By the Rev. J. E. Jackson. 113 



commenced in the most humble departments of literature. The first 

 partnership speculation was a song called " The Powder Tax ; or a 

 Puff at the Guinea Pigs" written by Brayley and sung by Britton 

 publicly at a club held at the Jacob's Well, Barbican, where a mot- 

 ley assemblage of smokers and tipplers met once a week to hear 

 theatrical repetitions. The new ditt)' was encored, printed, and 

 more than 70,000 copies sold by a song-dealer, who pirated this 

 first publication of the two young authors. 



The period between the release from the wine-cellar and the 

 adoption of literature as a profession, embraced about seven years 

 of privation and vicissitude, occasionallj'' relieved by employment 

 that produced a bare livelihood. In very poor and obscure lodgings 

 at eighteenpence a week he indulged in study, often reading in bed 

 during the winter evenings to save the cost of firing. When the 

 finances were in tolerable order he frequented " Free and eas)^" 

 "Odd-fellows," and "Spouting clubs;" though never allowing his 

 expenses to exceed sixpence a night at any of these choice associa- 

 tions. The next step was to Debating Societies, private theatricals 

 and lectures, the last being rare. 



But the first and all absorbing object after leaving Mr. Mend- 

 ham's service was to undertake a journey on foot to Plympton in 

 Devonshire, to renew with matrimonial intent the attachment 

 formed for the goddess of the wine-cellar. Mr. Britton describes 

 this toilsome journey and its result in a very amusing manner. 

 The fair but faithless Dulcinea, some years older and apparently 

 much wiser than himself, declined the suit, and he set off home 

 again in a state of mental misery. At Bath lie failed in obtaining 

 an engagement as cellar-man at the White Hart TTotel, and returned 

 to the metropolis shoeless, shirtless, and almost penniless. A short 

 engagement at tlie liondon Tavern was followed by another as 

 clerk to a widow in Smithfield ; but the knavery and hj'pocrisy of 

 the establisliment disgusting him, ho accepted a situation in the 

 office of a Mr. Simpson, Attorney, in Gray's Inn, where he remained 

 for three years at the wages of fifteen shillings a week. Tlie busi- 

 ness not being overwhelming gave him plenty of time for excursion 

 in lighter walks, the drama, novels and poetry : and his income, 



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