UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES GIFT OF Dr. KHKKoT C. MOORE ^1 SCOTT AT SMAll.IlOI.ME TOWER THE BOYHOOD OF GREAT MEN. INTENDED AS AN EXAMPLE TO YOUTH. Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time ; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipvvreck'd brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate ; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. Longfellow. mm Jrllustratfons. NEW YORK: ttAUPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 329 & 331 PEARL STREET, FRANKLIN SQUARE. CT E23b PREFACE. That a powerful interest attaches to the hoyhood of great men will hardly he denied by ^ any one who has given the slightest attention v>j to the subject. The juvenile exploits, adven- tures, and aspirations of those who have per- formed memorable services to their country y and their species, led mighty armies into the V field, advanced the progress of humanity and ^ civilization, achieved important triumphs in lit- 'J$ erature and science, or associated their names honorably and indissolubly with some great profession, are matters fraught with instrac- tion to the young, and with interest to all. The object of the following pages is to place before the reader brief sketches of the early career of those who have fought their way to 215123 Iv PREFACE. eminence and distinction in the various walks of life ; and thus to develop in the mind of youth noble tastes and high principles, as well as to encourage, stimulate, and sustain that spirit of industry, which is essential to the at- tainment of any position worth striving for. Youth is the season of generous emotions, he- roic impulses, and high resolves ; the career of the boy usually foreshadows that of the man ; no day passes without thoughts and ex- periences which will lead to good or evil, just as thc^ are pondered and profited by ; and the importance of directing the attention to laud- able pursuits, by actual examples, at an age when the heart and mind are so peculiarly susceptible of lasting impressions, can scarcely be questioned. The fame, honors, and rewards, consequent upon youthful talent being brought to full and brilliant maturity, depend almost, if not alto- gether, on the energy and perseverance cm- ployed in the struggles of life. In the follow- ing sketches there is hardly one instance of a man, however highly gifted and richly endow* ed by nature, who has risen to a conspicuous PREFACE. V position, and filled a large space in the publio eye, without the most assiduous and diligent devotion to his chosen pursuits. It is entire- ly by painstaking, self-denial, determination, and midnight study, that the men who move the world place themselves in positions that give them the power of performing great and worthy actions ; or, as the American poet ex- presses it — " The heights by great men reached and kept, AVere not attained by sudden flight ; But they, while their companions slept. Were toiling upward in the night." Indeed, nothing great can be accomplished without arduous exertion and a resolute pur- pose ; but all biography proves that where these are truly and honestly manifested, diffi- culties yield and fall before the aspirant who is animated by a real sense of duty, and a clear spirit of well-regulated ambition. Those, who have fairly and faithfully exercised theso wortny means, have seldom failed, in the long run, to rise to positions of credit, respect, and honor. Moreover, no period of life can be so appropriate as boyhood for laying the found- ation of that influence arising from acquired PREFACE knowledge and habitual industry. The pleas, inar dreams of childhood, and the romantic vi- sions of youth, may and will pass away ; but the recollections of faculties truly exercised, intellect properly applied, duties nobly per- formed, and great thoughts terminating in no- ble deeds, impart a satisfaction to the mind, which neither length of days nor the cares of the world can efface. A work intended to incite youth to industry and goodness can require no apology, except for the imperfect manner in wdiich it is exe- cuted ; and the writer of these pages is too well aware that these imperfections are nei- ther so few nor far between as could he wished CONTENTS I. 3}oet8. SIR WALTER SCOTT II POPE M 11. SJfBtoctaus. C IBBON Kb SIRJAMES MACKINTOSH Vi III. Ctftfcs. DR. JOHNSON 53 lORD JEFFREY 63 IV. Statesmen. CANNING 7S WEBSTER RS Tiii CONTENTS. V. iatopcrs. LORD MANSFIELD 90 LORD ELmw no VI. JJljiIanttiTopfsts. WILBERFORCE 123 SfR THOMAS POWELL BUXTOX 133 TIL SstTonomecs. GALILEO 147 FERGUSOX 157 VIII. Xatural ^flosojiSicrs. SIR ISAAC NEWTON 170 GASSENDl 181 FRANKLIN 186 i^at])cmatrrian5. PASCAL IM DaLKMRBRT SOS X. Chemists. CAVENDISH MO SIR HUMPIIRV DAVY 216 CONTENTS. U XL Sailors. LORD ST. VINCENT «1 NELSON 230 XIL SolUfcrs. DUKE OF MARLBOROUGU S39 BONAPARTE 248 xm. Musicians. HANTIEL 259 MOZART 265 XIV. painters. sm T. LAWRENCE 2Te SIR DAVID WILKIE SsC XV. Sculptors. CANOVA 304 TUORWALDSEN 317 XM. Sctiolars. SIR WlLLLiM JON"ES 323 DR. ARNOLD 3» X CONTENTS. XVII. UlSnOP KEN 331 DR. PARR ^3 DR. CHALMERS 347 XVIII. Sutfleons. JOHN HUNTER 358 SIR ASTLEY C( OPER 863 XIX. ■NaturaUsts. SIR JOSEPH BANKS 373 AUDUBON SSI LIST OF PLATES. SCOTT AT SMAILIIOLME TOWER Frontispiece. CANNING'S MIMIC HOUSE OF COMMONS 78 EARLY HOME OF WEBSTER 87 RESIDENCE OF WEBSTER AT MARSHFIELD 97 FERGUSON'S FIRST ATTEMPTS IN ASTRONOMY 162 NAPOLEON'S WARLIKE PREDILECTIONS 249 WILKIE'S EARLY STUDIES 287 YOUNG CANOVA'S SKILL IN MODELING 300 CHALMERS' FIRST SERMON 351 ASTLEY COOPER'S DEBUT IN SURGERY 367 BOYHOOD OF GREAT MEN. CHAPTER I. Poets. BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. The time-honored saying, that a poet is born, not made, may be quite true so far as it goes ; but that he will sing, like the lark, irrespective of the influ- ences to which he is subjected, and the advantage he takes of circumstances, is hardly confirmed by the lives of those who have left the impress of their poetic genius on the mind of a busy world. It would, perhaps, be impossible to name any poet the story of whose life is more attractive than that of the author of "Marmion," and it would be diffi- cult to mention any period of it more interesting than his boyhood ; for it was then that, seated by some N POETS. ancient, ruinous fortress, or haunted stream, he im- bibed his strong love of legendary lore, and his enthu* Elastic admiration of picturesque scenery, which were afterward harmoniously combined and displayed in those marvelous works of poetry and romance that charm the imagination, touch the heart, and dazzle the fancy, of every reader. Fortunately his own magic pen has left an account of his early years, which scarcely any can peruse without regretting its brevity ; and it has been ex- plained and illustrated by one who thoroughly under- stood the "mighty minstrel." From such a store- house it may not be impossible to gather suflicient materials for a brief, but perhaps not altogether un- instructive sketch. Sir Walter Scott's father, a most respectable Avriter to the Signet, derived his descent from the renowned Border family of Harden, the exploits of whose mem- bers the great bard loved so well to celebrate and dwell upon. Some ancient traditions might linger around the hearth of the worthy lawyer, but he had not one particle of poetry or romance in his nature. A Presbyterian after the most rigid fashion, the Sab- bath was so strictly kept within his walls, that the being allowed to read the " Pilgrim's Progress" was deemed a favor of no trivial kind. Had Scott passed the first few years of his life in his father's house, it is unlikely that there would ever have come out of il u. poet, with the soul of a cavalier, who labored as BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 13 Biduously to restore the E-oyalist heroes of a bygone age to popular favor, though, in all probability, he would have gained distinction in some other field than that of literature. Dr. Johnson tells us, that the true genius is a mind of large general powers ac- cidentally determined to some particular direction , and, as it happened, an accident which induced a physical infirmity was the cause of Scott's mind, at so early an age, receiving impressions that were ere long reflected in that of the world. Walter Scott was born on the 15lh of August, 1771, at the head of the College Wynd, in Edin- burgh, his mother being a daughter of Dr. Ruther- ford, a Professor of Medicine in the University, who added lively wit and literary ability to his professional accomphshments. The future bard is represented as having been an uncommonly healthy infant. He providentially escaped the extremely perilous guard- ianship of a consumptive nurse, and showed great signs of health and vigor till he was eighteen months old, when a severe fever brought on that lameness which luckily was not, in the end, such as to mai the symmetry of his noble form, or to embitter for a moment his still nobler mind. However, it caused him to be removed for change of air, under the care of a love-sick maid-servant, who, deeming him the cause of separation from her lover, was, according to her own confession, sorely tempted to cut his throat with her scissors, and bury him in a morass near 16 POETS. Sandie Knowe, " the thatched mansion" of his gray- haired grandsire, whom he has described as — " Wise without learning, plain and good, And sprung of Scotland's gentler blood." Hard by stood Smailholme Tower, the scene of his fine ballad, " The Eve of St. John ;" and, in tho immediate neighborhood, those dismantled baronial castles, mouldering abbeys, and ruined towers, which struck his infant eye, and touched his childish imag- ination, with a force, the efiect of which was felt to his dying day. Here, while living under his grand- father's roof, he dated his consciousness of existence. He speedily became a great favorite with all about the farm, and was rejoiced when carried about in the open air ; but particularly enjoyed himself in the company of the old "cow-bailie," who would take him on his shoulders when going to watch his flocks ; and Scott delighted to roll about on the grass among the sheep and lambs, for which he entertained a feel- ing of adectiou that lasted all his life. He was, gome years later, by the kindness of his uncle, trans- ferred to the back of a Shetland pony, which no doubt, he mounted with an anxious desire to imitate tho deeds of some of the old forayers, whose memory " tradition's simple tongue" still kept alive in ths district. Perhaps the recollection of his own early feelings prompted his description of the heir of Erank- Bome's "childish sport :" UOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT 17 " A fancied moss-trooper, the boy The truncheon of a spear bestrode, And round the hall, right merrily, In mimic foray rodo." He was much fonder of exercise iii the open an than of his book ; but was soon taught to read by his "Aunt Jenny," who, as well as her aged mother, communicated to him much ancient lore, and lulled him to rest with such old Border-gathering songs as her memory furnished. Different sounds from the rude rhymes thus chanted would, it must be confess- sd, have found their way to his infant ears had he been brought up by his strict parents. As it was, he learned by heart the ballad of " Hardicanute," much to the annoyance of the venerable clergyman, who found it utterly impossible to enjoy a sober chat with his parishioners, so resolute was young Waltei ni shouting it forth. About this period Scott's father was advised to send him to Bath, the waters of which, it was suggested, would be of advantage to his weak limb. Accompa- nied, therefore, by his aunt, he went to London by sea, visited some of the remarkable places, and then traveled to Bath, where he remained a year. This stay proved of little or no benefit to his health, but must have been highly beneficial in opening up his young mind. He was introduced to all the amusements suitable to his age which the place afforded, and was quite bewitched with the theatre. So deeply, irdeed, B 18 1'(>ETS. was it graven on his memory, that fifty /ears aiter ward he described the feehngs with which it in- spired him, just as if it had been an affair of the previous day. He never recalled his juvenile im- pressions of the place without a feeling of pleasure , .uferior, however, to that expressed at the recollec- tion of being laid among the crags and rocks about his grandsire's homestead, viewing the landscape around with delighted eye, or exclaiming " Bonny I" as the lightning flashed around him. For there it was that, while listening to his relations' stories of th& olden times, his mind's eye caught the first glimpse of that past state of society, half military, half pas- toral, which he afterward described with so much clfect, of those stalwart moss-troopers whose word was "snaffle, spur, and spear;" and of those gallant knights, "dreaded in battle, and loved in hall," who seem to ride along his pages in glittering mail, with waving plumes and lofty crests. From Bath he went, for a short while, to Edin- burgh, and then returned to Sandie Knowe. In his eighth year he was taken for sea-bathing, to the his loric village of Prestonpans, where he became in timatc with an old military veteran oi the name ot Dalgctty, who was glad ot so ready and eager u listener to his tales of the German wars, in which he had been. That his attention had been of tho deepest kind the future fully proved. Scott now returned to his father's house in Edin- BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. !'j burgh, and, after a little prepatory training, was sent to the High School, in 1779, where, according to his own account, he was no apt scholar, hut " glanced like a meteor from one end of the class to the other." He soon, however, became a great favorite with hig schoolfellows, who used to assemble around and ad- mire him, as he told countless stories. It might have been natural for him to betake himself to study, owing to the lameness which appeared to unfit him, in some measure, for the athletic sports of other boys. But, with his characteristic energy and systematic rebellion against circumstances, he set himself to gain renown in the very games for which he might have been considered disqualified ; and the valor and prow ess of the descendant of "auld Wat," as he prided himself on being, soon became conspicuous in the desperate frays, in which the well-clad champions of George's Square engaged, against the ragged but brave and hardy urchins of the Crosscausevvav. On his class being transferred to Dr. Adam, the rector, Scott came more into notice, and several of his translations in verse from Horace and Virgil were highly thought of. He should have gone direct to college, but his health becoming extremely delicate from rapid growth, he was again consigned to the care of his aunt, who now resided at Kelso, which he calls "the most beautiful, if not the most roman- tic village in Scotland." Here he awoke to that feeling of pleasure derived from the contemplation of 20 POETS. those natural objects tf which he had so fine a per- ception, and rejoiced over Percy's "Ballads" with heartfelt joy. Sometimes, while poring over them ill a huge platanus-tree ia the garden, he lost ali thought of dinner, usually the chief consideration to a youth with the sharp appetite of thirteen. He states that the first few shillings he possessed were devoted to the purchase of the beloved volumes, and that henceforth his companions, and all Avho would hearken, were deluged with recitations from their pages. Indeed he had an extraordinary memory, which was always used to good purpose, and ever retained such passages of an author as pleased him. lie was particularly fond of Spenser, whose knights and ladies were well calculated to delight his im- agination, as they continued to do in his greatest days. The same feelings that led him to luxuriate in the descriptions of the poet made him regard ancient edifices with a peculiar veneration. When living with his father he was accustomed to take long walks into the country to view storied castles or crumbling towers, or any other object of interest, in company with his schoolfellows, over whom, by the lirnmess of his understanding and the strength of his character, he acquired great influence, long before there appeared the slightest probability cf his taking so high a place in the world of letters as that which he so nobly won and gloriously occupies. It has been well said that, in such expeditions, " He peo- BOYHOOD OF SIR WA1,TER SCOTT. 21 pled his haunts with their ancient heroes. His im- dfjination created a present out of the shadowy past, and in this enchanting but fictitious world, he hved, moved and had his being." Recalled from his pleasant retreat on the banks of the Tweed, very much to his regret, as may be con- ceived, Scott returned to Edinburgh, and was sent to college, at which, however, he gave no indications of such talents as were likely to conduct him to ex- traordinary greatness. Greek, especially, he never would learn ; but, in after life, much repented his neglect of it. Again he fell ill, and went once more to Kelso, where he forswore Latin, forgot the little Greek he had acquired, but read every thing that came in his way and was capable of amusing. In 1785 he entered upon the ordinary apprentice- ship of five years in the office of his father, whose chief ambition was to see his son " a well-employed lawyer." He applied himself to his new duties with an industry, stimulated partly by a sincere wish to please his parents, and partly by an anxious desire to secure the fees, without which he could not con- veniently have purchased such books as the bent of his mind led him so eagerly to covet, and so highly to prize. He acknowledges, indeed, that he was in the habit of keeping romances and other books in hia desk to be read by snatches as an opportunity oc- curred ; but for this it is impossible very highly to censure him, as it is, no doubt, largely practiced by ■CZ POETS. niany who have no such excuse as the man destined to bestow on the land of his birth an imperishable name, and to fill the world with his renown. He confesses to having disliked the drudgery and detested the confinement ; and, no doubt, when copying an hundred and twenty pages a day, without food or rest, his fancy must often have strayed to the en- chanting spot where the Tweed and Teviot form a junction, or to the well-loved groves of Mertoun, and the dilapidated peel of Ercildoune — scenes early and indelibly stamped on the tablets of his heart, ren- dered famous by his pen, and the mention of which to the last stirred his finest sympathies. At this period he formed a romantic and fancifu^ attachment, the memory of which is said to have haunted him in maturer years. The object of it was II young lady highly connected, and so well provided for in point of fortune, that there was little chance of her father's pride being bowed to consent to her marriage with the young student of law, though the latter for years nourished the hope of an ultimate union. She was afterward married to a gentleman of wealth and character ; but so strong was the im- pression of this dream, that it furnished heroines, gentle, graceful, and attractive, for some of his most mtcrestiiig and life-like works of fiction. Meantime, m the second year of his aj^prenticeship, he had been Eeverely affected by the breaking of a blood-vessel, and. being confined to bed, amused himself with his BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 23 favoiitp books, illustrating^ the battles and sieges of which he read with chess-men, shells, and pebbles, arranged in such a manner as to represent tho hostile armies. He had iilso mirrors so placed in liia room as to enable him to watch the troops march to and from their exercise in the neighboring mead ows. It was about this time that he met, at the house of a friend, the poet Burns, then being lion ized in the Scottish capital, who, for some informa- tion in regard to a quotation on a print, rewarded him witli a kind look, and the cherished words, " You'll be a man yet, sir I" It would be interest- ing to know what influence words so full of meaning and encouragement from the bard of the people had on the future of his immortal successor. About 1790, not much relishing that branch of the legal profession to which his father belonged, Scott resolved, much to the old attorney's satisfaction, to qualify for the Scottish bar. In July, 1792, he assumed the gown ; but as he had already a collec- tion of curious old books, rare coins, Highland clay- mores, with all sorts of antiquities within his reach, and was, in less than three months after being called to the bar, exploring the Border dales in search of ballads, it is almost impossible to think that his heart f^ould ever have been earnestly in his professional pursuits. At all events, it is certain that if he made efibrts, they were not, in the highest degree, success- ful. However, he was appointed Sherff of Selkirk- 24 POETS. shire, an office which appears to have been particu- larly acceptable, and brought him to the places noted as the scenes of contests on which his works have conferred an enduring fame. His literary pro- ductions, up to this time, had failed to attract that attention which they deserved ; but the time was fast approaching when his genms was to burst forth in all its brightness. In 1802 he gave to the world the Border Ballads, which at once excited public interest, and gave him a standing as a man of letters. Cir- cumstances led him to write "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," Avhich, in 1805, placed him in the first rank of original poets, as it well might. Three years after came " Marmion," followed by " The Lady of the Lake." Then, a new luminary arising to attract all eyes, Scott struck into another path. The suc- cess of " Waverley" vindicated his prescience, and encouraged him to go on. He poured the vast and hoarded treasures of his great mind and his glowing imagination into the heart of Christendom. Deeply attached, as he undoubtedly was, to his native soil, it was not on it alone that ho accomplished his splendid triumphs. In treating of England and France he was equally successful, and a wondering world beheld a true })icture of the ancient warriors, and manners and customs of the East held up to their view. In 1820 Scott was created a baronet. Immense and unprecedented sums were produced by his writ ings, and up to 1825 no prosperity was like hia. BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 25 Then came reverses, which gave the world a knowl- adge of the authorship of the magical works they had been perusing, and himself an opportunity of proving all the ardor of his heroic soul, and the repources of his great genius. Throughout life lie was actuated by a strong sense of duty ; and never was it more resolutely exhibited than in his days of darkness. He was also animated by another feeling, scarcely less powerful with him — a sympathy M'ith the past, so peculiar that few can understand it, and which many have not hesitated to condemn. People will, of course, look upon such matters with very different eyes; but though it may appear strange that a man of supreme intellect, at a time " when princes bowed to his name, and nations thrilled at it," should have felt excessive pride in his remote ances- tors having driven the beeves of the English side, and pathetically lamented the impossibility of transporting haystacks over the Border, or iii his immediate pro- genitors having ridden tall, bony steeds, and coursed with lean grayhounds ; the fact really is, that it was Scott's feeling on this point, above all others, which, gradually extending to the whole society of past ages. Drought forth his most famous works, raised his "romance in stone and lime," made him the friend and favorite of the people among whom he dwelt, prevented him from being unduly elat;!d by the applause of the " great vulgar," and was the causa of his leaving- a name which is seldom uttered Avith- 26 POETS. out aLmiration and respect. And those who speak of his pride as a weakness ought well to consider wheth er in reality it was not his strength ; whether, if it had not existed, they would ever have reveled in those fail fields of old romance which he has thrown open to all future generations. He died at Abbotsford on the 21st of September, 1832, and was buried in Dryburgh Abbey, a fitting resting-place for the mortal remains of " the last and greatest of the Border Minstrels." BOYHOOD OF POPE. Among the names which are linked with the lan- guage, and throw a lustre over the literature, of England, that of Pope is one of the foremost. From the nature of some of his works, he is often the first distinguished poet of his country to whom we are introduced on the threshold of life ; and many of his harmonious passages frequently charm and soothe us ill the last years of our existence. In his own day, rival parties in the state strove to do him honor, and be enjoyed the friendship of the greatest and most celebrated men of whom the land boasted ; in ours, ♦ ho most brilliant of his successors has bestowed upon him the warmest admiration and the highest praise. The social position of Pope's parents is a subject wliich has been vailed in a strange mystery. Accord- ing to his own authority, " of gentle blood each parent BOYHOOD OF POPE. «7 Bprung," his father being of a gentlemaii'B family in Oxfordshire, of which the Earl of Downe was the head ; and his mother a daughter of Mr. Turnor of i''ork. The former is variously stated to have followed the occupation of a mechanic, a hatter, and a farmer ; but the most probable account appears to be that of his having been a rich linen-draper in the Strand. However, the matter is, all things considered, quite unimportant, it being certain that, as the fame of the friend of St. John, and the idol of Byron, could have derived no additional splendor from the high birth, so no humility in his origin could have detracted from its radiance. His genius was a charter of nobility, surer than any that could have accompanied the blood of Tyrone ; and his own pen, sparkling with wit and satire, did for him more than aught that heralds could have acconiplished. Alexander Pope was born in London, on the 22d May, 1 G88, and to Lombard-street has been assigned the honor of being his birthplace. As an infant he was considered very beautiful ; but, from the first, was remarkable for a fragile and delicate frame, which was his misfortune to the last, and a sweet and gentle disposition, which can not certainly bo said to have endured so long. His bodily weakness continued through life, and obliged him to M'ear stays lor support, but no trace of excessive amiability ap- pears in any of his writings, no matter whether they were produced in youth or manhood. M POETS Pope, whose voice was so pleasing iii infancy that he was called, ia fondness, " the little nightingale," first learned to read in his father's house, with the assistance of an aunt, and speedily becoming a lover of hooks, learned to write by imitating print, a style of penmanship in which he ever afterward greatl) excelled. His father and mother being both Roman Catholics, he was, at eight, placed in charge of a priest, in Hampshire, who taught him the rudiments of Greek and Latin together ; and, perhaps, in seek- ing to confirm him in his rehgious views, instilled into his young mind the bitterness which afterward displayed itself with an cflect so perceptible. H3 was also initiated into poetry, by perusing translations of the Greek and Latin poets, which, probably, he even then conceived an ambitious wish to rival and outdo. Having benefited much from this priest'? instruction, and given the reverend father no small satisfaction, he was removed to a school at Twyford, near Winchester, where he complains of having lost much of his former learning. Nevertheless, he began to show that satire was his weapon, and mercilessly lampooned one of the tutors. From Twyford, he was gent to a school near Hyde Park Corner, London. While there he sometimes strolled to the theatre, where he was so captivated with the performance, that he prepared a play from Ogilby's •' Illiad," inter- fusing it with some verses of his own, and had it icted by his schoolfellows. He likewise began to BOYHOOD OF POPE. 29 study the English poets, and considering DryJen as a model to be pondered and imitated, he was soon inspired with such an admiration of his talents, that he persuaded some friend to take him to the coffee- house which Dryden frequented, in order that he might see the wonderful man with his own eyes. Who can doubt the effects produced by the sight of so eminent a poet on the boy who " lisped in num- bers?" In fact, they soon showed themselves in the course he pursued. While Pope was at school, his father having real- ized a fortune of £20,000, retired from business, to enjoy dignified leisure for the rest of his days at Binficld, in Windsor Forest, whither the youthful poet, who had already gazed rapturously at Dryden, was summoned, at the age of twelve, to be placed, 'n\ so far as education was concerned, under another Romish priest. With him Pope achieved so very little progress that, with the view of making himself such a