| “Indeed, Ma’am,” said Lionel, “I may venture to answer for all, that we had rather go to bed supperless, on condition of passing as many more agreeable hours as we have done this evening.” --child begs for extra educational instruction in Evenings Rationally Employed, or Moral and Entertaining Incentives to Virtue and Improvement, by W. Helme (1803) |
The soldier's widow; or, school boys' collection, British Museum (detail, colorized by Chatgpt) One of the books I examined was a book for children written by William Helme, the schoolteacher husband of the hard-working author Elizabeth Helme. His book is a typical example of the children’s literature of the day, and that’s why I want to talk about it—because it is so typical. It is a compilation of material plagiarized (as we would call it today) from authors of natural history, strung together with a narrative about some children and the wise adult who instructs them and judiciously corrects their faults. Other examples of children’s literature of this type discussed in this blog can be found here and also here. Authors of this type of book did not hold back on their opinions about social issues, as we will see.
Botanical print, British Museum In this brisk-moving narrative, Mr. Melville, an educated gentleman, has fallen on hard times and takes in some pupils. Luckily for him, his students are eager to be instructed--to put it mildly--and are easily reformed out of their faults. For example, Mr. Melville takes in a crippled child who had been bullied in his previous school. The other kids tease him. As punishment, Mr. Melville doesn’t let them go to a neighbour’s birthday party, but when they instantly apologize, he relents. He awakens their charitable impulses by helping a poor widow and her children, and the book ends with a strong denunciation of slavery.
I’m rather intrigued by the freedom with which children’s books were cobbled together with plagiarized material. It’s easy to spot the plagiarized bits because they always start right after one of the children says something like, “Pray, madam, tell us about the eider duck.” And the adult launches into a lecture about ducks, to which the children listen with rapt attention. In Evenings Rationally Employed, we have:
“Mr. Melville offered to instruct them about ants.
“Every tongue was immediately in motion, to express how highly they should deem themselves gratified by the recital… and Mr. Melville began as follows: 'The ants are a little people, united, like the bees, into a republic, which, if we may be allowed the expression, has its own peculiar laws and politics'” (etc.)
This same discourse about ants can be found in The Wonders of Nature and Art (1850); The Young Lady’s Introduction to Natural History (1766); and Zoography; or the Beauties of Nature displayed (1807); but originates in Spectacle de la Nature by the Abbé Pluche, first translated in 1743. While some authors acknowledge that their children's books were compiled “from the writings of the most eminent authors,” Helme does not.
The climax of the book, if there can said to be a climax, is a strong denunciation of slavery, followed by an explanation that God’s ways are unknowable to man. There is also a story, no doubt borrowed from somewhere else, about two noble young blacks taken into slavery who commit suicide rather than submit to degradation. Mr. Melville’s neighbour, Mr. Jefferies, begins with a condemnation of the reconquest of Jerusalem in 1099 AD, blaming the Crusaders for barbaric slaughter.
| “[Shedding] the blood of upwards of seventy thousand Mahometans, as they spared neither age or sex, nor even infants at the breast. The rage of slaughter then ceased, and strange to tell, a religious frenzy succeeded! – The Christian conquerors, with hands stained with gore, marched over heaps of dead to the holy sepulchre, and chaunted anthems to the mild messenger of peace.” “Tis strange indeed,” said Mr. Jefferies, “that the professors of a religion, should entitle any one to be esteemed a real member of it; though there are many of those in question, who will, if asked, gravely tell you, they firmly believe every scriptural text—Should you even enquire whether they suppose all men sprung from Adam, they would answer yes; and yet these motley and equivocal Christians, will not allow their sable brethren to be of the same species with themselves.” “These are the beings whom, with the most barbarous oppression, we deprive of liberty, bow down with unrequired labour, and reward with cruel stripes—Poor heathen negroes, thy day of peace will come! –Blush, civilized European, blush; and when thou art sinking under the baneful poison of the yellow fever, remorse will, perhaps, though late, dictate to thy repentant soul—“'Tis by such means as these, Afric, that Providence doth avenge thee.''” |
| “Why does Providence permit the poor blacks to be so badly treated?” [one of the children asks]. “It is not for frail mortality to pry into the secret and hidden paths of unerring wisdom, —the most sublime act of human reason, is to submit and adore. --While man confines himself to things that are unveiled, he so far performs his duty; but he hath no right to scrutinize into the system by which he is governed.—His knowledge and strength are most judiciously limited by bounds suitable to his wants. The sum total of all human knowledge ought, therefore, to consist in making a prudent use of our Creator’s benevolence, in what he has vouchsafed to reveal, and in giving him the glory.” The discourse here ceased for the evening, and the young gentlemen immediately retired to their apartments. THE END. |
The Helmes lived for a time in this apartment building at Paddington Street in London. Mr. Helme’s book received an approving review from The Literary Journal: “Several remarkable and entertaining facts in some branches of natural history, and a number of interesting events in the history of nations, are here related in a plain, easy, and natural style.” [I myself would describe Mr. Helme’s style as stiff and unimaginative, but whatever]. The important thing is... "The morality is pure, and no dangerous principles are inculcated, to give a wrong bent to the minds of unwary youth. There is nothing in this book to hurt or offend (no small comparative merit) but much to instruct and amuse.”
