The Modern Athens 25

The Modern Athens 25

With regard to the literature of the Athens, it is worthy of remark

that the time of George the Third corresponded with that of Anne in

England; and that when the style of writing south of the Tweed was

changing to another, if not to a better model, the wits of the Athens

were imitating the Tatlers and Spectators.

 

The era of the French revolution was a remarkable one in the

literature, if not particularly of the Athens, at least of the rest of

Scotland; and the reading of the pamphlets of that time, which probably

the people would have been as well without, led to the establishment of

subscription libraries throughout the country, and made those readers,

and in some measure critics, in general literature, whose whole course

of study had previously been theological. But until very recently, the

periodical literature of the Athens was hardly deserving the name. The

Athenian newspapers were always dull and spiritless, and while the

politics of the Athens remain what they are, there is no chance that

they shall become better. In the provincial parts of Scotland, I met

with several journals written with great taste, spirit, and liberality;

but in the Athens, there is only one worth naming,--the “Scotsman;” and

that, whether through fear of the party or from what other cause, I

know not, I found not to be such as I would have expected. I found it a

sensible production, certainly, and as much superior to the others as

can well be imagined; but it is by no means what would be expected from

people pretending to so much intellect, and freedom, as the party by

whom it was supported.

 

If the “Scotsman” had appeared in London, it would not have produced

almost any sensation. It would have been allowed to take its place

far down in the list of weekly journals; but in the Athens, I was

told that it excited no small degree of alarm among the official men.

Just about that time, a blow had been given to that bank influence by

which they had been in the habit of crushing every opponent to their

measures, whom they could not get indicted and brought to trial; and

this, together with the strong and general feeling against them that

was at that time spread over the country, and the appearance of a free

journal, even at the very seat of their power, which dared not merely

to dispute their principles, but even to expose their practice, was

enough to alarm those who were not accustomed to any opposition, and

whose hands were understood to be not over and above clean. When the

early numbers of the “Scotsman” were distributed over the city, spies

were appointed to dog the messengers, and take a note of those at whose

houses copies were delivered; and it was generally believed that the

lists were transcribed for the edification both of the crown lawyers

and of the Athenian magistrates.

 

But the greatest and most extraordinary step that ever was taken in

the periodical literature of the Athens, or indeed of any country, was

the appearance of the Edinburgh Review,--a work, the boldness, spirit,

and originality of which were at the time altogether unprecedented,

and which never yet have been, and probably never will be, equalled.

The Edinburgh Review was happy both in the time and the manner of its

appearance. Periodical literature had been quite stagnant in the Athens

from the time of the Loungers and Mirrors; and they had become too

trifling for the awakened and agitated spirit of the age. In London

there were some reviews, but the best of them were in the hands of

religious sectaries, who puzzled themselves and plagued their readers

with questions which nobody could solve, and nobody would have taken

the trouble to solve, even if they could. The whole of them were either

tame or timid; and folks continued to buy them rather with a view of

keeping their sets unbroken till chance should introduce amendment,

than from any desire to read them. The war which had just terminated

had been expensive, and excepting those for whom offices had been

obtained, there was nobody with whom it had ever been popular; and

the war that was beginning, or begun, had not much to recommend it.

There was, indeed, much to say against the conduct of the Continental

courts, and even against that of the English administration; people

were well prepared and anxious to hear it; and there was no publication

of the day of sufficient interest in any way to divide or divert the

attention. The Review came like thunder; and to give it the more

effect, it came like thunder when the air is still, and when men are

listening.

 

Great, however, as was the talent displayed in the Review, and wide and

wonderful as was the sensation which it produced upon its very first

appearance, the Athens had little merit in it, except the mere name.

The publisher, though he subsequently rose as high in that trade as

any English publisher of the time, was then but a young man, not much

known, and not much recognised or esteemed by the Athenians; the editor

was also a young man, recently returned from England; and the most

spirited contributors to the very early numbers, had by no means had

their minds formed upon the Athenian model. The effect which the Review

produced was also not perhaps so great in the Athens as in London;

and it was only when it had taken its place in the literary world,

and the acknowledgment of it was an honour, that the Athenians began

to identify it with themselves, and at no time was the identification

general,--nor could the whole talent of the Athens, even when in its

best days, have supported the Review for a single year.

 

Besides, though the real ability of the Edinburgh Review was great,

the vast popularity which it so speedily obtained, and the brilliant

course which it ran, were unquestionably more owing to the novelty of

its plan, and the fact of its advocating those political principles

which were agreeable to the majority of people at the time, than to its

merits.

