of the journal presented him “with books to the value of £100 (corrected to £114) as a memorial of their respect for having planned and contributed to a work which to them has been a source of reputation as well as of emolument.” On the other hand, Sydney Smith’s editorship certainly did not extend beyond the first number, and was probably even in that subject to the direction of Jeffrey.

The list of contributions to the first four numbers may, however, be accepted as indisputable evidence of Brougham’s enormous powers of work. To these four numbers he contributed twenty-one articles, besides portions of four others. Smith contributed eighteen, Jeffrey sixteen, and Horner seven. Brougham, too, kept up this rate of contribution more steadily than any of his colleagues. To the first twenty numbers he contributed no less than eighty articles, Jeffrey seventy-five, Smith twenty-three, and Horner fourteen. By this time the new periodical was fairly launched, and the additional services of such men as Playfair, Thomas Brown, Walter Scott, Hallam, Murray, and Stodhart, had been secured.

The extensive circulation and reputation of the _Edinburgh Review_ was, Scott himself says, due to two circumstances; first that it was entirely uninfluenced by the booksellers; and, secondly, the regular payment of editor and contributors: Jeffrey receiving, from the commencement of his labours, £300 per annum (afterwards increased to £800), whilst every contributor was compelled, even if wealthy, to accept a minimum bonus of £10 (afterwards raised to £16) per sheet.

Never before had the enterprise of young and almost unknown men started so ambitious a scheme, and never since have pluck and learning, talent and genius been so amply rewarded. They found the world of English society, English literature, and English politics warped and dwarfed--scared by the French Revolution and the American Republic into a dormant state of Toryism--they found matters thus, and in an incredibly short time they almost changed the current of the national thought. Jeffrey, with his clear, legal mind, his startling and brilliant manner of expression, his sarcasm cold and sharp-edged as a Toledo blade, unfortunately only too capable of wounding too deeply--won the position of the greatest English critic of all time, and of the most eminent Scottish lawyer of the day--achieving the highest honours open to the advocates of Edinburgh. Brougham, with his ponderous learning, his marvellous versatility, his immense powers of work, became not only the first English lawyer, but one of the first English statesmen of his time. Sydney Smith, the wittiest man certainly of his century, might have attained the highest honours open to his calling, had he not preferred the more humble and more praiseworthy career of being a liberal clergyman at a time when the wearers of his cloth were one and all rank Tories to the backbone.

Constable, who had at first been rather startled and alarmed at the design of the _Edinburgh Review_, was not prepared, any more than the projectors themselves, for its immediate and splendid success. Without a publisher of his cast of mind the work, however, might have encountered some difficulties, and he was not slow to perceive, nor backward to follow, that line of conduct towards its conductors, without the observance of which the new relations between them could not long have been sustained harmoniously. The present proprietors of the work became, some years after its commencement, sharers of the property, but the publishing department remained, we believe, under his direction for many years.

In 1804 Constable assumed as partner Alexander Gibson Hunter, of Blackness, and from that time the business was carried on under the title of Archibald Constable and Co. In the following year, 1805, he added to the list of his periodicals the _Medical and Surgical Journal_, a work projected in concert with Dr. Andrew Duncan, and which existed till 1855, when it was united to the _Medical Journal of Science_. It was in this year, also, that the firm published a poem, which was eventually to do more for the enlargement of their business and the honour of their name than even the famous _Review_ itself.

Walter Scott, as we have seen, while still unknown to fame, had been a frequent visitor at Constable’s old book-shop. The publishers of the first edition of the _Lay of the Last Minstrel_ were Longman and Co. of London, and Archibald Constable and Co. of Edinburgh; the latter firm taking but a small venture in the risk. The profit was to be divided equally between the author and the publishers, and Scott’s portion amounted to £169 6_s._ Longman, when a second edition was called for, offered £500 for the copyright, which was immediately accepted, but they afterwards added, as the Introduction says, “£100 in their own unsolicited kindness.” In the history of British poetry nothing had ever equalled the demand for the _Lay of the Last Minstrel_. 44,000 copies were disposed of before Scott superintended the edition of 1830, to which the biographical introductions were prefixed.

In the ensuing year Constable issued a beautiful edition of what he termed _Works of Walter Scott, Esq._, comprising the poem just mentioned, the “Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border,” “Sir Tristram,” and a series of “Lyrical Ballads.”

