University of Virginia Library

THOMAS DE QUINCEY AND THE EDINBURGH SATURDAY POST OF 1827

by David Groves

THE Edinburgh Saturday Post was an eight-page weekly newspaper that ran from 12 May 1827 to 3 May 1828. After that it continued as the Edinburgh Evening Post. The Post would be of little importance today except that one of its weekly writers was Thomas De Quincey, the author of Confessions of an English Opium-Eater and of several memoirs of his literary friends including Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Charles Lamb. Although De Quincey never mentions the Edinburgh Post in his other essays, there is no doubt he contributed many anonymous articles to it, from about the middle of 1827. His work for the paper was disregarded until 1966, when Stuart Tave reprinted twenty-three pieces from the 1827 Post (and sixteen from the 1828 Post) that are clearly De Quincey's.[1] The first thirty-five of those articles, together with fifty newly-attributed articles from the same Edinburgh Saturday Post, now constitute Volume Five (which I edited) in The Works of Thomas De Quincey (gen. ad. Grevel Lindop, 21 vols., London: Pickering and Chatto, 2000-2003; hereafter cited as Works). (The remaining four pieces in Dr. Tave's collection, from the same paper after it was renamed the Evening Post, are in Volume Six of the new Works.) The purpose of the present essay is to tell, for the first time in print, the detailed story of De Quincey's involvement with the 1827 Post, with a view to supporting the attributions in Volume Five. It is hoped that this new contextual information concerning De Quincey's unusual position (as both an Englishman and the only writer of recognized literary ability on the staff of a tiny Scottish newspaper) will lend strength to the eighty-five attributions in Volume Five, which are necessarily brief and necessarily rely mainly on the internal evidence of style and content.

De Quincey was forty-one when he started writing for the Post. He desperately needed money to support his wife and children in the English lake district. His only previous newspaper-work had been as the editor of the Westmorland Gazette in 1818-19. After that job ended, De Quincey wrote articles for the London Magazine, 1821-24, and for Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, beginning in 1826.[2] Despite the success of his Confessions of an

English Opium-Eater in 1821, De Quincey was not yet well-known as an author in Edinburgh. When Thomas Carlyle met "De Quincy" there in November 1827, he was appalled at the poverty which kept the Englishman tied to the Post:

No article in the Edinburgh Saturday Post ever carried the name of its author. Nor did the Saturday Post ever mention Thomas De Quincey byname, initials, or pseudonym "the Opium-Eater." As a result, critics until lately have underestimated his involvement. But in the last few years it has been shown that De Quincey was the paper's editor for two months in 1827, secondly that he furnished most of its leading-articles in that year,[4] and thirdly that he was still submitting essays to the Post well beyond 1827.[5] De Quincey's other Edinburgh publisher, William Blackwood, confided privately in October 1827 that De Quincey "has been it seems for a few weeks the Editor" of the Post. [6] Years later, another writer recalled working for "the Saturday Evening Post . . . during the administration of De Quincey."[7] It is also now believed that De Quincey had a contract that required him to supply articles to the paper on a weekly basis.[8]

One problem in investigating the Post is that many of its articles were revised by editors or typesetters, while other articles combined the efforts of more than one author. When one contributor reprinted some of his pieces as a separate booklet in 1828, he complained that their "substance" had first "appeared

in the . . . Post . . . with some additions and alterations." "It is now," he added, "printed from the original MS. as it was first written."[9] On the level of punctuation, capitalization, and length of sentences, it seems that some or all of the authors expected the paper's compositors to revise their submissions.[10] Volume Five in the new Works includes two long essays that are almost certainly collaborations between De Quincey and someone else, and De Quincey is not responsible for the complete text.[11] On controversial topics, the Post often combined remarks by two or more of its writers in a single article.[12]

Few journalists have ever been quite so unsuited to their paper as Thomas De Quincey was to the Post. The Post was designed for well-to-do Scottish conservatives, with businessmen, lawyers, and Presbyterian ministers making up much of its audience. Its appearance was lavish, with each large page laid out in four spacious columns, beautifully printed in clear dark ink. The title appeared in a graceful rolling scroll across the top of the first page, with Scotland's coat-of-arms in the center. Beneath the title, the subtitle stood in small block capitals, announcing the paper as "A GENERAL NEWSPAPER, LITERARY JOURNAL, AND RECORD OF SCOTTISH AFFAIRS." As a sign of its upper-class nature, the first thirteen issues sold for nine pence, at a time when almost all newspapers sold for seven pence.

The strongest commercial feature of the Post was its promise to bring "the latest London news" to Scotland on Saturday night. Previously, Edinburgh's Saturday papers were published early on Saturday morning, and their news from the south would be three days old by the time readers saw it. The Post, however, created a niche for itself through having a permanent correspondent based in London. Every Thursday afternoon the correspondent

would write his "private letter," containing news from Parliament and the stock exchange as well as the latest overseas news. He would also gather various newspapers from England, Ireland, and sometimes from Paris, Berlin, and beyond. At seven o'clock on Thursday evening, this London correspondent would place his letter and the newspapers in a packet addressed to the Saturday Post in Edinburgh. The packet would then be handed to the mail-coach, just before it left London for the north. Barring a problem with the horses, an accident, or a storm, the parcel would arrive at Edinburgh's main post-office on Princes' Street a little before six p.m. on Saturday. Someone from the Post would collect the parcel and rush back to the paper's office on West Register Street, two blocks away. At this point, the Saturday Post was due to be printed in little more than an hour. All its articles had been set in type, excepting a column or so on the front page, for the latest London and overseas news, and a column or two beginning on the fourth page, which was reserved for the leading-article. These innovative arrangements were a matter of some pride:

