The Political History of England – Vol XI

The best work of Maria Edgeworth and Jane Austen appeared in the early part of the nineteenth century. Maria Edgeworth's novel, Castle Rackrent, was published in 1800, and rapidly followed by other tales descriptive of Irish life; four of Jane Austen's novels, Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, and Emma, were published between 1811 and 1816, while Northanger Abbey and Persuasion appeared after her death in 1817. All her work displays a power of minute analysis of character shared by few, if any, of our other novelists. Both authors deserve gratitude not only for having inspired Scott with a new idea of novel-writing, but for having exercised a purifying influence on the moral tone of English romance.

The most typical feature of English literature in the earlier years of the nineteenth century was the extraordinary development of the periodical and newspaper press. The eighteenth century was the golden age of pamphlets. When the "governing classes" represented but a fraction of the population, mostly concentrated in London, the practical effect of such political appeals as those issued by Swift or Burke was incredibly great, and not to be measured by their limited circulation. The rise of journalism as a power in politics may be roughly dated from the notoriety of Wilkes' North Briton, and of the letters of "Junius" in the Public Advertiser. Thenceforward, newspapers, at first mere chronicles of passing events, inevitably grew to be organs of political opinion, and had now almost superseded pamphlets, as addressed to a far larger circle of readers. Notwithstanding the heavy stamp duties, as well as duties on paper and advertisements, six daily journals were published in London, of which the Times was already the greatest. Cobbett's Weekly Political Register, commenced in 1802, was diffusing new ideas among the middle classes, but it was not yet committed to radicalism, and did not win its way into cottages until its price was greatly reduced in 1816. After Cobbett's death in 1835, it ceased to appear. Still the ice was broken, and, as the educated public recovered from the panic caused by the French revolution, the newspaper press became a potent and independent rival of parliament and the platform.

EDINBURGH AND QUARTERLY REVIEWS.

But the influence of the Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviews was perhaps even greater among readers of the highest intelligence. The first of these was founded in 1802 by Jeffrey, Brougham, Horner, and Sydney Smith, but was supported at first by Scott and other able contributors. So remarkable a body of writers must have commanded attention in any age, but at a time when the only periodicals were annuals and miscellanies, the literary vigour and range of knowledge displayed by the new review carried all before it. For several years it had an unique success, but, as it identified itself more and more with the whig party, Canning, with the aid of Scott, determined to challenge its supremacy by establishing a new review to be called the Quarterly. Scott was finally estranged from the Edinburgh by an article against the war of independence in Spain, and the first number of the Quarterly appeared in February, 1809, with three articles by him. It was published by John Murray, and edited by Gifford, on much the same lines as the Edinburgh, but with a strong tory bias, and with somewhat less of literary brilliancy. Blackwood's Magazine followed a few years later, and the almost classical dualism of the Quarterly and Edinburgh has long since been invaded by a multitude of younger serials.

After the loss of its early monopoly of talent, the Edinburgh Review still retained Jeffrey and Sydney Smith, and it was abundantly compensated for the loss of Scott by the acquisition in 1825 of the fluent pen of Macaulay. Born in 1800, the son of Zachary Macaulay, who like many other philanthropists was on the tory side, he was early converted to the whig party. He was well fitted to be a popular writer. His thought, never deep, is always clear and vivid. None knew better how to seize a dramatic incident or a picturesque simile, or to strike the weak points in his adversary's armour. It has been said of him that he always chose to storm a position by a cavalry charge, certainly the most imposing if not the most effective method. Many of his contributions to the Edinburgh Review were afterwards republished as Essays, and already in those earlier essays which appeared before 1837, we can see him assuming the rôle of the historical champion of the whigs. Widely read and with a marvellous memory, he was generally accurate in his facts, but his criticism of Gladstone applies with even greater force to himself: "There is no want of light, but a great want of what Bacon would have called dry light. Whatever Mr. Gladstone sees is refracted and distorted by a false medium of passions and prejudices." The critic is sunk in the advocate, and even a good cause is spoiled by a too obvious reluctance to admit anything that comes from the other side. Perhaps his happiest, though far from his greatest, work is to be found in the stirring ballads of Ivry and the Armada, the precursors of the Lays of Ancient Rome. Deservedly popular and full of patriotic fire, the class of literature to which they belong renders questions of fairness or unfairness beside the point.