In 1806 it was rumoured that Scott had a new poem in hand. Longman at once opened negotiation as to its purchase, but in vain; and in a short time the London publishers heard with a feeling of jealousy, not unmixed with honest amazement, that Constable had offered one thousand guineas for a poem which had not yet been completed, and of which he had not even seen the scheme.

It may be gathered from the Introduction of 1830 that private circumstances of a delicate nature rendered it desirable for Scott to obtain the immediate command of such a sum; the price was actually paid long before the poem was published; and it suited well with Constable’s character to imagine that his readiness to advance the money may have outstripped the calculations of more experienced dealers.

The bargain having, however, been concluded he was too wary to keep the venture entirely to himself, and he consequently tendered one-fourth of the copyright to Mr. Miller of Albemarle Street, and to Mr. Murray, then of Fleet Street, London, and in both cases the offer was eagerly accepted.

_Marmion_, the poem in question, which had been announced by an advertisement in 1857, as _Six Epistles from Ettrick Forest_, met with an immense success, and 2000 copies, at a guinea and a half each, were disposed of in less than a month.

As an instance of the freedom Constable left to Jeffrey in the conduct of the _Review_, we are not a little astonished to read that the venture, in which he had risked so much, was attacked in a most slashing manner in his own journal. Jeffrey, thinking nothing of so ordinary a circumstance, sent the article to Scott with a note stating that he would come to dinner on the following Tuesday. Scott, though wounded by the tone of the _Review_, did his best to conceal it. Mrs. Scott, however, was very cool in her manner, and, as Jeffrey was taking leave, could no longer restrain her pique, and in her broken English--“Well, guid night, Mr. Jeffrey; dey tell me you have abused Scott in the _Review_; and I hope Mr. Constable has paid you well for writing it.” This anecdote, insignificant in itself, prepares us to some extent for the coldness between them, which led Scott to originate the _Quarterly Review_.

Emboldened still further by the success of _Marmion_, Constable now engaged Scott to edit the works of Swift, and as Scott had several like engagements on hand--he held, in fact, five separate agreements at the same time, for the London publishers--offered him £1500 for his new undertaking.

Constable was at this time in an apparently assured line of success. Though of a very sanguine nature--a quality without which no projector could possibly succeed--he was one of the most sagacious persons who ever followed his profession. A brother poet of Scott says of him: “Our butteracious friend turns up a deep draw-well;” and another eminent writer still more intimately connected had already christened him “the Crafty”--a title which, of all the flying burrs, was the one that stuck the firmest. His fair and handsome physiognomy was marked by an unmistakable and bland astuteness of expression. He generally avoided criticism as well as authorship, both being out of his “proper line.”

But of this “proper line,” and his own qualification for it, his esteem was ample. The one flaw, and the fatal flaw, in his character as a business man was his hatred of accounts, for he systematically refused during the most vigorous years of his life to examine or sign a balance sheet. Scott, in describing his appearance, says, “Ay, Constable is indeed a grand-looking chield. He puts me in mind of Fielding’s apology for Lady Booby--to wit that Joseph Andrews had an air which to those who had not seen many noblemen, would give an idea of nobility.” His conversation was manly and vigorous, abounding in Scotch anecdotes of the old times, and he could, when he had a mind, control the extravagant vanity which at times made him ridiculous. His advice was often useful to Scott, and more than one of the subjects of the novels, and many of the titles, were due to his recommendations. Cadell, his partner, says that in his high moods he used to stalk up and down the room exclaiming, “By God! I am all but the author of the Waverley novels!”

Of course, as a successful publisher, Constable was overwhelmed with the manuscripts of embryo genius. One or two stories are worth repeating of the men who applied to him, but in vain. Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, had already sold a volume of minor poems to Constable, when setting to work in earnest he went to him again; but “the Crafty” was too wise to buy a pig in a poke, and refused to have anything to do with the matter until he had seen the MS. This reasonable request the poet refused with, “What skill have you about the merit of a book?” “It may be so, Hogg,” replied the Jupiter Tonans of Scottish publishers; “but I know as well how to sell a book as any man, which should be some consequence of yours, and I know too how to buy one.” Hogg, however, easily found another publisher, and the _Queen’s Wake_ was soon as widely popular as its great merits deserved.