Subscribers to the new paper would receive Thursday's news from the south on Saturday night; because no printing was done in Scotland on Sunday, readers of other papers would have to wait until late on Monday for similar information. The benefits for speculators, politicians, journalists, and even devotees of fashion would have been obvious. Advertisers, too, would have seen that readers of the Post were people with money to spend. The importance of this master-stroke of timing is confirmed in a letter from the owner of the Post, informing a local printer that another firm had been chosen to print the paper: "The other Proprietors with myself viewed the distance of yr. Establishment from the Post office [i.e., the public mail depot]as the Great objection."[14]

Each copy of the Post was printed on a single, large sheet, subsequently folded into four leaves.[15] The inner forme, containing the second, third,

sixth, and seventh pages, was normally printed on Saturday morning, and the ink would be dry by six o'clock. Meanwhile the compositor prepared the type for the reverse side (the outer forme), which would comprise the remaining four pages. Between six o'clock and seven on Saturday night, the letter from London (sometimes supplemented by extracts from the newspapers) would be set in type for the front page, while someone (in many cases De Quincey) would use the other news from London to dash off the leading article for the fourth page. As soon as these final pieces were set in type and proofread, the outer forme was ready to be printed. The sheets were then presumably hung up to dry, folded into pages, and finally cut along two sides. Assuming all went well, copies were on the way to subscribers by half-past-seven.[16]

The paper's other selling-point was its overwhelmingly Scottish sympathies. Six weeks before the first issue appeared, the Post declared that its "chief materials" and chief interests would "relate to the past and passing History of Scotland—its Ecclesiastical concerns—its Literary and Scientific Transactions—its Statistics and Improvements," so that it would prove "an interesting record to Scotsmen in all parts of the world." In the book-review section, too, great emphasis was to be placed on Scottish literature:

Similarly, the first issue claimed that the paper's book-reviews would be a "chronicle in which to notice Scottish publications," with "a regular notice "of every book "which issues from the Scottish press, or is the production of a Scotsman." With "numberless . . . works of . . . genius" now "published in Scotland," the Scottish people could "boast of a literature peculiar to itself," the Post declared; "we have not merely a national literature, but a national book-trade, more extensive perhaps than exists in any other country of the same population."[18] The paper would not likely have stressed the Scottishness of its literary columns to such a degree if it had expected from the start to publish major reviews by the "English Opium-Eater."

Almost everyone involved with the Post, except De Quincey, was a Scot.[19]

The paper was founded, and primarily owned until August 1830, by a young Scottish shipowner and lawyer named David Blackie or Blaikie. Although other investors were involved,[20] Blackie was the paper's driving-force and apparently the only one of its investors who also had a role in management.[21] For the first four months, the paper was edited by a Scots ecclesiastical lawyer named Alexander Peterkin, assisted by the Reverend Thomas Nelson and the Reverend George Milligan.[22] All three were Scots by birth, upbringing, and education, and all were devoted members of the Church of Scotland. In writing for the Post, Peterkin, Nelson, and Milligan were (in the words of the paper itself) "manfully set[ting] themselves in opposition to the foolish principles of liberalism in all its branches and modifications—regarding it as a spurious and monstrous offspring of Jacobinism and Popery."[23] The "English Opium-Eater" would make a most unusual addition to this team of proud, pious Scots, when he joined it in the summer of 1827.

The writings of Peterkin, Nelson, and Milligan deserve a glance, if only to show how unlike De Quincey's they are. Their interests lay chiefly in religion and national pride. Editor Peterkin's style may be seen at its most argumentative in his edition of Robert Burns:

By an interesting coincidence, Peterkin's work on Burns happened to be read by De Quincey's friend Wordsworth, who dismissed Peterkin's literary pretensions in his Letter to a Friend of Robert Burns. [25] It is quite likely, therefore, that De Quincey knew of Peterkin through Wordsworth, long before he started writing for the Post. Two typical sentences from one of Peterkin's religious works will confirm that his prose is unlikely to be mistaken for De Quincey's:

Directness of approach and long sentences with many subordinate clauses are obvious features of Peterkin's style. Two words which appear regularly in Peterkin, but almost never in De Quincey, are "cotemporary" and "betwixt; "Peterkin also uniformly used "Scottish" and "Scots" (but never "Scotch"). De Quincey, by contrast, always preferred "contemporary" and "between," and usually (though with some exceptions) preferred "Scotch" to "Scottish" or "Scots."[27]

Peterkin's first main contributor was the Reverend Thomas Nelson or Neilson. Nelson's writings agree with De Quincey's in using "between" and "contemporary," but they differ in preferring "Scottish" to "Scotch." His work shows an earnest regard for respectability and convention, combined with little, if indeed any, interest in irony. The ending of his mammoth essay on "Religion" seems typical of the sobriety, directness, and authoritarianism of Nelson's prose:

The other regular in the early months of the Post was the Reverend Milligan. Like Peterkin and Nelson, George Milligan used "betwixt," but he sided with De Quincey over "contemporary" and "Scotch." His known writings are direct and factual, with little patience for irony, amusement, or

subtlety. The beginning of his Catechism of Greek Grammar seems typical in its ornate alliteration, Latin constructions, and laborious self-justification:

As one editor remarked privately, Milligan's style "would not have been at all impaired by a little . . . simplicity."[30] Milligan was "an ass," according to Blackwood's Magazine, because his writing—or "braying," as Blackwood'scalled it—combined "commonplace" thoughts with "insufferable arrogance."[31] Milligan brought notoriety to the Post when his series on the "State of Greek Literature in Scotland" argued that "throughout the extent of the National Church" there were barely "a dozen clergymen who can read the New Testament" in Greek. "This state of things," Milligan warned in the Post,