Another contributor to the Edinburgh Review, also famous as a historian, was Thomas Carlyle. He was born in 1795 at Ecclefechan in Dumfriesshire, and wrote for Brewster's Encyclopædia and the London Magazine as well as the Edinburgh. In 1826 he married Jane Welsh, and in 1828 he retired from journalism to live humbly on her means. It was now that he began to produce his best work. Sartor Resartus appeared in 1833-34, and the History of the French Revolution in 1837. Even in the latter of these works he is as much a preacher as a historian. Perhaps no other writer of the age exercised a greater direct influence, and in his own country, which seems specially amenable to the preacher's powers, his message has been as effective in favour of broader views as the disruption of the Church of Scotland in 1843 was in favour of the old orthodoxy. His teaching has its roots in a German soil, but it bears the mark of his own strong personality. His style, with a wilful ruggedness, displays the German taste for the humour of an incongruous homeliness, where the subject seems to call for a more dignified treatment. Perhaps this obvious falseness of expression only relieves the weight of his stern earnestness of purpose and makes us the more ready to join in his constant denunciation of everything hollow and pretentious.

LAMB.

Two new magazines appeared in or about 1817, Blackwood's and the London. Brilliant as the leading contributors to the former were, none of them perhaps can claim a place in the front rank of English literature. Of the contributors to the London Lamb is doubtless entitled to the first place. Born in 1775, he was employed as a clerk in the East India House from 1792 to 1825. He was a schoolfellow of Coleridge and contributed to his earlier volume of poems It is, however, to the Essays of Elia that he owes his fame. These appeared in the London Magazine and were published in a collected form after his death in 1834. Few authors that have been so much admired have exercised so little influence. The reason for this is not far to seek. His style defies imitation, and he would have been the last man to endeavour to win disciples to his opinions. Another essayist who belongs to the same group of writers as Coleridge and Lamb is Thomas de Quincey. He wrote both for Blackwood's and for the London Magazine, in the latter of which appeared in 1821 his best known work, the Confessions of an English Opium Eater. He excelled in what was the dominant characteristic of English prose of this period, in imagery, a quality which is conspicuous in the light fancy of Coleridge's most famous poems, and which gives life to an author so uniformly in dead earnest as Macaulay. Viewed historically, this taste for imagery is the English side of the romantic movement, which in Germany reacted against the conventional, not only in works of the imagination, but in the heavier form of new philosophical systems. But these systems, in spite of Coleridge, never became native in England. The growth of the scientific spirit has made such thought and such language seem unreal in serious literature, and prevents a later generation from imitating, though not from admiring, the brilliance of the early essayists.

Hazlitt's genius was of a heavier type. As an essayist his work breathes the spirit of an earlier age; but as a literary critic he is a leader, and displays an inwardness in his appreciation that makes him in a sense the model of the new age in which criticism has so largely supplanted creation. It may be doubted, however, whether the abnormal growth of criticism, as a distinct branch of English letters, has been a benefit on the whole to our literature. Certainly it has tended to substitute the elaborate study of other men's thoughts for original production, and, after all, the greatest critics have been those who, being more than critics, have shown themselves capable of constructive efforts.

Two statesmen-novelists, Bulwer and Disraeli, are among the most interesting literary characters of the end of this period. The former of these, like his French contemporary Victor Hugo, had a remarkable gift for expressing each successive phase of popular taste. He resembled Disraeli in acquiring a pre-eminent position in letters in early youth, which was followed by political success at a later age. Though neither rose to cabinet rank before a time of life which must with literary men rank as "middle age," Bulwer had, in the midst of an active parliamentary career, been an active novelist, in fact the most popular novelist of his day. Disraeli, on the other hand, only entered parliament after the close of the period dealt with in this volume, and it is to this period, while he was still unknown to politics, that the greater part of his literary work belongs. One other resemblance between these writers is perhaps not less interesting to the historian than to the critic. Both made use of literature to establish for themselves a reputation as "men of the world," an ambition which Bulwer's social position might easily justify, and without which it would be impossible to understand the career of Disraeli. Born in 1803 and 1804 respectively, both made their mark with their first novels in 1827, Bulwer with Falkland, Disraeli with a work in which his own career has been supposed to be foreshadowed —Vivian Grey. One other great novelist had appeared before the close of the reign of William IV. In 1836 Charles Dickens produced Sketches by Boz and began the Pickwick Papers, but he belongs properly to the next reign.

Among the historians of this period the first place undoubtedly belongs to Henry Hallam. Born in 1788, he produced his View of the State of Europe during the Middle Ages in 1818, and his Constitutional History of England in 1827, while his Introduction to the Literature of Europe began to appear in 1837. Like Macaulay he represents the whig attitude towards politics, but does so less consciously and less emphatically than his younger contemporary. There is a sense in which no constitutional historian has adopted so strictly legal an attitude. It is not merely that his interest centres on the legal side of the constitution, but, lawyer-like, he judges every constitutional issue of the past in the light of the legal system which the law of his own day presupposes for the date in question. No one can deny the validity of this principle in a court of justice, but no one gifted either with historical imagination or with historical sympathy could wish to introduce it into a historical work. Yet the very narrowness of his outlook made it easier for him to adopt the impartiality of a judge; his criterion of justice is too definite to allow him to indulge in special pleading or to twist facts to suit his theories; and the student still turns to Hallam with a sense of security which he does not feel in reading Macaulay or Carlyle.

