POETRY AND POVERTY.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19069, 15 January 1924, Page 4

POETRY AND POVERTY.

By A. 11. Bkemneb

(Written for the Otago Daily Times.)

Barely indeed have literary genius and business ability gone together. Many poems, books, and plays have,brought in a great deal of money, but all too frequently it was not the author, but the publisher, who reaped the harvest. Quite often the writer know the value of his work, but necessity compelled its immediate sale. And the publisher, knowing this, dictated iho terms. It would appear that poets in particular lack business acumen. Too often their lives were a continual struggle with poverty, for, aa a class they were. and. indeed, still are, a dreamy lot, without much idea of the value of money, and with absolutely no idea of making any provision for the morrow. On those rare occasions when Fortune smiled, they lived onlv in the present, and took no thought of the future. This lias been so in all times and applies to poets of every nationality. Forster, in his “Life of Goldsmith,” quotes “the great fat Doctor Cheyne, of Bath,” as having said, that, “as you put a bird’s eyes out to make it sing the sweeter, you should keep poets poor to animate their genius.” Harsh to the verge of inhumanity .as this, idea is, it contains, nevertheless, more than a degree of truth. In the case of Goldsmith himself, were it not that necessity' compelled him to write it, how much would ho have written? Certainly not so much as he did. It is true, however, that most of his work done under compulsion, was his poorest, and not a little, as his “Animated Nature,” quite unreliable. Still, it is all good reading. To the penury of many of the old-time writers wo owe a debt which we can never pay. Indeed, much of that literature which we so delight to road, which caters for every humour, which contains something appropriate tor -every hour from the cradle to the grave, was written ,of necessity, in misery and distress. Johnson wrote “Rcsselas” while his mother lay dead in the house, that he might defray the expenses of her funeral. On more than one occasion Goldsmith’s creditors stood by his side while he wrote, and took away the pages one by one ere yet the ink was dry. On the walls of a mad-houso cell Kit Smart wrote his “Song of David.” His writings tended in no way to alleviate the poverty of Cervantes, for, though “Don Quixote” was received with unbounded enthusiasm, it added next to nothing to the finances of its author, who, hut for the generosity of the Count of Lemos, would have died in want. A fine, chivalrous old figure old Cervantes has always appeared to me. Dogged and harassed by ill fortune and poverty, broken in health and disabled by wounds, yet in spite of all ever maintaining that dignity and knightly demeanour passible only to the truly g?eat. The finances of Daniel Defoe were always in a state of chaos, and more than Once he had to floe the country to escape his creditors. It is interesting to note that to this -misfortune we are indebted for the only description we have of his personal appearance. In an advertisement intended to lead to his apprehension, we read: “A middle-sized, spare man about forty years old, of a brown complexion, and dark brown-coloured hair, but wears a wig; a hooked nose, a sharp chin, grey eyes, and a large mole near his mouth.” In connection with Christopher Smart, we have rather a good story of Dr Johnson. The unfortunate Smart,-had worn threadbare the patience of alb hi?; friends ejeopt Johnson and Goldsmith,-who after his committal to the mud-hob se exerted themselves for his release. “I did not think he ought to be shut up,” said Johnson to Burney. “His infirmities were not noxious to society. He insisted on people praying with him; and I’d as lief pray with Kit Smart as anyone else. Another charge was that he did not love clean linen ; and I have no passion for it.” Poverty was responsible for many and varied incidents in the life of George Gascoigne, and included marriage with a wealthy widow, and, like Defoe, fleeing the country to escape the importunities of his creditors. Just what measure of success attended the first venture we do not know; but the second led to his seeing service under the Prince of Orange and being taken prisoner by the Spaniards. He was released after a few months, and returned to England. To retrieve his fortunes Samuel Butler also -married a widow, “a Mrs Herbert, a widow with a jointure, which, however, was lost. ” An immediate popularity awaited “Hudibras,” but brought little reward to its author, who was neglected and died in poverty. _ “Intensely proud,” writes one of his biographers of Dean Swift. ‘Tie suffered bitterly in youth and early manhood from the ‘humiliations of poverty and _ dependence, which preyed upon a mind in which fhe seeds of insanity were latent until it became dominated by a ferocious misanthropy.” How, and in what state the later vears of the great satirist were spent we all know, and just how far this oarlv poverty and dependence was responsible, who can tell? A bitter hatred, rather than being mellowed and softener] by age. increased in virulence and vindictiveness: and there is no state more _ pitiable than that of envenomed and malicious old ago. Poverty was responsible for the early demise of Thomas Chatterton. the . most wonderful of all youthful geniuses, and one of the most interesting figures in the literary world. The story of his rise to fame is like a fairv-tale. Ho was born at Bristol in 1752. the son of a schoolmaster and cathedral singer. At a parish school he received his only regular education, and there he was considered a dull boy. From infancy all kinds of antiquities had a strange fascination for him and “ho clung round old walls like, the ivy. and haunted twilight ruins like the bat.” At the age of 14 he was apprenticed to an attorney, one Mr Lambert, and about that time he commenced to imitate some old documents he had seen in St. Marv Redcliffe. and thus began the series of forgeries known as the “Rowley Poems.” which ho claimed to he- the work of Thomas Rowley, a fifteenth century monk. Many of the foremost literary men of tho day, including Horace Walpole, wore at first deceived: hut at length suspicion was aroused, and the manuscripts wore submitted to the examination of experts, who pronounced them forgeries. Chefterton was dismissed from Lambert’s office, and went to London, where, for a time, he met with considerable success. Hard times came for him, however, and, failing to get an appointment as surgeon's mate on a ship rroing to Africa he poisoned himself. The floor of the bedroom where his lifeless bodv was found was littered with his writings, torn into small pieces. And all this before he had reached the ago of 18 years. The balance of his profit and loss which Chattorton struck after the death of his natron. Lord Mayor Beckford, will ever he remembered. He had sent an essay to tho North Briton which, though accented was not published, owing to the Lord Mayor’s death. This event ho calculated as affecting his finances as follows:

