Poetical Works | Page 3

possessed a chestful of his father's,
and used to read them frequently, by way of grateful change to his
hearers. The sermons of the elder Godwin were recognised by the

orthodoxy of their sentiment, and the dinginess of their colour, and
were much relished; and so long as the stock lasted, the future author of
"Caleb Williams" commanded a tolerable audience; but so soon as he
had read them all, and resumed his own lucubrations, his hearers
melted away, and he moved off to become a literateur in London.
Perhaps Churchill, in like manner, may have found that general
audiences like plain sense better than poetry. That he had ever much
real piety or zeal has been gravely doubted, and we share in the doubts.
But although he himself speaks slightingly, in one of his latter poems,
of his ministerial labours, he at least played his part with outward
decorum. His great objection to the office was still his small salary,
which amounted to scarcely £100 per annum. This compelled him to
resume the occupation of a tutor, first to the young ladies attending a
boarding-school in Queen Square, Bloomsbury, and then to several
young gentlemen who were prosecuting the study of the classics.
When about twenty-seven years of age, he renewed his acquaintance
with Robert Lloyd, the son of Dr Lloyd, one of the masters of
Westminster School, and who had been an early chum of Churchill's.
This young man had discovered very promising abilities, alike at
Westminster and at Cambridge, and had been appointed usher in his
father's seminary; but, sick of the drudgery, and infected with a fierce
thirst both for fame and pleasure, had flung himself upon the literary
arena. Although far inferior to Churchill in genius, and indeed little
better than a clever copyist of his manner, he exerted a very pernicious
influence on his friend's conduct. He borrowed inspiration from
Churchill, and gave him infamy in exchange. The poet could do
nothing by halves. Along with Lloyd, he rushed into a wild career of
dissipation. He became a nightly frequenter of the theatres, taverns, and
worse haunts. His wife, with whom, after the first year, he never seems
to have been happy, instead of checking, outran her husband in
extravagance and imprudence. He got deeply involved in debt, and was
repeatedly in danger of imprisonment, till Dr Lloyd, his friend's father,
nobly stept forward to his relief, persuaded his creditors to accept five
shillings in the pound, and himself lent what was required to complete
the sum. It is said that, when afterwards Churchill had made money by
the sale of his poems, he voluntarily paid the whole of the original debt.

Along with the new love of indulgence, there had arisen in his bosom
the old love of verse. Stimulated by intercourse with Lloyd, Colman, B.
Thornton, and other wits of the period, he had written a poem, in
Hudibrastic rhyme, entitled "The Bard." This he offered to one Waller,
a bookseller in Fleet Street, who rejected it with scorn. In this feeling
Churchill seems afterwards to have shared, as he never would consent
to its publication. Not at all discouraged, he sat down and wrote a satire
entitled "The Conclave," directed against the Dean and Chapter of
Westminster,--Dr Zachary Pearce, a favourite of Churchill's ire, being
then Dean. This would have been published but for the fear of legal
proceedings. It was extremely personal and severe. His third effort was
destined to be more successful. This was "The Rosciad," written, it is
said, after two months' close attendance on the theatres. This
excessively clever satire he offered to various booksellers, some say for
twenty pounds, others for five guineas. It was refused, and he had to
print it at his own expense. It appeared, without his name, in March
1761. Churchill now, like Byron, "awoke one morning and found
himself famous." A few days convinced him and all men that a decided
hit had been made, and that a strong new satirist had burst, like a comet,
into the sky--
"With fear of change perplexing" players.
The effect was prodigious. The critics admired--the victims of his satire
writhed and raved--the public greedily bought, and all cried out, "Who
can this be?" The Critical Review, then conducted by Smollett, alone
opposed the general opinion. It accused Colman and Lloyd of having
concocted "The Rosciad," for the purpose of puffing themselves. This
compelled Churchill to quit his mask. He announced his name as the
author of the poem, and as preparing another--his
"Apology"--addressed to the Critical Reviewers, which accordingly
appeared ere the close of April. It proved a second bombshell, cast into
the astonished town. Smollett was keenly assailed in it, and had to write
to Churchill, through Garrick, that he was not the writer of