FINE ART.

The fine arts cannot be said to have flourished in England during the period of the great war, and architecture was certainly at a low ebb, but several eminent names belong to this period. Sir Thomas Lawrence was by far the foremost English portrait painter, and fitly represents the elegance of the regency, while Raeburn enjoyed an equal reputation in Scotland. Turner, however, was painting in his earlier manner and showing originality even in his imitations of old masters. Constable, too, was producing some of those quiet English landscapes which, though little appreciated at the time, have since made him famous. Two other English landscape painters, Callcott and the elder Crome, were also in their prime, and Wilkie executed several of his best known masterpieces at this time. David Cox and Prout did not earn celebrity till a little later. The Water-Colour Society was founded in 1804. Soon afterwards Flaxman was in the zenith of his fame, being elected professor of sculpture by the Royal Academy in 1810, and Chantrey was beginning to desert portrait painting for statuary.

Science, especially in its practical applications, made greater strides than art in the early years of the nineteenth century. It was now that Jenner's memorable discovery of vaccination, dating from 1796, was generally adopted by the medical profession. In 1802 his claim to priority was recognised by a parliamentary committee, with the result that £10,000 were then voted to him, and a further grant of £20,000 was made in 1807, when vaccination was established at the Small-pox Hospital. In 1814, George Stephenson, after many preliminary experiments, made a successful trial of his first locomotive engine. In 1812, Bell's steamboat, the Comet made its first voyage on the Clyde, and the development of steam navigation proceeded more rapidly than that of steam locomotion by land. Sir Humphry Davy began his researches in 1800, and took part in that year, with Count Rumford and Sir Joseph Banks, in founding the Royal Institution. His invention of the safety lamp was not matured until 1815.

But if the principal contributions of England to physical science in the early years of the century were mainly in the direction of practical application, her contributions to pure theory under the regency and in the reign of William IV. were no less distinguished. Sir John Herschel, following in the footsteps of his father, began in 1824 his observations on double stars and his researches upon the parallax of fixed stars, while Sir George Airy published in 1826 his mathematical treatises on lunar and planetary theory. In Michael Faraday England possessed at once an eminent chemist and the greatest electrician of the age. The discovery of benzine and the liquefaction of numerous gases were followed by an investigation of electric currents, and in 1831 by the crowning discovery of induction. Not less valuable perhaps than these discoveries of his own were the fertile suggestions which he left to others. William Smith, sometimes called the father of modern English geology, vigorously followed up the work of James Hutton by publishing in 1815 his great map of English strata as identified by fossils. Charles Lyell's Principles of Geology marks a great advance in geological science. In this book, which appeared in 1833, the author advanced the view, now universally accepted, that the great geological changes of the past are not to be explained as catastrophes, followed by successive creations, but as the product of the continuous play of forces still at work. This theory contained all that was vital in the doctrine of evolution; but it was only at a later date, when the doctrine had become the property of zoologists as well as geologists and had been popularised by Darwin, that it came to exercise an influence over non-scientific thought.

UNIVERSITY REFORM.

A review of the literary and scientific progress of this period would be incomplete without some notice of progress in higher education. The universities of Oxford and Cambridge with their numerous colleges had in the eighteenth century lapsed into that lethargic condition which seemed to be the common fate of all corporations. They had to a certain extent ceased to be seats of learning. At Oxford the limitations imposed upon colleges by statute or custom in elections to fellowships and scholarships ensured the mediocrity of the teachers and gave the preference to mediocrities among the students. Where emoluments were not so restricted they were generally awarded by interest rather than by merit; and it was even the case that a scholarship at Winchester, carrying with it the right to a fellowship at New College, was often promised to an infant only a few days old. The Oxford examination system had not been reformed since the time of Laud, and the degree examinations had degenerated into mere formalities until the university in 1800 adopted a new examination statute, mainly under the influence of Dr. Eveleigh, provost of Oriel. The new statute, which came into operation in 1802, granted honours to the better students of each year. The number of candidates to whom honours were granted, at first very small, rapidly increased till in 1837 about 130 received honours in a single year. The attention which the examination system received from the hebdomadal board, so often accused of sluggishness, is proved by the frequent changes in the regulations, which among other things differentiated between honours in "Literæ Humaniores" and in mathematics in 1807, and separated the honours and pass examinations in 1830. The same desire to encourage meritorious students showed itself in the institution of competitive examinations for fellowships, in which Oriel led the way. It was followed in 1817 by Balliol, which in 1827 threw open its scholarships as well. It was not, however, till the reign of Queen Victoria that the college statutes as a whole were so modified as to make open competition possible in more than a very few instances.