There seems little to differentiate the gargantuan sentences of Peterkin, Nelson, and Milligan. All three seemingly enjoyed wordiness for its own sake, but their complex syntax does not seem to reflect any corresponding complexity of thought. Ambiguity, depth of meaning, and conscious humour have little place. Perhaps De Quincey was recalling his co-workers at the Post when he later wrote humorously of the kind of writer who "regards a sentence in the light of a package." Into that "package," De Quincey says, such a writer

The Post also had two occasional contributors in 1827. One was the retired soldier John Malcolm, who submitted a "roll" of manuscripts, from which his "much-valued friend" Peterkin selected a tale or poem about once a month.[34] Malcolm was noted for blandness, and for what his admirers called "pure taste."[35] His known essays are emphatically Scottish, and always use "betwixt."[36] The second minor writer was the scholar William Hay, whose translations of classical poetry began in September 1827.[37] De Quincey, who knew him slightly, advised Hay to stop "throwing away his valuable time" by sending his "threadbare" essays to the Post. [38] Malcolm and Hay were the only contributors whose pieces were normally signed with their initials.

Finally, each issue of the Post contained miscellaneous items like scientific paragraphs, gardening hints, local reports, legal essays, and dramatic notices. Most of these may be set aside from the present study, as it is unlikely they were written by De Quincey. The scientific reports were usually by William MacGillivray,[39] while the legal ones were by Peterkin and other lawyers.[40] For accounts of local sermons, speeches, trials, executions, and similar events, the paper normally sent one of its office-clerks to the scene.[41]

The weekly column on "The Drama," however, poses many problems.

Some of these theatrical notices include occasional passages that seem like De Quincey's, but the evidence is far from conclusive. Part of the difficulty is that, on this one special subject, readers were invited to send in their own remarks. In the first issue, Peterkin drily explained that watching plays was a thing for which he and his initial contributors had "not much relish." "On this subject," he added, "contributions will at all times be acceptable, but should our volunteers be backward, our household troops will always be prepared for action."[42] During Peterkin's regime, theatrical criticism in the Postwas moralistic in the extreme. Its first dramatic review, apparently written by Peterkin himself, amply demonstrates the prevailing tone of the paper:

The entire play, according to this critique, "is about the most disgusting weever witnessed." "[A]ny one who purposes visiting our theatre, to see the monster," is advised "to look into the work from which it is dramatised [i.e.,Mary Shelley's novel], before he go, or allow his family to behold the spectacle."[43]

With such contempt for drama, and for Mary Shelley's novel, it is not surprising that early issues of the Post pay little attention to theatre and literature. Many of its drama notices were likely written by "volunteers,"none of whom can now be identified. Their comments were probably revised and polished by one of the paper's "household troops," including at times (I suspect) De Quincey.[44]

On 20 June 1827, Alexander Peterkin told a friend that the Post was "get[ting] on well enough considering that we are on the unpopular + anti-ministerialside."[45] The Post was "always Conservative in its politics," with an unflinching constitutional tone," rejoicing in "established institutions" of both church and state and quick to expose "the hollow pretensions" of its "Whig-Radical opponents."[46] Yet although the Post was among the most reactionary journals in Britain, Peterkin himself privately sided with the reformers. In later years the paper vented a barrage of ridicule upon its first editor, whom it then referred to as "the man P—n,"[47] or as "Peatreeking, Esquire, of Orkney."[48] "Peatreeking" was, according to the Post in 1831, "a consummate slanderer and hypocrite," as well as an "infamous" and "malignant" "Rat."[49] Moreover, in 1827 he was guilty of "political apostacy," the Post recalled, because he wrote in its columns in support of one political party while privately he supported the opposite party. "It was only from feelings of delicacy," the Post protested in 1831, "that we did not openly denounce" Peterkin "as a traitor in the camp—as a traitor to the duty which he had been hired to discharge."[50] But in 1827 Peterkin concealed his sympathies to write in the Post in support of extreme Toryism, as that paper required. Although De Quincey's politics were a little closer to those of the Post, there is evidence that he, too, altered his political views when he wrote for Blackie's Post. [51]

In his letter of June 20th, Peterkin mentioned that he was "preparing a defence of the Lords decision on the Corn bill agt. the Radicals." His resulting front-page article in the Post defended the House of Lords while dismissing "sentimental persons" who thought the Corn Laws were "robbing the poor of bread to eat."[52] From this early stage, Peterkin's duplicity began

to be a matter of comment in the local press. The Scotsman newspaper called his remarks "an amusing instance" of those who "think it a species of sacrilege" to doubt that the Duke of Wellington "is possessed of absolute wisdom"; the Scotsman then "assure[d] our readers most seriously" that Peterkin was, "out of his Post, as candid . . . a companion as can well be met with. But what may not the taking up of an unfortunate cause do?"[53] The next Saturday Peterkin defended his article against "our friends of the Scotsman." In a phrase that has implications for the study of De Quincey's contributions, he excused part of his article on the grounds that it was "not even transcribed by us, but cut out from another paper with a pair of scissors, according touse and wont in such cases."[54]