poet as Nature had intended him to be, he struck out for himself a plan of study, to which he resolutely adhered, and with what success his works furnish the most conclusive proof His father for- tunately concurred in the aim and object, proposed Bubjects, and albeit knowing, according to the descrip- tion of the poet — " No schoolman'a suLlie art, No language, but the language of the hej,rt," is reported to have criticised the productions, and had JO POETS them corrected to his satisfaction Thus Pope's time was wholly spent in reading and writing. His " Ode on Solitude" had already been composed, and at fourteen he made a translation of the first book of the " Thebais," which, being afterward published, proved its author to possess no slight knowledge of the Latin tongue. Tempted by the success of Dryden's" Fables," then not long given to the world, he tried his skill in putting portions of Chaucer into modern English At fourteen he wrote his poem on " Silence," in im- itation of Rochester's "Nothing," and exhibited one of those singular instances of a young man having considerable knowledge of men and afl'airs, without having had any commerce with the world. Anxious, however, to confirm and extend his information, ho, next year, went for a time to London, where he learned French and Italian, and no doubt added much to his experience of persons and things. Re- turning to Binfield, he devoted himself to poetry, tried all styles, succeeded to his heart's content, and came to think himself, " the greatest genius that ever was." Though not far wrong in his estimate, the verses that liad led him to form it were con- demned by his maturer judgment, and destroyed ; yet, perhaps, they deserved a better fate. His read- ing hitherto had been extensive and varied, but it is to be regretted that no account of his favorite authorg has been handed down to posterity. At the age of sixteen. Pope had the good fortune BOYHOOD OF POl'K. 3\ to be introduced to, and appreciated by Sir William Trumbull, who had been embassador at Constanti- nople. The veteran statesman retired from the carea and toils of public life to reside near Binfield, and Pope's conversation so pleased him, that their ac- quaintance ripened into intimacy and friendship. Doubtless from him the young poet learned much that he could hardly have acquired from an inter- course with the ordinary inhabitants of "Windsor Forest, and was sufficiently acute and sagacious to perceive and comprehend the advantage of familiar intercourse and frank communication with a man of long experience and considerable distinction. Being now fairly launched on the sea of letters, Pope wrote his "Pastorals." They were not pub- lished till five years after, but shown to the poets and critics, and highly applauded. Before they were given to the world their author had learned to speak of critics with contempt. At seventeen he had formed the acquaintance, felt proud of the confidence, and incurred the wrath of Wycherly. Engaging in a hand-to-hand contest with the aged scribbler, he signally defeated him. Pope, however, always re- garded Wycherly Avith feelings of kindness, and paid him a visit shortly before his death. x\nother of his early friends, Mr. Cromwell, was in the habit of sending attempts in prose and rhyme for Pope's perusal, and the latter was by no means sparing of such remarks as were unwelcome. Their corre- 52 POETS. gyjndence, which firtt taught the world Pope's epis. tolary powers, was afterward sold to Curl, the book- seller, and inserted in a volume of his " Miscellanies." Having declared himself a poet, Pope frequented Will's Coffee-house, where Dryden had formerly pre- sided, and where the wits were still in the habit of assembling. " During this period of his life," says Dr. Johnson, " he was indefatigably diligent and insatiably curious ; wanting health for violent, and money for expensive pleasures, and having excited within himself very strong desires of intellectual eminence, he spent much of his time over his books ; but he read only to store his mind with facts and images, seizing all that his authors presented with undistinguishing voracity, and with an appetite for knowledge too eager to be nice. In a mind like his, however, all the faculties were at once involuntarily improving. Judgment is forced upon us by experience. He that reads many books must compare one opinion and one stylo with another ; and when he compares, must dis- tinguish, reject, and prefer. But the account given by himself of his studies was, that from fourteen to twenty he read only for amusement ; from twenty to twenty-seven, for improvement and instruction ; that in the first part of this time he desired only to know, and in the second he endeavored to judge." He was ambitious of excelling in painting as well as poetry, and with this view took lessons in the art. BOYHOOD OF POPE. M A picture of Betterton, drawn by him., afterward passed into the possession of his illustrious friend Lord Mansfield ; but his near-sightedness was so eflectual t bar to the achievement of any thing like success, that he applied himself with renewed vigor to his true calling, and had the " Pastorals" printed. In 1709 Pope, then in his twenty-first year, wrote the "Essay on Criticism," "which," says Dr. John- son, " displays such extent of comprehension, such nicety of distinction, such acquaintance with man- kind, and such knowledge both of ancient and modern learning, as are not often attained by the maturest age and the longest experience." It was published two years latei, and being warmly praised by Addison in the " Spectator," brought upon its young author the thunder of the grumbling Den- nis ; but Pope was now twenty-three, and removed by his fame far above the reach of such assailants One after one his works issued from the press, pre- senting every variety of style, " from grave to gay, from lively to severe." Success did not diminish his diligence, which, on the contrary, was doubled there- by, and plainly written in his laborious translationa of Homer's " Iliad" and " Odyssey." The persever- ance he displayed in his studies, the determination he showed to arrive at literary eminence, and the labor which, in spite of bodily infirmity, he under- went for that purpose, are subjects which should occupy the attention and quicken the spirit of tho c J4 POETS. youlh who f*ecls the promptings of genius and the desire of distinction. Doubtless his faults, which perhaps arose in some measure from his bodily sufierings, were great ; and his religious character lies under grave charges. But let those who strive to emulate his resolution, energy, and industry, learn amiability and Christian charity from others. Let them — " Turn o'er the leaf and cliuse another tale ; For they shall find enough Of storial thmg that touchetli gentilesse, And eke morality and holiness." As has been stated. Pope's personal debility had during his whole life, been great and grievous. To- ward its close, his struggles with disease became well-nigh intolerable. On the 30th of May, 1714, after the last consolations of his church, and amid the tears of England's most gifted peer, he died at Twickenham, and was laid at rest by the side of his father. A monument was erected to his memory ; but his truest memorial is to be found in those works which have commanded the heartfelt admiration of eome of the most brilliant of his countrymen, and which will probably last as long as t\ie literature of which they form so interesting a part. CHAPTER II i^istorians. BOYHOOD OF GIBBON. Among " the immortals of literature," Gibbon oe« cupies a very high and conspicuous position ; and hia fame rests on such a basis, that it must endure as long as the noble language in which his mighty work is written. It is interesting to know that, in early youth, his genius was engaged in the contemplation of that great subject on which its finest energies were exerted almost to the last years of his life, and which is now indissolubly associated with his name. The ancestors of this illustrious man were among " the gallant squires of Kent" as early as the four- teenth century ; and one of them was king's archi- tect about that period ; but the great historian be longed to a younger branch of the family, the mem- bers of which had been so successful as merchants in the city of London, that his grandfather had mora than a hundred thousand pounds to lose as a director of the South Sea Company. However, he subse- 56 HISTORIANS. quently contrived, by commercial gains, to retrieve his losses in that calamitous enterprise, and was thus enabled to leave a handsome fortune to his son, who sat in Parliament as member for Southampton, and married the daughter of a London merchant v/ho resided at Putney. At that village Edward Gibbon was born, on the 27th of April, 1737. His infancy Avas so exceeding- ly delicate, that he was with difficulty kept alive in those years when the existence of the most vigorous hangs by so slender a thread. Indeed, it seems to have only been by the gentle and incessant care of his maternal aunt that he weathered the storms that beset his childhood ; and he ever entertained for her that warm aflection which her tender vigilance well deserved. At the age of seven he was intrusted for instruc- tion to a poor Cumberland curate, the author of some popular works ; and two years after he was sent to a private academy at Kingston-on-Thames. At this time his mother died, and her loss was so keenly and severely felt by her husband that he left Putney, and went, for a change of scene, to his es- tates near Bcriton, in Hampshire. Subsequently he consoled himself with a second wife, a woman of amiable disposition and excellent sense, between whom and her step-son grew up a kind and steady friendship, which lasted throughout the life of the latter. Soon after his surviving parent's removal to BOYHOOD OF GIBBON. 37 llampshire, his maternal grandfather became Lank* rupt, and his aunt was compelled to keep a boarding- house at Westminster School, whither she carried her nephew, who tells us that, in the course of two years, he " painfully ascended to the third form." But his aunt, who possessed considerable infoi-mation, taste, and judgment, took great pains to direct him to proper books ; and though his appetite was at first a little indiscriminate, he soon began to show unmis- takably the bent of his mind, by the peculiar ardor with which he read and studied books of history. He perused eagerly the " Universal History," as it is- sued in volumes from the press, and was fond of lux- uriating in the " Arabian Nights," which formed one of the chief topics of the conversation he held with Mr. Fox, when that eminent man visited him at Lausanne, forty years after. But his health was still so precarious, that it was found necessary to re- move him to Bath, for change of air, and the benefit of the waters. In 175], happening to be taken by his father to visit a gentleman in Wiltshire, he found in the library a continuation of Echard's " Roman History," which at once attracted his attention. On returning to Bath, he procured Howell's "History of the World," and studied the Byzantine period with rapt attention and a glowing spirit ; with enthusias- tic zeal and heroic determination. Having passed some time at Winchester, he showed, in his fifteenth year, signs of being more robust in health, and waa 215123 38 HISTORIANS. placed at Esher, in Surrey, under the father of Si; Phihp Francis, better known as the translator of " Horace." Ere long, however. Gibbon's relations discovered that the teacher did not by any meana perform his duty toward his pupil ; and the embryo historian, being removed to Oxford in 1702, was en- tered as a gentleman commoner at Magdalen Col- lege, taking with him, according to his own account, a stock of erudition that might have puzzled a doc- tor, and a degree of ignorance which a school -boy would have been ashamed of. His fourteen months' residence at Oxford he describes as the most unprofit- able of his whole life. He read four plays of Terence, and during the first vacation made an attempt at literary composition, in an essay on the age of Socrates, afterward given to the flames. But however small the progress of his studies, he was not without a certain unenviable kind of distinction for the irregular and expensive habits into which he had fallen. His departure from Oxford was hastened by his conversion to the Romish faith, in consequence of which he was sent by his father to Lausanne, and placed under a pious Calvinist minister, who was eucccssful in convincing him that the conclusion at which he had arrived was erroneous. During the next five years Gibbon's studies were guided by this man with so much judgment, that he completely made up for lost time. He also entered into corre- spondence with several distinguished literary men BOYHOOD OF GIBBON. 35 on subjects relating to classical learning, and was admitted to the society of Voltaire, when he heard that renowned but erring man recite his own verse. Moreover, he exercised himself diligently in the art of composition, by translating and re-translating Latin, English, and French; the chief part of his time being devoled to the examination and study of the great Latin authors. Never, perhaps, was more la- borious exertion made by any man to quahfy him- self for a literary career of the higher order. He now formed a friendship with Deyverdun, with whom he was afterward associated in the publication of the " Memoires Litteraires de la Grande Bre- tagne." But feelings more tender, and not seldom more lasting, even than those of friendship now took possession of and enthralled him. It appears to be the fate of almost every great man to be afflicted, during the romance of boyhood, with emotions of love for some fair specimen of the gentler sex ; and Gib- bon did not escape the general doom. The heroine was, in the highest degree, worthy of the flame she inspired ; her personal attractions were equaled and set off by the talents and virtues with which she was gifted. She had received from her father, the pastor of an obscure, solitary, sequestered village, a liberal and learned education. Her proficiency surpassed all the expectations of her parents ; and, during a short visit to some relations at Lausanne, her wit, beauty, learning, and accomplishments, were the subject of iO HISTORIANS. conversation and applause. " The report," saya Gibbon, in his autobiography, " awakened my curi- osity. I saw and loved. I spent some happy daya at Grassy, in the mountains of Burgundy. She list- ened to the voice of truth and passion, and her pa- rents honorably encouraged the attachment. But, on my return to England, I found my father would not hear of this strange connection ; without his con- sent, I M-as myself destitute and helpless. After a painful struggle, I yielded to my fate ; I sighed as a lover, but obeyed as a son." They were destined to meet again, however, and under very diflerent circumstances. The charming and erudite young lady's father died, and, with him, the stipend that had maintained his frugal house- hold ; and she, retiring to Geneva, supported herself and her mother by teaching, without in any respect descending from the simple dignity that had charac- terized her. But she was not fated to remain in ob- Bcurity. Her high qualities were discerned by a man who afterward, with her assistance, rose to one of the most exalted positions in Europe. A native of Geneva, he had, against his own inclination, which prompted him to the study of politics and philosophy, settled in Paris as a banker's clerk ; and, by his abilities and assiduity, raised himself to wealth and distinction in the commercial commmunity. As a rich banker of Paris he wooed and Avon the enchant- ing damsel lie soon after became the first minister BOYHOOD OF GIBBON 41 of France ; and, when Gibbon next visited the daughter of the humble mountain pastor, he was the briUiant historian of the " Roman Empire ;" she, the Madame Necker of history, and the centre of that glittering circle on which the philosophers, and men of letters, and wealthy bankers, of Paris, match- ed their talents, knowledge, and riches against the high pride, the haughty prejudices, and the heredi- tary associations of the old, high-spirited, exclusive nobility of France. On returning to England, Gibbon devoted him- self to studious reading, to the collection of a library, and to the writing of an essay in French, "On the Study of Literature," which did not conduce much to his fame. His literary leisure was now sadly trespassed upon by his acceptance of a commission in the Hampshire Militia, which he held till the peace of 1763, when he proceeded on a visit to France and Italy. It had long been his cherished ambition to produce some great historical work ; and as he "sat musing among the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted friars were singing vespers in the temple of Jupiter, the idea of writing the decline and fall of the city first started to his mind." It was not, however, carried out in haste ; he again undertook the duties of a militia officer ; and he tells us that, though his studies were thus interrupted, " the discipline and evolutions of a modern battle gave him a clearer notion of the phalanx and the 12 HISTORIANS /egion, and the captain of Hampshire grenadiers waa not useless to the historian of the ' Reman empire.' " In 1774 he was returned to ParHamentfor Liskeard, and subsequently appointed a Lord of Trade. At length, in 177G, his first volume of the "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire" appeared, and straightway was seen "on every table, and almost on every toilet." Each succeeding volume was re- ceived with much applause, mingled with fierce and justifiable denunciations of the religious views it un- ibrtunately countenanced. His own beautiful ac- count of its completion at Lausanne, though hack- neyed by perpetual quotation, can not properly be omitted. He says — "It was on the day, or rather the night, of the 27th of June, 1787, between the hours of eleven and ■•welve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or cover- ed walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the city, the lake and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and perhaps the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy spread over my mind, by the idea that i had taken an everlasting leave of an old and agrcea ble companion, and that whatever miglit be the fu UOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH 43 tui-e fate of my history, the hfe of the author must be short and precarious." He survived for seven years to enjoy the triumph of his superb genius, and died on the 16th of Jan- uary, 1794. That Gibhon's errors in regard to rehgion — the less excusable in a man of his great intellect — cast a shade, dark and gloomy, over the brilliancy of his fame, and prevent the majority of his countrymen from fully appreciating his writings, can not be de- nied ; but, as a historian, he has left an example of great and varied excellences, extraordinary in dustry in research, fidelity in the statement of facts, and judgment in vi^eighing conflicting authorities, and all but unrivaled clearness in the narration of events. BOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. The entrance upon boyhood of Sir James Mackin- tosh was not made under circumstances favorable to the acquirement of the enormous amount of histori- cal learning by which he was distinguished ; noi was he in infancy associated with persons likely to lead his thoughts and inclinations to study and spec- ulation. On the contrary, his earUest years were passed in a remote part of the country — in glens 44 HISTORIANS. and fa&tn esses — into which the frowning' body of the Highland army had been accustomed to retire for safety after defeat — and he had not even the benefit of a father's care ; for his, who was twenty four years in the army, and served in Germany during the Seven Years' War, was always absent, and, indeed, had too little respect for learning or the learned to have afforded any particular assistance or encouragement to the pursuits of the boy, whose knowledge soon became the admiration of his native district. He was born at Aldourie, on the banks of Loch Ness, near Inverness, on the 24th of October, 17G5. His father. Captain Mackintosh, was the represent- ative of a family that had for two centuries possessed a small Highland estate. Soon after the historian's birth, the Captain joined his regiment at Antigua, and continued with it for eight or nine years ; so that his son was reared with great care and tenderness by his mother, who resided at a small house named Clune, with his grandmother, a woman of extraordi- nary mental powers and cultivated understanding, though bearing the hard sounding name of Mac- gillivray. This place, with its wide and spreading lake, sur- rounded with wooded rocks, was not unworthy of being the scene of so great a man's childhood ; and its scenery made impressions on his memory which were never effaced. The romantic path leadin? to flOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH 4a thfc cottage, the clear streamlet by which he walked, and the turf seat on which he rested, Avere, he wrote forty years after, when under an Indian sky, more frequently and fondly present to his fancy than any other scenes in nature. Besides, his mother regarded him with more than the ordinary fondness of parents , and, being an only child in a household of several women, they rivaled each other in their displays of kindness and attention to his comfort. Tn this way the first ten years of his life passed without any occurrences of consequence. In the summer of 1775 he was sent to a school at the small town of Fortrose, the master of which was a man of some ability. One of the ushers, who was boarded in the same house with Mackintosh, was suspected of holding certain opinions, which the pious and orthodox mistress of the house considered hereti- cal. The unfortunate usher was soon shipped off to die of yellow fever and Jamaica ; but the disputes to which his heresy had led produced in Mackintosh a spirit of inquiry, which directed his mind to many subjects that occupied it during life. This was very much kept alive by his visits to an ancient gentleman, Mr. Mackenzie, of Suddie, whose favorite study of genealogy had induced him gradually to interest himself in history and theology. This gentleman's studies had led him to take a particular interest in the events of the seventeenth century, in which his ancestors had played a part ; 40 HISTORIANS. and Mackintosh's attention was thus directed to tne history of a period which, at the time of his death, "he was engaged in illustrating. He likewise read booKS on theology, and forthwith hegau to argue on the subject with great boldness. He perused, with eager- ness and delight, " Plutarch's Lives," and Echard's " E-oman History ;" and was led by the latter into a habit of castle-building in the air, from which he never wholly freed himself. At firpt he used to indulge in the pleasing day-dream that he was Emperor of Constantinople ; and, as such, distributed the different offices of state among his schoolfellows, loading his favorites with rewards and honors, and letting those whom he disliked feel the weight ol' his imperial wrath. In solitude, he used to carry on a series of imaginary political events, resuming and continuing them from day to day, and, no doubt, him- .self enacting a conspicuous part in all. Indeed, from his thirteenth year he took a remarkable interest in, and exhibited a singular love of, politics. Mr. Fox and Lord North were, at that time, making against each other their memorable speeches on the Amcri can War. Mackintosh's imagination was quite cap- tivated by the report of them ; and, adopting the cry of liberty, he, notwithstanding his Jacobite origin, became a supporter of that party of which he was in after years so distinguished an ornament, both as orator and historian. Having thus chosen his side, he prevailed upon t!ie more advanced and intelligent BOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. i'l A his companions to devote the hours allotted to p]ay lo more serious matters, and to join him in a debate on the political events of the day, of which they obtained information from the columns of a provin- cial newspaper. This assembly they called the House of Commons ; and the master's desk, from 'jvhich they harangued, the Tribune. Mackintosh was ev^er the foremost and keenest in debate. One day he would appear as Burko, another as Fox, or some other leading member of the Opposition ; and when no one ventured to reply to him, he Avould, for the sake of argument, change sides ; personate Lord North, and endeavor to combat what he considered the strongest parts of his own speech. At this period, a boy of his own age, named Mackenzie, who after- ward, as a major-general, died bravely at Talavera, was his sworn friend and comrade. They often rehearsed, while wandering in the fields, what they were to deliver in the mimic senate ; and, as they completely differed on politics, were generally antag- onists. But Mackenzie, though a brave and clever boy, had no chance with the scion of Clanchattan in the battle of debate. Indeed, the oratorical exhi bitions of the latter were marvelous under the cir- cumstances, and his arguments sufficiently powerful to have done credit to many double his age. Ho particularly excelled when, in the character of Fox, he directed his eloquence against some measure of the prime minister. His voice, though weak, was inusi- 18 HISTORIANS cal ; and liis efibrts seem to have much surprised and dehghtcd any grown-up person who had llie curiosity to come and listen to them. He always went, during the vacation times, to his grandmother's house, where he found hooks enough to monopolize his attention. His father complained that he would become "a mere pedant," and sncei'ed at his partiality for books ; but Mackintosh's love for reading withstood all sneers, and he was constantly devouring the pages of some author. He frequently took his dinner with him, and remained reading all day in ono of those quiet, retired glens, from which the chief of his clan had, in other days, drawn faith< ful and formidable bands of followers. There, seated in a sequestered nook, he fed his mind with the writ- ings of Pope or Swift. Pope's " Pastorals" was the first verse he read ; and as early as 1777, he attempted a pastoral of his own, on the death of an uncle who fell in battle. In 1779, and the following year, his poetic muse was exceedingly prolific ; its highest emanation being an epic poem, "On the Defense of Cyprus," of which he had read in Pi-ollin's "Ancient History ;" a book that no doubt occupied much of his attention. He also signalized his poetic prowess by versifying a satirical representation of some of the village notables, which had been written in prose on a young lady who had formerly treated him with much kindness, and whose firm friend and ally he con- tinued throughout the war to wluch the composition BOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 49 gave rise. During the vacation one year, he put the friendship of the society of Fortrose to the proof, by writing a letter in a hand hke his uncle's, announc- ing his death, from wounds received in falling down a rock, while gathering hazel-nuts. The news of his Bupposed untimely fate excited as much mourning and as many tears as he could reasonably have de- fiired ; and he was, on the whole, rather gratified than otherwise with the result of his perilous experi- ment on the sincerity of his friends and acquaintances. In 1779 he had to part from his good and aflectionate mother, who went to England to join her husband, then in camp near Plymouth. Ere long she died at Gibraltar, where, thirty years after, he, with grateful affection, erected a monument to her memory. Death had already deprived him of his old school- master, who was succeeded in his important functions by the usher. This man, unlike his predecessor, was extremely good-natured and indulgent, and allowed Mackintosh to do what he thought fit. He trusted him to teach some of the younger boys, and permitted him to come and go, read and lounge, just as he pleased. It was then that a learned professor of Aberdeen, being on a visit to the neighborhood, met one morn- ing, near Fortrose, a little boy, whose appearance and conversation very much interested and astonished him. On mentioning the circumstance, and the name of his newly-made acquaintance, to the gentle- man at whose house he was staying, his host said, D 60 HISTORIANS. " Every body knows that boy — that Jamie Mackin- tosh ;" for by this familiar name the future historian was already widely known as a prodigy of learning All his feelings, and the manner in which he ex- pressed them, were considered remarkable ; and an aged lady, near his grandmother's, described him as "a spontaneous child." He spent some part of hia vacations with an old, and somewhat eccentric uncle, who, from fear of being burnt in his house, only al- lowed a small bit of candle for his guest to go to bed with ; but Mackintosh managed, by bribing the housekeeper, to obtain a whole one, wherewith to indulge in solitary study during the long and silent night. In 