Although regular literary organs, and the critical columns of the press,
are both of comparatively recent origin, we find that almost from the
beginning our journalists aspired to be critics as well as newsmongers.
Under Charles II, Sir Roger L'Estrange issued his _Observator_ (1681),
which was a weekly review, not a chronicle; and John Dunton's _The
Athenian Mercury_ (1690), is best described as a sort of early "Notes
and Queries." Here, as elsewhere, Defoe developed this branch of
journalism, particularly in his _Review_ (1704), and in _Mist's Journal_
(1714). And, again, as in all other departments, his methods were not
materially improved upon until Leigh Hunt, and his brother John, started
_The Examiner_ in 1808, soon after the rise of the Reviews. Addison and
Steele, of course, had treated literary topics in _The Spectator_ or
_The Tatler_; but the serious discussion of contemporary writers began
with the Whig _Edinburgh_ of 1802 and the Tory _Quarterly_ of 1809.
By the end of George III's reign every daily paper had its column of
book-notices; while 1817 marks an epoch in the weekly press; when
William Jerdan started _The Observator_ (parent of our _Athenaeum_) in
order to furnish (for one shilling weekly) "a clear and instructive
picture of the moral and literary improvement of the time, and a
complete and authentic chronological literary record for reference."
Though probably there is no form of literature more widely practised,
and less organised, than the review, it would be safe to say that every
example stands somewhere between a critical essay and a publisher's
advertisement. We need not, however, consider here the many influences
which may corrupt newspaper criticism to-day, nor concern ourselves with
those legitimate "notices of books" which only aim at "telling the
story" or otherwise offering guidance for an "order from the library."
The question remains, on which we do not propose to dogmatise, whether
the ideal of a reviewer should be critical or explanatory: whether, in
other words, he should attempt final judgment or offer comment and
analysis from which we may each form our own opinion. Probably no hard
and fast line can be drawn between the review and the essay; yet a good
volume of criticism can seldom be gleaned from periodicals. For one
thing all journalism, whether consciously or unconsciously, must contain
an appeal to the moment. The reviewer is introducing new work to his
reader, the essayist, or critic proper, may nearly always assume some
familiarity with his subject. The one hazards prophecy; the other
discusses, and illumines, a judgment already formed, if not established.
It is obvious that such reviews as Macaulay's in the _Edinburgh_ were
often permanent contributions to critical history; while, on the other
hand, many ponderous effusions of the _Quarterly_ are only interesting
as a sign of the times.
The fame of a review, however, does not always depend on merit. The
scandalous attacks on the Cockney school, for example, were neither good
literature nor honest criticism. We still pause in wonder before the
streams of virulent personal abuse and unbridled licence in temper which
disgrace the early pages of volumes we now associate with sound and
dignified, if somewhat conventional, utterances on the art of Literature
as viewed from the table-land of authority. And, as inevitably the most
famous reviews are those which attend the birth of genius, we must
include more respectable errors of judgment, if we find also several
remarkable appreciations which prove singular insight.
Following the "early" reviews, whether distinguished for culpable
blindness, private hostility, or rare sympathy, we must depend for our
second main source of material upon that fortunate combination of
circumstances when one of the mighty has been invited to pass judgment
upon his peers. When Scott notices Jane Austen, Macaulay James Boswell,
Gladstone and John Stuart Mill Lord Tennyson, the article acquires a
double value from author and subject. Curiously enough, as it would seem
to us in these days of advertisement, many such treasures of criticism
were published anonymously; and accident has often aided research in the
discovery of their authorship. It is only too probable that more were
written than we have yet on record.
In reviewing, as elsewhere, the growth of professionalism has tended to
level the quality of work. The mass of thoroughly competent criticism
issued to-day has raised enormously the general tone of the press; but
genuine men of letters are seldom employed to welcome, or stifle, a
newcomer; though Meredith, and more frequently Swinburne, have on
occasion elected to pronounce judgment upon the passing generation; as
Mrs. Meynell or Mr. G.K. Chesterton have sometimes said the right thing
about their contemporaries. The days when postcard notices from
Gladstone secured a record in sales are over; and, from whatever
combination of causes, we hear no more of famous reviews.