Most likely it was politics, not literature, that gave De Quincey his foothold with the Post. In the weeks between the Prospectus and the first number, the paper was embarrassed by a sudden change of government in London. In its Prospectus the Post defined itself as "sincerely attached to the present Government,"[55] but unluckily, almost as soon as those words were in print, the Tory Cabinet of Lord Liverpool was replaced by a more liberal coalition led by George Canning. This meant that potential subscribers received an entirely wrong impression of the politics of the Post. The first number tried to put the record straight: "we had the remnant of Lord Liverpool's ministry in our contemplation, and little dreamt that in a few short days that remnant would be scattered."[56] Perhaps this initial problem, combined with Peterkin's private radicalism, led the Post to look for someone better-acquainted with London politics, who could write leading-articles from a Tory viewpoint in the short time between six and seven o'clock every Saturday evening. De Quincey's previous newspaper work, and his knowledge of London, probably made him seem a good choice, despite his Englishness, his addiction, and certain literary interests that would prove anomalous in an Edinburgh newspaper. Many leading articles in the Saturday Post seem clearly De Quincey's, while others seem probably his, yet not demonstrably so.[57] Considering the haste with which they had to be written (and the likelihood of their subjects being of limited interest to De Quincey), the difficulty in deciding whether some of the weekly leaders are his or not is understandable;it does not diminish the evidence that, in general, his interests, outlook, and style are extremely unlike those of the other writers at the Post.

Luckily, De Quincey's book-reviews and other contributions on literary subjects did not have to be written so quickly. Their allusions and more ambitious effects of style make many of them about as unlike as possible

from the mundane efforts of the other contributors. At first, the Post paid scant attention to literature of any kind, in spite of its proclamations to the contrary. The first three numbers held only five reviews, with the entire review section comprising less than two columns a week, on average. The two reviews in the first issue would never be mistaken for De Quincey's, for one uses "betwixt" while the other applauds the "earnestness" of "one of the best clergymen in the Church of Scotland." In the second number, one review uses the Scots word "cairn" and the other concerns a chemistry book by a local lecturer. The third Post featured only one review, which praises a Glasgow poet for his "high and holy purpose" of "giv[ing] us an eloquent . . .exposition of Calvinistic doctrine."[58] These early reviews are by critics who, unlike De Quincey, shared the paper's dominant interests in Scottishness, piety, and science. All five early reviews have an unambitious quality, suitable to Peterkin's idea that "Our literary notices must . . . be brief." Readers of the Post, Peterkin explained, did not care for "lengthened analysis" of books, nor for "any thing like dissertation"; "It is sufficient for them to know that a book deserves perusal, or a place on the shelf; and the more simply this . . . is communicated the better."[59] Fortunately for modern readers, the Post would soon loosen these self-imposed shackles, when De Quincey became one of its reviewers.

Subscribers may have been surprised to find that the fourth issue devoted most of its space to an English book. Of the two reviews in this number, the first discusses "our national character," while using the Scots term "Provost" where an English writer would probably use "Mayor." But the second review, concerning the book Observations on Diet, is entirely English in perspective, and it helpfully uses the word "alderman" where a Scots writer would use the equivalent Scots term "baillie." (The position of "alderman" has never existed in Scotland; a helpful contrast may be observed between the Scots word "Provost" in the first review of this fourth issue and the English term "alderman" in the second review.)

The critique of Observations on Diet seems to be the first article in the Post that can be safely ascribed to De Quincey. Its lightness and wit are in striking contrast with the piety or factuality of earlier reviews. "Eating," it begins, "is a very ancient custom, and from all we can observe, appears to be a universal one likewise." Among its many allusions (to, for example, Virgil, Cervantes, Molière, Bacon, James Thomson, and Cowper, none of whom had

been cited before in the Post), there is one that I think places the attribution beyond reasonable doubt. The telling allusion is to an unnamed "amusing and witty writer," who "some time ago, in a London periodical, stood up as the advocate of the refinements of modern cookery."[60] As well as being the first mention of any "London periodical" in a book-review in the Post, those words almost certainly refer to Charles Lamb's articles on food in the London Magazine of 1821-22.[61]

A modern reader might suspect that these hints of authorship, here and later in the Post, could have been concocted to benefit the paper by misleading readers into thinking that a given article was De Quincey's. But an understanding of the context of the Post will show how unlikely it is that the signs of De Quincey were other than genuine. In the first place, most subscribers in 1827 would not have known the identity of the southerner who wrote for their paper.[62] Secondly, any allusion which hinted at De Quincey's presence was almost always necessarily an English one. De Quincey had a few Scottish friends, it is true, but a reference to John Wilson, for example, would not have hinted his presence, in the way that allusion to his English friends like Charles Lamb or Wordsworth would. Thirdly, one suspects that the paper's respectable, devout, and proudly Scottish subscribers would not have been much amused to learn that many of its articles were by a certain "English Opium-Eater."

What, then, was the purpose of the telling allusions like the one to Charles Lamb in the review of Observations on Diet? I suggest the answer lies with De Quincey's other publisher, William Blackwood. Blackwood, along with his chief advisor John Wilson, was reading the Post from an early date in 1827.[63] Unlike ordinary readers of the paper, Blackwood knew De Quincey, his situation, and some of his writings. He also met frequently with Wilson, who was probably De Quincey's closest friend in Edinburgh.[64] Many of the signs of De Quincey that probably went over the heads of ordinary

readers would have been clear to Blackwood, especially with Wilson at hand. De Quincey, I suggest, wanted his more prestigious publisher, Blackwood, to know which articles in the Post were his, so that Blackwood would realize that De Quincey was supporting his interests, both literary and political.[65] The likeliest motive behind the telling allusions was to keep on the good side of William Blackwood, so as to enhance De Quincey's position with Blackwood's Magazine. The Blackwood's connection seems to me to be the only explanation for what otherwise seems a strange contradiction between the anonymity of De Quincey's work for the Post and his use of occasional telling allusions that would betray his presence to a few privately-informed readers.

