“The poet [Goldsmith] has celebrated him as the friend of all mankind; he certainly lost nothing by his friendship. He coined the brains of authors in the times of their exigency, and made them pay dear for the plank put out to keep them from drowning. It is not likely his death caused much lamentation among the scribbling tribe.”
One difficulty Newbery had to contend with was the piracy of his books; there was no adequate protection afforded by the copyright system, and we read of Goldsmith and Johnson bewailing the literary thievery of the day. By some it was regarded as a custom to be accepted; by others as a deplorable condition beyond control. Early American authorship suffered from the same evil, and Irving and Cooper were the two prominent victims.
The book list of Isaiah Thomas (1749–1831), the Worcester, Massachusetts printer, shows how freely he drew from the London bookseller. Called by many the Didot of America, founder of the American Antiquarian Society, author of one of the most authentic histories of early printing in this country, he is the pioneer of children’s books for America. He scattered his presses and stores over a region embracing Worcester and Boston, Mass.; Concord, N. H.; Baltimore, Md.; and Albany, N. Y. Books were kept by him, so he vouched, specially for the instruction and amusement of children, to make them safe and happy. In his “Memoirs” there is found abundant material to satisfy one as to the nature of reading for young folks in New England, previous to the Revolution.
Emerson writes in his “Spiritual Laws” regarding “theological problems”; he calls them “the soul’s mumps and measles and whooping-cough.” Already the sombre sternness of Colonial literature for children has been typified in the “New England Primer.” The benefits of divine songs and praises; the reiteration of the joy to parents, consequent upon the behaviour of godly children; the mandates, the terrible finger of retribution, the warning to all sinners lurking in the throat disease which was prevalent at one time—all these ogres rise up in the Thomas book to crush juvenile exuberance. Does it take much description to get at the miserable heart of the early piety displayed by the heroines of Cotton Mather’s volumes, those stone images of unthinkable children who passed away early, who were reclaimed from disobedience, “children in whom the fear of God was remarkably budding before they died”? Writers never fail to say, in speaking of Thomas White’s “Little Book for Children” (reprint of 1702), that its immortality, in the face of all its theology, is centred in one famous untheological line, “A was an archer who shot at a frog.”
What Thomas did, when he began taking from Newbery, was to change colloquial English terms to fit new environment; the coach no longer belongs to the Lord Mayor, but to the Governor instead.[29] The text is only slightly altered. We recognise the same little boys who would become great masters; the same ear-marks stigmatise the heroines of “The Juvenile Biographer,” insufferable apostles of surname-meaning, Mistresses Allgood, Careful, and Lovebook, together with Mr. Badenough. Oh, Betsey and Nancy and Amelia and Billy, did you know what it was to romp and play?
The evident desire on the part of Miss Hewins, in her discussion of early juvenile books, to emphasise the playful, in her quotations from Thomas’ stories, only indicates that there was little levity to deal with. Those were the days of gilded “Gifts” and “Delights”; the pleasures of childhood were strangely considered; goodness was inculcated by making the hair stand on end in fright, by picturing to the naughty boy what animal he was soon to turn into, and what foul beast’s disposition was akin to that of the fractious girl. Intentions, both of an educational and religious nature, were excellent, no doubt; but, when all is estimated, the residue presents a miserable, lifeless ash.[30]
So far no distinctive writer for children has arisen. The volumes issued by Newbery represent a conscious attempt to appeal through form to the juvenile eye. If the books were addressed intentionally to children, their amusement consisted in some extraneous novelty; it was rarely contained in the story. Action rather than motive is the redeeming feature of “Goody Two Shoes.” As for religious training, it was administered to the child with no regard for his individual needs. He represented a theological stage of sin; the world was a long dark road, through the maze of which, by his birth, he was doomed to fight his little way. Life was a probationary period.
It is now necessary to leave the New England book, and to return to it through another channel. The viewpoint shifts slightly; a new element is to be added: a self-conscious recognition of education for children. The sternness of the “New England Primer” possessed strength. The didactic school, retaining the moral factor,—several points removed from theology—sentimentalised it; for many a day it was to exist in juvenile literature rampant. And, overflowing its borders, it was to influence later chap-books, and some of the later publications of Thomas and Newbery. Through Hannah More, it was to grip Peter Parley, and finally to die out on American shores. For “Queechy” and “The Wide, Wide World” represent the final flowering of this style. In order to retain a clear connection, it is necessary to watch both streams, educational and moral, one at first blending with the other, and flourishing in this country through a long list of New England authors, until, in the end, the educational, increasing in volume, conquered altogether.
Bibliographical Note
The Babees Book—Ed. Frederick J. Furnivall, M.A. Published for the Early English Text Society. London, Trübner, 1868.