Society is indeed, as it were, reversed in the Athens; the men of the law give their evenings to Bacchus; those who are called philosophers, give theirs to butterflies; the ladies associate for the purposes of gossipping; and the gentlemen, with praise-worthy gallantry, assist the ladies; while the artizans pursue literature, and study philosophy. Thus, although there be more both of the one and the other in the Athens, than one would at first sight suppose, the supposition is excusable because they are not to be found where one would first and most naturally seek for them.
But if these habits make the labouring classes in the Athens more intelligent and delightful as a people than the same classes are in England, they render them as much more dangerous as a mob. It is true, that any demagogue cannot lead them to any mischief for any cause that he pleases, as is but too often the case with a less informed and reflective population. But if they are not to be collected or set on by every casual breath, it is not every casual breath that will make them disperse, or make them desist from their purpose. They have repeatedly—indeed upon every occasion where they have been aroused and brought together, evinced an union and organization which, with arms and perseverance, would have made them formidable to a large military force; and they have kept their plans so secret, and executed their purposes with so much promptitude and skill, that the whole of the legal and local authorities, in the joint exercise of their wisdom and their fears, have not been enabled to penetrate the one or prevent the other. “The Porteus” mob is universally known; and a gentleman who was an eye-witness gave me such an account of a minor one, both in its object and in its mischief, that occurred upon the result of the late Queen Caroline’s trial, as convinced me that their skill and their spirit have not yet abated.
The populace of the Athens, as well as of most other places, resolved upon having a general illumination, when the result of that trial was made known. I do not say this was right, neither do I say that it was wrong; but it was the will and the wish of the people, and they did it. The official part of the Athenians were of course against the measure, on political grounds; and a very large proportion of the superior classes disliked it, either because they had doubts of its propriety, or because they disliked the expense and trouble. Disturbances were apprehended, and the authorities took what they were pleased to call “vigorous measures:” they gave plenary power to Archy Campbell,—armed deacon Knox with a great bludgeon,—supported the constabulary with staves,—hung bayonets and cartouch-boxes across the shoulders of the writers clerks,—stuck swords behind the sheriff and advocates-depute,—sent for the Lothian farmers and their cart-horses,—collected the military detachments,—shotted the guns of the Castle, and lighted the linstocks,—dined, and put in the internal armour of divers bottles of wine a-stomach,—and then bolting as many doors upon themselves as ever they could, sat down to wonder and wait for the issue. After preparations so extensive in their nature, and so profound in their organization, one would naturally have supposed that not so much as a rebellious candle would have been lighted, or an Athenian lamp broken. But this was by no means the case.
My informant, who had just arrived from Glasgow, where a similar scene had been performed on the preceding evening, with much credit to the military, some little to the magistrates, and no positive disgrace to the people, was induced, by the unusual radiance that he observed in the street, to walk out and see what was the matter, or rather how the matter was. He passed along Princes Street, which exhibited nearly the same number of candles, and the same taste in transparent paintings that are usual upon other grease-burning and gauze-daubing occasions; but the street itself was unusually quiet, and free of people. As he stood gazing at a window opposite the earthen mound, in the decoration of which some painter had been peculiarly happy in absurdity, a stranger took him by the arm, and requested him to go to the other side of the street, as where he stood he was by no means safe. He hesitated, alleging that he heard nothing. “But it is coming,” said the stranger, “and the more silent it is the less safe.” They crossed the street together; and my informant looking towards the other end of the mound, observed that the lamps were extinguished one by one, and though not a tongue was heard, there was a heavy and hurried tread as of a dense crowd rapidly approaching. It came, filling the whole breadth, and about half the length of the mound. In the front were borne two transparencies, rendered barely visible by dull blue lights behind. On each flank were treble lines of men, armed with stakes, which they had torn from a paling; and the whole square, of which they formed two sides, was as thick in its composition and as regular and rapid in its march as the Macedonian phalanx. This thick phalanx moved along some of the principal streets: when a voice in one key called out one set of numbers, a shower of missiles instantly demolished every pane in the windows; and when a voice in another key called out another set of numbers, not a stone was thrown. This mass of people passed along the streets, and performed its quantity of mischief with the silence and rapidity of a destroying angel; and when it had wreaked a double portion of violence upon the dwelling of the Lord Provost, it melted away nobody knew how, where, or by what agency. Meanwhile, the alarm had been given to the powers and protectors; but when they came to read the riot act, and scatter the spoilers, there remained none to hear, but shattered houses and frightened inmates, and nothing to scatter, except fragments of glass. Fortunately, the mischief was not very great; but the manner in which it was done was enough to show the superior tactics, and consequently superior danger of an Athenian mob.