Most articles in the Post are clearly not De Quincey's. Some are manifestly by an ecclesiastic or a Scot, others are unlike him in style, vocabulary, or subject, and many are simply too short for attribution. But when those are set aside, many articles remain which appear to be the work of an Englishman, regularly employed by the paper, and more interested in literature than religion, science, or national pride. Several articles in this group refer in personal terms to De Quincey's friends in London or Westmorland. Many have a De Quinceyan style of wit and contain strong and concerted points of resemblance to works that are known to be his. Many also have explicit links to similar articles in the Post, which implies that they were written by the same person. Of course, it would be naive to think that a few Anglicisms, or a reference to one of De Quincey's friends, would amount to proof of authorship. But when an article in the Post has many links to his known writings, including one or two that point to him and to no one else, then I think his authorship is established beyond reasonable doubt, and to a degree equal to that by which other articles have long been attributed to him.[66]

After the piece on Observations on Diet, the reviews in the Post resumed their focus on Scottishness, science, and faith. A survey of the "Literary and Scientific Notices" over the next seven issues will show what the paper might have looked like if De Quincey had never joined it. The fifth issue had no reviews; its entire "Literary and Scientific" section was given over to an essay by John Malcolm and a report of a speech in Edinburgh by John James

Audubon.[67] In the sixth number, all three reviews concerned religious books by Scots authors or editors.[68] The seventh Post had no literary section at all. Issue number eight had three reviews, all Scottish; one was on Sir Walter Scott, the second was on a local scientist, and the third was on the Celtic Society. These were followed by extracts from an Edinburgh diary and assorted paragraphs on topics like "Theological Library."[69] In the ninth issue, one review praises the Scottish poems of William Tennant for their "national taste unmixed with anglified affectations," while the other review finds the work of Thomas Moore "too poetical for our cold northern taste." A poem, a second excerpt from an Edinburgh diary, seventeen miscellaneous paragraphs (on topics like "Liturgy of John Knox" and "Toothache"), and a list of recent Scottish publications bring this week's "Literary and Scientific Notices" to five columns.[70] The next number had one review (of an encyclopaedia), followed by paragraphs on "Valuable Chemical Test," "Turnips," and the like, for a combined "Literary and Scientific Notices" of just two columns.[71]

The eleventh number had two reviews, both of them extremely unlike De Quincey. The first, concerning London's Quarterly Review, happens to be the paper's first critique of an English journal. But this critic ignores every literary article in the Quarterly Review in favour of its sole religious article. As a result, all three columns of this very long piece are devoted to applauding the Quarterly's attack on the London Bible Society. The "hypocritical reptiles" who apparently "coiled themselves, and concealed their base purposes and practices from public execration" in the "glittering slough" of the London Bible Society, are berated at great length. Turning to the Edinburgh Bible Society, the Post critic pays a handsome "tribute" to its clergymen for their "characteristic energy" in exposing the "arrant quacks" of London. Readers would have inferred, from the designation of Scottish clergymen as "our countrymen," that the author of this piece was a Scot. The other review, on the same page, mundanely commends a book on the Highlands for its "patient research, and multifarious learning." With their Scottish interests and disregard of literary qualities, neither piece seems in any danger of being mistaken for De Quincey's. The same "Literary and Scientific" section

for 21 July ends with a story by John Malcolm, an extract about Sir Walter Scott's biography of Napoleon, and the usual miscellaneous paragraphs, for a total of slightly over one page.[72]

De Quincey's next three identifiable pieces were letters "To the Editor of the Edinburgh Saturday Post" in consecutive issues beginning 28 July. The letters (which were reprinted in Stuart Tave's edition) show some distinguishing features of De Quincey's work, as well as the problems he encountered. The first letter (in order of composition, but not of publication) tells of the Danish poet Klopstock, as seen through the eyes of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and others. Such a topic would have seemed totally unsuited for the Post. Peterkin set it aside for the present, but it eventually appeared in the paper, about three weeks after it was written. Although this piece is undoubtedly De Quincey's, it has one phrase that sounds suspiciously like an interpolation by the editor. The phrase is: "and hoping that I shall not offend any religious reader."[73]

Peterkin most likely encouraged De Quincey to try something more suitable. De Quincey's next letter, dated two days later, begins with a promise to "confin[e] myself" to subjects of "general attention." This second letter, concerning the latest issue of the Edinburgh Review, appeared in the Poston 28 July 1827, just one day after it was written. Its abrupt ending, which seems unlike De Quincey, was perhaps another of Peterkin's interpolations:

The terribly pompous pseudonym similarly suggests Peterkin's hand in this final sentence and signature. Suspicions are strengthened by the following week's Post, where the review continues in the shape of an undated second letter. (All other letters in the 1827 Post are dated.) A lame introduction to the second letter seems likely to be another editorial intrusion:

The review of Observations on Diet and the three long letters were probably submitted on speculation, rather than being commissioned beforehand.

When Peterkin received De Quincey's remarks on the Edinburgh Review, he decided to postpone a commissioned review of the same journal, which he received from another writer. As a result, the Post of 4 August must have seemed very odd, with the second half of De Quincey's remarks on the Edinburgh Review, as well as the original critique which had been bumped out of the previous week's paper, to make room for De Quincey's former remarks. In other words, three very long articles about the latest Edinburgh Review appeared in two consecutive issues of the Post. [76] Peterkin apologized by saying that the original critique of the Edinburgh Review had been ready

It seems Peterkin had doubts about De Quincey from the start. From this point on, subscribers would have noticed a widening gap between the original Scottish contributors and the new English one. If the Post displayed qualms about its "clever Correspondent," so too did De Quincey have difficulty adjusting to the Post. [78] Readers must have wondered why their paper now began to feature long witty reviews, citing English and European authors, after promising from the start to limit its reviews to short, straightforward notices of Scottish books.