1780 he went to college at Aberdeen, where; having brought with him a collection of his verses, he was soon known as " the poet" — an appellation which he seems to have been anxious afterward to shake off. That winter he commenced the study of such books as Warburton's " Divine Legation," which, he says, were very much out of the course of boys any where, and especially at Aberdeen. It appears, however, to have alibrdcd him a pleasure of no ordinary kind, and to have had a considerable c'flect on his mode of thinking. On arriving in Aberdeen, he had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of the celebrated Pvobert Hall, whose abilities and conversation exercised r great influence on his mind ; and with whom, a BOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 55 tJiey lived in the same house, and were both dispu- tatious, he had perpetual controversies. These led to their forming a little debating society, where Mackintosh and Hall were generally pitted against each other, and far outshone all their contemporaries. In 1782 he fell violently in love with a young iady, whom he wooed in prose and rhyme till the name was mutual. For four years this subject con- tinued to form his chief thoughts, but his ardor cooled when, in 1784, he went to Edinburgh, to enter upon the study of medicine. In his case, at least, it could not be said that " absence made the heart grow fonder," but perhaps the head grew wiser. When he had gone through the enjoined course of medical study he obtained his diploma, and repaired to London in the spring of 1788 ; but the period was one of fierce political excitement ; and after contem- plating an appointment in Hussia, and providing himself with a wife, he resolved to abandon his pro- fession. He began to write for the press, and in 1791 published his " Vindicias Gallicse," in reply to Mr. Burke's " Reflections on the French Revolution," which at once proved his abilities, and caused his merits to be acknowledged. Having been called to the bar, he, in 1803, made his brilliant speech in deiense of M. Peltier, an emigrant royalist of France, who had been indicted for a libel on Napoleon, then First Consul. Mackintosh was immediately after- Ward appointed Recorder of Bombay. In the be- 52 HISTORIANS. ginning of next year, after being knighted, he sailed for India, where for seven years he ably and faith- fully discharged the duties of his office. On return ing, he entered the House of Commons. In 1830, having previously made several contributions to the " Edinburgh Review," he produced a popular " His- tory of England" for the " Cabinet Cyclopaedia," for which he had already written a " Life of Sir Thomas More" and the " History of Ethical Philosophy." He was engaged in his great work, the " History of the Revolution of 1GS8," when he breathed his last, somewhat suddenly, on the 30th of May, 1832. In another week he was buried at the parish church of Hampstead. His " History of the English Revolu- tion" was subsequently published, but, owing to its unfinished state, it is but an imperfect monument of the genius of its gifted and accomplished author. CHAPTER III Critics. BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHNSON. Johnson's boyhood and youth were passed amid severe struggles and hardships not easily endured, but, by the exercise of the great talents with which he was gifted, he secured comfort and ease in his declining years. He occupies a distinguished place among Englishmen of letters, and has been called " the brightest ornament of the eighteenth century," ■which may be thought too high praise ; but it is not too much to say of him as a critic, that during his life his influence among his countrymen was su- preme, and that since his death, they have regarded his name with pride and respect. His face and figure, with all their peculiarities, are stamped on the memories of intelligent men, his recorded table- talk afTords them amusement, and his works are perused with profit and pleasure. The boyhood of so "roat a man can not surely be without its lesson. He was born at Lichfield, on the 18th of Sep- 54 CRITICS. tember, 1709. His father was Michael Johnson, a native of Derbyshire, of humble birth, who had settled there as a bookseller; and his mother be- longed to a family of substantial yeomanry, which had for ages been planted in the county of Wor- cester. Both parents were above the common stamp, and the influence of their characteristics can be dis- tinctly traced in their son's career. The father was a pretty fair Latin scholar, and so respectable a citizen as to be made one of the magistrates of the town, though never in prosperous circumstances. He was a zealous high Churchman and Jacobite, so that the sage was cradled and nurtured in those opinions and prejudices to which he clung throughout, and expressed without any particular regard or toleration for the views and feelings of others. His mothe* was a woman of strong sense and understanding, without being very literate. She was truly pious, however, and early conveyed to her boy those devout impressions which, with the exception of a short interval, were during his life so apparent in his words and actions. She used to teach him some religious lesson, and then send him to repeat it to the man-servant, in order to have it permanently rixed in his memory ; though there was in reality jio occasion for any artificial aid for its preservation. His memory, indeed was always most tenacious, and the following instance of its early power is given by the faithful and admiring Boswell : BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHJNfcO^. 53 "When he was a child in petticoats, and had learned to read, Mrs. Johnson one morning put the Common Prayer-Book into his hands, pointing to the Collect for the day, and said, 'Sam, you must get this by heart.' She went up-stairs, leaving him to study it, but by the time she had reached the second floor she heard him following her. ' What's the matter?' said she. 'I can say it!' he replied, and repeated it distinctly, though he could not have read it more than twice." When he was not quite three years old, Dr, Sacheverell visited Lichfield. Johnson insisted on being taken to hear him, and, perched on his father's shoulders, gazed with rapture at the well-known preacher. Being sorely afflicted with the king's evil, which disfigured a countenance said to have been originally pleasing, and deprived him of the use of one eye, Johnson \va?, in accordance with a superstition of the age, carried to London by his mother to be touch- ed by the Queen. Though the touch was without efliict, he seems to have been extremely proud of it. "He had," he said, when asked if he remembered Queen Anne, " a confused, but somehow a solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds and a long black hood." He received his first instruction in English at a dame's school in his native town. One day the serv- ant, who usually came to take him home, being be- 66 CRITICS. hind time, he set off alone, notwithstanding his near- sightedness, which obliged him to stoop down, and take a view of the street gutter before venturing to cross it. The good dame, fearing that he might be run over, or that some other accident might befall him by the way, followed at a little distance, till perceived by her youthful pupil, who manifested " that jealous independence of spirit and impetuosity of tem- per which never forsook him," by a not very becoming attempt to beat her. Having next passed through the hands of an Eu glish teacher, whom he used familiarly to talk of as Tom Brown, he began Latin, in 1719, with the under-master of Lichfield School, described by him as " very skillful in his little way." Two years later he came under the care of the head-master, whom he accused of any thing rather than sparing the rod. However, Johnson profited largely by his instruc- tion, and confessed that he should never have acquired his accurate knowledge of Latin but for having been well whipped. In fact, he was ever strongly of opinion that a little flogging was quite necessary for a boy's improvement ; but he was hardly ever cor- rected at school himself, except for talking and divert- ing other boys from their lessons. Doubtless, he was by nature, indolent, but not so much so as ambitious to excel ; and the latter feeling roused him to those eflbrts which laid the foundation of his fame. Ha was almost disqualified by his defective sight from BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHNSON. 57 joining in the ordinary diversions of the school, Wt much given to reading. Fi-oinances, indeed, formed the chief part «f it, and he retained his attachment to them tliroughout life. Pie often regretted his devo- tion tc them, attributing to it a restless turn of mind which prevented him from settling to any regular profession ; but, considering the height to which in spite of all obstacles, he worked his way, it is impos- sible not to rejoice that he should so have spent a portion of his time. It was probably for the purpose of indulging in the day-dreams created by them that he loved to saunter away the vacation hours, accom- panied by a friend, but talking generally to himself. His memory was marvelous in its powers, and grasp- ed any thing presented to it with a tenacity little less than miraculous. One of his schoolfellows in after-life related that, on one occasion, having re- eited to him eighteen verses, he repeated them after a pause with a single variation, which was, in real- ity, an improvement. Thus, whatever he read was added to his knowledge ; and the effect was soon vis- ible in the influence he possessed with his compan- ions, who, especially his favorites, found the value ot his assistance, and were in the habit of requiting it by carrying him to school in the morning. He sat on the back of one, while two others supported him on each side. In frosty weather he had a. strange fancy for being drawn along the ice by a barefooted boy. This was done by means cf a c-jrd fastened 58 CRITICS. round his body, which even then was so heavy as to render the duty somewhat severe. After leaving- Lichfield School, and residing some lime in the house of his maternal uncle, a request was made by his father to have him received as a scholar and assistant at Newport school, in Shrop- ghire. This Avas not acceded to, though the head- master afterward boasted that he was nearly having so great a man for his pupil. On this scheme failing, he was sent to the .school at Stourbridge, in Worces- tershire, without receiving so much benefit as was expected, owing to his not being on the best of terms with the master. At this place he remained two years, assisting to teach the younger boys, and then returned home, where he spent his time in reading, without any regular plan of study. He was scolded by his father for idleness, but in reality was roaming at large in classic realms, and storing his huge mind from the works of tlie ancient authors. At length it was determined that he should go to Oxford, in October, 1728, a gentleman of Shropshire promising aid in regard to the expense, which his father had not the means of defraying. On the eve of departure his old school-mistress came to bid him farewell, bringing a present of ginger-bread, which, no doubt, he accepted in the same spirit in which it was ofllred, and paying him a compliment, whicii he ever after held in grateful remembrance. Slie said he was the best scholar she had ever liad ; and Johnson, BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHNSON. 59 who lield the boy to be the man in miniature, valued the praise at a very high rate. He was entered a commoner of Pembroke College on the 31st of October, his father accompanying him to Oxford, and being at great pains to have him in- troduced to the person who was to be his tutor. Old Johnson showed no small pride in his son's attain- ments, and with natural vanity boasted to the com- pany present, on the evening of his arrival, of his wondrous learning. The young sage's appearance struck them as odd. He sat silent till an opportunity occurred for a quotation, when he struck in, and gave some idea of that extensive reading in which he had indulged when upbraided by his father for waste of time. Johnson never considered that he owed much to his tutor's instruction, which, perhaps, he did not sufficiently exert himself to profit by. Having wait- ed on him the first day, he staid away the next four. On the sixth, being asked why he had not attended, he gave as an excuse that he had been sliding in Christ-Church Meadow. He was not aware at the time, as he afterward declared, that he had said any thing disrespectful to his tutor, for whose personal character he ever expressed great esteem. The Fifth of November was at that time, kept with great pomp and solemnity at Fsmbroke College, and the students were required to write something on the gunpowder plot. This Johnson neglected to 60 CRITICS, do, producing, by way of apology, some verses, which so pleased the tutor, that their author was requested to translate Pope's "Messiah" into Latin verse as a Christmas exercise. He had, at school, given proofs of his poetic talent ; he had also, while at Lichfield, written an epilogue for some young ladies who had proposed to act " The Distressed Mother," and lie now set himself to the appointed task. The result was cheering. His rapidity and success gained him immense applause, and served much to raise him iu the opinion of his College and the University. While staying at Lichfield, during the vacation of 1729, he felt himself all but overpowered with that peculiar melancholy which haunted him to his last days, and made vigorous eflbrts to shake it off by long walks and other expedients. But as they proved of no avail, he put into the hands of a medical man a statement of his case, written in Latin. The phy- sician was struck with its research and eloquence, and could not refrain from showing it to his friends, which so offended Johnson that he never fully forgave what he regarded as the betrayal of confidence. From his ninth year he had been somewhat lax in so far as religion was concerned ; but at Oxford he began to consider the matter seriously, and over after was most exemplary in the fulfillment of his duties. At College his chief reading was Greek, and meta- physics his favorite study. He had a peculiar fac- ulty of extracting the substantial and valuable por- BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHNSON. 61 tion of any book, without the labor of perusing it from beginning to end, which was all but necessary to a person of his irritable and impatient disposition acquir- ing so immense a fund of information as that which he ultimately possessed and made use of. His poverty at this period became extreme ; and it is related that, being in the habit of going to Christ Church to obtain from a friend the substance of some lectures then being delivered, his shoes were observed to be so much worn, that his feet appeared through them. Perceiving that this was noticed, he ceased from coming ; and some of his well-wishers, having placed a new pair at his door, he manifested his proud independence of spirit by indignantly throwing them away. He felt that he was gifted in no ordinary degree, and hoped to fight his way by his literary abilities and learning. This consideration sustained him in all the privations which he endured at Oxford, but it could not supply the funds to maintain him there ; and the gentleman to whose promises he had trusted having failed to make them good, he was com- pelled, in the autumn of 1731, from want of means, to cut short his career, to leave the University with- out a degree, and to return to his native place, with hardly any prospect of making even a decent liveli- hood. In the December of the same year his father died insolvent, and Johnson's gloom deepened into something like despair. Under these circumstances he accepted a situation as usher in a school at Mar- 62 CRITICS. ket Bosworth, which he retained only I'or a fev» months, experiencing great misery all the time. H« then went on a visit to an old schoolfellow and towns- man, who had settled as a surgeon at Birmingham While there, he made the acquaintance of Mr Warren, for whom he wrote his first prose work, an abridgement and translation of Lobo's " Voyage to Abyssinia," which was published in London. He likewise became acquainted with Mr. Porter, whose widow he married in 1736, when he opened a private academy at Lichfield, which proved an unsuccessful undertaking. In 1737, he removed to London, and at first wrote chiefly for the " Gentleman's Maga- zine." His great works soon began to appear and arrest public attention. In time his name became famous, and it was his happiness always to improve as an author as he advanced in years. His fame as a critic rests on his " Lives of the Poets"' which, as he himself stated, should not be considered " as lives, but critical prefaces." His power is most conspicu- ously displayed in those of Cowley, Dryden, Addison, and Pope. ' In 17G2 his Majesty settled on him a pension , the degree of LL.D. was bestowed on him by Trinitj College, Dublin ; and the same distinction was after- ward conferred by his own University. He died on the 13th of December, 1784, in his seventy-fifth year, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Johnson arrived in London at a timo when th BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHNSON. b4 condition of men of letters was at the very worst, and when he was obliged to endure every species of humil' iation. The authors with whom he then mixed lived in a state of the utmost wretchedness. It is no small praise of him to say, that in the midst of poverty and despair he struggled on manfully, and appeared as the leader of another and more fortunate generation, by whom he was treated with the utmost respect Moreover, he reached eminence not by any crooked paths, not by pandering to an impure public taste, but by intellect and abilities, which enabled him to subdue adverse fortune and bodily infirmity, to intro- duce a healthier and more moral tone into the litera- ture of liis day, and to leave a memorable example to succeeding aspirants to distinction in those fields wherein he displayed all the force of his great mind, and achieved his splendid triumphs. BOYHOOD OF LORD JEFFREY. The very distinguished critic, Francis Jeflrey, was first introduced to the world, in which he was to enact so conspicuous and influential a part, on the 23d of October, 1773. His birthplace was Edin- burgh where his father, who had been educated to the law, held one of the deputy-clerkships in the Court of Session, in •which the son was destined to preside as a judge. 64 CRITICS. The interesting story of the latter having been in extreme peril of falling a victim to a fire that broke out in his father's house when he was quite an infant, and of his having owed his safety from the flames to a slater, whose timely service he afterward re- quited, in the hour of need, by gratuitous and suc- cessful professional exertions, turns out to be without foundation in fact. Having, by the usual process, learned his alphabet at home, Jefirey was sent to a private school ; and though a " little tiny boy," Avas remarked for his intelligent vigor, even before he had dolled the petticoats. When eight years old he was placed at the Hisjh School of the nothern capital — the most celebrated and time-honored institution of the kind in his native country — where the old and somewhat wholesome sys- tem of flagellation seems to have been carried out to such an extent, as his learned biographer thinks tlie criminal law would not now tolerate. There, for four years, he continued learning Latin ; and was noticed as a little, anxious, clever boy, who always stood near the top of the class, and never lost a place with- out a becoming display of feeling. At the end of that time he was passed on to the rector's class, con- sisting of more than an hundred boys, and remained there for two years more ; though without perform- ing any of those miracles which not unfrequently mark the boyhood of brightening genius. However, the master was one who delighted to detect and BOYHOOD OF ^.C^-r) -TFFFREY. C5 encourage youthful talent ; and Jeffrey, throughout life, held him in grateful remembrance. Though reading was not, at that date, a very favorite amuse- ment among the hoys, Jeffrey, besides some books of travel and natural history, diligently perused Hume's '• History of England," and Middleton's " Life of Cicero," — no doubt with great benefit. When he was in his thirteenth year his mother, a woman of maternal excellence, and much beloved by her children, died while her son was on a visit to some friends, about seventeen miles from Edinburgh. The news of her dangerous illness reached the family in which he was staying too late to admit of his being conveyed home the same night, and it was, therefore, deemed prudent to conceal the sad intelligence from him till next day ; but, having suspected it from some cause, he set off in the morning before day- break, and walked all the way. Shortly after this mournful event, which cast a deep gloom over their circle, he had one day the ad- vantage, which his countrymen prize so highly, of looking with his young eyes on that rustic bard of VI horn Scotland is, and may well be proud. While Btanding in the High Street, staring at a man whose appearance struck him as uncommon, a passer-by tapped him on the shoulder, and exclaimed with enthusiasm, " Ay, laddie I ye may weel look at that man. That's the poet Burns I" Jeffrey never had a second opportunity ; but, ere long, he had an adven- 60 CRITICS. ture with a scarcely less celebrated personage. This was the biographer of Johnson, whom he had the memorable distinction of assisting to carry to bed in a condition which may be more decorously imagined than described. Next morning he was rewarded by the renowned individual — who had, meantime, been informed of the service — clapping him patronizingly on the head, complimenting him on being a very promising lad, and adding, by way of incitement, " If you go on as you've begun, you may live to be a Bozzy yourself yet I" In the beginning of the year 1787 Jeffrey was sent to the College at Glasgow, which was preferred to the other northern seats of learning on account of the Oxford exhibitions. He remained there for two sessions, displaying, according to a fellow-student, a degree of quickness which some were inclined to call by a harsher name, and cultivating a very black, unseasonable mustache, which covered the whole of his upper lip, and exposed him to the laughter and raillery of his companions. Notwithstanding this harmless vanity, he was by no means deficient in the spirit of defiance, as he proved by his strong opposi- tion to the election of the apostle of political economy, Adam Smith, as Lord Rector of the University, which depended on the votes of the professors and students. People were, in no small degree, surprised to see a dark-visaged lad in that peculiar state of ex- citement which is so apt to make us mistake friends BOYHOOD OF LORD JEFFREY. 61 for foes, eloquently haranguing some boys ou the green against the impropriety of voting for the learned author of the " Wealth of Nations," In the next session, however, he exhibited his characteristics in a much more brilliant and satis- factory manner. In a debating society he won honor as one of the most successful speakers — criticism and metaphysics being the principal suhjects ou which his eloquence expatiated. Moreover, one of the profess- ors, being in the habit of making each of his pupils write an essay, and then delivering it into the hands of another to be criticised, gave Jeffrey an opportu- nity of first exercising those remarkable powers, in after years so terrible to many a hapless adventurer in the fields of literature. On this occasion his remarks were of so merciless a nature, that the pro- fessor, in returning the essay to its author, charitably muttered something deprecatory of the ruthless sever- ity that had been made use of This year he made a most creditable figure in the logic class, and was considered the ablest student it contained. A party of the students, anxious for their improvement in recitation, formed themselves into an elocution club, which met every Monday evening. They even aspired to a dramatic performance, fixed upon a play, and selected an apartment within the College as a fitting theatre ; but the authorities interfered, and put a stop to the scheme, and thus raised the bitter ire of Jeffrey, who, in the last page of his "Notes 08 CRITICS on Lectures," denounced their conduct, in taking such a step, as " the meanest, most ilHberal, and des picable I" From this period he exercised not only extra- ordinary diligence, but systematic regularity, in pur suing his studies and cultivating his literary powers accompanying all his labors with composition in- tended not for display, but with a view to that self-culture so necessary even to men endowed with the highest natural abilities. This laudable prac- tice, which was adhered to almost daily, is attested by the multifarious mass of papers on every kind of subject, which are still preserved, consisting of notes of lectures, translations, speeches, tales, and poems ; nearly all the prose productions being of a critical character, and, as if by way of preparation for his subsequent high position, terminating with a sharp and acute criticism on their own defects. It was by such means that he corrected his errors and blem ishcs of style, and brought to maturity that peculiar acumen afterward so forcibly displayed in the pages of the "Edinburgh lleview." Of his papers written at Glasgow, only four re- main in existence ; but they are stated to be won derful performances for a youth of his age. It may uot be out of place to mention that he was subject to what he considered feelings of superstitious fear, to cure himself of which he u.sed to walk at the mystic hour of midnight round the grave-yard of BUVHOOD OF LORD JEFFREY. Pa the ancient and venerable cathedral, familiarized by the genius of Scott to all readers of "Rob Roy." In May, 1789, he returned to Edinburgh, whose localities, for the next two years, he only exchanged for visits to a relation in the county of Stirling, which were the occasion of much delightful enjoy- ment, and ever remembered as comprising the hap- piest days of his youth — restless with the fever of eloquence, recognizing no prospect of a vent ; and conscious of a daring intellect, which saw little hope of a career. But at what he fondly calls the "dear, retired, adored little window" of his garret in the Lawnmarket, where his father resided, he labored assiduously in silence, composed, created, and criticised according to his own desires, and prepared himself for the arrival of that brighter day, which is almost sure to come to those who are careful to fit them- selves for the duties that accompany it. In the autumn of 1791 Jeffrey was entered at Oxtbrd, his father having escorted him thither. They loitered and visited so many places of interest by the way, that it was a full fortnight before their destina- tion was reached. But the rich south, which is sup- posed to have so strong an attraction for his country men, seems to have had no charms whatever for him. Lord Mansfield and others never availed themselves of the privilege of setting foot on their native soil after they had left it ; but scarcely had Jefirey sep- arated from his father when he conceived a strong 70 CRITICS. dislike to every thing and every body about the new scene of his studies. More grateful to his tastes waa the little garret ia the Lawnmarket of his dear na- tive town than the classic regions by the Isis. Hia letters to a sister breathe nothing but discontent, loneliness, and melancholy ; and it Avas with a joy, which he was far from concealing, that he terrain- atcd his short residence in June, 1792. He M'as, it would really seem, too much of a Scotchman to rel- ish life elsewhere than in his native land ; but he was extremely ambitious to get rid of his country's lan- guage, and acquire "an English tongue." In this, the partiality of his success fully justified the remark of the late Lord Holland, that though he "had lost the broad Scotch at Oxford, he had only gained the narrow English." Jeffrey was now nineteen, and entertained serious intentions of devoting his whole talents and energies to literature — poetry being the crutch on which he chiefly relied. Even for years after he had been admitted to the Scottish bar, he meditated a re- moval to London with that view. However, in 1802, the establishment of the "Edinburgh Re- view" aflbrded him a proper stage for the display of his literary powers. He contributed no less than two hundred articles to this potent organ of jjublic opinion, and continued its editor till his election aa Dean of Faculty, in 1829 — with what tact, talent, and judgment, the influence it exorcised during BOYHOOD OK LORD JEFFREY. 