The other refusal, unfortunately, did not end in the same happy manner. Robert Tannahill, a Scotch weaver, whose songs in their artless sweetness, their simplicity of diction, their tenderness of sentiment, have long since won distinction, came up to Edinburgh very poor in purse, but rich in the future that poetic aspirations imaged forth. He put his manuscripts into Constable’s hands, offering the whole of them at a very small price. Day after day he waited for an answer, with a mind alternating between hope and fear. Constable, who always distrusted his own judgment in such matters, and who, perhaps, at the moment had no one else to consult, eventually returned the poems. Tannahill in a madness of despair put a period to his existence, adding one to those “young shadows” who hover round the shrine of genius, as if to warn all but the boldest from attempting to approach it.

The business of Constable’s house was now so large and extensive that he thought it a hardship that so much of his wares should pass through the hands of English agents, who not only absorbed a large share of his profits, but who could not be expected to serve him with the same zeal as his own immediate followers. He and his Edinburgh partner, therefore, in 1808, joined with Charles Hunter and John Park in commencing a general bookselling establishment in London, under the designation of Constable, Hunter, Park, and Hunter.

Shortly after this a breach that had been created between Scott and Constable widened until at last they parted. Scott always maintained that the quarrel was directly caused by the intemperate language of Hunter, Constable’s original partner; but the severance was probably in reality due to the influence of a third person--James Ballantyne--and was, perhaps to a certain extent, influenced by a feeling of pique at Jeffrey’s recent conduct. In 1808 he took a part, perhaps as a suggester, certainly as a zealous promoter, in the establishment of the _Quarterly Review_, as a political and literary counterpoise to the _Edinburgh Review_. Already, in 1805, he had become a partner in the printing house of James Ballantyne and Company, though the fact remained for the public, and for all his friends but one, a profound secret. “The forming of this connection,” says Lockhart, “was one of the most important steps in Scott’s life. He continued bound by it during twenty years, and its influence on his literary exertions and his worldly fortunes was productive of much good and not a little evil. Its effects were in truth so mixed and balanced during the vicissitudes of a long and vigorous career, that I at this moment doubt whether it ought, on the whole, to be considered with more of satisfaction or regret.” Scott’s wish, openly expressed in his correspondence, of thwarting Constable in his attempts to obtain a monopoly of Scottish literature, resulted in the establishment of a new and rival bookselling firm, under the title of John Ballantyne and Co., to which he appears to have supplied the whole capital--at any rate he subscribed his own half, with one-fourth, the portion of James Ballantyne, and not improbably also the other fourth for John Ballantyne.

John and James Ballantyne were the sons of a merchant at Kelso, and here it was they went to school with Walter Scott, and thus commenced an acquaintance so fraught with interest to all three. Early in life James Ballantyne, though not bred to the trade, nor “to the manner born,” opened a printing house at Kelso and started the _Kelso Mail_ newspaper, in which his brother John soon joined him. Having made some improvements in the art of printing, which rendered their provincial printing famous, they were persuaded to move to Edinburgh, and here they founded a press which, rivalling in its productions the works of a Baskerville or a Bensley, is at this present time as famous as ever. From their first start their old connection with Scott was serviceable, and in 1800 they printed his first important work, the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, and from the time, 1805, when he first became commercially interested in their business, they were firm friends and faithful allies. Scott, to his dying day, certainly reciprocated their kindly feelings, though Lockhart, his biographer, has since his death said very harsh things of the evil resulting from the connection. It is only fair to the Ballantynes to remember that both before and after the period of partnership with him, their house was eminently successful. In the meantime, Constable was busy publishing the works of Dugald Stewart, who at this time occupied the same place in metaphysics as Sir Walter did in poetry. The _Philosophical Essays_, published in 1810, excited great, and even popular, attention. He also became the proprietor of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, for which he paid an enormous price, and to which he published an excellent supplement. We shall, however, treat more fully of the _Encyclopædia_ in connection with Mr. Adam Black. We may here mention, as among Constable’s other successful publications, Wood’s excellent edition of Douglas’s _Scottish Peerage_, and Chalmers’ _Caledonia_.