The character of Mr. Melville appears to be a self-portrait. “Mr. Melville had, from an early period in life, lived in what is called the great world; for his family being respectable, and his fortune affluent, he was, of course, deemed sufficiently qualified to associate with those, whose only merit consisted in hereditary acquirements. In his journey through life, he had also attracted the notice of that judicious few, who wisely discriminate between mere superficials, and the more rare possession of good sense, humanity, and rectitude.” Jane Austen was never so open in taking a jab at the class system of England as is Mr. Helme when he describes how he fell out of genteel society. Just as occurred to the Helmes in real life, a disastrous loan to a friend sunk Mr. Melville into poverty. “By such [a false friend] Mr. Melville was undone, and left at the age of forty, with barely two hundred a pounds a year, in lieu of as many thousands.”
William Helme has been described as a schoolmaster, but I cannot find any advertisements for his school or seminary in the British Newspaper archive. I imagine therefore that he, like Mr. Melville, quietly took on students through personal referrals.
No copies appear to have survived of William Helme's 1794 novel, Henry Stukely, or the Effects of Dissipation, but the Corvey Collection in Germany has a copy of his 1801 novel, Mysterious Friendship. His 1788 novel Adventures of a Watch contains some social commentary and a bigoted (intended to be comic) portrayal of a Jewish moneylender. Scholars of "it narrative" novels (stories narrated by an object or animal such as a coin or a pony) explain that this book is written in imitation of Laurence Sterne.
Elizabeth Helme achieved greater success in the publishing world than her husband. She authored several best-sellers, including Louisa, or, the Cottage on the Moor, and The Farmer of Inglewood Forest. I think it’s very likely Jane Austen read Helme’s novels because of allusions she made to them in her own writing. She was also a translator and author of children's books.
Despite her best-seller status (The Farmer was republished for at least fifty years), the Helmes were desperately poor in their later years. We know about their travails because of their applications to the Royal Literary Fund for indigent authors. Both Elizabeth and William received small occasional payouts (as in, five or ten pounds) from the fund when invalidism put an end to their teaching and writing careers.
Noël-Antoine Pluche (1688 –1761) may have been the originator of changing “boring and disagreeable” dissertation into dialogue between a teacher and children. “Some will furnish our conversation with their knowledge and others will animate the discussion with their curiosity.” (Pluche quoted in Immel, Andrea, and Witmore, Michael. Childhood and Children's Books in Early Modern Europe, 1550-1800. United Kingdom, Taylor & Francis, 2013.)
P. Norbury & Son published at least three of Elizabeth Helme’s novels, including the posthumously-published Modern Times which was completed by her husband. Fun fact: the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley was an enthusiast for gothic novels as a teenager. He “would haunt the circulating library of Mr. P. Norbury in Brentford High Street” who carried “the same kind of extravagant fiction to which Shelley was addicted.” (from Shelley in England, New Facts and Letters from the Shelley-Whitton Papers, by Roger Ingpen, 1917.)
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