71 .hat long and troubled period sufficiently prove. His labors as editor must have been gigantic, es- pecially when joined with his professional pursuits. On the accession of Earl Grey to power, in 1830, Jeffrey became Lord Advocate for Scotland, and iu 1834 was raised to the bench. He died in January, 1850, in his seventy-seventh year, and was, by his own desire, buried in the Dean Cemetry, near Edinburgh, on the 31st of that month. The history of his youthful career is extremely valuable, as showing distinctly, that study, diligence, and steady industry, are essential for qualifying men of even the highest and most unquestionable talents, lo exercise them with credit to themselves and ad- vantage to others. CHAPTER IV. Statesmen. BOYHOOD OF CANNING. This illustrious and patriotic statesman, whose rise Bhook hostile parties to their centre, and Avhose name deservedly occupies so brilliant a space in the polit- ical history of the country was born on the 11th of April, 1770, in the parish of Marylebone, where he was in due course baptized on the 9th of the follow- ing month. But though London was thus his birth- place, he was ever in the habit of considering him- self an Irishman, as appears by the letter to his friend, Sir Walter Scott, on the occasion of the great Border minstrel's visit to the Emerald Isle. His father was one of the Cannings of Garvagh, in Londonderry, where they had settled in the beginning of the seven- teenth century. This talented gentleman, having incurred the displeasure of his father, fled from his native soil ; perhaps, Teucer-like, indulging in the hope of seeing a new Garvagh arise on English ground. Fortune, however, did not favor him, ex BOYHOOD OF CANNING. 73 cept in the bestowment of a sou destined to enshrine the name in enduring splendor. Entering as a stu- dent at the Middle Temple, the exile was, in due time, called to the bar; but politics and literature seem to have had greater charms for him than law, so he sacrificed the study of "Coke on Lyttletou" to the Muses, and relished the society of Wilkes and the other mock-patriots of the day more than that of the learned array at Westminster Hall. A mar- riage that had more of romance than prudence in it. involved him in somewhat galling poverty ; and, hav- ing failed to better his circumstances by engaging in trade, for which nature had imfitted him, he experi- enced the peculiar depression resulting from repeated disappointment. The birth of his son was a fresh source of anxiety, more particularly as he had, some time before, for the sake of temporary relief from pressing debt, renounced his claims as heir-at-law to the family property, and thus deprived his child of his right to the inheritance. Preyed upon by regret and vexation, he sunk under his accumulated morti- fications, and died on the completion of one year by the infant, who was to vindicate the claims of genius to a due participation in the government of the mighty empire, whose greatness his brilliant eloquence so often celebrated. An annuity, to Avhich the clever but luckless Temp- lar had been entitled, reverting at his death to his father, the fair widow was left without the meana 74 STATESMEN. of support, and with no source of comfort but hei child. How appropriate, in her position, would have been the lines which Campbell puts into the mouth of " the mournful mother," while affection- ately watching by the couch of her slumbering in- fant!— " Sleep, image of thy father, sleep, my boy ! No llng'ring hour of sorrow shall be thine ; No sigh that rent thy father's heart and mine , Bright as his manly sire, the son shall be In form and soul ; but, ah ! more blest than he ! Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love, at last Shall soothe this aching heart for all the past — With many a smile my solitude repay, And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away !" Thus unhappily situated, Mrs. Canning, with the advice of her friends, betook herself to the stage. She made her first appearance at Drury Lane, in November, 1773, under the auspices of Garrick, and with the patronage of the Court. But, owing to in- experience, and perhaps inaptitude for the calling, she was not so successful in her histrionic efforts as had been anticipated ; and, notwithstanding her youth and beuuty, she was obliged to repair to the less fas- tidious audiences in the provinces. A marriage, into which she was soon unfortunately drawn, placed her son under the care of, and in perpetual contact with, a man of intemperate habits and disreputabl<3 character, rendering it extremely imjirobable that ho BOYHOOD OF CANNING. 75 ehould ever arrive at high distinction, or even ordi- nary respectabihty. The world is indebted to Moody the actor, a man of blunt and rough manners, but of a kind and honest heart, for one of its brightest children not having fallen a victim to unpropitious circumstances. He was struck with the boy's talents, and became strongly interested iu his welfare. Resolved to do what he could to promote it, he applied to his uncle, Mr. Stratford Canning, a London merchant, drew an alarming picture of his perilous position, declared that he was on the high-road to the gallows, dilated on the wonderful promise he displayed, and con- fidently predicted that, if properly brought forward in the world, he would one day become a great man. The step was bold, as all communication with the family had long since ceased ; but it succeeded ; for, though the uncle, with a selfishness excusable enough under the circumstances, was at first excessively un- willing to interfere, the benevolent player's persever- ance overcame all obstacles, and the wealthy trader consented, on certain conditions, to take charge of his hopeful nepheAV. The duty, thus hesitatingly undertaken, was well and faithfully fulfilled ; and a small estate in Ire- land, which, at the earnest solicitation of his grand- mother, had been set aside for the purpose, defrayed the expense of the future "great man's" education He was instructed in the rudiments of learning at ,6 STATESMEN. Hyde Abbey School, near Winchester. The master was one of those rigid discipHnarians who, in the fashion of the day, spared not the rod ; but it has been supposed that Canning's studious and regular habits saved him from the inconvenience of such a system. At all events, unlike some of the other pu- pils, he entertained throughout life a grateful sense of the advantages derived at the establishment ; and, when at the height of his power, showed his appre ciation of them by presenting his old preceptor vi'ith a prebend in Winchester Cathedral. Even at this early season of youth he possessed great skill in versification ; and when sent to Eton, at the age of twelve, was at once placed as an Oppi- dan. He immediately acquired distinction, from the ease and elegance of his Latin and English compo- sitions, and by the manliness of his habits. He never played at games like other boys, but at once assumed the sober dignity of manhood. Indeed he prosecuted his studies as if prescient of the career before him ; and endowed, as he must have felt himself to be, he was so far from placing his trust entirely in the inspirations of genius, that ho was re- markable for the assiduity and industry with which he applied himself to mental improvement. His reputation grew rapidly, and the more choice spirits began to gather round him. At that time a society existed at Eton for purposes of discussion, and used to meet periodically in one of the halls. The pro' CANNING'S MIMIC HOUSE OF COMMONS. BOYHOOD OF CANNING. 79 ccodings were conducted in imitation of the House of Commons ; the speaker was elected according to rule ; the ministerial and opposition parties were regularly formed ; and the subject of debate was fuiered. upon with due gravity, decorum, and so- leinnity. In this arena Canning soon gained celo- brity by the clearness and vigor of his speeche?-- pledges slight indeed, but in his case sure, of tliuie magnificent powers he was to exhibit in Parliament, where, in the words of a living orator, he "ruled the House as a man rules a high-bred steed, as Alexan- der ruled Bucephalus ; of M'hom it was said, that the horse and the rider were equally proud." The friendships he now formed led to an enter- prise laudably characterized by spirit, courage, and ambition. This was the publication of the famous boy-periodical called the "Microcosm," projected by the more accomplished Etonians, with Canning at their head. It issued weekly from Windsor, and was after the plan of the "Spectator;" the design being to treat the characteristics of the boys at Eton as Addison and his friends had done those- of general society. The scheme was devised with care and deliberation, and entered on with exemplary energy. The first number appeared in November, 1786 ; and in it the juvenile editor wrote — " The curious observer may here remark in the bud the difierent casts and turns of genius which will, in future, strongly characterize the leading Teat- 80 STATESMEN. ures of" the niiiid. We see the embryo-statesman, who may hereafter wield and du-ect at pleasure the mighty and complex system of European politics, now employing the whole extent of his abilities tu circumvent his uompanious at their plays, or adjust- ing the important diflerences which may arise be- tween the contending heroes of his little circle ; or a general, the future terror of France and Spain, now the dread only of his equals, and the undisputed lord and president of the boxing-ring. The Grays and Wallers of the rising generation here tune their little lyres ; and he who hereafter may sing the glories of Britain must first celebrate at Eton the smaller glories of hid College." Canning was not the editor, but contributed a larger share to the work than any other boy. Another of the writers was Mr. Frere, who afterward shone so con- spicuously in tho pages of the '* Anti-Jacobin." Can- ning's essays were, however, by far the best. They quite surpass any other specimens of English prose written in boyhood, and were specially jiraiscd by the critics of the period for that refined humor which, in after j'cars, was so often and with so much eflect em- ployed against his Parliamentary antagonists. Ilia poem on the slavery of Greece, in one of the early numbers, was ahso a creditable efTusion. The work continued to appear till July, 1787, when the copyright "was sold for fifty guineas. Several imitations of it have Wen unsuccessfully attempted at difl'erent schools, the BOYHOOD OF CANNING. SI most ambitious probably, being the coi temporary paper which emanated from Harrow. It came forth with a somewhat indiscreet frontispiece, represent ing the two pubhcations in a balance, the Harrow periodical being made to outweigh its rival. Upon ■seeing it Canning, with his usual point and felicity, dashed off this epigram : " \Vhat mean ye by thi.s print so rare. Ye wits of Harrow jealous ? Behold ! your rivals soar in air, And ye are heavy fellows /'' At Eton Canning was rather an ardent politician, and, on one occasion, took an active interest in the Windsor election. In 1788 he left Eton ; but so strong was his attachment to the place, that even in his greatest days he hardly ever missed a Montcm, and on such occasions was in the habit of enjoying the amusements as much as the boys themselves. At Oxford he made many new friends ; and among others subsequently distinguished in j'ublic life, he became intimate with Mr. Jenkinson, who after- ward, as Earl of Liverpool, was at the head of afliiirs for fifteen years. A debating society was formed, lim- ited to the number of six, and met every Thursday evening at the rooms of the members. Before sepa- rating at night, or, as it not seldom happened, at one or two in the morning, the subject for the following week was voted and recorded. Canning and Jenk inson were generally matched anainst each other in F «2 STATESMEN. the eoniest of words ; an amicable rivalry and gen erous emulation lending life and animation to the intellectual struggles. Here, Lord Liverpool, who was educated expressly with a viev/ to taking part in the government of the country, is said to have de- livered his first speeches; whereas Canning's strength, as we have seen, had been already tried and proved at Eton, where the late Earl Grey and Marquis Wellesley had put forth their juvenile powers of debate at an earlier period. That Canning already looked to the House ol Commons as the scene in which his triumphs were to be accomplished there can be no doubt ; for, writing to a friend in 1768, he said — " I am already, God knows, too much inclined, both by my own sanguine wishes and the connection with whom I am most intimate, and whom I, above all others, revere, to aim at the House of Commons as the only path to the only desirable thing in this world — the gratification of ambition, while, at the same time, every tie of common-sense, of fortune, and of duty, draws me to the study of a profession." His University studies were, in the mean time, pursued with incessant diligence, and his achieve- ments were equal to his industry. He contested tho prize for "The Aboriginal Britons" with the Rev. J)r. Richards, and was beaten, but transcended a 1 competitors in the " Iter ad Meccam," which was recited by him in June, 1780; the theatre being BOYHOOD OF CANNING. gS unusually full, and presenting a splendid assemblage of beauty and fashion The vacations were generally spent at some rural mansion, where he was always, from his wit and brilliancy, a welcome guest. One of his frequent places of resort was Crewe Hall, in the county of Chester, whose lady's wit, grace, and beauty, were at that time so effectual in rendering the Whig cause attractive. One day while walking in the grounds with this charming dame, "one of the women of the people," she asked him to furnish an epitaph for her favorite dog Quon, which had just been buried near the dairy-house. Mr. Canning declared that he could not write epitaphs ; but she insisting, and re- fusing to take any denial, he boldly produced the folloAving : ''Poor Quon lies buried near this dairy, And is not this a sad quandary ?" At the close of his Oxford career he entered as a student at Lincoln's Inn ; but, as may be conceived, without setting himself very seriously to the study of the law. He devoted much time to the political de- bating societies, where he was warmly applauded as a patriot, and was admitted to aristocratic assem- blies, where the great Lord Shelburne predicted he would one day be prime minister of England. Hia position, however, was extremely difficult and per- plexing ; his maturer convictions belied the political impressions of boyhood ; he therefore became a Tory, 84 STATESMEN and gave in his adherence to the minister of the day The imperial-minded son of Chatham, who was then almost single-handed, sustaining the mighty conflict, knew and recognized the value of such an ally. In 1793 Canning took his seat as member of Parlia- ment for Newport, and soon after received the ap- pointment of Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs. In this post he continued till Mr. Pitt's resignation, the " Anti-Jacobin" hav'ng meanwhile been given to the world. On the return of Mr. Pitt to power in 1804, he became Treasurer of the Navy. In 1807 he was Foreign Secretary in the administration of the Duke of Portland, with whom he was connect- ed through his wife, the daughter and co-heiress of the celebrated General Scott. In 1818 he went as embassador to Lisbon, antl, shortly after returning, filled for sometime the office of President of the Board of Control. In 1822 he had been appointed Governor-General of India, and had actually gone to Liverpool to take leave of the electors of that town, who had, much to their credit, four times returned him to Parliament, when the death of Lord Castlercagh made way foi him at the Foreign Office. In the April of 1627, on the death of Lord Liverpool, Mr. Canning became ])rime minister of England, thus fulfilling Lord Shel- burne's rather hazardous prophecy. He did not live long to enjoy his hard-won, but well-merited honors. On the morning of the 8th of August he breathed BOYHOOD OF WEBSTER. 85 his last, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, by the tomb of Mr. Pitt. Ills death caused a deep, heartfelt sorrow, which pervaded all ranks and con- ditions of his countrymen. BOYHOOD Of WEBSTER. This distinguished statesman, whose loss Europe and America have recently been called upon to deplore, is stated to have been of Scottish descent ; but it is believed that his family, a collateral branch of which produced the celebrated lexicographer, resided some time in England previously to 163G, about which year his direct progenitor settled in the town of Hampton, New Hampshire. The father of Webster appears to have been a man far above the ordinary level ; and, doubtless, he imparted more val- uable traits to his son than the jet-black hair, dark piercing eyes, gipsy-like skin, and sturdy frame, which distinguished both. When, young, he enlisted as a soldier in the ranks of the provincial troops, under Sir Geoffrey Amherst, and accompanied that general in his invasion of Canada. Before the close of the war, his conduct and valor had raised him to the dignity of captain, and his services were rewarded with a grant of land at the head of the Merrimac River. Having thus fairly entitled himself to say 'lulitavi non sine gloria, he located himself at the 86 STATESMEN. extreme north of the town of Sahsbury; so that, as his son. afterward said, the smoke of his log-cabin ascended nearer the north star than that of any of his majesty's New England subjects ; and commenced the process of clearing in 1764. Shortly after- ward, he married a lady of Welsh extraction, built a frame-house, dug a well, and planted an elm over it. There, on the ]8th of January, 1782, Daniel Web- ster was born ; and though the frame-house and the original log-cabin have alike disappeared, the farm still remains in possession of the family. The tree under whose shade he sat and read, or mused as a boy, and the well which quenched his thirst, and reflected his shadow, are still visible, and to the last were objects of as much interest and attraction, when he left for a while the busy haunts of men to enjoy the mvitmg repose which the place of his nativity afforded, as they had been, when, with open book, he contemplated the beautiful " Elegy," whose stanzas he ever loved to repeat, and which, within a few hours of his death, conveyed pleasure and gratification to his heart, and solaced his departing spirit. The abilities that shone in Webster tlirough life were encouraged and fostered in the earliest of thoso years, when human nature so easily takes impressions for good or evil, by his mother, who united a strong mind and a powerful intellect to an ardent ambition and a fearless spirit. He supposed that she must have commenced his lessons almost in infancy, as be BOYHOOD OF WEBSTER. 89 was unable to recollect the time when he could not read his Bible ; and, being naturally and justly proud of the extraordinary talents he displayed, she bent the whole force of her vigorous understanding to train and prepare him for that station which she felt and foresaw, he would ere long occupy. The wild, thinly- populated country where his father dwelt, was not, as may be supposed, excessively tempting to the Kchoolmaster tribe ; and the opportunities of educa- tion enjoyed by the future statesman and orator were therefore extremely limited in extent and indifferent in value. One itinerant teacher did, however, keep a school for a small portion of the year, at three miles' distance, and to it Webster trudged daily in mid-winter, often up to the ankles in mud and mire. The schoolmaster initiated him into all the knowl- edge he himself possessed ; namely, reading, writing, and arithmetic ; and the future statesman began to manifest an evident love of books, which, as may be imagined, were somewhat scarce in the district. However, by the exertions of his father, combined with those of the clergyman and lawyer, a small circulating library was soon opened, and straightway Webster began to devour the contents, with the eagerness of a young tiger tearing its prey. He showed at this period a decided predilection for poet- ical works, and committed to memory a great deal of poetry, which in after years he turned to account with a judgment and ielicity not always exhibited 90 STATESMEN. by Transatlantic orators. When not engaged in reading or study, the fishing-rod or the gun was his companion. He was fond of solitude, and of river and woodland scenery, vxnder the inspiration of which he was, in later years, in the habit of composing and pondering the most remarkable passages in those ora- tions which dehghted the hearts, refined the taste, and elevated the tone of his countrymen. At the age of fourteen he was sent to Exeter, and entered at the academy, where he learned the rudi ments of English grammar, and made considerable progress in the learned languages. It is rather sin- gular that while there he manifested the strangosi repugnance to declamation of every description ; nos could all the encouragement or entreaties of the assist- ant-tutor tempt or induce him to engage in it. lie did, indeed, commit pieces to memory, and recite them in his own room, but when the time for deli\r ering them arrived, he shrunk from a public display The fact is so interesting, that it may not improperl) be given in the oracle's own words : " I believe I made tolerable progress in most branches which I attended to while in this school ; but there was one thing I could not do. I coula not make a declamation. I could not speak hrforn the school. The kind and excellent Buckminstei Bought especially to pursuade me to perform the ex- ercise of declamation, like other boys, but I could not do it Many a piece did I commit 1o memory, and BOYHOOD OF WEBSTER. 9 recite and rehearse in my own room, over and ovo again ; yet when the day came, when the schoo collected to hear declamations, when my name wai called, and all eyes were turned to my seat, I could not raise myself from it. Sometimes the instructora frowned, sometimes they smiled. But I never could command sufficient resolution." This school was found more expensive than con- sisted with his father's means, and he was conse- quently removed from it after a few months, during which he had heen unequaled for the accuracy and success of his study. He was then taken by his fa- ther to be placed under the care of a clergyman who received pupils into his family, and prepared them for college on moderate terms. On their way, the intention of giving him the benefit of a college edu- cation was communicated, and seems to have elicited the finest feelings. " 1 remember," he says, " the very hill which we were ascending, through deep snows, in a New-England sleigh, when my father made known his purpose to me. I could not speak How could he, I thought, with so large a family, and in such narrow circumstances, think of incurring so great an expense for me ! A warm glow ran all over me, and I laid my head on my father's shoulder and wept." His progress was wonderful and rapid ; and now commenced that mental toil which never ceased to the end of hie life. Under the careful tuition of Dr 1)2 STATESMEN. Woods, ho, with but an imperfect knowledge of Latin, was in the habit of reading one hundred hnea of Virgil at a lesson. He not only read, but under- stood and relished them. His recreations were the same as those which subsequently occupied his leisure hours ; and, in his rambles, the rifle was his constant ■companion. Dr. Woods once ventured to hint that his example in this respect might exercise an injuri- ous influence on the other boys. The suggestion, though delicately conveyed, acted on the mind of his sensitive pupil to such a degree, that he sat up and devoted the whole of the next night to study ; and, when the master appeared as usual in the morning, read his hundred lines without a mistake. As the worthy doctor was preparing to go, Webster request- ed him to hear a few more lines. Another hundred was read, and allhougli breakfast was repeatedly an- nounced, there was no prospect of the lesson coming to a conclusion. At length the impatient doctor ask- ed him how much farther he could read ? " To the end of the twelfth boolc of the yEneid," was the ready and starlhug reply. From this date his hours were so sacredly devoted ti> study that in less than a year he read with his teacher Virgil and Cicero, and in private two books of Grotius and Puflendorf in Latin. Chance threw in his way an English copy of " The Adventures of Don Quixote," which produced its usual fascinating .nfluence on liis imagination, and was perused with BOYHOOD OF WEBSTER. 93 eager celerity. The " Spectator" also took his fancy, and received much of his attention. In the month of July, Webster was summoned home to assist on the farm ; but he was, at that time so little qualified by physical strength for such labors, that a half day's experience sent him home with blistered hands and wearied limbs. Next morn- ing his father sent him back to his teacher, who re- ceived him Avith heartfelt joy ; and assured him that Avith hard study he might be fit to enter college at the opening of the next session. He set himself to grapple with Greek, of which he had not then learn- ed even the alphabet, and was particularly success- ful in the eflbrt, though he had only a couple of months to devote to it. Fortified with such learning as he had acquired, Webster, in the summer of 1797, look the least valuable of his father's horses, and depositing his wardrobe and library in a pair of saddle-bags, set out for Hanover. Scarcely had he snatched the last fond look of his father's dwelling when a furious storm began to blow, and rendered his journey some- what disagreeable. However, by perseverance, he reached the place of destination ou the second day ; and forthwith entered the freshman class, at Dart- mouth College, in which he Avas at once recognized as being superior to his associates. After a residence of two years, during Avhich he displayed his Avontcd ardor and industry, he returned home to spend a 94 STATESMEN. vacation. He now felt keenly for the situation oi his younger brother, who was destined to remain at home, and spend his energies in a vain attempt tc remove a mortgage from the homestead. Webster knew and appreciated his brother's intellectual en- dowments, and resolved that they should enjoy equal privileges. For a whole night they held earnest dis- course of their prospects ; and, next morning, Webster determined to break the matter to their father, who experienced no small pain at the thought of separa- tion from both his sons, especially as he had set his heart upon having the younger as his helper. A family council was held, and Mrs. Webster's char- acteristic decision at once prevailed, and settled the question. "I have lived long in the world," she said, "and have been happy in my children. If Daniel and Ezekiel will promise to take care of mo in my old age, I will consent to the sale of all our property ; and they may enjoy the benefit of what remains after our debts are paid." The father yield- ed, and when the elder brother returned to college, the younger with a staff in one hand and a bundle in the other, bent his way on foot to the scene of his preparatory studies. After graduating at the age of nineteen, Webster entered the office of a lawyer in his native place ; but, being pressed by poverty he accepted an invitation to teach a school at Frye- burg Maine, at a salary of three hundred and fifty dollars, or seventy-five pounds a year. Such a po- BOYHOOD OF WEBSTER. 