The London branch was found to be unattended with the expected advantages, and was given up in 1811. In the early part of this same year Hunter retired from the Edinburgh house, upon which Constable, acting upon the liberal view he always entertained as to the value of his stock, and being, perhaps, not unwilling to impress the world with an exalted idea of his property, allowed his partner a greater amount of actual cash (£17,000 is understood to be the sum) than was really his due. Robert Cathcart, of Drum, writer-to-the-signet, and Robert Cadell, then a clerk in his employ, were admitted as partners. Cathcart, however, dying the following year, Cadell remained Constable’s sole partner.

Constable had, of course, felt considerably hurt at Scott’s desertion. Sometimes it is related he would pace up and down the room, as was his wont, raving grandiloquently of those who kick down the ladder by which they have risen. But now that Hunter had left the firm, and now that it was found that the new _Quarterly_ did not in the least damage the value of the old one, a reconciliation could not but take place between men who had formerly been so friendly, and on the publication of the _Lady of the Lake_, Constable willingly gave the Ballantynes the value of his experience and trade knowledge, though he was not directly interested in the work.

The new poem was published just before the season for excursions, and thousands rushed off at once to view the scenery of Loch Katrine; and it is a well-ascertained fact that from the date of the appearance of this volume, assisted by subsequent of his publications, the post-horse duty in Scotland rose in an extraordinary degree.

Scott now found out that his move to the Ballantynes had not been attended with the success he expected. John Ballantyne proved but an irregular hand at book-keeping, and James was too much addicted to good cheer (or Lockhart sadly belies him) to be really serviceable as a business man. In vain did Scott write amusing letters of remonstrance; the publisher’s business was neglected, and the firm, as booksellers, fell into difficulties. Constable was appealed to, and, finally, for £2000 consented to purchase most of the stock, and a complete business reconciliation was effected between him and Scott. The Ballantynes, however, still maintained their printing house, in which Scott was secretly the principal proprietor, and at which he insisted that all his own works should at all times, no matter who the publisher, be printed.

About the year 1805 Scott had written a third part of a novel, which was advertised by John Ballantyne, under the title of _Waverley_, but he was unwilling to risk the loss of his poetical reputation by attempting a new style of composition. He, therefore, threw aside the work, and stumbling upon it in 1811, when his poetical reputation was beginning to wane, and soon after he had threatened, half in fun and half in earnest, “If I fail now I will write prose for life,” he at once completed the story. The current rumour of the new novel having been rejected by several London publishers, is entirely untrue. The work was printed by the Ballantynes, and through the whole series the greatest secrecy as to the author’s name was preserved. James Ballantyne himself transcribed the “copy,” and copied Scott’s corrections on to a duplicate proof sheet; nor was there a single instance of treachery throughout the whole time of the secret.

When the printed volumes of _Waverley_ were put into Constable’s hands, he did not for a moment doubt its authorship, but at once offered £700 for the copyright: this, we must remember, for a work to be published anonymously, at a time when Miss Edgeworth, the most popular novelist of her day, had never realized a like sum. The offer was, however, declined, and ultimately an arrangement was come to by which author and publisher were to share the profits.

_Waverley_ took two or three months to win public favour, and then a perfect _furore_ set in. Sloop-load after sloop-load was sent off to the London market, and on the rumoured loss of one of these vessels, half London was in despair. The interest, too, excited by public curiosity as to the author’s name, was carefully fostered, and in a short time 12,000 copies were disposed of.

Scott employed part of his literary gain in purchasing a property within three miles of Melrose, and gradually enlarged the dwelling-house until it became a castellated mansion of considerable size. The desire of becoming an extensive landed proprietor, became with him a far stronger passion than any craving for literary fame. It was more his desire, according to James Ballantyne himself, to “add as much as possible to the little realm of Abbotsford, in order that he might take his place, not among the great literary names which posterity is to revere, but among the country gentlemen of Roxburghshire.”

Under the influence of this infatuation, Scott produced a series of novels, of which it will suffice to state the names and dates.

To _Waverley_ succeeded, in 1815, _Guy Mannering_; in 1816, _The Antiquary_, and the first series of the _Tales of My Landlord_, containing _The Black Dwarf_ and _Old Mortality_; in 1818, _Rob Roy_ and the second series of the _Tales of My Landlord_, containing the _Heart of Mid Lothian_; and, in 1819, the third series, containing the _Bride of Lammermoor_ and a _Legend of Montrose_. _Ivanhoe_ was to have been issued as a separate work, by another anonymous author, so as to spur the interest of a public that might possibly be flagging; but the publication of a novel in London, pretending to be a fourth series of the _Tales of My Landlord_, determined him to produce it as the veritable production of the author of _Waverley_. This was followed in quick succession by _The Monastery_ and _The Abbot_, in 1820; _Kenilworth_ and _The Pirate_, in 1821; _The Fortunes of Nigel_ and _Hallidan Hill_, a dramatic poem, for the copyright of which Constable gave £1000, in 1822; _Peveril of the Peak_, _Quentin Durward_, and _St. Ronan’s Well_, in 1823; _Red Gauntlet_, in 1824; and _Woodstock_, in 1825.