 

One cause of the rise of the Edinburgh Review, and perhaps also one

cause of its comparative fall, is the uniformity with which it has

all along followed the Whig party. Before that party got into office,

and when, in consequence of their boldness and lofty pretensions as

oppositionists, the opinions of the Edinburgh Review,--at least, its

political opinions,--which were all along the ones upon which the

greater part of its celebrity rested,--were by many received as the

infallible oracles of truth; and when the trial which the country had

had of that party shook them a little in public estimation, though

the Review received a shock along with them, it still retained a

considerable portion of its influence. But, as the opinions of men

became a little more liberal, and the frequency of disappointment

made them more and more suspicious of all parties, some Jesuitical

articles in the Review, on the subjects of representation and reform,

shook the confidence of the people in it; while, much about the same

time, or, at least, not long afterwards, the failure of its prophecies

with regard to the ultimate success of Buonaparte, laid it open to

the attacks of the Tories. For the first of these suspicions, there

appeared to be but too much foundation; and though the latter was more

Jesuitical than just, still it was the interest of the parties to press

it to extremity. When the Edinburgh Review predicted the ultimate

triumph of Napoleon, it did not, of course, anticipate, that he would,

with the example of Charles XII. before him, undertake so hazardous

an enterprise as a winter campaign into the interior of Russia; but

the Review did not enter a caveat against such an excursion; and,

therefore, it was held as prophesying in the face of this as well as of

all the other chances.

 

I have noticed those circumstances with a view of showing, not only

that the absolute literary merits of the Edinburgh Review were not the

sole cause of its popularity, but that even though they had, the merit

does not in whole, or even in the greater part, belong to the Athens.

The Athens never could, of her own will, ability, and patronage,

support a single literary man; and it could not well be expected that

she could, for any length of time, support a literary work.

 

The first of these positions may be established by a reference to the

history of the whole literary men of the Athens, as well as to the

state which they are in at the present time; and the second, besides

being a necessary and legitimate deduction from the first, may be

confirmed by an appeal to the facts.

 

Allan Ramsay was the first Athenian writer, after the hiatus of which

I have spoken; and Allan addressed himself as much to the taste

and foibles of the Athens as it was possible for one of so limited

education and limited powers to do. Allan made a comfortable living;

but he did not make that as a poet; he did it, first, as a hairdresser,

and then as a bookseller, and as the keeper of a circulating library,

which, being the first of the kind in the Athens, proved a most

fortunate speculation. The works of Colin Maclaurin, and some of the

other illustrious men, of which the Athens never was worthy, were put

into circulation as much in the way of charity to their families,

as from any love for those sciences and arts of which they were the

ornaments.

 

Robert Ferguson was pre-eminently the poet of the Athens. Born within

her walls, he devoted his muse to the chanting of her praises; and how

did she reward her tuneful son? Why, she blamed him because he wrote

verses rather than law papers; she liked his songs, and she sung them;

but she would give him no reward for his labour; and poor Ferguson,

neglected, heart-broken, and starved, ended his days in a mad-house;

and his ungrateful step-dame, the Athens,--that city, which, if one

would be silly enough to believe her, is the model, the encourager,

and the rewarder, of all taste, would not do for him, what England,

even in her worst and most worthless times, did for the poets whom

she starved,--she would not give him a monument,--no, not so much as

an unhewn stone, to let it be known that one grave in the Canon-gate

church-yard contained holier dust than that of a baron bailie.

 

Even when the immortal Burns came, to shame a selfish,

undiscriminating, and ungrateful land, the Athens made not the

slightest attempt to wash out the foul stain which she had given

herself in the case of Ferguson. Burns put her in mind of that stain,

not only by the erection of the little tomb-stone over his unfortunate

brother; but in a monument more durable,--a poem, which, had there

been any soul within the cold ribs of the Athens, would have harrowed

it with remorse, that might have been a stimulus to repentance. But

the Athens took it all with that sang-froid which is the concomitant

and the characteristic of reckless and self-sufficient dulness; and

no where in the whole history of literature, is there an instance of

neglect more mean, and ingratitude more disgraceful, than that of the

Athens, for Robert Burns. She lured him, by fair promises, within her

siren and seductive walls. Day after day, and week after week, she

dipt him deeper in that dissipation, of which she knows better how to

set the example than any city between Kent and Caithness. She showed

him about, from tavern to tavern, from one evening party to another,

and through every one of her hundred scenes and sinks of vice; and

this precious work she continued, till the prospects which he had left

behind were blasted, and his own powers and habits spoiled; and the