95 sition was certainly critioal, and not a little perilous to his prospects of greatness; but he was resolved ; and aut viam inveniam aut faciam might have been his exclamation as he toiled through the daily dull routine. Notwithstanding the severe labors of the school, he devoted his evenings to the irksome drudgery of recording deeds in the county register, for which he received a moderate remuneration, that enabled him to save his whole salary ; and, besides, applied himself to the study of Blackstone's " Com- mentaries." In 1S02 he returned to the lawyer's office ; but two years later went to Boston, and pursued his studies under a profound jurist and statesman of that city. In 1805 he was admitted to the bar, and won high legal fame. In 1812 he was elected to Congress, where his first speech produced so striking an efiect, that com- petent judges did not hesitate to predict that hi> would, some day, be one of the first statesmen in America. His succeeding efforts were so successful as to call forth the remark, that " the North had not his equal, nor the South his superior." He continued to reside in the town of Portsmouth till 1815, when he removed to Boston, and for some years devoted himself to his profession with briUiant success. In 1822 he was elected Representative in Congress from the Boston district, which he continued to rep- resent till elected to the Senate of the United States. la 1841 he became Secretary of State, under the 96 STATESMEN Presidency of General Harrison, an office to which he was worthily recalled hy Mr. Fillmore in 1850, and the duties of which he discharged with signal ahility and success. On the 24th of October, 1852, he died at his mansion at Marshfield, near Boston, where he was interred in presence of a vast and mourning assemblage. The youthful career of this remarkable man is full of instruction and encouragement to juvenile aspi- rants, in whatever circumstances they may be placed. Few men in pursuit of greatness have had more diffi- culties to encounter on their entrance into life ; but he nobly surmounted them all by a determined will, indomitable perseverance, and industry that no labor could daunt, and by the exercise of the talents with which Providence had endowed him, for the purpose of conferring benefit on his fellow-men. Let the ambitious youth do likewise, and he will not be without his reward — -fame, respect, admiration, and the lofty consciousncsfi of having glorioiislr done hia duty. CHAPTER V BOYHOOD OF LORD MANSFIELD Of the men who, in England, have profited by, and contributed to, the grandeur of the law, hardly one has exercised more influence, or radiated with greater brilliancy, than the "silver-tongued Mans- field ;" though his birth was certainly not such as to promise any intellectual struggles more important than some very disagreeable ones with poverty and pride. The fifth Viscount Stormont, a Scottish peer, with a long pedigree and a small estate, had married the only daughter of Scott, of Scotstarvet, representative of the male line of Buccleuch; and, by this lady had no less than fourteen children, of whom the fourth son was destined to become Chief-Justice of England, one of her most splendid orators, and the framer of that commercial code which is not the exclusive pos- session of any single nation, but the common property and invaluable heritage of all. 100 LAWYERS. William Murray was born on the 2d of March, 1705, at the ruinous castle of Scone, built on the site of the ancient abbey in which the kings of Scotland had been crowned from times of fabulous antiquity. He is stated to have been a very fine child, but there is no mention of prophetic hope having raised around his cradle any of those visions which might have charmed the imagination of a fond parent, when keeping watch at the couch of an infant destined to shine among his legal contemporaries, like the moon among the lesser lights. His earliest years wer& passed under the care of his nurse, on the banks of the beautiful Tay ; but its fair and picturesque scen- ery seems to have made no lasting impression on hifi memory, as no lingering affection for his childish haunts ever brought him back to them, after he had entered on the career of ambition. When very young he was sent to receive the rudi- ments of his education at a school in Perth about a mile and a half from his father's residence, to which, with a satchel on his shoulders, he went daily, some- times on foot, and sometimes on the back of a shaggy pony. Here he commenced his studious preparation for "drinking champagne with the wits," and being " honored in the House of Lords," by applying hirn- eelf with so much diligence to his books, as altogethei to escape the infliction of the peculiar instrument of punishment which is defied, dreaded, and felt by the schoolboys of his country. He was already remark BOYHOOD OF LORD MANSFIELD. 101 able for the clearness of intellect, powers of applica- tion, and regularity of conduct, which distinguished his subsequent career, contributed to his great suc- cess, and lent lustre to his high position. His knowl- edge of Latin ere long enabled him to translate Horace and Sullust with ease, to converse in the Ian guage with flueucj', and to prove his proficiency, by writing both in prose and verse. His companions, the sons of the neighboring gentry and of the trades- men in the town, had equal advantages with himself, but he soon showed his superiority, and was gener- ally at the head of his class. In 1713 Lord and Lady Stormont, for purposes of economy, removed from Scone to a small house in the county of Dumfries, leaving Willie (as the future Chief-Justice was familiarly named) and a youngei brother in charge of the master of the grammar- Echool, who received for their board a yearly pay- ment in money and a certain quantity of oatmeal, which, although at the time provokingly considered in England as the food of horses, was, it would seem, in the shape of porridge, one of the principal items of the daily fare set before the incipient luminary of the law and his thirteen brothers and sisters in their early years. When he had raised himself to high and enviable office, these circuihstances connected with his early training furnished an inexhaustible armory of ridicule to his enemies ; but he wrapped himself up in a dignified indifierence, which defied 1U2 LAWV^ERS. their utmost eflbrts as efiectually as ever the iron panoply of his ancestors had resisted more substan- tial weapons of offense. When he was approaching his fourteenth year, it was intended that he should go to complete his edu- cation at the University of St. Andrews ; but this scheme was fortunately frustrated by the interference of his brother James, who gave effect to the Jacobite opinions of his family, and passed his life in exile untler the title of Earl of Dunbar. This gentleman, who was possessed of high and brilliant abilities, having received a most favorable account of his young brother's talents, was anxious to enlist him in the service of the ill-fated Stuarts. For that purpose he could conceive no better means than having him educated under the auspices of the bold and accom- plished Bishop Atterbury, than dean of Westminster , and therefore by letter represented to his father the great advantages that would attend his being brought up there, the probability of his being put on the found- ation as a King's Scholar, and the certainly of his getting a scholarship at Oxford. Thus urged and advised. Lord Stormont resolved to send him to Westminster School ; and it was announced to the " boy of quality," as he was afterward tauntingly termed, that he was to delight his young eyes with the wonders of the rich south and of the marvelous city of London, instead of consorting, and enduring poverty, with the high-cheeked and unpliable-feat* BOYHOOD OF LORD MANSFIELD. 103 urcJ students avIio paced the cloistered hall of St. Andrews. His parents at that time looked to the English har as the sphere in which he was to display, and profit by, the talents with which he had been gii'ted ; and It was arranged that he should, without delay, set out for the region where Hope beckoned him. Thosu were not, however, the days of quick and convenient traveling. Even post-horses had not come into fashion ; and the adventurous youths who dofled the kilt and put on Christian breeches to seek fortune in the south, and to be satirized by Churchill and abused by Johnson, were limited in their choice of a convey- ance to an Edinburgh coach, which started once a month, and professed to arrive in London before the tenth day after its departure, and the traders that sailed from Leith two or three times a month, and were sometimes six weeks on the voyage. Such be- ing the means of public traveling, it was deemed advisable that the young aspirant to legal distinction should perform the journey on the back of a pony bred by his noble father, which was to be sold on arrival, that the amount obtained for it might assist in defraying his expenses in London. Thus mounted, he left Perth and his youthful com- rades on the 15th of March, 1718, in the expectation of reaching Edinburgh the same day with ease and safety ; but, when near the end of his journey, the pony became lame, so that he was under the uecessitv 104 LAWYERS. of leaving it behind, and traveling the remainder of the distance to the Scottish capital on foot. There having fully equipped and accoutred himself, and had his steed brought to him in a sound condition, he pur- sued his way to Dumfriesshire to bid fai'ewell to his parents. An old ash-tree is still pointed out, under whose shade tradition asserts that he took leave of his father. Doubtless the parting would be some- what painful on both sides, and it was the last ; for, though they survived many years, he never saw either of his parents again. Henceforth mclior fortuna parente might have been his motto. Perhaps antici- pations of splendid success in store for him mingled with the anxiety which they would naturally feel at his being thus launched on the world ; and, with all chances against him, Murray realized the most san- guine dreams which parental affection could possibly have led them to indulge in. Resuming his way, the young hero reached Gretna Green, with as mixed emotions as many who have since halted there to enact in haste a scene to be repented of at leisure. Here he staid for the night ; and, spurring on next day, was struck with surprise at the fortifications of Carlisle, which in a few years inspired with very different feelings those Scotch cousins whom he was called upon, as Solicitor-Gen- eral, to prosecute for treason against King George. Pursuing his course, he arrived at his destination in safety ou the 8th of May, and was received with BOYHoOD OF LORD MANSFIELD. 101 great kindness by a thriving apothecary, who hav- ting, ike the pony that had carried the young adven- turer, been born and bred on the Stormont estate, was all anxiety to be of service to a scion of the renowned family. This man assisted him to dispose of his nag, advanced money to attire him in fitting costume, installed him with the head-master of Westminster School, and lodged him with a trustworthy dame in its vicinity. Thus situated, Murray applied himself with exem- plary steadiness to his books. The schoolboys were at first inclined to laugh at and mimic his accent, and torment him with the customary jokes about his impoverished country ; but he at once repelled them with that calm, proud dignity, against which, more than half a century later the vehement and sounding billows of Lord Chatham's splendid eloquence exert- ed and exhausted their utmost force in vain. The school, luckily for our hero, never had been in a bet- ter condition than when he entered it. The number of boys was five hundred ; their daily instructors were eminent scholars, and they were examined at elections by Bishops Atterbury and Smalridge. The emulation incited was great beyond all precedent ; and Murray's talents soon shone conspicuously. He took infinite pains to excel in his declamations, and thus laid the foundation of that felicitous oratory, by which he rose to the highest honors of his profession, excited and swayed one house of Parliament, and 106 LAWYERS. charmed and graced the other. ]Iis success in clas- sical studies was also striking ; and, at the end of a year, he was -worthily elected a King's Scholar, though perhaps indebted for being so to the Jacobite influence used in his behalf During one of the vacations, having availed him- self of an invitation to spend his time at Lady Kin- noul's house, she observing him with a pen in his hand, and apparently in deep meditation, inquired if he was writing his theme, and what, in plain En- glish it was. " What's that to you ?" was the ready reply. " How can you be so rude ?" demanded her aston- ished ladyship. 'I asked you very civilly a plain question, and did not expect from a schoolboy, so pert an answer. " Indeed my lady !" was the rejoinder ; " I can only assure you once more. What is that to you ?" The theme being in reality Quid ad te j)ertinet? At the election in May, 1723, afier a rigorous examination, he made good at Westminster the prom- ise he had given at Perth, and was first on the list of King's Scholars who were to be sent on that found- ation to Christ Church : but his prospects were at this time unexpectedly and sadly overcast. Con sidering himself destined for the bar, he had been, m the habit of visiting Westminster Hall, and hear- ing the most eminent pleaders, and in fact believed himself to have, as he himself expressed it, " a call- BOYHOOD OF LORD MANSFIELD. 10" ing for the profession of the law ;" but h.s father, finding that the expense of a legal education waa more than he could, without great inconvenience, afford, had come to the conclusion that there was no other course open for him than to take orders in the Church. Murray felt the necessity of this, but he felt it with sorrow, and respectfully bowed to a de- cision which he could not decorously attempt to con- trol. However, having about the time of his removal to Oxford casually mentioned his disappointment to one of his friends, a son of the first Lord Foley, that nobleman at whose country house Murray had spent some of his holidays, being aware of his remarkable genius, and desirous that it should have a fair stage, kindly encouraged him to enter upon a legal career, and with great delicacy volunteered to assist him with the requisite means until he met with that success which he believed him certain, ere long, to command. This offer, handsomely and generously made, was frankly and gratefully accepted, and with the consent of his family, Murray, while yet an un- dergraduate at Oxford, was entered at Lincoln's Inu, about the beginning of 1724, though he did not com- mence keeping his terms till he had taken his bache- lor's degree. He remained at Oxford four years, during which he pursued his studies with the view of qualifying for the chosen profession he was so brilliantly to adorn. Avoiding the temptations of Port, which 108 LAWYERS. werc all too strong ibr some of his able but impru dent contemporaries, he manifested great regularity in his attendance at chapel and lecture, and devoted himself with exemplary ardor to oratory — the charm- ed weapon with which he was to accomplish his tri- umphs over men and fortune. In 1727 his future antagonist, Pitt, being one of the competitors, he gained the prize for a Latin poem on the death of George I., whose praise he of course unhesitatingly sung, notwithstanding the Jacobite prepossessions which he had imbibed in childhood. It is improba- ble that, after arriving at manhood, he ever allow- ed them to influence his fine intellect, except, indeed, on those rare occasions when, in moments of excite- ment, old associations coming round him in their most attractive form, he gave vent to sentiments in his expressions that were afterward unsparingly and un- fairly used by his political foes as instruments of attack. Having taken his degree, he removed to Lincoln's Inn, and set himself with earnestness to acquire a knowledge of his profession. He attended a debat- ing society, where points of law were discussed, and frequented the courts at Westminster for the pur- pose of listening to the judges. In 1730 he was called to the bar, to which he brought literary taste, great accomplishments, extraordinary eloquence, and an ardent ambition to excel. Though he was tv^'o long years without being emploY'' OF GALILEO. iJ)> with a work to prove the motion of the earth and the constitution of the heavens. Having rendered the truth as attractive as the exercise of his power- ful genius and exquisite taste could make it, he ob- tained permission to publish it, by something very like a dexterous manoeuvre. The sad result is too well known. The book itself was condemned by the In- quisition, and its author, at the age of sixty-nine, compelled, notwithstanding his weak state of health, io undertake a journey to Rome. On arrival, he was put under arrest, and forced to swear on hia knees to a series of propositions affirmative of the fixedness of the earth, and the motion of the sun round it every twenty-four hours ; and abjuring, de- nouncing, and detesting the error and heresy of the doctrines which he had labored with so much zeal to estabhsh, and vindicated by arguments which his opponents found themselves unable to refute. Persecution had now done its work. That high and haughty spirit, which, in the cause of truth, had long defied all dangers, was at last broken. With- out being relieved from the grasp of the Inquisition, he was, after remaining four days in its dungeon, permitted to reside in the palace of the Tuscan em* bassador, whence he went to Sienna. After passing six months there, he returned to his own villa at Arcetri, called the Gem, where he spent the remain- der of his life, and was visited by Milton. Almost immediately after his arrival he lost his daughter, 156 ASTRONOMERS. ■who was the sole comfort and stay of his declining years. During his last days, at Arcetri, which he styled his prison, he composed his " Dialogues on Motion," and made his latest astronomical discovery, the diurnal libration of the moon. This took place in 1636, soon after which he lost the sight of an eye, and subsequently beoiise totally blind. He expired on the 8th of January, 1642, m the seventy-eighth year of his age ; and his bones were laid *' in Santa Croce's holy precincts," among the ashes that make them holier. The perjury of which Galileo was guilty is un- doubtedly a deep blot on the brilliancy of his fame ; but the circumstances under which it was committed, though they can not excuse, are calculated to palliate his departure from truth and honor. It is neces- sary, even when admiring his genius, to look steadily through the lustre which it has cast around it, and note this great transgression. Perhaps, however, his sufferings may, in some measure, be taken as an atonement. At all events, the finger of scorn is pointed by posterity at the memory of his persecutors, while his name shines with radiant though not stain- less brightness in the foremost rank of those who have accomplished great things for theii species, widened the sphere of human knowledge, and over- thrown the prejudices that have long enthralled the minds, and narrowed the visions of men. BOYHOOD OF FERGUSON, The noblesse of Florence furnished the illustrious astronomer whose boyhood has been briefly sketched ; the peasantry of Scotland, a class which enjoys tha ennobling distinction of having given the poet Burns to the world, produced this good and celebrated man, who, in happier times, on a free soil, and with the favor of his sovereign, exercised the great talents with which Providence had endowed him to minister essentially to the progress of astronomy, and to pre- sent an encouraging instance of successful study and perseverance. Ferguson has left a frank and simple record of the struggles, difficulties, and disappoint- ments he had to encounter, which is, at the same time, highly interesting, instructive, and worthy of attention, and conclusive as to his having originally had no worldly advantage, save that of being the son of honest and religious parents. James Ferguson was born in the year 1710, near the village of Keith, in Banffshire, where his father was a day-laborer, and the cultivator of a small plot of ground rented from a neighboring proprietor. This honest man's family was somewhat too numer- ous to admit of his paying regularly for their educa- tion out of his limited moans, and he was under tho necessity of teaching his children to read and write himself, as they reached the age which he considered 158 ASTRONOMERS. as fitting them to profit by his instruction. It ap- pears, however, that our astronomer anticipated the period which his father considered early enough for commencing his lessons. While an elder brother was being taught to read the Catechism of his coun- try, James was in the habit of giving his earnest and undivided attention to what was going on ; and when they left the cottage, he would, from memory and study, go carefully over the lesson which he had just heard. Being ashamed, as he states, to apply to hia hard- wrought father for the necessary information, he used to seek it from an old woman who lived hard by, and who aided him so efiectually, that he was enabled to read with considerable correctness before his father had deemed it time to bestow any instruc- tion upon him. Greatly and agreeably surprised, therefore, was the latter when he, one day, suddenly came upon James, quietly seated in a corner, and studiously jDoring over pages which he had hitherto been held utterly incapable of comprehending. On being informed of the circumstances which led to this knowledge, the gratified father gave him further information, and initiated him into the mysteries of penmanship ; so that James Avas soon so acairnplished as to be sent for the completion of his education to the grammar-school at Keith, Avhere he remained for a few months, and no doubt, profited much by the tuition he received. About this time a lasting taste for mechanics was BOYHOOD OF FERGUSON. 159 accidentally awakened in him by a very simple occur- rence. When he was about seven or eight years old, the roof of the cottage having partly decayed and fallen in, his father, in order to raise it again, applied a prop and lever to an upright spar, and, to the aston- Uhment of his son, lifted up the ponderous roof as if it had been a trifling weight. Young Ferguson's wonder was not unmixed with terror at the gigantic strength which, at first sight, appeared to have been exercised to produce this result; but, while consider- ing the matter carefully, it struck him that his father had applied his strength to the extremity of the beam, which he immediately concluded to be an important circumstance in regard to the operation. He resolv- ed, however, to ascertain the correctness of this idea by experiment ; and, having formed several levers, soon found that he was right in his conjecture as to the importance of applying the moving force at the farthest possible distance from the fulcrum. He also discovered that the efTect of any weight made to bear upon the lever is exactly in proportion to the distance of the point on which it rests from the fulcrum. Considering, then, that by pulling round a wheel, the weight might be raised to any height by tying a rope to the weight and winding it round the axle of the wheel, and that the power gained must be just as great as the wheel was broader than the axle thick, he found it to be exactly as he had imagined, by hanging one weight to a rope put round tho 160 ASTRONOMERS. wheel, and another to the rope coilei round the axle. Thus he had made most important advances in the knowledge of mechanics without either book or teacher to assist him ; and, indeed, without any other tools than a small knife, and a turning-lathe of his father's. Having made his discoveries, he pro- ceeded to record them carefully on paper, imagining his account " to be the first treatise of the kind ever written," till a gentleman to whom the manuscript was shown undeceived him, by producing for his inspection a book on mechanics. However, he had the satisfaction of seeing that his young genius had enabled him to arrive at important philosophical facts, and that his account, so far as it went, per- fectly agreed with the principles of mechanics as now unfolded to him. He states that, from this time, his mind preserved a constant tendency to improvement in that science. Being too weak for more vigorous labor, Ferguson was sent to a neighbor to take care of sheep ; but tending sheep was not, by any means, his sole occu- pation. It was at this period that his attention was first turned to the movements of the heavenly bodies ; and in the day-time he was always busy making models of mills, spinning-wheels, or any thing of the kind he happened to notice. Having terminated his first engagement a.s sheep- boy, he renewed it with a neighboring farmer, whom he found so kind a master as to indulge him in wha" FF.ncrSON-S FIUST ATTEVI'TS in ASTnoN.)M\'. BOYHOOD OF FERGUSON. 163 were naturally enough regarded as boyish eccentrici' ties. Indeed, it may well be imagined that his pre- decessors in the humble office cared little for such /matters. But Ferguson, instead of acting on the: schoolboy motto, opcre pc7-acto ludcmus, which in generally considered sufficiently binding, was in the habit of wrapping himself closely up in a blanket, and betaking himself to the fields near the farm- house to make observations on the stars. "I used," he writes, "to stretch a thread with small beads on it, at arm's length between my eye and the stars ; sliding the beads upon it, till they hid such and such stars from my eye, in order to take their apparent distances from one another, and then laying the thread down on the paper, I marked the stars thereon by the beads. Tily master, at first, laughed at me ; but when I e, plained my meaning to him, he encouraged me to go on, and that I might make fair copies in the day-time of what I had done in the night, he often worked for me himself I shall always have a respect for the memory of that man." Happening one day to be sent on an errand to the minister of Keith, who had known him from infancy, James took his " star-papers" with him. He found the reverend gentleman poring over a num.ber of maps, which he requested to be allowed to look over. His wish being readily granted, he was delighted with their contents ; asked a great many question.s with the utmost eagerness ; learned for the first time 164 ASTRONOMERS. that the earth is round : and finally prevailed on the minister to lend him a map of the world to copy, along with materials for doing it. James was now so intent on map drawing, that he had scarcely pa- tience to continue his wonted labors in the field ; but his master perceiving that he was no ordinary lad, proved extremely indulgent and accommodating. In fact, he is described by Ferguson as giving him more time than could reasonably have been expected. "He often," says the astronomer, "took the thrash- mg flail out of my hands, and worked himself, while I sat by him in the barn, busy with my compasses, ruler, and pen." Having diligently copied the map, and completed the task, Ferguson obtained his master's permission to take it back to the owner. As he was passing the schoolhouse on his way, the teacher, M'ith whom he had been for a short time, cam^e to the door, and hailed him to inquire about the contents of the parcel he was carrying. Ferguson having explained, the schoolmaster examined the copy, and asked if he would like to learn to make sun-dials. Thereupon a man who was engaged painting a sun-dial on tha wall highly praised the copy, and told the school- master that it was a pity the young draughtsman did not meet with notice and encouragement. Fergu- son, after having had a good deal of conversation with this man, whom he found most communicative, pro- ceeded to the minister's and was conversing with HOYHOOD OF FERGUSON. 165 him, when Mr. Grant of Ackoynamey, a neighbor- ing squire, came in, to whom he was immediately introduced. This gentleman was so much pleased with the copy of the map, and the answers Ferguson gave to some questions put by him, that he proposed that our young astronomer should go and live at his house, in order that he might receive instructions from his butler. The latter turned out to be the same person whom James had seen painting the Bun-dial on the walls of the schoolhouse, and of whom he had conceived a very high opinion. He, therefore, told the squire that he should gladly ac- cept his ofler, and come to stay at his house when- ever his present engagement had expired. The squire good-naturedly proposed to put another stripling in his place; but James, from motives of gratitude and respect to his kind master, declined this ofier. When the time of his servitude was over, he re moved to Mr. Grant's house, where he was most kind- ly treated, and found a most competent instructor in the butler, under whom he studied, and made him- self well acquainted with decimal arithmetic and alge- bra. As soon as he was tolerably proficient in the latter, he commenced learning the elements of gC' ometry ; but just at that time, to his great grief, his teacher left Mr. Grant to live with a nobleman at several miles distance, and Ferguson, declining tha pressing invitations he received to stay at Ackoy- namey, returned to his father's house. The butler, J66 ASTRONOMERS. at parting, had made him a present of Gordoifs " Geographical Grammar," which he regarded as a great treasure. From the description it contained, Ferguson completed a globe in three weeks, having turned the ball out of a piece of wood, and covered it with paper, on which he drew a map of the world The ring and horizon he made of wood, covering them with paper, and graduating them ; and he was delighted to find that ho was able to solve the prob- lems with his globe, though it was the first he had ever seen. But his father's circumstances would not long per- mit him to occupy his time m this congenial manner, however agreeable it might be to his inclinations. He therefore determined on leaving his parental cot- tage ; and thinking it would be an easy and pleas- ant business to attend a mill, and that, in such a situation, he should have a great deal of time to study, he engaged himself to a miller in the vicinity. He was somewhat unfortunate in this step. His new master was inclined to be a toper, and spent nearly the whole of his time in the alehouse, leaving Fer- guson all the work to do, and frequently nothing to cat. In this man's service he remained for a year, when he returned home in a very weak state of health. Having regained his strength under carefid treat ment, he was hired, somewhat against his will, to a neighboring farmer, who practiced as a physician BOYHOOD OF FERGUSON. 