The Saturday Post was never commercially successful. Thomas Carlyle called it "the paltriest of all newspapers."[79] Other sources agree that the Post"could not be made to pay the expenses" in 1827:

In its early months, the Post was a "dull" paper, and its editor Peterkin was little more than a "clumsy hypocrite and wretched driveller," according to a rival paper. Indeed, there seems to be some justification for that competitor's

claim that Peterkin "cannot even . . . write down in plain English what he means to say." Small wonder that, under its first editor, "the Post [did] not calculate upon ever having occasion to print above 400 or 500" copies.[81]

So "paltry" a paper would not have paid authors lavishly. Yet De Quincey's finances improved greatly during the time he worked for the Post. In a letter of 1829, he recalls coming to Edinburgh "in the summer of 1827" to "stave off . . . pecuniary embarrassments." He "continued . . . writing" in the city until June 1829, when his newfound prosperity allowed him to rejoin his family in Westmorland.[82] De Quincey's only other known source of income during those two years was Blackwood's Magazine, but Blackwood's accepted only three of his articles during that time, and paid him only £34.[83] De Quincey's rising fortunes probably represented his payment for a good many articles in the Post, particularly in view of Carlyle's statement that the Englishman was "writing all day" for "the Saturday Post" in 1827.

De Quincey was on his best behavior when he joined the Post. He did so well, at first, that he quickly took over Peterkin's position as editor. Peterkin's resignation appeared on 1 September:

As far as the public was concerned, the new editor's identity remained a secret. At no time (so far as surviving evidence shows) did the Post ever declare that De Quincey had been its editor for a few months in 1827.

A useful comparison may be made between two issues immediately before and after De Quincey became editor. Both numbers contain reviews of contrasting Scottish and English perspective. But in the Post of 1 September (the last of Peterkin's regime), the Scottish one is the first and longest. It also goes out of its way to mention "our [i.e., Edinburgh's] Military Academy" and "the contempt and ridicule with which Cockneys are regarded" in Edinburgh for their physiques. As Peterkin was an amateur athlete, this leading review was probably his.[85] Although De Quincey was not a "Cockney," he probably seemed the next thing to it to his colleagues at the Post. Moreover, De Quincey's

smallness and unusual shape (with "almost no legs," as one unkind observer put it[86] ) may have given the words in the Post an extra sting. The contempt for ill-shaped "Cockneys" may indicate some bitterness toward the Englishman who was taking Peterkin's job. In the same last issue under Peterkin, the middle review is about the Scottish Highlands, while the third and tiniest review concerns a book on London night-spots. This final piece (which is included in Volume Five of the Works) is certainly secular in its point-of-view. Probable signs of De Quincey include the indirectness and the urbane yet colloquial tone of the opening paragraph:

Other signs include a sentence-fragment (a frequent device of De Quincey's), other colloquial phrases like "dip into," and the interest in "taverns, theatres, operas," and other "evening amusements" in "the vast metropolis" of London.[87]

This brief and lighthearted review shows qualities that probably helped De Quincey to rise at the Post. Yet its off-hand mention of London as the "metropolis" (or capital city) sparked resentments that smouldered in the paper for some time. A Scots journalist, writing for a proudly Scottish paper, might call London the southern metropolis, British metropolis, or English metropolis, but would not likely call it simply "the" metropolis. Local custom is exemplified in the paper's Prospectus, where Edinburgh was called "the Metropolis of Scotland."[88] From the date of this review onward, other contributors to the Post almost always used the term "metropolis" to denote the Scottish capital, Edinburgh, rather than London.[89]

The next issue, dated September 8th, was the first one edited by De Quincey. Suddenly the "Literary and Scientific Notices" were without their usual scientific component. The reviews and other "literary" pieces now took up two full pages (as they would continue to do throughout De Quincey's regime), as compared with an average of less than one page previously. The literary columns for this week had two long reviews, the first of which was the new editor's critique of the September Blackwood's (which modern readers may recall from Dr. Tave's edition). Its beginning is indirect, amusing, and a fine example of the gallows humour De Quincey enjoyed:

These remarks are an exercise in praising Blackwood's without appearing to do so. By the end of the first paragraph De Quincey concedes that the September Blackwood's is "excellent." With flattering allusions to his friend Wilson, as well as to Westmorland, to English authors Sir Thomas Browne and John Dryden, and to continental authors A. W. Schlegel and Germaine de Stael, this review probably seemed clearly De Quincey's to William Blackwood. On the other hand, both Blackwood and his associate John Wilson would know at a glance that the other long review for this week (with its wordy eulogy for an Edinburgh clergyman) was not by De Quincey:

The third and fourth reviews in this issue seem too prosaic to be assigned to De Quincey (as well as too brief to be confidently assigned to any particular contributor).[91] The rest of the literary section for 8 September consists of two long extracts, one about the Italian athlete Belzoni, whom De Quincey had seen, and the other about the poet James Thomson; both extracts might well have been chosen by the new editor, but proof it lacking. Then comes an essay by Malcolm on Scottish identity, followed by two letters to the editor, paragraphs on farming, and a poem.[92] Without banishing Scottish or religious topics, De Quincey would continue to give priority to English and "literary" topics in the "Literary and Scientific" columns as long as he remained editor.

De Quincey's review of the September Blackwood's was the first of four critiques of this magazine that he wrote for the Post. [93] Both journals would

have been deeply embarrassed if it had become publicly known that these flattering reviews of Blackwood's were in fact written by someone who was himself a Blackwood's author. When we add that De Quincey also supplied far less flattering critiques of the Edinburgh Review (the main local rival to Blackwood's), I think it becomes clear that De Quincey, Blackwood's, and the Post all had much to gain by keeping his newspaper-work a secret as far as the general public was concerned. Neither the Post nor Blackwood's would likely tolerate articles that endangered De Quincey's anonymity, or implied that he contributed more often than he actually did. Allusions that strongly suggest De Quincey are therefore probably genuine, because the paper would only have harmed itself if reviews in the Post had been fabricated to look like De Quincey's.

