Third edition - 1823
William Blackwood owed much of his magazine's success in its early days to the talents of J. G. Lockhart and his co-editor John Wilson (more widely known as 'Christopher North' in his later years). Wilson was most successful in his rapidly written pieces for Blackwood's and other journals and in his short stories and poems. His Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life obviously comes from contributions to Blackwood's magazine - Ian Campbell regards many of them as mere 'fillers'. Unlike Galt, whose work confronts and analyses the changes taking place in the first decades of the 19th century, it is rare to find this in Wilson's collection. Ian Jack is damning: Scottish sentimentality of the most objectionable kind! It is clear to see the Kailyard of Ian Maclaren and James Barrie in the parochial idylls and domestic sketches of Wilson. One could argue that, at least, there were elements of humour in Maclaren, but I found none in Wilson's tales. At one stage I felt that the book should at least have been called Shadows and a few Lights of Scottish Life or, more accurately still, Dark Clouds and Lights...
And yet, clearly, Wilson found an appreciative market - my 3rd edition is only a year after the book was first issued. Blackwood's republished it separately in 1846, 1853 and 1868 and combined it with The Trials of Margaret Lyndsay and The Foresters in 1865, 1867 and 1883. Moreover, there were several American editions - for instance, in 1834, 1846 and 1860. In 1823, only a year after its first publication, the USA brought out Stories, Selected from the Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life, for Youth, with engravings. Lucky children! There was even a chapbook, published in Glasgow c. 1855-60, of one of the stories, Blind Allan. A Tale.
2nd USA ed. 1823 'Chapbook' - Glasgow
Just as Elizabeth Hamilton's The Cottagers of Glenburnie was lapped up, there was sincere empathy for Wilson's writings on both sides of the Atlantic. It is very hard for someone reading them in the early 21st century - essentially an irreligious age or, rather, an age when so many regard traditional/authorised religion with indifference. The true literary historian should at least try and imagine life, and the contemporary readership, for what they were, not what we think they ought to have been. So-called progress, if it carries with it contempt for the past, is shallow.
So, what of the stories themselves?
Lights (11) - The Lily of Liddesdale - goodness reigns! Amy and Lily get their just desserts; Moss-Side - a bequest of £1500 and the recovery of his daughter from near death ensure the poor, but good, man Gilbert Ainslie can look forward to a better life; The Head-Stone - father's death-bed/burial brings estranged sons together; The Lover's Last Visit - all comes good to those who deserve it; The Snow Storm - little Hannah Lee and her father survive a vicious snow-storm, thanks to the love of a young shepherd sweetheart; The Family-Tryst - determination and Christian virtue turn destitution into financial recovery; Blind Allan - hurrah, a blind man regains his sight thanks to a skilful surgeon and God; The Rainbow - Mills & Boon sentimentality, but at least there is 'light'; The Omen - well, the two rose bushes and the lovers did bloom, after being very droopy!; The Shealing - a more positive tale of ecumenicalism in a period of doctrinal discord and persecution. To be fair, Wilson saves the tale with the most 'light' until the last - Helen Eyre. It is also the longest, at 40 pages. The Orphan, an illegitimate offspring, finds happiness at last, proving that true love will overcome deep contemporary prejudice (so different from today, when probably as many children are born to the unmarried as from those couples who have pledged marriage vows). It is almost as if the author deliberately 'book-ended' the stories with powerful 'Lights'.
Shadows (7) - An Hour in the Manse - a late repentance doesn't quite erase bad behaviour; Sunset and Sunrise - watch the wife, she might be dead soon; The Minister's Widow - does the last sentence reveal the author's viewpoint? notwithstanding all I had seen and heard, I could not but think deserved almost to be called happy, in a world which even the most thoughtless know is a world of sorrow; The Snowstorm - devotion wins out; The Elder's Death-Bed - quite a simple, affecting tale; The Elder's Funeral - a good man departs this mortal coil; The Poor Scholar - Ian Maclaren told a similar story 70 years' later. Gloom abounds. Even Bible-reading couldn't save the only child.; The Forgers - commences, "Let us sit down on this stone seat," said my aged friend, the pastor, "and I will tell you a tale of tears..." Hangings follow.
Dark Clouds (3) - The Twins - a pure white marble stone in a graveyard of two children asleep in each others arms reflects a tragic tale; Lilias Grieve - even though an 'angel' seemingly is sent from Heaven to save an old couple from being executed by soldiers, it is a pretty disturbing story of cruelty; The Baptism - at least the 'right' beings perished, the horrible persecuting soldiers!
Thunderstorms (3) - The Covenanter's Marriage Day - oh dear, oh misery me. The newly-weds, slaughtered by soldiers were laid down together in a mournful bed; Simon Gray - deep, deep gloom with no 'light' at all. How, after such a miserable story, Wilson could end it with the expired minister, lying on his dead family's tombstone where the expression of the dead man's countenance was perfectly serene - and the cold night had not been felt by Simon Gray. Nonsense!!; Consumption - this tale is beyond parody, sickly and morbidly sentimental. It ends: Kiss - Oh kiss me once before I die!" He stooped down, and she had just strength to put her arms round his neck, when, with a long sigh, - she expired. It is a precursor to the real-life sad story of the three Brontë sisters. How could any author write It was even a sublime satisfaction to know that God was to call them away from their mortal being unsevered... ugh!
Now to return to John Galt and, hopefully more 'Light' and Humour.
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I have been re-reading (8th August) Francis Jeffrey's Secondary Scottish Novels (Edinburgh Review, October 1823). He was clearly not much of a fan, although they do praise Wilson's beautifully and sweetly written style... in a soft spirit of humanity and gentlenessHe charges the style with being too elaborate and uniform...we had marked some passages for censure, and some for ridicule - but the soft-heartedness of the author has softened our hearts towards him - and we cannot, just at present, say anything but good of him.
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