The vast amount of business arising from these publications, produced in Constable’s mind a conviction that he was a wealthy and prosperous man. Though never possessed of much free capital, he saw around him every day such proofs of an enlarging amount of stock, that nothing less than the demonstration of figures--a demonstration he cordially hated--could have given him greater assurance of his affluent condition. Like Scott, he, too, was intoxicated with success. He had a magnificent way of transacting all business, and living rather like a princely father of letters, than a tradesman aiming at making them subservient to his use, he was led into an expenditure beyond his means.

Another error lay in his yielding to Scott’s desire for money, and the means of raising money by pre-payment for literary work yet to be accomplished. Of Scott’s profits on his works, Lockhart makes the following statements: “Before Sir Walter went to London, in November, 1821, he concluded another negotiation of importance with the house of Constable and Co. They agreed to give, for the remaining copyright of the four novels published between December, 1819, and January, 1821--to wit _Ivanhoe_, _The Monastery_, _The Abbot_, and _Kenilworth_--the sum of five thousand guineas. The stipulation about not revealing the author’s name under a penalty of £2000, was repeated. By these four novels, the fruits of scarcely more than a twelve months’ labour, he had already cleared at least £10,000 before this bargain was completed.... I cannot pretend to guess what the actual state of Scott’s pecuniary affairs was at the time when John Ballantyne’s death relieved them from one great source of complication and difficulty.... He must (in his improvements at Abbotsford) have reckoned on clearing £30,000, at least, in the course of two years, by the novels written within the period, and the publishers, as we have seen, were willing to give him £6000, within the space of two years, for works of a less serious sort, likely to be despatched at leisure hours, without at all interfering with the main manufacture. But, alas! even this was not all.... Before _The Fortunes of Nigel_ issued from the press, Scott had exchanged instruments, and received his bookseller’s bills for no less than “four works of fiction,” not one of them otherwise described in the deeds of agreement. And within two years all this anticipation had been wiped off by _Peveril of the Peak_, _Quentin Durward_, _St. Ronan’s Well_, and _Red Gauntlet_; and the new castle was at that time complete, and overflowing with all its splendour; but by that time the end was also approaching!”

To return for a moment to Constable’s life as apart from the author of _Waverley_; he had, as we have seen, entertained in early years strong literary aspirations, and he repeatedly expressed a touching regret at the nonfulfilment of his hopes. The only literary efforts that have been distinctly traced to his pen consist of an edition of _Lamont’s Diary_, in 1810; a compilation of the poetry contained in the Waverley Novels, and the composition of a small volume which appeared in 1822, under the title of _Memoirs of George Heriot_, jeweller to King James, containing an account of the hospital founded by him at Edinburgh. In 1816 he lost his wife, and in 1818 he married Miss Charlotte Neale, who survived him. In the early part of 1822 his health suffered so severely that he was obliged to sojourn in the south for a while. In 1823, though professedly a Whig in politics, he was included by the liberal policy of the Government in a list of new magistrates for the city of Edinburgh; and in the same year he moved from the warehouse, which he had occupied for twenty years in the High Street, to an elegant mansion in the New Town, adjacent to the Register House, which had become his own through his second wife.

Constable had at this time all the personal and outward appearance of a successful man. He was stout and portly in body, and rather defiant and imperious in his manner. Among the trade he was known as the “Czar of Muscovy;” of the London potentates, John Murray had earned the _sobriquet_ of the “Emperor of the West,” and Longman and his string of partners as the “Divan.” Constable had christened John Ballantyne the “Dey of Algiers,” but, as John complained, had subsequently deposed him. The “Czar,” however, was too fond of these nicknames. Longman was one day dining with him: “What fine swans you have on your pond there,” quoth the Londoner. “Swans,” cried Constable, “they are only geese, man! There are just five of them, if you please to observe, and their names are Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown.” This skit cost “the Crafty” a good bargain.