167 This man promised to initiate hira into liis profes- sion ; but this he never did. On the contrary, Fer- guson was kept constantly at hard work; and, fai from being taught any thing, Avas never shown a book. His term of servitude was a year ; but he found himself so much disabled at the end of three months, that he was obliged to leave, and once more returned to his father's in a weak state of health. Here, however, he was not idle, but set himself to make a wooden clock, which kept time with con- siderable regularity ; and not long after, when he had recovered his health, he gave another and strong- er proof of his ingenuity by constructing a time-piece, which moved by a spring. His attention having thus been turned to the mechanism of time-pieces, he was enabled to do a little business in the neighborhood in cleaning clocks, which brought him some money. After this, having been induced by a lady, to whom he was introduced, to attempt the drawing of pat- terns for ladies' dresses, he was sent for by others in the country, and speedily found himself growing quite rich by the money earned in this way, which was the more satisfactory that it afforded him the means and pleasure of occasionally supplying the wants of his father. He also began to copy pictures with his pen, and to attempt portrait-painting, in which his success appeared to his country patrons so striking and real that they took him to Edinburgh to be instructed in the art. He followed his new pro JC8 ASTRONOMERS. fession for twenty-six years with considerable Bucceea but not with devotion. His astronomical studies had not, in the mean time, been neglected ; he had still continued to make observations on the stars, and was most enthusiastic in this pursuit. Having discovered th3 cause of eclipses by himself, he drew up a scheme to show the motions and places of the sun and moon in the ecliptic on each day of the year. This having been engraved, .sold well ; and its author's mind be- came every day more absorbed in astronomical studies. At length tired of drawing pictures, for which he had no natural taste, he resolved to go to London, in the hope of finding employment as a teacher of mechanics and astronomy. He was immediately brought into notice by the President of the Fvoyal Society, to whom his paper on the moon's motion had introduced and recommended him. In 1747 he published a disputation on the phenomena of the harvest-moon. In 1748 he began to give public lectures on his favorite subject, and had King George III., then a boy, frequently among his auditors. In 1763 he was elected a Fellow of the Pvoyal Society the usual fees being in his case remitted. He died on the 16th of November, 1776, having won and enjoyed a distinguished reputation both in England and on the Continent. No life could be more fruitful of pleasing and salutary instruction than that of this self taught man uf genius. The eagerness with which he sought, and BOYHOOD OF FEKGUSOM. 166 the industry he displayed in acquiring knowledge, are worthy of the highest respect and commendation, and will ever furnish a most inciting example to those who would follow in his honorable steps, and gain his well-deserved fame. CHAPTER VIII. Natural |)l)iloso|j|)cr0. BOYHOOD OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. TiiE name of this great English philosopher is one of the most illustrious that history presents. Tha immortal discoveries his genius effected, the height of fame he rciiched, and the meekness and humility he exhibited after his most marvelous intellectual triumphs, are in the highest degree calculated to excite wonder, to win admiration, and to command respect. Newton had never to contend with such circum- stances as have perplexed and distracted many of those who have accomplished great things for the human race. His father was a flirrner-squire of Lin- colnshire, who died before the birth of his famous Bon, leaving his mother a widow a i'cw months after their marriage ; and had their only child been one rejoicing venando aut agrum colendo cbtatem agere, he would, in all probability, have passed through life in case, comfort, and prosperity. Perhaps, in such t tiQYUOOD OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 171 case, he might have turned his powerful mind to the science of agriculture, and contributed materially to its progress. But, be that as it may, his attention was, at an early age, directed to other subjects, and the foundation laid of his deathless fame. In a valley by the river Witham stands the old manor-house of Woolsthorpe, where his forefathers, originally from Lancashire, had vegetated for centu- ries. There, in the dark December of 1642 — a dark and gloomy period — this benefactor of his kind first saw that light whose speed he was destined to ascer- tain. He was so small and feeble an infant that hardly any hope of his surviving the hour of his birth was entertained by the attendants. Indeed, two women were dispatched for medicine to strengthen him, and were not a little surprised to find him in life on their return — -by so slender a thread hung the existence of the child who was to perform distinguish- ed services to the world, his country, and his religion. Unsearchable, truly, are the ways of Providence ! His mother, ere long, became the wife of a neigh- boring rector, and the young philosopher, being left in the care of her mother, was in due season sent to a day school at Skillington. At first, however, ho did not prove a very attentive scholar. A peculiarly active mind and a lively fancy did not naturally lead him to any particular diligence or industry in the routine studies to which a boy is at first expected to apply himself ; and he rather delighted to practice 75i NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. his dexterity in the use of a set of small tools, with which he gave evidence of a mechanical bent of mind. While his companions were at sport or mischief, he was in the habit of busily occupying his attention with some mechanical piece of workmanship, invented by his own young brain, and fashioned with his own little hands. An accident first fired him to strive for distinction in the school-room. The boy who was immediately above him in the class, after treating him with a tyranny hard to bear, was cruel enough to kick him in the stomach with a severity that caused great pain. Newton resolved to have his re- venge, but of such a kind as was natural to his rea- soning mind, even at that immature age. He determ- ined to excel his oppressor in their studies and lessons : and, setting himself to the task with zeal and dili- gence, he never halted in his course till he had found his way to the top of the class ; thus exhibiting and leaving a noble example to others of his years similar- ly situated. Doubtless, after this, he would heartily forgive his crest-fallen persecutor, who could not but henceforth feel ashamed of his unmanly conduct, while Newton would feel the proud consciousness of having done his duty after the bravest and noblest fashion which it is in the power of man to adopt. At the age of twelve he was removed to a public Echool in the borough town of Grantham, where he was remarked as a " sober, silent, thinking lad," somewhat fond of retirement, not altogether averse BOYHOOD OF SIR l&AAC JNEWTON. 173 to solitude, and much given to observation. Per- ceiving that a windmill was erecting in the vicinity he watched it with great interest and attention, went every day to mark the progress made with it, and bo- came so thoroughly acquainted with the machinery as to construct and complete a small model of it. This he placed on the top of the house, where, to the joy of himself and his companions, it was set in mo- tion by the wind ; and the machinery was so perfect a copy of that from which it had been taken as to call forth the warm praise of all who saw it. At this time he introduced the flying of paper-kites, till then unknown, thereby entitling himself to the grat- itude of boys of all future generations, studied assid- uously the most advantageous shape and size, and had enough of the spirit of mischief in him to tako vast delight in raising rumors of comets and meteors, by attaching paper lanterns to the kites on a dark night, i^nother of his inventions was a water-clock, which was most ingeniously constructed, and used long after his departure from Grantham by a surgeon, in whose house he had lived while there. His at- tention was also keenly directed to the movements of the celestial bodies, and by narrowly watching the shadows as they passed slowly along the wall of his lodging and the roofs of the adjoining houses, he d© vised and formed a dial for his own use. Following up his success in this respect, he traced out and cor- fpcted it by observations which he made in succeed* 174 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. ing years. It was long remembered in the town ab a good time-piece, and known, as a memorial of hia early genius, by the name of " Isaac's dial." Ordinary boys are animated by a .spirit which not Beldom prompts them to set him of the birchen rod at defiance, and avoid the hated school-room for the lonely banks of running streams, or any other place where they can indulge, uncontrolled, in every spe- cies of mischief It delights one to wet his feet in fishing for minnows, or in trustnig to the waters the boat shaped by his own hands, when he should have been otherwise employed. It pleases another to abuse the unfortunate donkey that circumstances may have placed in his power. A third rejoices in robbing birds' nests, to the certain destruction of his clothes, or in climbing crags and precipices in search of young hawks and owls, at the risk of his neck. A fourth lazily reclines on the grassy sod, and, under the noon-day sun, dreams of such actions as the others are engaged in. But Newton cared for none of these things. Almost from iufaury he had occu- pied his mind with study ; and while out of school, he always preferred the society of the females in the house where he lodged to that of his thoughtless schoolfellows. Among the former was a young lady, clever and attractive, for Avhom he conceived a juve- nile friendship, which gradually ripened into a more tender feeling ; but circumstances were adverse, and ',t camf to nothing. BOYHOOD Ot' SIR ISAAC NEWTON. V o On his arrival at the age of fifteen, his relations •eeined it time that he should qualify himself for what seemed his natural career. Accordingly, he was summoned from his studies to assist in farming the small estate to which he was born, and returned to Woolsthorpe to apply himself, as they expected, to agriculture. It soon became evident, however, tnal he would never flourish as a farmer. The cultiva tion of the soil, the breeding of sheep, the growth of corn, and the fattening of cattle, were not subjects of the slightest interest to him. His mind was too • rfirnestly intent on, and absorbed in, other pursuits to care for such matters ; and he was framing some model, getting a water-wheel into play, or solving a vlifficult problem, little recking whether his wheat was ripening on the arable land, or his flocks thriving in the green pastures. Neither, when sent on Sat- urday to Grantham market, did he show the slight- est turn for selling grain, handling pigs, or bargaining with cattle-dealers over a tankard of the old Saxon beverage. On the contrary, no sooner were the horses stabled at the Saracen's Head Inn than he ran off to his former quarters, and pored over some dusty volume, till the aged servant transacted the necessary business, to the best of his ability. At other times, he did not even enter the town, but, sitting down under a tree by the wayside, read studiously till hia trusty henchman returned. It was under such circumstances that an uncle of 176 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. his, who was rector of the adjoining parish, t'onud him one day seated under a hedge reading a book, which so completely monopolized his attention that he was totally unaware of any one having approach cd the spot. The reverend gentleman was, in no small degree, astonished to find that the cause of his nephew's abstraction was his being deeply engaged iu the solution of a mathematical problem, and had no hesitation in determinuig that nature had not intend- ed him foi rural honors, lie therefore employed hi& influence with Newton's mother to allow the young philosopher to betake himself to those fields where his genius beckoned him ; and, there appearing no pros- pect of his making himself very useful otherwise, he was sent back to the school at Grantham. After remaining there for a few mouths, and refreshing his learning, lie was, to his joy, sent to Cambridge, and entered at Trinity College. Of his studies less is known tlian could be wish ed, considering the results to which they led ; but Newton, after he had done more than any man to extend human knowledge, was in the habit of speak- ing of himself as having been all his life as " a child gathering pebbles on the sea-shore ;" thus intimating that, for great ends, he had ever been ready to collect and make use of such facts as came in his way, no matter how insignificant they might at first sight ap- pear. It is thus only that extensive information is asquired, memorable discoveries made, and high deeds BOYHOOD OF SIR ISAAC JSEWTUiN. 177 accomplished. Small matters lead to and make up great, just as the boy grows to be a man ; and frac- tions of true knowledge should never be despised, dis- regarded, nor lost sight of — " For he that sees his wine-filled vessell drop (Although a drop in value be but small), Should thence occasion take the leake to stop, Lest many dropings draine him dry of all. Moreover, they that will to greatness rise, A coui-se not much unlike to this must keepe . They ought not small beginnings to despise, Nor strive to runne before they learne to creepe Bj many single cares together brought The hand is filled : by handfulls we may gaine A sheafe : with many sheaves a bame is fraught ; Thus oft by little we doe much obtaine." So says an old writer ; and so seems to have thought this mighty philosopher, whose name is exalted high above all eulogy. On this principle he appears to have acted from the first ; and it was because he did so that he had made many of his grand discoveries, and laid the foundation of them all before he had arrived m his sixth lustre. But it was not exclusively in such pursuits that his leisure time was employed : he was fond of his pencil, and attained no inconsiderable proficiency in drawing.. As he grew older he varied his amusements by writing verses ; but whether they displayed any gUmmering of high poetic talent is somewhat more than doubtfn.. He mentions m his uote-book the interesting fact that in 1644 he pur- M 178 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. chased a prism, by means of which he investigate* the properties of light ; and, after much careful ob servation, and deep study, and mature reflection established the great and important truth, that it consists of rays differing in color and refrangibility. "During the year 1666," says Sir David Brew- ster, " he applied himself to the grinding of optic glasses of other figures than spherical ; and having, no doubt, experienced the impracticability of execut- ing such lenses, the idea of examining the phenom- ena of color was one of those sagacious and fortunate impulses which more than once led him to discovery." By his knowledge acquired of glass lenses, and the properties of light, he constructed several telescopes, the most perfect and powerful of which was sent to the Boyal Society, in whose possession it is still care- fully preserved, as it deserves to be. But the break- ing out of the plague compelled him to leave Cam- bridge, and to spend the next two years in the calm retirement of Woolsthorpe. This interruption of his academical studies, M'hich may, at first sight appear inopportune, was, perhaps, calculated to refresh the spirit and invigorate the faculties of this wonderful man. In his reflections on what he had already achieved for science, he would find the seeds cf won- ders yet to be performed, and acquire that rare strength of mind which prevented him giving the results of his meditations in an imperfect state to the world. At all events, it is certain that at this pe- BOYHOOD OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 179 riod occurred to him the idea that terminated in his discovering the system of the universe, which forms the chief subject of his immortal " Principia." Sit- ting one day in his quiet orchard, he observed an ap- ple fall from a tree. Pveflecting on the i.ower of that principle of gravitation by -which it was brought to the ground, this simple incident formed part of the great thoughts that were then occupying and chasing each other through his capacious mind ; and it led him gradually to his knowledge of the grand law of universal gravitation, which, sixteen years later, he was happily enabled advantageously to disclose, and clearly to demonstrate. Meantime, returning to Cambridge he had taken his degree of Master of Arts; and, in 1G68, been appointed to a senior fellowship. Shortly after this he became Lucasian Professor of Mathematics. lu 1694, one of his college friends, Charles Montague afterward Earl of Halifax, becoming Chancellor ot the Exchequer, Newton was, by his influence, ap pointed Warden of the Mint. This rendered it nee cssary for him to remove to London, where he devot ed himself to the duties of his office, with honor to himself and advantage to the country. In two years he was promoted to the Mastership of the Mint, and forthwith honors flowed upon him in abundance. He was elected a member of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris, instituted in 1666. In 1701 he was returned as member of Parliament for his Uni- 180 NATURAL PHlLOSOFHElib. versity ; and, in 1705, took kniglithood from ihr hand of Queen Anne, on the occasion of her visit to Cambridge. He had completed the pubhcation of his " Principia" in 1687; but, in 1720 Avas induced to bring out a third and much enlarged edition. The habits of this illustrious man were of the simplest kind, and he retained his powerful faculties i;nimpaired to the last days of his existence. Though delighting in the calm society of a few congenial friends, to whom he would unfold the priceless treas- ures of his great mind, he latterly declined mixing much in general company, lie had still, it would seem, something of that preference for studious retire- ment which had prompted him when a little boy to withdraw to a corner of the school playground Throughout life he was sincerely and significantly religious, and in his writings ever held it his highest duty to assert the omnipotent majesty of his Creator. On the 20th of March, 1727, he expired, in the eighty-fifth year of his life, and was laid at rest in Westminster Abbey, among the dust of those who for centuries had adorned their country. In the gar- den at Woolsthorpe, which has, as it were, been con- secrated by the recollections of his genius, an arm- chair, formed from the wood of the tree from which he marked the fall of the apple, presents an interest- mg memorial of his boyhood and youth. A brief inscription, on the statue erected in his own college at Cambridge, declares him to have surpassed al] BOYHOOD OF GASSENDl. Jffi men in genius. In the great a;id glorious Abbej where his dust reposes, a costly monument proclaims him humani generis, decus. This is high, but not too high, praise ; for of all the statesmen, heroes, kings, whose ashes repose within those hallowed pre- cincts, not one has left a name at once so stainless and imperishable as that of this high-priest of nature. It is well, and may be not unprofitable, to reflect that many of the great qualities which excite our admiration in the career of this great philosopher may be imitated by those who can not hope to vie with him in the splendor of his genius, or add, in the slightest degree, to his unparalleled discoveries. THE BOYHOOD OF GASSENDI. This distinguished man ranks as one of the great- est philosophers whom France has produced. To philosophy and the sciences he has added much, cal- culated to advance respectively their various ends. He was a proficient in natural history, and metaphy- sics, geometry, anatomy, astronomy, medicine, and biography, and besides a most elegant and profound writer. He lived at a time when modern art and science were in their infancy, and by indefatigable industry, and laborious and ingenious research, he 82 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. earned the honor of being designated as " Le meillem philosophe des litterateurs, et le meilleur litterateur des philosophes." Pierre Gassendi was born in the village of Chaa- tersier, near Digne, in Provence, on the 22d of Janu- ary, 1592 He was the son of pious, benevolent, and unpretending parents, whose ambition it was to inculcate on the mind of their child principles of goodwill and charity to all men. At their humble and quiet hearth Gassendi acquired those simple and unassuming manners which were a most pleasin^ characteristic throughout his studious life. Though Gassendi's boyhood displays talent of most remark- able development, still all his fame must not be at- tributed to that circumstance. He was undoubtedly rarely gifted by nature, Avas inti-usted with abilities that fall to the lot of few ; and for this reason atten- tion is called to some of the extraordinary facts re- lated of him, as some are apt to give to nature the credit of many noble achievements, and to allow little or no merit in him who, endowed with talent, has, by preseverance and untiring industry, proved him- self entirely worthy of, and actively grateful for, hia natural capacities. Gassendi was only four years of age when the study of the celestial bodies began to occupy and perplex his brain. He would, in the evening, escape from his guardianess, and steal into an adjoining meadow, to occupy himself in contemplating the heavenly BOYHOOD OF GASSENDI. 183 bodies. With what mingled awe and astonishment must the boy philosopher have surveyed a firmament so vast and mighty I Destitute even of such knowl- edge as his seniors had then acquired, what feelings save those of wonder and curiosity could have lured the timid child to seek the dark and solitary meadows ? And yet something more than these must have stirred him ; for wonder, long unsatisfied in one so young, would but create fear. Some feeble ray of mighty truths must have dawned upon his young brain — eome impulse more powerful than wonder — some search for truth must have urged his nightly Avander- ings. He had scarcely completed his seventh year when he satisfactorily proved to his companions that it was the clouds, and not the moon, that moved so rapidly, by taking them under a tree, and telling them to look steadily between the branches, when they might see the clouds pass on, and the moon ap- pear stationary. In the day-time he found much amusement in preaching short sermons, or in deliver- ing mimic lectures to his juvenile eomjianions. When ten years old he harangued the Bishop of Digne, during his pastoral visit to Provence : and he so astonished the prelate by his eloquence and judg- ment, that the churchman assured the people present of his confidence that a high and a brilliant career awaited the young philosopher. About this time Gassendi was under the educational control of the cure of his native villaire and the teacher .84 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. was justly proud of his pupil. At his studies and lessons he was the most intelligent, as well as the most industrious, in the school. Not satisfied with the. learning which tuition could impart to him in the prescribed hours of study, he used to retire to the chapel after the classes had broken up, where, by the dull light of a lamp which was kept continually burn- ing there, he could busy himself with his beloved pur- suits. His industry soon made him acquainted with all the knowledge the village-school could furnish, and he was accordingly removed to an establisment of greater pretensions at Digne, where his attention was almost exclusively given to rhetoric. Here, in his leisure hours, he wrote several little comedies. Having completed his studies at Digne, he repaired to Aix, to go through a course of philosophy. At the early age of sixteen Gasscndi obtained the Trofessorship of Pvhctoric at Digne. His parents destined him for the church ; and, in order to qualify him for this avocation, they found it necessary to send him back to Aix, to study theology, sacred history, Greek, and Hebrew. He speedily made himself master of all this learning, and obtained honors for his proficiency in theology. Soon after the comple- tion of his studies he took the Doctor's gown at Avignon, and was nominated prelate of the chaptei of that town. The year he came of age he was of- fered at the same time the professorships of philosophy and theology it? the University of Aix ; he accepted BOYHOOD OK GASSENDl. 184 the theological professorship only, and delivered his first lecture extempore. The subsequent bright career of Gassendi presents such a striking example of the abundant fruit an early industry will yield, that some of the honors ■with which his learning loaded him may be here briefly mentioned. In 1638 Gassendi was honored with the esteem and friendship of Louis de Valois, afterward Duke of Angouleme, who not only said he appreciated the great learning of the philosopher, but proved that he did so by aiding him in his arduous researches. Gassendi's habits had remained unchanged. He never rose later than four in the morning — sometimes at two. He studied until eleven, unless some visit interrupted him. He was neither vain-glorious nor bad-tempered, but as mild and tractable as a child, and nothing gave him greater pleasure than to have a question proposed to him involving some difficulty. In the afternoon he again studied from two or three o'clock until eight, and retired to rest between nine and ten. There was not a book on science or the belles-lettres which he had not perused, and his learned writings gave evidence that M-hat he had read he re- tained and profited by. During all the political agitations Gassendi had been exposed to their violence ; and tc recompense his fidelity, the Duke of Angouleme used his influence to obtain for him the agency-general of the clergy ; 18G NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. but he, preferring tranquillity to fortune, abandoned his claim to a rival. Subsequently Gassendi was nearly nominated tutor to Louis the Fourteenth He was appointed lecturer on mathematics to the College-Royal of France. Queen Christina of Swe- den sought a correspondence with him. He possessed the friendship of Frederick the Third, king of Den mark, several of the French princes, the Cardinal du Retz, and, indeed, of all the celebrated .nen of his day, who were prompt to acknowledge his greatness, and justly proud to call themselves his friends. This great man died on the 14th of October, 1655 , he fell a victim to the extraordinary bleeding mania which prevailed at that period. In the chapel of Saint Joseph, at Saint Nicolas-des-Champs, may be seen the mausoleum of him whose untiring diligence and high talent had made him the boasted philoso- pher of France, and furnishes a worthy example to posterity. THE BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. The life of Franklin presents to youth a model most worthy of respect and imitation. Born in a humble sphere, and enjoying no advantage save that of a powerful intellect, we find him, by the exercise of invincible perseverance, ere long as the representa- BOYHOOD OF FRANKLLN. 187 live of his native land, in whose affairs he acted so conspicuous a part, receiving the homage of the most polished court in Europe, and defying the wrath of the most powerful country in the world. How he attained so prominent a position is a question which may well occupy the attention of any boy who aims at distinction. Fortunately, he himself has told the story of his early life in a letter to his son, which leaves no doubt as to the means of his success. Per- severance and self-denial have raised many to eminence, but never were they more signally triumphant than in the case of the remarkable man who " grasped the lightning's fiery wing." Franklin did not, like the mighty English philoso- pher, bring to his experiments an intellect disciplined from youth in scientific investigations. Indeed, it was not until he had reached mature manhood that, with a mind schooled by severe experience, he turned his attention to the subjects on which he made those invaluable discoveries which are the most honorable monuments of his high abilities and his strong determ- ination. His father was a tallow-chandler and soap-boiler in Boston, North America, who, in 1682, had emi- grated from England with his wife, three children, and several of his friends, on account of their being denied that freedom of worship which they deemed essential to their welfare and happiness. His mother was a daughter of Peter Folger, of whom honorable 188 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. mention is made as one of the earliest New Eng.and settlers. Of his father's seventeen children Franklin was the youngest, with the exception of two daugh- ters. He was a suprisingly quick child, and, having learned to read, was sent to a grammar-school, with the intention of his being educated as a clergyman. This plan was, for a short time, resolutely pursued by his father, and encouraged by his relations, especial- ly an uncle, who offered to give him, as his contribu- tion, several volumes of sermons, which he had taken down in short-hand from the different preachers whom he had been in the habit of hearing This individual by trade a silk-dyer, had read much, and had con- vinced himself of his poetic powers by filling two volumes with manuscript verse. But to make the tallow-chandler's means sufficient to defray the cost of his son's education for the Church defied his in- genuity ; and Benjamin was forced to abandon the prospect of clerical honors. He was now put to learn writing and arithmetic, and speedily wrote a good hand, but the mysteries of arithmetic baffled his comprehension. Bemoved I'om school at the age of ten, he was placed in the establishment of his father, who, having apprenticed his other sons to various trades, probably looked for- ward to the youngest succeeding him in his own. In this, however, he was deceived ; for Benjamin being employed, as he himself relates, in cutting the wicks ior candles, filling moulds, going errands, and similar BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. 