He subsequently adds:— “To be known as a writer is certainly to your prejudice.
“First, people presume you are not what they call a gentleman; and the grandfather who, if you were a banker or a butcher, or of any other calling or profession, would be left quiet in his tomb, is evoked against you.”
Mr Bulwer then proceeds with a variety of argument to prove that literary men are not Maecenased by either the government or aristocracy of Great Britain. He points out the advantages which the French literati have from their Institute, the ennoblements, the decorations, and pensions which they receive; and certainly makes out a strong case.
The author of the “Diary” would attempt to deny the statements of Mr Bulwer; but, in the very denial, she admits all his points but one—to wit that they are not so well received by the aristocracy in England as they are in France.
She says—
“What does Henry Bulwer mean by the assertion that literary men are more eagerly welcomed in society here than in England?
“They occupy, perhaps, a more independent and honourable position, are less exposed to being lionised by patronising dowagers, and more sure of obtaining public preferment; but, with the exception of Mignet and Mérimée—who are courted for their personal merits and official standing rather than for their literary distinctions—I have scarcely met one of them. To the parties of the ministers of the Grand Referendaire, and other public functionaries, artists and men of letters are admitted as part of a political system; but they are not to be found—like Moore, Rogers, Chantrey, Newton, and others—in the boudoirs of the élite, or the select fêtes of a Devonshire House.
“The calling of ‘un homme de lettres’ is here, however, a profession bearing its own rewards and profits, and forming an especial and independent class. In common with the artists they look to ennoblement in the Academy, and under the existing order of things have been richly endowed with places and pensions.”
It appears then, in France, that to the parties of ministers, etcetera, they are admitted as a part of the political system; and further, that they have been festered by the government, by being ennobled and richly endowed with places and pensions. Therefore, upon his opponent’s own showing, Henry Bulwer has made out his case. In another part of the same work there is the following amusing passage, in advice given by a lady of fashion to her protégée upon entering into London society.
“‘Pore over their books as much as you please, but do not so much as dip into the authors,’ said she, when I proposed an introduction to one of the most popular authors of the day. ‘These people expend their spirit on their works—the part that walks through society is a mere lump of clay, like the refuse of the wine-press after the wine has been expressed.’ In conversing with a clever author you sometimes see a new idea brighten his eye or create a smile round his lip; but for worlds he would not give it utterance. It belongs to his next work, and is instantly booked in the ledger of his daily thoughts, value 3 shillings 6 pence. The man’s mind is his mine; he can’t afford to work it gratis, or give away the produce.”