About the year 1825, Constable devised a scheme greater than any he had yet floated, and the adoption of which was eventually destined to effect an entire revolution in the bookselling trade. After long study of the annual schedule of tax-payers, he established his premises clearly enough. There was undoubtedly an immense majority of respectable British families who never thought of buying a book. “Look,” he cried to Scott, “at the small class of people who pay the powder tax, what a trifle it is to each, and yet what a fortune it would bring to a bookseller! If I live for half-a-dozen years,” he continued, “I shall make it as impossible that there should not be a good library in every decent house in Great Britain, as that the shepherd’s ingle nook should want the ‘saut poke.’”

“Troth,” said Scott, “if you live you are indeed likely to be

‘The great Napoleon of the realms of _print_.’”

“If you outlive me,” retorted Constable, “I bespeak that line for my tombstone.... At three shillings or half-a-crown a volume every month, which must and shall sell, not by thousands, and tens of thousands, but by hundreds of thousands, and, ay, by millions! Twelve volumes in the year, a halfpenny of profit on every copy of which will make me richer than all the copyrights of all the quartos that ever were, or ever will be, hot-pressed! Twelve volumes so good that millions must wish to possess them, and so cheap that every butcher callant may have them if he pleases to let me tax him sixpence a week!”

Scott saw the feasibility of the scheme, and it was decided to start at once with a life of the “other Napoleon,” and a portion of one of the “Waverley Novels.”

But, alas! before the plan could be carried into execution, the crisis came. Lockhart received a letter from London stating that Constable’s London banker had thrown up his book, and he galloped over at once to Sir Walter’s, who smiled, re-lit his cigar, took the news coolly, and declined to believe it, and for the moment he was right.

Lockhart’s account of the terrible failure in which Scott was involved is this: Whenever Constable signed a bill for the purpose of raising money among the bankers, for fear of accident, or any neglect in taking the bill up before it fell due, he deposited a counter-bill, signed by Ballantyne, on which, if need were, Constable might raise a sum of money equivalent to that for which he had pledged his word; but these counter-bills were allowed to lie in Constable’s desk till they assumed the size of a “sheaf of stamps;” and when the hour of distress came, Constable rushed with these bills to the money-changers, and thus the Ballantynes who were liable to Constable for, say £25,000, were legally liable for £50,000. Constable, in his turn, carried on the same game with the London house of Hurst, Robinson, and Co., his agents--and upon a much larger scale. They neglected their own business of bookselling and entered heavily into speculation in hops, and in the panic of the close of 1825, availed themselves of Constable’s credit, and he of the Ballantynes, and the loss descended upon their principal partner, Scott.

This account has been contradicted by the representatives of John Ballantyne, in two pamphlets, refuting Lockhart’s history of the affair, and proving their side of the question by reference to the old account books; Cadell, Constable’s quondam partner, and certainly not biassed in his favour, throws his vote in with the Ballantynes. The responsibilities they undertook were solely at the bidding of Scott, and for his benefit; and in proof of this, they quote a clause from the last deed of partnership, dated 1st April, 1822.

“The said Sir Walter Scott shall remain liable for such bills and debts as there shall be due and current.”

When the persons most interested differ vitally, it is hard to decide; however, the result of it all was, that when Hurst, Robinson, and Co. stopped payment in London, Constable failed for upwards of a quarter of a million, and the Ballantynes were also bankrupt to the extent of £88,607 19_s._ 9_d._ It was in the middle of January, 1826, that the actual crash came. Splendid and magnificent to the very last, Constable rushed off to town as fast as post-horses could carry him. He drove straight to Lockhart’s house, “and asked me,” says that gentleman, “to accompany him as soon as he could get into his carriage to the Bank of England, and support him (as a confidential friend of the author of the ‘Waverley Novels’) in his application for a loan of £100,000 to £200,000 on the security of the copyrights in his possession”--a proposal that would have rather startled the old lady of Threadneedle-street, who was, at that time of unparalleled panic, according to Mr. Huskisson’s subsequent confession in the House, on the very verge of suspending payment herself. When Lockhart refused--and, of course, without direct instructions from Sir Walter, he could not hazard such a step--Constable became livid with rage, stamped on the ground, and swore that he could and would go alone.