189 drudgery, conceived so strong a disgust at the l)usi« ness, that he made up his mind rather to go to sea than remain at it. One of his brothers had. freed himself from restraint in this way before, and his father not rehshing a second catastrophe of the kind in his family, considered it prudent to find some con- genial occupation for his youngest son. He therefore carried him round to see a great many different trades- men at their work, and the result was an agree- ment that he should be apprenticed to a cousin who had just set up as a cutler in Boston ; but, after having been several days at work, his father, think- ing the required fee too much, resolved to withdraw him. Upon this, he was, somewhat against his will, indentured to his brother James ; who, having been bred a printer, had just returned from England, and commenced business for himself in his native city. This was, in one respect, an advantageous situa- tion for Franklin, as it tended to encourage him in that system of reading which, almost from infancy, he had manifested a strong inclination to pursue. His father's limited library consisted chiefly of books on controversial divinity — a subject not extremely in- teresting to so young a reader ; but among them was a copy of " Plutarch's Lives," read over and over again by him with profit and pleasure. Another was Defoe's " Essay on Projects," which he perused eagerly. Besides, he applied such small sums as came into his possession to the purchase of Bunjan'a k90 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. works, subsequently bartered for Briton's " Historical Collections." In after years he often expressed his regret that, at the time when his thirst for knowledge was so great, books were not within his reach ; though possibly it v/as from reading much, and not many books, that his mind acquired its peculiar energy, and the rare faculty of making small means work out mighty ends. But, when placed in his brother's printing-office, he was enabled considerably to extend his knowledge by borrowing volumes from booksellers' apprentices. On such occasions he would sit up all night reading, so that they might be restored in the morning to their place on the shelf His studious habits attracted the attention, and engaged the interest, of a merchant who was frequently about the printing-office, and who, desirous of facilitating his pursnit of knowledge, kindly invited him to avail himself of the tolerably well-stocked library he possessed. The ofler thus made was, of course, gladly accepted and much profit- ed by. At Icngtli Franklin felt ambitious of trying his skill at composition, and, disdaining humble prose, attempted some pieces of poetry. These so pleased his brother that he induced Franklin to write two ballads, which, on their being printed, he sent him to sell about the streets. One of them being on a subject that had created a deep sensation, they sold prodigiously, and so far all was well; but his father, who, though by no means blessed with much literary BOYHOOD OF FRANKLLX i'i. culture, appears to have been gifted with a large share of common sense, convinced him that they were in reality wretched productions, and that he should writ-p no more of them. Moreover, he brought forwarc' the argument that verse-makers had always beer beggars from Homer downward, which appeared sc conclusive to the philosophic Benjamin, that he there- upon resolved to be any thing rather " than one of these same metre-balladmongers." However, his attention Avas shortly turned into new pastures. An intimate friend being, like himself fond of books, was in the habit of argning with him on such subjects as struck them in the course of theii reading. Happening one day to raise the question of the abilities of women, and the propriety of giving them a learned education, Franklin warmly main- tained their fitness for the severer studies. But whether or not it vi^as that he had entered the lists rather in the spirit of contradiction than in that of chivalry, it is certain that he was worsted in the con- flict. Attributing this to his antagonist's greater flow of words, and believing his own reasoning to be the stronger, he drew up his case on paper, and, making a careful copy, sent it for the other's perusal. This occasioned a correspondence, which fortun ately fell into the hands of his father, who, with his usual acuteness and sagacity, pointed out the faults in the composition. Resolved to improve his style, Franklin set about 192 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. the matter with his characteristic energy, and had the good fortune to take for his model one of the best which the hterature of England furnishes. This was the " Spectator," of which he accidentally became possessed of an odd volume. With a view to imitate its style he labored with great industry, and in the end was encouraged, by his success, to hope that he might one day become a tolerable English writer, of which he was very ambitious. True to the cultivation of his mind to the utmost extent in his power, he practiced self-denial to a de- gree which has seldom been equaled. Thus, at the age of sixteen, meeting with a book recommending a vegetable diet, its great cheapness immediately de- termined him to adopt it. For this he assigns two reasons — the first being, that it enabled him to bar- gain with his brother to give him half the sum that his board had hitherto cost to support himself; the second, that his repasts being much more easily and quickly dispatched than those of the other printers, he could devote the greater part of meal-time to his studies. About this time he made himself master of the science of arithmetic, which he had in vain at- tempted at school, and acquired some slight acquaint- ance with geometry. Having read Locke " On the Human Understand- ing," and the " Port-Uoyal Art of Thinking," and profited by some " Sketches on Logic and Pvhetoric," which h^ found at the end of an English Grammar BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. 1U3 Franklin found an opportunity of trying his strength as a writer, and giving evidence of the benefit derived from those studies for which he had sacrificed his meals by day, and his rest by night. His brother had, in 1720, speculated in the publi- cation of a newspaper, which was the second that appeared in America, and known as the " The New England Courant." This brought literary men of Boston frequently to the printing-office, where Frank- lin heard them discussing the merits of the diflerent articles that appeared. In this way he was led to the desire of signalizing his prowess in its columns ; and having written a paper in a disguised hand, he put it at night under the door. On being submitted to the Boston critics, it met with particular approval, and, in their guesses at the author, no one was men- tioned but men of some mark in the town. Thus encouraged, he continued for some time to write in the same way, keeping his secret till curiosity was raised high ; and, when he disclosed it, he found himself treated as a person of some consequence by his brother's literary acquaintances. His brother, however, did not exhibit any sign of joy at the efforts being successful. In fact, he had always treated Franklin with any thing rather than indulgence, and been in the habit of beating him with a harshness which often rendered an appeal to their father necessary. The decision was usually given in Benjamin's favor ; but, whether from hi? N 194 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. having been generally in the right, or that he was the better pleader, he does not take upon himself to decide. This had made him anxious for an opportunity of shortening his apprenticeship, and at length one was presented. An article in his newspaper gave so much offense to the local government, that the printer was cen- sured and imprisoned. During the time that his brother was in durance, Benjamin, whose studies had never been allowed to interfere with proper attention to his business, conducted the paper ; and, notwith- standing the rigor shown by the Assembly, criticised its proceedings with great courage and severity. Moreover, he had managed matters so well, that when James was released, and ordered no longer to print the newspaper, it was resolved, by those who took an interest in it, that in future it should be printed in Benjamin's name. At the same time, lest the former proprietor should be accused of merely screening himself behind one of his apprentices, the indentures were discharged. But, in order to secure his brother's services to the end of the time formerly agreed on, James devised the flimsy scheme of mak- ing him sign new indentures, which were to be kept secret. Having thus settled matters, as he imagined, the elder brother, in a month, or two, resorted to the old mode of maltreating him ; and Franklin, aware that he durst not produce the private indenture, as- serted his freedom. BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. 195 James took the only species of revenge in his power, that of cautioning every printer in Boston against employing him ; so that, after duly weigh- ing and considering all the circumstances, Benjamin saw no other course open than to go and try his for- tune in New York. Knowing, however, that if liia father were apprised of his intention, he would oppose this step, it was found necessary to go without his leave. Franklin, therefore, having raised a little money by the sale of his hooks, took his passage in a sloop, and the breeze being favorable, set foot on the quay at New York in three days. Here he met with no success in his applications for work, but was ad- vised to proceed to Philadelphia, where he arrived after a passage that threw him into a fever. This he allayed with copious draughts of cold water, and land- ed in a condition which he describes as most miserable. Next morning he set out to seek for employment, which he found with a printer named Keimer, who sent him to lodge at the house of a Mr. Read, whose daughter he immediately fell in love with, and after ward married. Accidentally a letter written by him to a brother-in-law was shown to the Governor of the province, who thereupon introduced himself to Franklin, and persuaded him that he should immediately estabhsh himself as a printer at Phil- adelphia. Thus incited, he made a voyage to Boston, with a letter from the Governor to his father, recommending the undertaking ; but the old ^handler refused to enter into the scheme, or advance 196 NATUKAL PHILOSOPHERS. the requisite capital, and Franklin was compelled tc return to Philadelphia, without having in any degree advanced the matter. On communicating his father's resolution to the Governor, the latter declared that he would advance the money himself; so it was arranged that the young philosopher should sail to England by the first vessel, with letters of credit to the extent of a hun- dred pounds, with which to purchase the types and other articles necessary. On arriving in London Franklin discovered, to his horror and dismay, that the Governor's letters of credit were utterly useless : and, thus thrown on his own resources, he offered his services to a printer in Bartholomew Close, who accepted them, and was highly satisfied with the proofs he gave of sobriety, industry, and economy. In this position he remained for a year, at the end of which he was offered a clerkship in a store to be opened in Philadelphia. Influenced by a desire to return to his native country, he accepted the offer, and, after a long voyage, ar- rived at his destination, in October, 1726. His master dying at the end of six months, Franklin returned to his former employment. He Boon formed a business of his own, and undertook the management of a newspaper, which, in his hands was successful beyond all expectation. He was ap pointed printer to the House of Assembly, and, ir 173G, its clerk. The Governor placed his name on the commission of the peace, ^he corporation of the BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. 19? city chose lilm one of the common council, and soon after an alderman, and the citizens elected him as their representative in the Assembly. It was in the year 1746 that Franklin's attention was directed, with his usual earnestness of purpose, to those electrical studies which led to his discovery of the great theory of electricity, and secured him undying fame. Happening to meet at Boston with a Dr. Spence, who had just returned from Scotland, he witnessed some experiments, not very expertly made by that individual. By the exercise of hia characteristic perseverance, he was enabled, in June, 1752, to perform that celebrated achievement which sent his fame through Europe. When his electrical discoveries were first announced in England they attracted little notice ; and his paper, on being read to the Royal Society, appeared so absurd as to meet with nothing but ridicule. But the subject having made great noise on the Continent, and being much spoken of generally, the members were induced to re- consider the matter ; and, one of their number hav- ing verified the grand experiment of bringing down lightning from the clouds, they made ample amends for their mistake by electing him a member, and pre- senting him with the Copley Medal for 1753, which was accompanied by a very kind and gratifying speech from the President; Lord Macclesfield. Some years after the degree of LL.D. was conferred on him by the University of St. Andrews, and subse- quently by that of Oxford. 198 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS. In 1783 he signed the treaty of peace with En- gland which recognized the independence of the Unit ed States ; and, on returning home in 1785, he was chosed President of the Supreme Executive Council by his grateful countrymen. On the 17th of April, 1790, he died, full of years and honors; leaving a striking example of how much industry will do in advancing the fortunes of its possessor, Avhen fairly and properly exercised and applied. " Nothing," it has been said, "can be accomplish- ed without a fixed purpose — a concentration of mind and energy. Whatever you attempt to do, whether it be the writing of an essay, or whittling of a stick, let it be done as well as you can do it. It was this that made Franklin and Newton, and hundreds whose labors have been of incalculable service to mankind. Fix your mind closely and intently on what you undertake — in no other way can you have a reasona ble hope of success. An energy that dies in a day is good for nothing — an hour's fixed attention will never avail. The inventions that bless mankind were not the result of a few moments' thought and investigation. A lifetime has often been given to a single object. If you, then, have a desire to bless your species, or to get to yourself a glorious name, fix your mind upon something, and let it remain fixed." CHjirTER IX. itlatljematicians. BOYHOOD OF PASCAL. This great and sublime genius was as pure and blameless in boyhood as he was noble and high- minded in his too few after-years. France, which produced him, and the world, which profited by his labors, have reason to feel pride and gratitude in reflecting on his performances and example. Few have surpassed him for diligence in his studies, devo- tion to religion, and sympathy with the wants of others. His life is, indeed, one which may well in- spire others to indulge in lofty and pious aspirations, and to exert themselves to render their faculties of Bervice to mankind. Blaise Pascal was born on the 19th of June, 1623, at Clermont, a city of Auvergne. His father appears to have been a man of simple mind, but of sound sense and great attainments, and, aided by his wife, managed to bring up his three children with- out having recourse to a public school. Indeed, to a 200 MATHEMATICIANS. competent knowledge of his own profession, the law he added such considerable proficiency in natural philosophy and mathematics as had, no doubt, an important influence in guiding the inclination of his son toward those pursuits with which his name is now inseparably associated. Young Pascal's won derful readiness gave his father great faith in his reaching eminence ; and, under the parental guid- ance, he mastered with unusual quickness the ele- ments of language and of general science. One of his peculiar characteristics at this early age, and which tended materially to promote his subsequent success, was the dauntless perseverance with which he prosecuted inquiries into causes, and the faculty he possessed of arriving at sound and comprehensive conclusions. It is related, as an instance of the results of his industry in this respect, that, when only eleven years old, having heard a plate, on being struck, sound forth a musical vibration, which ceased on a second touch, he made the effect the subject of his daily study and meditation, and thus produced a treatise on the nature of sounds. The elder Pascal, observing the bent of his son's mind, determined to check it for a time, lest its encouragement should in- terfere with and impede his progress in classical and other requisite studies. With this view, he requested his friends to be quite silent in regard to scientific subjects in his son's presence ; and, though the youth begged earnestly to be allowed to study mathematic* BOYHOOD OF PASCAL. 201 it was thought necessary to repress his inclination, and to inform him that he must be kept in total ignor- ance of the science till he had mastered the Greek and Latin languages. Madame Perier, in her simple and touching me- moir of her brother, thus writes : "My brother, perceiving his fathir's objection to his immediate study of geometry, asked what the science treated of? My father answered that it was the science which taught the accurate making of figures and their relative proportions. He then for- bade him to speak to him on the subject or to think of it. But his ardent spirit would not thus be curb- ed ; this simple communication, that mathematics showed the way to make figures inevitably just, made the subject that of his continual consideration in his leisure hours. In his play-room he drew figures with charcoal upon the windows, puzzling himself as to how he could make a circle perfectly round, a triangle of equal sides, and other figures of a like description. All this he discovered alone. Then ho would find the proportions these figures bore to each other. My father had been so careful to keep him in ignorance of these things, that he did not even know the names of the figures he drew. He was hence obliged to give them names of his own : he called a circle a round, a line a bar, &cc. Having thus named the figures, he made axioms, and, lastly, perfect de- monstrations. He carried his researches so far, that 202 MATHEMATICIANS. he had reached the thirty-second proposition of the first book of Euchd, when, my father surprised him at his studies; but Blaise was so engrossed in them, that it was some time before he was aware of my father's presence. It is difficult to say who was the most sur- prised — my father, to find his son so Avell versed in these matters, or my brother, from fear of the conse- quence of disobedience. My father, questioning him as to the nature of his studies, Blaise explained the question he was then occupied with, which turned out to be the thirty-second proposition of Euclid. Being asked what had made him think of it, he an- swered that he had found such and such a thing ; and being again pressed for a more detailed account of his researches, he proceeded to give at length a re- trospect of his labors, always explaining with his own words, ' round and bar.' " The elder Pascal hastened to communicate the discovery to a friend, but was for some time so over- powered with astonishment as to remain quite speech- less. However, when he had mustered voice he said, " It is not with grief I cry, but with joy. You are aware how careful I have been to keep my son in ig- norance of geometry, lest it should interfere with his other studies — notwithstanding, look here I" Having minutely related the interview, his friend advised him no longer to restrain the youth's inclination, but to aflbrd hirn every opportunity of improvement. Our young mathematician wa? accordingly permitted to BOYHOOD OF PASCAL. 203 pursue liis favorite science ; and, when only twelve years of age, is said to have read the " Elements of Euclid" through, without having need of any assist- ance. The father of Pascal had, in 1G2G, lost his wife; and in 1631 he removed with his family to Paris, where he numbered among his acquaintances many men of high scientific eminence. In their company his son sat a delighted and attentive listener, imbib- ing knowledge from the conversation of the learned and talented circle. This made him more and more enthusiastic in his pursuits ; he began to take a part in the discussion of subjects, and his remarks were found extremely useful. At these meetings the writ- ings of the difi'erent gentlemen were read and criti- cised ; and, while duly expressing his admiration of their excellences, he often, with becoming respect to his elders, pointed out errors that had been overlook- ed. His own productions were read with much applause ; and in his fourteenth year he composed essays and treatises evincing strong sense, and distin- guished by great purity of style. Though the hours devoted by other boys to pas- times were alone given up by Pascal to mathematics, his progress was remarkably rapid. At sixteen he had written a treatise on conic sections, which gave all that the ancients could say on the subject ; and, before he had reached nineteen, he invented the fa- mous arithmetical machine that bears his name and fi04 MATHEMATICIANS. testifies his success. While he was still young laa family removed to Pwouen, on his father being ap- pointed intendant, and there they remained for seven years. During this period Pascal pursued his studies with such diligence as to bring on symptoms of a de- cline. Having studied physics while in this tempo- rary retirement, he established the celebrated theory of Galileo's pupil, Torricelii. He subsequently published an account of his ex- periments, which he dedicated to his father ; nor did he rest satisfied until he had written two pamphlets, one on the equilibrium of liquids, and the other on the weight of the atmosphere. Such are the events of Pascal's boyhood and youth, as related by his sister. Sickness and consequent de- bility put an end to the efforts of his splendid genius, and he passed the last eight years of his life in preparing for that death which he felt was approaching. Con- ceiving that his beloved pursuits were not such as should take up the time and attention of a man on the borders of another world, he practiced almost total abstinence from his former labors. In this season of sickness, depression, and seclusion, he wrote and pub- lished his celebrated " Provincial Letters," attacking and exposing the casuistry of the Jesuits. They are distinguished no less by the style and reasoning than by an abundance of wit and humor, which could hard- ly have been expected from one in the sad and melan- clioly circumstances under which he wrote them. BOYHOOD OF D ALEMBEKT. 205 He was deeply affected by the death of a sister who had taken the vail in the convent of Port Royal, and suffered with her sect from persecutions of the Jesuits. He himself died on the morning of the 19th of August, 1662, aged thirty-nine years, and his last words v/ere " May God never forsake me." " Thus," says a French writer, " perished this frail machine, which served as a resting-place, during a brief period, to one of the subUmest minds that evei graced this world. Who dares mark the limits of the good this man might have worked if, blessed with a better constitution, he had lived the usual span of life, and devoted his whole time and talents to the culturj of literature, science, and philosophy]" BOYHOOD OP D'ALEMBERT. This distmguished mathematician, whose European fame is stated by Lord Brougham to have been, dur- ing his life, greater than that enjoyed by any other man of science in any age, was born in Paris, on the 17th of November, 1737. Immediately on his un- welcome entrance into the world, which was ere long to be so proud of his genius, his life was disgracefully imperiled from exposure by his mother to the cold air of a winter's night, near the Church of St. Jean le Rond. From this position he was fortunately rescued 206 MATHEMATICIANS by the police, who, perceiving that the infant's lin was in the utmost danger, dehvered him into the care of a poor but respectable glazier's wife in the neigh borhood, who nursed him with peculiar tenderness. In a few days the father came forward to acknowledge the child, and made provision for his maintenance. The mother, who was afterward celebrated for her wit and accomplishments in the fashionable circles of Paris, was in no haste to follow the example. Indeed she manifested not the slightest sign of desiring to make the acquaintance of her son, till he had acquired fame and distinction. Then vanity prompted her to seek that intimacy which the ordinary feelings of a parent had never induced her to desire. AVhen that time arrived, however, and she requested him, in pres- ence of his affectionate nurse, to come and live with her, he exclaimed, pointing to the latter, "Ma mere I ah! la voila I Je ne connais point d'autre ;" and embraced the glazier's spouse with, tears of filial and grateful affection. At the age of twelve D'Alembert was sent to the College of the Quatre Nations, the professors of which belonged to the Jansenist party. Observing unmist takable signs of early genius in the boy, they strove to implant in his young breast a love of polemical subjects. " In the first year of his studies in philosophy," saya Lord Brougham, " he had written an able and learned Commentary on St. Paul's Epistle to the Pwomans ; BOYHOOD OF D'ALEMBERT. 207 and, as he showed a general capacity for science, the worthy enemies of the Jesuits, delighted tc find that all profound learning was not engrossed by that body, cherished a hope that a new Pascal had been given to them for renewing their victories over their learned and subtle adversaries." It proved vain, however; for his "History of the Destruction of the Jesuits," published long after, is father laudatory of the genius and accomplishments of that body ; and his literary productions are pro- nounced to be quite unequal in merit to those on sci- entific subjects. But it was with this view that D'Alembert's attention was directed to those figures and calculations of which he forthwith became much enamored, and in regard to which he subsequently distinguished himself so conspicuously among his con- temporaries. On leaving college he returned to the humble dwell- ing that had sheltered his infancy, considerately think- ing that the small income he derived from his fathei would minister to the comforts of those who had guard- ed and watched over him in childhood. There, in a small apartment that served both for study and bed- room, he continued to reside for forty years, at the end of which his health obliged him to remove to a more airy abode. In this obscure retreat he applied himself with heait and soul to his favorite study. In prosecuting it he often, like Ferguson the astronomer, made what he e08 MATHEMATICIANS. believed to be original discoveries, till awakened frona the pleasing delusion by some treatise, which he had not previously had the advantage of consulting. Such books, indeed, as his means permitted him to purchase he made himself master of; but the greater number he was obliged to read at the public libraries to which he had access. Devoted as he was to geometry, the very moderate amount of his income rendered it advisable that he should study for some profession likely to yield him a competence, and he accordingly tried the law ; but finding it quite foreign to his tastes, he turned to medicine. In this he was equally unsuccessful ; for though, in order that he might not be tempted from it, he sent his mathematical books to a friend's house till he should have taken his degree, his heart, un- traveled, still remained with his favorite study ; he received back one volume after another till he had re-possessed himself of the whole ; and, like the great Galileo, finding his medical schemes impracticable, he abandoned a hopeless struggle, and allowed his in- clination to take its natural course. His investigations were fruitful of the most pleasant and serene enjoyment to himself, notwithstanding that his kind foster-mothor would often say, " Oh, you will be nothing better than a philosopher — a foolish man who wears his life out to be talked of after he's dead." But, luckily, she proved no prophetess; for hia BOYHOOD OF D'ALEMBERT. 