Financial difficulties combined the worries of an unsuitable marriage drove Adam Lindsay Gordon to suicide. O. Henry died in poverty, and in tho same state, and by his own hand, died Richard Middleton. While It is unlikely that at tho time of his death John Davidson was worried financially. in the c-arly stages of his career poverty had persistently dogged him till bo became embittered, and, it is to be feared, vindictively jealous of those more succcossful, though loss talented than himself. Success came to him comparatively late in life. The Government granted him a pension of £IOO a year. Mr Grant Richards, the publisher, offered a like amount regularly for his poetry. From a monetary point of view things seemed to bo looking up for the poet. But it was too late. The discontentment and jealousy bred of his earlier humiliations made him sarcastic of his improved position. ami tho fear of cancer, probably a groundless one, drove him to take his own life. ‘The time has corns to make an end.” Thus lie wrote in the preface to ‘‘Fleet Street,” his last work. “Them arc several motives. I find my pension is not enough: I have therefore still to turn aside and attempt things for which people will pay. My health also counts. Asthma and other annoyances I have tolerated for yea is; hut I cannot put up w'tb cancer.” Dozens of evamnlcs of a similar nature might be cited. The pity of it that thus so frequently should poetry and poverty go hand in hand. It is a country’s duty, seldom recognised, to do well by its poets. By them are written its senes; through their endeavours >s decided its place If the literary sun ; theirs are the legacies to generations unborn; and it is as much by

its literature os by anything else that a nation is judged. The poet, in obscurity and despair, dogged by the hounds of necessity and want, does more to perpetuate the glory of his country than its greatest statesman, glorified by all tho pomp and splendour of the political limelight. There is no doubt about it that tho poet more than tuo statesman is responsible for the measure of his country’s greatness. Compare their _ tasks. The statesman has to contend with merely his contemporaries: the work of the poet must stand comparison with that of writers of all time. Tho influence of the former ceases almost with his demise; that of tho poet is not unfreque.itbunfelt till that event. Tt is an unequal contest, add, unfortunately, is attended bv n still more unequal reward. The inan of affairs is feted and salaried; the poet is starved and unpaid.

£ s. d. Lost hy liis death in this essay ... 1 11 6 Gained in elegies £2 2, 0 Gained in essays 3 3 0 — — 55 0 Am glad he is dead by ... £3 13 5