Encyclopaedia Britannica > Volume 3, Athens-BOI

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But the new favourite found, as Bolingbroke had found
before him, that it was quite as hard to keep the shadow
of power under a vagrant and mendicant prince as to
keep the reality of power at Westminster. Though James
had neither territories nor revenues, neither army nor navy,
there was more faction and more intrigue among his
courtiers than among those of his successful rival. Atter-
bury soon perceived that his counsels were disregarded, if
not distrusted. His proud spirit was deeply wounded.
He quitted Paris, fixed his residence at Montpellier, gave
up politics, and devoted himself entirely to letters. In the
sixth year of his exile he had so severe an illness that his
daughter, herself in very delicate health, determined to run
all risks that she might see him once more. Having
obtained a licence from the English Government, she went
by sea to Bordeaux, but landed there in such a state that
she could travel only by boat or in a litter. Her father,
in spite of his infirmities, set out from Montpellier to meet
her; and she, with the impatience which is often the sign
of approaching death, hastened towards him. Those who
were about her in vain implored her to travel slowly.
She said that every hour was precious, that she only wished
to see her papa and to die. She met him at Toulouse,
embraced him, received from his hand the sacred bread
and wine, and thanked God that they had passed one day
in each other’s society before they parted for ever. She
died that night.
It was some time before even the strong mind of Atter-
bury recovered from this cruel blow. As soon as he was
himself again he became eager for action and conflict; for
grief, which disposes gentle natures to retirement, to inac¬
tion, and to meditation, only makes restless spirits more
restless. The Pretender, dull and bigoted as he was, had
found out that he had not acted wisely in parting with
one who, though a heretic, was, in abilities and accom¬
plishments, the foremost man of the Jacobite party. The
bishop was courted back, and was without much difficulty
induced to return to Paris, and to become once more the
phantom minister of a phantom monarchy. But his long
and troubled life was drawing to a close. To the last,
however, his intellect retained all its keenness and vigour.
He learned, in the ninth year of his banishment, that he
had been accused by Oldmixon, as dishonest and malignant
a scribbler as any that has been saved from oblivion by
the Dunciad, of having, in concert with other Christ
Churchmen, garbled Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion.
The charge, as respected Atterbury, had not the slightest
foundation; for he was not one of the editors of the
History, and never saw it till it was printed. He
published a short vindication of himself, which is a model
in its kind, luminous, temperate, and dignified. A copy
of this little work he sent to the Pretender, with a letter
singularly eloquent and graceful. It was impossible, the
old man said, that he should write anything on such a
subject without being reminded of the resemblance between
his own fate and that of Clarendon. They were the only
two English subjects that had ever been banished from
their country and debarred from all communication with
their friends by Act of Parliament. But here the resem¬
blance ended. One of the exiles had been so happy to
bear a chief part in the restoration of the royal house. All
that the other could now do was to die asserting the rights
of that house to the last. A few weeks after this letter
was written Atterbury died. He had just completed his
seventieth year.
His body was brought to England, and laid, with great
privacy, under the nave of Westminster Abbey. Only
three mourners followed the coffin. No inscription marks
the grave. That the epitaph with which Pope honoured
the memory of his friend does not appear on the walls of
-ATT 57
the great national cemetery is no subject of regret, for
nothing worse was ever written by Colley Cibber.
Those who wish for more complete information ahout Atterbury
may easily collect it from his sermons and his controversial writings,
from the report of the parliamentary proceedings against him,
which will be found in the State Trials ; from the five volumes of
his correspondence, edited by Mr Nichols, and from the first volume
of the Stuart papers, edited by Mr Glover. A very indulgent but
a very interesting account of the bishop’s political career will be
found in Lord Stanhope’s valuable History of England. (M.)
ATTICA, the most famous district of ancient Greece, is
a triangular piece of ground projecting in a south-easterly
direction into the Aegean Sea, the base line being formed
by the continuous chain of Mounts Cithseron and Parnes,
the apex by the promontory of Sunium. It is washed on
two sides by the sea, and this feature seems to have given
rise to the name; for, notwithstanding the unusual letter-
change, ’ArTLKrj probably stands for ’Aktikt/, since Strabo
and other ancient writers inform us that the country origi¬
nally bore both this name and that of ’Aktyj. The latter
designation was frequently used by the Greeks to describe
an extensive tract reaching into the sea, especially when,
as in the case of Attica and the Argolic Acte, it was joined
to the continent by a broad base. The coast is broken up
into numerous small bights and harbours, which, however,
are with few exceptions exposed to the south wind; the
irregularity of the outline accounts for its great length in com¬
parison of the superficial area of the country. The surface
of Attica, as of the rest of Greece, is very mountainous, and
between the mountain chains lie several plains of no great
size, open on one side to the sea. On the west its natural
boundary is the Corinthian Gulf, so that it would include
the district of Megaris; and, as a matter of fact, before the
Dorian invasion, which resulted in the foundation of
Megara, the whole of this country was politically one,
being in the hands of the Ionian race. This is proved by
the column which, as we learn from Strabo, once stood on
the Isthmus of Corinth, bearing on one side the inscription,
“ This land is Peloponnesus, not Ionia ”—
raS’ earl ne\oir6vvT](ros, ovk ’lairia—
and on the other, “ This land is not Peloponnesus, but
Ionia ”—
t«5’ oypid neXonSri/yaos, a\\' Tawfiz.
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