Cambridge suffered less than Oxford from restrictions as to the choice of fellows. In fact the majority of the fellowships, more especially of those which carried with them a vote in the government of the colleges, were, so far as the statutes went, open to all comers. Though the course of study was still nominally regulated by statutes dating from the Tudor period, which it would often have been ludicrous to enforce, an effective stimulus was given to mathematical studies by the mathematical tripos, which had existed from the middle of the eighteenth century, and to which in 1824 a classical tripos was added. The ground covered by these honour examinations was certainly narrower than that which lay within the scope of the corresponding examinations at Oxford, but at both places the studies of most undergraduates were still directed more by the judgment of their tutors than by the regulations of the university.

These two universities were, however, subject to two limitations, which prevented them from providing a higher education for all aspiring students. The expense of living at Oxford and Cambridge, and the close connexion of both universities with the Church of England, rendered them difficult of access to many. These limitations were emphasised by the fact that Scotland possessed five universities which were the opposite of the English in both respects, and not a few English students could always be found at the Scottish seats of learning. The reform ministry made a serious effort to remove or alleviate the grievances of dissenters. Among other reforms mooted was the abolition of theological tests for matriculation and graduation. In 1834 a bill, which proposed to effect this change, but which left intact such tests as existed for fellowships and professorships, passed its second reading in the commons by a majority of 321 against 174, and its third reading by 164 against 75. It was, however, thrown out on the second reading in the lords by 187 votes against 85. Though in this particular case the demands of the dissenters were moderate, they were themselves opposed to other measures introduced for their benefit, and the question of tests at Oxford and Cambridge was not unnaturally allowed to rest for another twenty years.

UNIVERSITY OF LONDON.

It was only in the reign of George IV. that anything was done to provide a university education for those who were unable to proceed to the ancient seats of learning. But the movement, once started, progressed rapidly. The oldest of the university colleges, as they are now called, is St. David's College, Lampeter, which was founded in 1822, mainly through the exertions of Dr. Thomas Burgess, Bishop of St. David's, who was supported by many others among the Welsh clergy. The college was opened in 1827, but at first it had no power of conferring degrees, and contented itself with the education of candidates for holy orders. A more important movement was initiated in 1825. In a public letter written by the poet Campbell to Brougham, the project of founding a university of London, which should be free from denominational restrictions, was advocated. The scheme was warmly embraced by many whose names are found associated with other movements of the times. Among them were Hume, Grote, Zachary Macaulay, Dudley, and Russell. A large proportion of the promoters of the new university had been educated at Scottish universities, and had therefore a clear idea of the type of university which they might establish, and the movement, although started primarily in the interests of dissenters, received the support of many who still valued the connexion of the universities with the Church. The "London University," as it was called, was opened in 1828, when classes were formed in arts, law, and medicine, but not in divinity. It was technically a joint-stock company, and the attempt of the shareholders to obtain a charter of incorporation was successfully resisted by the universities of Oxford and Cambridge.

Meanwhile some of the original supporters of the movement, regarding the non-religious character of the new university with suspicion, had decided to transfer their support to a new college, where the doctrine and worship of the Church of England should be recognised. The Duke of Wellington took a lively interest in this movement, and King George IV.'s patronage gave the new institution the name of "King's College". There seemed every reason to expect that the foundation would be on a munificent scale, when Wellington's acceptance of catholic emancipation offended many of the subscribers so deeply that they immediately withdrew from the undertaking, and the college was in consequence left almost entirely without endowment. State recognition, however, was given it from the first. It was incorporated in 1829, and opened in 1831. In 1835 the demand of "London University" for a charter received the support of the house of commons, and Lord Melbourne's government decided to propose a compromise, by which the so-called "London University" was to be converted into University College, and an examining body was to be created under the title of the University of London, while the work of teaching was to be performed by University College, King's College, and other colleges, which might from time to time be named by the crown. These terms were accepted by the existing "university," and charters were given to the new university and to University College, London, in 1836. It was thus left open to students or their parents to select either a denominational or an undenominational college, according to their preference.

Meanwhile another university had been founded in the north of England. The dean and chapter of Durham had determined to set aside a part of their emoluments for the foundation of a university, and the bishop had undertaken to assist them by attaching prebendal stalls in the cathedral to some of the professorships. An act of parliament was obtained in 1832, authorising the establishment of the new university, which was opened in October, 1833, and was incorporated by a royal charter on June 1, 1837. As an ecclesiastical foundation, the university of Durham was of course in the closest connexion with the established Church.