It is not, however, the education of politicians, of professional men, or of the populace, which constitutes that peculiar course of discipline which deserves to be designated, as “the education of the Athens.” That education is a training of the manners more than of the mind,—an initiation into the practices of life, rather than the principles of any art, or of any science. Most species of education imply some sort of restraint; but the Athenian education is chiefly taken up with removing the restraints that have been imposed in other places, and by other systems; and the rapidity with which students make proficiency in it is without parallel in any of the ordinary schools or colleges. A mere boy shall come from the remotest glen or island of Scotland, as timid as a hare, as modest as a maiden, and as honest as a man of five feet in a mill-stone quarry; and yet, astonishing to tell! three little months, sometimes three little weeks, of Athenian tuition, shall make him a perfect adept in all the theory, and an expert proficient in all the practice of the Athenian mysteries. No where else, indeed, can young men be thus educated at so early an age; and it is the boast of the Athens, that she frees the youth of Scotland of more of their antiquated notions and narrow prejudices than they could get rid of even in London itself. The number of young men who resort annually to the Athens as students in the college, and under the private lecturers in the different departments of medical science—who, as I have said, are now in a great measure eclipsing and supplanting the college professors, together with the still greater number who throng to the offices of the men of law, form a separate and unguardianed and unguarded society of youths, greater in proportion to the whole population than is to be found in any other British city. They meet with those of but a year’s longer standing, and these meet those of but another year, and so on, till the total take in every lesson-abhorring student, and every quill-driving clerk, to the amount of some thousands,—all of them furnished with at least moderate means of supporting themselves, and without the slightest check or control as to how those means shall be expended. The studies of the law-clerks are of an exceedingly dry description, and those of the other students are not very different. The infant scribes are set loose at an early hour in the evening, and as the professors in the Athens are said to be far more strict in looking after their own fees than after the attendance of the students, the whole of this mass of young persons are left to govern themselves and each other for nearly the half of every day in the week, and almost the whole of Saturday and Sunday. Athenian apprentices to the law are seldom lodged in the families of their masters; and it is a rare thing indeed for an Athenian student to be boarded with his professor. Hence, both classes are allowed to help each other in the formation of their habits, without any control from the more experienced part of society. It is the interest of the lodging-house-keepers, with whom the greater part of them reside, that their juvenile frolics should not come to the ears of their relations; and therefore each is allowed to indulge himself as he pleases, and the only measure of indulgence is the purse.
While this mode of life holds out facilities for indiscretions which the greater activity and occupation of even a mercantile city prevent, the great numbers take off the shame of individual transactions, and give a fashion and eclât to what would no where else be tolerated. Youths of no great advance in life have their nightly drinking-bouts, and boys, in the first year of their studies or apprenticeships, have their occasional carousals in ale-houses suited to the state of their funds. As the greater number of young men in the Athens, setting aside the working classes, whose conduct is very different, are of this description, perhaps they stamp upon the whole place much of its character; and, especially in the several professions connected with the law, they in all probability stamp the greater part of it.
The results are just what might be expected. There is no place that I visited where both the manners and the morals of young persons are so free; and, with a greater partiality for the bottle, and a greater proneness to all its consequences, there is perhaps less moral feeling, and a less clear perception either of intellectual or of moral truth, among young men who have passed through the several stages of an Athenian education, than among those who have had their novitiate any where else. Too young for reflection, and too much exposed to temptation for study, their minds become as desultory as their manners are dissipated; and while yet they hardly know any thing, they are prompt in their decision of every thing; and having once found that it is easier, and gives more notoriety to decide without thinking, than to think without deciding, they become as dogmatical in speech as they are shallow in knowledge, and raw in experience.
The force of ardent and inexperienced passions, just set loose from paternal restraint, the force of every day’s example, the force of ridicule, and frequently also the force of direct compulsion, all conspire to drive every young man who goes to reside in the Athens into these courses, and to keep him in them as long as he continues to reside in the Athens; and be it for study or for business, the novitiate is in ordinary cases sufficiently long to stamp the character for life. Accordingly it has been remarked, that though young men who profited by a regular course of Athenian study, be often very showy and frequently very jovial as companions, they are not very pre-eminent for sagacity as counsellors, or trust-worthiness as friends. Coming from the provinces in all their greenness, without any principle, save that prudence which their parents tried to inculcate, and getting rid of that very speedily, they are left like blank-paper, upon which the Athens may inscribe her peculiar characters. There they grow up, and acquire the passions, and learn the vices of men, while they have the intellect only of boys.
Every part of the system tends to debauch their morals, and deaden their intellectual perceptions, and there are some parts of it that tend strongly to make them as impertinent as they are ill-informed. With many of them, and more especially with those connected with the law, public speaking, or rather public wrangling, such as they daily hear before their Lordships, is regarded as the foremost and best of all qualifications. Accordingly, they not only have little disputing societies, at which the most profound and grave questions are discussed and decided in the least grave and profound manner, but they also, not sometimes, but very frequently, carry the same practices into their carousing parties, whether in their own lodgings or at their respective ale-houses. Thus they learn to make speeches, which, like inflated bladders, are of a considerable size, and smooth withal on the surface, but have neither solidity nor weight. Of those who are thus educated, a considerable portion are scattered over the country, and perhaps in this way the Athens draws both upon the virtue and the intelligence of the age, in full for all that she gives in the way of other education. Perhaps, indeed, setting aside the political taints which have been noted as emanating from the Athens, it were just as well for Scotland, and not a bit worse for England, that Athenian education of all kinds were confined between the Loch of Duddingstone and the Water of Leith. Of those again who are thus educated, and who remain in the Athens, it may perhaps be said that they turn round and inflict upon those who come after, full retribution for what those who went before inflicted upon themselves; and that with all her boasted elegance and taste, there is perhaps no city in which vice is more generally or more obtrusively practised, than in this self-boasted model of taste and purity.
The effects of this system of education may be traced in the manners, and especially in the conversation, of the Athenians, even when they have, as one would suppose, risen above the standard and outlived the vices of those juvenile associations. The jokes which are quoted as being the indigenous crop of the Parliament-House habitually, and even of the bench occasionally, have almost uniformly a latitude in them, which would not be tolerated in similar places elsewhere; and perhaps one of the most offensive collections that could be raked together, would be a list of all the good things with which the Athenians embellish their conversations, as having been said and done by the men of whom they boast; but as such a collection would be relished no where except in the Athens, and with Athenian disciples, it may, with great propriety, be left as a chosen preserve, in which her own literati may poach, when otherwise their stores become exhausted, as must occasionally be the case even with them.