Subscribers may have been puzzled, on reading their Post of 15 September 1827, by De Quincey's essay on Robert Owen. Perhaps they wondered why a Welsh-born social philosopher who lived mainly in Scotland should be condemned for forgetting "our English ideas of civil liberty."[94] To William Blackwood, however, the English allusions (including some to Wordsworth) may have quietly conveyed De Quincey's authorship. Turning to the "Literary and Scientific" pages, readers would have found few signs of the new editor. The first two reviews are theological, and the third discusses a poet in sentimental terms that are unlike De Quincey. Only the fourth and final review, in this third issue under De Quincey, is included in Volume Five. It concerns a drama, King James I. of Scotland, by the Scottish playwright David Erskine. With its unmistakably English perspective (mentioning London theatres and London authors), its irreverent use of "thee" and "thy," and its high-spirited mockery of a respected local author, this piece is an early symptom of the deepening rift between De Quincey and his colleagues. Other signs of De Quincey (discussed in the relevant headnote in Volume Five) include the word "contemporaries" and the rare Shakespearean word "forgetive." Shakespeare "wrote because his soul was full," the critic says,

The next week's literary section has almost no sign of De Quincey. For some unknown reason, its first column is occupied by a letter about sea-levels on the continent. The letter consists of only one sentence, followed by a long extract from the Literary Chronicle. Such a lacklustre start looks suspiciously like a last-minute substitute for a promised review by a regular contributor—such as, perhaps, the editor himself. Two bland reviews ensue, one praising James Montgomery's "great deal of very beautiful poetry" for its "religious feelings," and the other praising a Glaswegian's Treatise on the Use of the Blow Pipe. Then comes a letter from Walter Scott (reprinted from the Edinburgh Weekly Journal), followed by an ominous letter to the editor of the Post, complaining of English phrases like "High Court of Chancery in England" and "the Bank of England."[96] The article containing those phrases, two weeks earlier in the Post, had been reprinted from an unnamed source, but it was quite likely selected by De Quincey; the eight words which introduce it (i.e., "We copy the following article from a contemporary") were therefore probably written by De Quincey, although proof is lacking.[97]

The same "Literary and Scientific Notices" of 22 September contain a second letter of complaint, this time over De Quincey's piece on Robert Owen." Permit me to express my surprise," the letter austerely remarks, "that a person so well versed in . . . political economy . . . should assert that Mr. Owen's`delusions' have been hitherto subjected to no examination."[98] Owen's "delusions," were that "The reproof of our Correspondent is just." That apology is the only part of the literary section of 22 September which seems to be De Quincey's.[99] In the absence of proof, it may be speculated that he supplied a long review, which he expected would appear at the head of the literary columns but which offended Blackie, perhaps for reasons related to the letters of complaint. Perhaps then, at the last moment, the letter on rising sea-levels was inserted, in place of a leading review by De Quincey. The poor quality of this number, and the two complaints from readers, suggest that the new editor was not doing very well at this point. The sea, it seems, was indeed rising for Thomas De Quincey.[100]

Next week, the editor made a better showing. The first review was his amusing essay on the October Blackwood's. Slightly short of a full page in length, it has many signs of authorship, beginning with allusions to Lamb, Wordsworth, and Coleridge. Of the two other reviews on 29 September, one was by William Hay, and the other was a brief notice of a biography of Dr. Jenner.[101] Four miscellaneous paragraphs (on Egypt, mental illness, the Monmouth Rebellion, and the Scots painter David Wilkie) brought the "Literary and Scientific Notices" to nearly seven full columns.

The political pages for 6 October contain De Quincey's article on "WasteLands and Emigration" (familiar to readers of Tave's edition), but the literary section has few signs of De Quincey. Once again, there is no leading review. The "Literary and Scientific Notices" begin with an extract on the dramatist Ugo Foscolo, "from a London periodical." As De Quincey was interested in Italian literature and may have met Foscolo (who lived in London), the extract was possibly chosen by him. A tale by John Malcolm and a perfunctory review of the Naval and Military Magazine complete the literary section.[102]

The next issue had three reviews. The one on "Italian Opera in England" is perhaps De Quincey's, since opera was an interest of his, but there seems to be no clear evidence one way or the other. Unless a piece has specific signs of Dr Quincey, it is not included in Volume Five. The second review for 13 October was surely by one of the more pious Postmen, as it "earnestly recommend[s]" a book on missionaries "to the perusal and serious consideration of our readers."[103]

Only the third review, concerning the book Tales of all Nations, has features pointing to De Quincey and no one else at the Post. This piece is reprinted for the first time in Volume Five. Its point-of-view is English and literary (with allusions to several English novelists), and its beginning is informal, indirect, and metaphorical:

Aversion to "long stories" was one of De Quincey's crochets (and one which, judging from the longwindedness of other contributors, was not widely shared

at the Post). The appeal to pleasure as a basis for judgment again suggests De Quincey, since most critics in the paper tended to judge by religious or patriotic criteria. A hint of self-mockery in the ending may have been Editor De Quincey's attempt to disarm certain criticisms of his recent articles on political economy:

Next week's paper carried De Quincey's "Disciples of Mr. Malthus" (again familiar to readers of Tave) as its political leader. But its two reviews are too pedestrian, uncritical, or pious for De Quincey. The first lauds a minor Scots poet for his "very sweet poetry," while the second praises a minor novelist for her "Christian principles" and "examples of piety so useful"; "While she writes in an agreeable style, shewing a mind deeply imbued with the elegant literature of her native language, she, at the same time, discovers an intimate knowledge of the Holy Scriptures." (These praises for a now-forgotten novelist contrast with the vituperation heaped on Mary Shelley and Frankenstein,earlier in the Post.) The two reviews, and the usual assortment of extracts and correspondence, brought the "Literary and Scientific Notices" to six columns; other items, elsewhere in the same issue, brought its "literary" content to almost nine columns.[105]

The following Saturday, 27 October, saw the editor's long essay on London's Quarterly Review and Standard newspaper dominating the political pages of the Post. If he read this article, William Blackwood almost certainly would have spotted De Quincey's presence through its Ricardian economic doctrines, which are unusual for a Tory paper. As Blackwood, himself a conservative, told a friend a few weeks later, "one may as well attempt to overturn a mountain" as try to dissuade De Quincey from his "Ricardo notions."[106] Turning to the "Literary and Scientific" pages, both reviews this week were unlike De Quincey: the one concerns the Scottish Jacobites, and the other naively praises a collection of "very pretty" poems.[107]

After so many complaints and other signs of failure during his two months as editor, De Quincey may have been relieved to return to being a regular

contributor.[108] Nothing speaks more eloquently of his failure than the fact that Alexander Peterkin came back to his old position. Yet De Quincey must have had some success, for he rose again to become the paper's co-editor the following summer.[109]

Peterkin's return was heralded on 3 November 1827.[110] As might be expected, the literary section for that issue begins with a "Scottish" review, followed by an "English" review, The first, a long patriotic eulogy of Sir Walter Scott, commends that novelist for "shed[ding] a glory on our country." "[O]ur wizard of the North," we are told, "conjures up a host of . . . pictures," "from the depths of his own splendid imagination," "of which every Scotsman is so justly proud." The other main review, concerning the November Blackwood's,has the wit, humour, and lightness of touch that distinguish De Quincey's work in the Post. With references to English, German, and Italian authors, this second review would (I suggest) have been easily recognized as De Quincey's by a grateful William Blackwood.[111]

For the rest of 1827 the Post continued with Peterkin at the helm. De Quincey was mainly, but not completely, confined to politics. In case readers were still upset by the Anglicized tone of some recent reviews, the three critiques for 10 November were all clearly Scottish. The first mentions King "James the Sixth" of Scotland, the second singles out two Scots writers (from a list of British writers) as "poets of our own country," and the third commends a Scottish farming-magazine for its "national point of view."[112]

In the next three issues, a prominent notice above the literary columns announced a return to "our original proposal, of constituting the `SATURDAY POST' a Regular Chronicle of National Literature." Priority would again be given to literature "connected with Scotland." From now on, the Post declared, "Every new work which issues from the Scottish Press" would be "regularly noticed."[113] Under this arrangement Peterkin apparently did

most of the reviewing, but De Quincey was sometimes assigned to reviews where his English sympathies would be less of a detriment. The Post of 17 November contained the first half of his critique of the newest Edinburgh Review, with important reflections on Burke and Kant. His remarks on the young Carlyle as a "man of genius"[114] probably played a part in De Quincey's becoming "almost a friend" (as Carlyle put it) with Thomas and Jane Carlyle. A few days after those words appeared in the Post, De Quincey paid his first visit to the Carlyle home, where he "sate till midnight" talking about German literature, poverty, and "the King of Donkies" at the Post. [115]

In December the Post featured De Quincey's critiques of the latest Blackwood's Magazine and Foreign Quarterly Review (both accepted as De Quincey's since Dr. Tave's edition). Two other reviews from December seem vaguely like De Quincey, but conclusive evidence is lacking. Both are English and "literary" in their terms of reference, yet they lack any specific indication that would settle the issue. Although excluded from Volume Five, they are mentioned here in case future researchers uncover new evidence. The first, on Charlotte Bury's novel Flirtation, briefly discusses "fancy and imagination" and "the picturesque."[116] The other, about a book on gas-lighting, uses "between," describes London as "the metropolis," and speaks of the "Mayor of London" "in the days of Henry V."[117] If these two very straightforward reviews were De Quincey's, they show him in uninspired moments, perhaps when he was rushing to meet a deadline.[118]

Near the end of December De Quincey almost certainly played a role in reviewing Allan Cunningham's romance Michael Scott. The first paragraph is far too saccharine (with flattery of "sweet and plaintive ballads"), and the second is too Scottish. But in the last sentence of the second paragraph, the tone lightens. This, and the ensuing final paragraph, seem likely additions by De Quincey. Evidence includes the stress on pleasure, conversational phrases like "to wade through," and personal allusions to Cunningham, whom De Quincey knew from his London Magazine days. Perhaps an original draft of this review was handed to De Quincey, on account of his knowledge of the London poet. De Quincey possibly then shortened the original remarks to make room for his own more critical conclusion:

The style and outlook here suggest De Quincey, especially in the sentence beginning "It is a dreary thing." But is his part limited to one sentence, or does it include all or much of the final paragraph too? Because of the uncertainty in fixing the limits of De Quincey's contribution, this piece, too, is excluded from Volume Five.[120]

Many questions still surround the Edinburgh Saturday Post, and De Quincey's changing role in it. On the one hand, his anomalous position renders some of his pieces fairly easy to identify. On the other hand, there is a small but undeniable grey area consisting of articles which may or may not be his, or in which he played a role that cannot be precisely defined at present. The uncertainties will probably remain, unless new information comes to light.