209 etiLdies ere long brought him into that actice which might have been anticipated from the enthusiastic diligence with which they had been followed. An important paper, presented to the Academy of Sciences impressed that learned body so favorably with hia capacity and talents, that, in 1741, he became one of its members, at the almost unprecedentedly early age of twenty-two. Two years later, his " Traite de Dynamique" raised him to the highest rank of geometricians. In 1746 he produced his " Memoir on the Theory of Winds," and in ] 752, his " E ssai sur la Resistance des Fluides. " He was joint-editor with Diderot of the " French Cyclopaidia," commenced in 1751, to which he con- tributed many of the best articles, especially on math- ematical subjects. The controversies in which his literary productions involved him were so unsuited to his tastes and habits, that he always returned with renewed zeal and heart- felt satisfaction to the cultivation of science. Having declined a handsome invitation of the King of Prussia to settle at Berlin, he was, in 1772, chosga Secretary to the Academy of Sciences. He died on the 29th of April, 1783. O CHAPTER X. BOYHOOD OF CAVENDISH. Abo'JT the close of last century an incomprehensi- ble old gentleman had a mansion close to the British Mus,cum. Few visitors were admitted, but those who found their way across the threshold reported that books and scientific apparatus formed its chief furniture. He likewise possessed a large and well- stocked library, collected in a house in Soho, which was thrown open to all engaged in research, and thither he himself would go, when in want of any book, signing a receipt for the volumes he procured with as much regularity as if it had been a circulating library, and he a reader, either little known or littla trusted. His favorite residence, however, was a sub urban villa at Clapham, almost wholly occupied as workshops and laboratory. The upper rooms consti- tuted an astronomical observatory. The building was stuck over with thermometers and rain-guages. On the lawn was a wooden stage, which aflbrded access BOYHOOD OF CAVENDISH. 21 10 a large tree. All these were objects of mysterious interest and perplexity to the neighbors, who did not scruple to pronounce the owner a wizard. His ap- pearance and conduct were, in some degree, calcu- lated to give color to their suspicions. His dress comprised the frilled shirt-wrist, high coat-collar, and cocked hat, which had been fashionable in the days of his grandfather. His complexion was fair ; his features were small, but marked. He seemed to have no human sympathies, desired ever to be alone, shrank from strangers as from a pestilence, and avoided women with as much caution as could possibly have been exercised. Yet he was enormously rich, was looked upon as the most accomplished British philo- sopher of his time ; and his chemical researches, in- cluding those relating to the composition of water, had been prosecuted with so much skill and accuracy in devising and executing experiments, with so much caution and prudence in reasoning upon the conclu- sions to which they led, and with so much success in the result, that he was regarded as " the Newton of chemistry." Unlike the majority of men of science, he was of coble birth, claimed a duke for grandfather on both sides, and traced his descent through a long line of ancestors, from a lord chief-justice in the reign of Ed- ward III. His father was Lord Charles Cavendish, a son of the second Duke of Devonshire, and hia mother, Lady Anne, daughter of Henry Grey, Duke as CHEMISTS. of Kent. The latter was in bad health at the time of her marriage, and shortly after went to Nice, for the benefit of the waters, attended by her husband, and there Henry Cavendish, the future renowned chemist was ushered into the world, on the 10th of October, 1731. Soon after their return to England, Lady Anne died, and Cavendish was thus, at the earliest age, deprived of those maternal offices and influences, which might have obviated the peculiari- ties he afterward, and to the last, so prominently ex- hibited. There can be no doubt that his taste for science, which was his sole passion, only mistress, and absorbing pursuit through life, was inherited from his father, who was not only a philosophical experiment- alist, but a good mathematician, and in the last years of his life a senior member of the Royal Society, Cavendish was sent to a school at Hackney, kept by the Rev. Dr. Newcome, a sound classical scholar and a rigid disciplinarian, along with his young brother Frederick, a man distinguished alike by the eccentric ity of his habits, and remarkable for his excellence and benevolence of disposition. In the papers that remain in existence relating to this educational insti- tution, which was numerously attended by the chil- dren of the higher classes, consisting chiefly of plays acted by the boys, the name of Cavendish does not appear ; and, considering his habits in after years, it is more than i)robable that he was already musing in solitude, and, " with thoughts for armies," achieving BOYHOOD OF CAVENDISH. 213 tri umphs in those fields of science which he subsequent- ly preferred to the excitement of senates and the fas- cination of gilded saloons. He remained for several years at Hackney, whence he went directly to Cam bridge, and matriculated at St. Peter's College, in December, 1749. Here he- resided regularly till 1 753, when he left without taking his degree. Among his contemporaries were Gray, the poet, and that Duke of Grafton who occupies so unenviable a posi tion in the letters of Junius. After leaving Cambridge Cavendish went to Lon don, and appears at this period to have paid a visit to Paris, in company with his brother, with whom he had little intercourse in after-life ; for, thougti they were sincerely attached to each other, their tastes and habits were so utterly dissimilar as to pre- clude the possibility of very close intimacy. The following is the only conversation recorded between the brothers, and seems to confirm the statement of Cavendish having been the coldest and most indiffer- ent of mortals. On landing at Calais they took up their quarters at an hotel for the night. In retiring to bed they passed a room in which, the door being open, they observed a corpse laid out for burial, which produced on the younger brother that solemn feeling which prompted him next day to allude to the subject. " Did you see the corpse ?" he asked, with interest. "I did," was the cold, brief reply of the philoso- £11 CHEMISTS. pher, who, most likely, was already pondering sonne great chemical experiment. Cavendish's keen attachment to seientihc pursuits had not escaped the notice and regret of his relatives, who, being aware of his unquestionable talents, were anxious that he should take that part in public life v/hich men of his station and influence then experi- enced little difficulty in doing. It may reasonably be doubted whether his peculiai bent of mind would not have disqualified hitn, in a great measure from shining in the political world ; but, at all events, the experiment was not to be tried ; for, even at the hazard of their displeasure, he steadily and resolutely refused to be withdrawn from those congenial and beloved studies to which he had dedicated himself for better or for worse. This deci- sion, however, is understood to have subjected him to narrow pecuniary circumstances ; and it is related that, when he attended at the E-oyal Society, one of the very few places of public resort he ever ventured to appear in, his father used to give him the five shil- lings to pay lor the dinner there — not a fraction beyond the limited sum which it cost. It was not till he had reached the age of forty that he inherited that vast fortune which made a French writer describe him as the richest of all the Learned of his time, and the most learned of all the rich. It was after this that his most memorable chemical discoveries were either made or published. BOYHOOD OF CAVENDISH 215 His researches scon rendered him a conspicuous per- Bonag-e in the scientific circles of London ; he was a distinguished Fellow of the Royal Society, and a member of the French Institute ; yet he was so far from coveting fame, that he used every means to avoid it. But in spite of his efibrts he became an object of interest and admiration to Europe, even while he could not bear to be pointed out to any one as a remarkable man, and when he never went into society, except on the occasion of some christen- ing at the houses of his aristocratic kinsmen. Then his appearance was awkward, his manner nervous, his speech hesitating, and his voice sharp and shrill ; but, when he said any thing, it showed genius, and was always to the purpose. His love of solitude was \o great, and his aversion to commerce with his fel- low-men so inveterate, that even when the day of his dissolution arrived he insisted upon being left alone to die. He departed this life on the 24th of February, 1810, and was buried at All Souls' Church, Derby, leaving the world a rich legacy in the fruits of his scientific genius. BOYHOOD OF SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. Hardly has any one cultivated the science of chemistry with more briUiant success than the in ventor of the safety-lamp, who, in his earliest days, occupied his attention with those pursuits that led to his great fame, and entitled him to the everlasting gratitude of posterity. Davy was born on the 17th of December, 1788, at Penzance, in Cornwall, where the trade of a car- ver in wood was carried on by his father, many spec- imens of whose workmanship are still to be seen in the houses there. His forefathers had for a long period been in possession of a small property in the neighborhood, and it does not appear that this great and accomplished man was reared or educated in any thing like poverty or want — so apt " to cloud young genius brightening into day." He was placed at a preparatory school, and soon gave indication of his extraordinary talents, by the facility with which he could give an account of the contents of any book he read. His most prominent juvenile trait is stated to have been a propensity to shut himself up in his room, and arrange the furni- ture for an audience, which he found in his school- fellows, to whom he would deliver something like a lecture. He showed, even then, some taste for chem« ical pursuits, and, besides, indulged in the composi- BOYHOOD OF SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. 20 tion of romances, wrote verses, and acted in a play got up by himself; thus exhibiting something of that turn for diversified acquirements which distinguished him in mature manhood. He was next entered at the grammar-school of the Httle town; and, on re- moval from it, sent to finish his education under the auspices of a clergyman at Truro, who discerned his striking powers, and encouraged his taste for poetry. On the occasion of his family leaving Penzance to reside at Versall, he was left at Truro. The distance between the two places is about two miles and a half, through a country presenting a beautiful specimen of Cornish scenery. He was in the habit of making the little journey on the back of a pony or on foot, and, when he was able to handle a fishing-rod, he indulged in piscatory amusements, in connection with which he published his " Salmonia," a treatise on angling, a year before his death. At other times he roamed over the adjoining district, seeking for sport with his gun, and, no doubt, also meditating on sub- jects connected with those great discoveries for which the world is indebted to him. The district was, doubtless, well calculated to give his mind the scien- tific direction which it took at so early an age. " How often," said he to a friend, in after years, as ho gazed on a picture of one of the mines in his native district — " How often when a boy have I wandered about these rocks in search after new minerals ; and, when tired, sat down upon these crags, and exercised 218 CHEMISTS. rny fancy in anticipation of future renown." Noi was it long in corning. He cultivated a little garden of his own with great care, and took deligh: ^n collecting and painting birds and fishes. Thus passed the time till his sixteenth year, when he had the misfortune to lose his father ; but his other parent survived to witness, with proud satisfaction, his day of youthful greatness. In the course of next year he became the apprentice of a Penzance apothecary, and while in his employment underwent an extraordinary amount of study in re- gard to subjects connected with the medical profes sion, besides mathematics, languages, history, and science. lie spent much time experimenting in the garret of his master's house, which, with no small danger to the lives of the inhabitants, he turned into a laboratory, furnishing it with apparatus from the shop and kitchen. His first original experiment is stated to have been made " in order to ascertain whether, as land vegetables are the renovators of the atmosphere of land animals, sea vegetables might not be the preserver of the equilibrium of the atmosphere of the ocean." His instruments were, as may be conceived, of the rudest description ; but the contents of a case of surgical instruments, presented to him by the master of a French vessel wrecked on the coast, were eagerly and ingeniously turned to account in the experiments which his keen genius prompted him to make on heat, without guidance or 'jistruction BOYHOOD OF SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. 2ia from any one. His progress, meantime, in medical studies is said to have been so rapid, that he was soon intrusted with the management of the Pneuma- tic Institution. While he was pandering the propri- ety of going to study regularly for the profession in Edinburgh, Mr. Gregory Watt, who had come to lodge at his mother's for the benefit of his health, being well versed in science, directed his studies in regard to chemistry in such a manner as to quicken his ardent diligence ; and one day, when leaning on a gate, he fortunately made the acquaintance of Mr, Gilbert, who, being struck with his acquirements, was kind enough to show him a quantity of chemical apparatus, such as he had previously known only through the medium of books, or in dreams and vis- ions of the night. Subsequently, he introduced him to Dr. Beddoes, through whose influence he was appointed to the superintendence of the Pneumatio Institution at Bristol. AVhile thus situated, he con- ducted experiments fraught with the most important results, and published an account of chemical and philosophical researches, which made so great a sens- ation in the scientific world, and raised his fame so highly, that he was soon after called to the chemical chair of the Royal Institution. In 1803 he was elected a member of the Pvoyal Society ; he was knighted in 1812, and created a baronet in 1820, having three years before, given the safety-lamp to the world. In 1820 he became an Associate of thr- '^■^^) CHEMISl S. lloyal .Academy of Sciences at Paris, and, on the death of .Sir Joseph Banks, was raised to the presi- dency of the Royal Society. From the latter position he was obliged, by ill health, to retire, and, having betaken himself to the Continent, he died at Geneva, on the 30th of May, 1829. The labor and assiduity he employed in cultivat- ing the talent with which Providence had blessed him, and the industry with which he applied himself to the promotion of his favorite science, are eminently worthy of respect and imitation ; and the fame which gathers around his name may well incite the aspiring youth to emulate his perseverance, and follow in hia illustrious steps. CHAPTER vr Sailors BOYHOOD OF LOUD ST. Vlf'.rrj\r. This distinguished admiral was early insiilftvlt vvith a strong and invincible love of that service in which he was destined to occupy so high and splendid a position, and. with a determination that defied all dangers and overcame all difficulties in the pursuit of his objects. Study and self-denial, courage and perseverance, were the charmed weapons with which he fought his way from poverty and neglect to wealth and renown ; and they are precisely those which; under similar circumstances, will always be found most satisfactory and effectual in producing like re- sults. Hardly is any career more fraught with salu- tary lessons and suggestions to the young hero who dreams of naval glory and its appropriate rewards. John Jervis was born at Meaford, in the parish of Stone, on the 20th of January, 1735, of a family that had possessed considerable estates in Staffordshire, in the time of the Plantasfenets. He received the rudi- 222 SAlLOKtf ments, and, indeed, nearly the whole of his educalic* at a school in Burton-upon-Tient, which was evei after connected in his memory with the irritable temper and severe inclination of the master, which were by no means improved or softened by a shrew iGh wile. Young Jervis soon gave indications of his ability and industry, and was reckoned the best. Greek scholar in the school, so that he was selected to the honorable post of reading a passage from Homer before Mr. Slade, a great London distiller, Avho was desirous of ascertaining the progress and proficiency of the boys. He had been so well taught to " sing out," as it was expressively termed, that the loudness of his tone quite astonished Slade, who remarked, ranch to the lad's confusion and discomfiture — " You speak as if you spake through a speaking- trumpet sir." -This somewhat cruel interruption efiectually si- lenced the chosen performer of the Greek class, who did not soon forget the check of the redoubted extractei of spirits. In 1745, v/hen Prince Charles carried the standard of insurrection into iho iieart of the kingdom, all the boys at the school wore plaid ribbons sent them from home, to manifest their zeal and sympathy in his cause, with the exception of Jervis and Meux, after- ward the opulent brewer, w'ho both adhered utcad fastly to King George and the Protestant succession ; though branded as Whigs by their playmates foi BOYHOOD OF LORD ST. VINCE.M , 22s doing so, and frequently j^elteJ on account of their political leanings. The elder Jervis designed his sou for the profession of the law, of which he himself was a member ; but circumstances ere long forced him to forego his plan. Being appointed counsel to the Admiralty, and audi- tor of Greenwich Hospital, he removed thither from Stafl'ordshire, taking Avith him his son, who was placed at Swinden's academy, at Greenwich ; and thus had a new scene opened up to him, -which im- mediately produced a lasting impression on his mind, and imagination. His associates, among whom was the afterward famous Wolfe, being mostly of a naval character, he conceived a strong fancy for the sea. This was fed by his father's coachman, who unhesi- tatingly declared that all lawyers were rogues, and strongly advocated a naval career. Perhaps his parents were not of the same opinion. At all events, his entrance into the naval service was the result of his own determination, and so completely opposed to their views and wishes, that in order to accomplish it, he was obliged to take the perilous step of running away from school. His friends used their utmost authority, and made their best eflbrts to induce him to return, but without eflecling their object. His resolution to be a sailor was fixed and final ; and he exhibited an energy and decision on the subject which were quite in keeping with the subsequent charactei of the man. Seeing that his purpose was too firm to 221 SAILORS. be broken, and tliat all opposition must be futile, his parents wisely set themselves to the task of enabling him to carry it into execution under the most favor- able circumstances they could command. Accordingly, in January, 1748, at the request ol Lady Burleigh, Commodore Townsend consented to receive the youth into the " Gloucester," then fitting out for the West Indies. It is not stated whether he experienced that pang on parting with his rela- tives which saddened the first days at sea of his great contemporaries and compeei's. Nelson's distress was great ; and we are told of the noble-hearted CoUing- wood, that when, at the age of eleven, he entered the navy, he sat crying at the thought of leaving home, till noticed by the first lieutenant, who, pitying his tender years and evident emotion, spoke to him in such terms of kind encouragement, that he took the benevolent officer to his box, and in gratitude oflcred him a large part of a plum-cake his mother had given him at parting. Perhaps the ardor of Jervis was stronger than his feelings. In any case, having had the sum of twenty pounds to be expended in equip- ment and pocket-money, he sailed from Portsmouth in August, 1748. He was then little more than thirteen years of age; but, being of an active, energetic turn of mind, he at once perceived, on arrival in the harbor of Port Royal, that to remain on board the guard-ship was not the true sphere for a youth of active energies and BOYHOOD OF LORD ST. VINCENT. 224 of aspiring vein. He, therefore, always volunteered to be sent into whatever ship was going to sea, or by which any thing of importance was to be done, in- stead of reclining lazily on board under a tropical sun, or dissipating his time on the soil of Jamaica. When unavoidably in port, he devoted himself assid- uously to study, and thus acquired an immense amount of professional and general knowledge. He resisted the allurements of pleasure, and pursued his studies with a characteristic firmness, which indicated his naval ardor, proved his mental courage, and against which the temptations of Jamaica baths and "qual- ity balls" were equally ineffectual. Such voluntary achievements are much rarer among youths in his position than is desirable, and his example is well- fitted to teach the aspirant the true path by which honor and distinction are reached and retained. During the six years he served in the West Indies Jervis was, from the refusal of his family to make any allowance, so straitened in pecuniary matters as to undergo much inconvenience and considerable poverty — sometimes what might not unjustly be de- nominated want. But this proved, as it fortunately turned out, of inestimable importance in forming the man. It created a lofty and enduring spirit of independence, taught him the necessity and benefits of self-reliance, and originated that confidence in his own resources which contributed so much to his great success, to his country's service, and to his superiority P 2Zb Si^lLORS. among men. At one time he was compelled, in or« der to raise money, to sell Lis bedding and sleep on the bare deck. He usually made and mended, and always washed, his own clothes ; and, not having money to spend, his alertness to volunteer into other ships increased. In one of these cruisers he met with an old quarter-master who had been the mate of a merchant-vessel, and Avho gave the meritorious midshipman the only instruction he ever had in the science of navigation. In the autumn of 1754 Jervis returned to England in the "Sphinx;" and she being in a short period paid off, he was transferred to the "William and Mary" yacht, where he completed the required term of service for the rank of lieutenant. As yet he had seen no war-service ; but the time was fast approach- ing for him to mingle in its bloody and exciting scenes. Meanwhile he passed his examination for a lieu- tenancy with great credit, and soon after received his commission and orders to betake himself to Chatham and assist in fitting out the " Prince," intended as Lord Anson's flag. She was commanded by Captain Saunders, who, in a very short time, saw reason to entertain a high opinion of Jervis, and to bestow upon him the highest approbation. In February, 1755, he was appointed junior-lieutenant of the " Royal George," and next month transferred to the " Nottingham," one of the fleet with which Admiral BOYHOOD OF LORD ST. VINCENT. 22? Boscaweii was then dispatched from Portsmouth against the French force collected at the Isle ol Rhee. When Sir Edward Hawke was sent out to repaii our disasters in the Mediterranean, it was thought so extremely desirable that Captain Saunder? should be second in command, that a promotion was offectea for that purpose ; and so strongly had that officer, described by Lord Orford as " the pattern of most steady bravery, combined with most unafiected mod- esty," been impressed with the high qualities of Jer vis, that he, without being solicited, selected him as one of his followers. In March, 1756, when the " Dorchester" was at- tached to the Mediterranean fleet. Lieutenant Jervis was appointed to her, but soon after removed to the "Prince," in which Admiral Saunders' flag was then flying. The illness of an officer caused Jervis to be placed in command of the "Experiment," and gave him an opportunity of exhibiting his skill and courage against the " Xebeque," a French privateer, off the coast of Catalonia. Sir Charles Saunders being recalled from the Med- iterranean to be intrusted with the command of tho naval force that was sent to Quebec along with Sir James Wolfe, Jervis was chosen by the admiral to be first lieutenant of the " Prince," "which was again to bear his flag. He was subsequently promoted to the command of the " Porcupine" sloop, in which he 22S SAILORS. showed his usual sagacious vigilance, and immediately after the capt'we of Quebec he was dispatched to En- gland. In 1761 he was prompted to the rank of post- captain in the " Gosport ;" but she being paid off at the peace of 17G2, he did not serve again for six years. At the end of that time he was appointed to the " Alarm" frigate, when he courageously exacted ro- dress from the Genoese for an insult offered to the British flag, and liberated two Turkish slaves who had taken refuge under its protecting folds. He was soon after shipwrecked in the Bay of Marseilles. Having been appointed to the " Foudroyant," he was in the drawn battle with the French off Ushant, and was examined as a witness before the court-mar- tial held on Admiral Keppel at Portsmouth. In 1783 he was appointed commodore of an expedition destined against the Spanish West Indies ; but, on the subsi- dence of the American War into what was termed the "armed neutrality," the project was abandoned, and in the same year he was worthily elected member of Parliament for North Yarmouth. He took an earnest and active part in politics, and considerably increased his reputation by the readiness and facility with which he engaged in all discussions relating to his profession ; and in 1787 was promoted to the rank of Admiral of the Blue. At the commencement of the French Bevolution- ary war, he was one of the first officers called into active service, and he was named commander-in-cliiel BOYHOOD OF LORD ST. VINCENT. 229 of the squadron sent against the French West India islands. On returning to England he was invested with the command of the Mediterranean fleet ; and, after defeating the Spanish in a battle off Cape St. Vincent, he was created an earl, deriving his titlo from the scene of victory. In 1800 he took the com- mand of the Channel fleet, and the same year accepted office as First Lord of the Admiralty in Mr. Adding- ton's administration. In 1806 he resumed the com- mand of the Channel, but finally resigned it next year. He received from George IV. a commission as an admiral of the fleet ; and his last appearance in public was on board the royal yacht, on the occasion of the king's embarkation for Scotland. This brave old English admiral expired at his seat of Rochetts, on the 15th of March, 1823, in the nine- tieth year of his age ; having by self denial, persever- ance, valor, and resolution, enjoyed some of the high- est dignities of the state, and entitled himself to the lasting ^'eneration of its free subjects. BOYHOOD OF NELSON, To add to the greatness and glory of his country was ever the highest ohject of this most renowned liero's ambition ; and from his earhest youth he ex- hibited much of that dauntless spirit which afterward rendered him the pride of England and the terror of her foes. It was by no favoi: or patronage that he rose to his subsequent height of grandeur, but by doing his duty to his king and country with energy, determ- ination, and courage ; and it is because he acted in such a manner, that the hearts of Englishmen still swell with pride and gratitude at the recollection of his patriotic career and his glorious death. He was born on the 29th of September, 1758, at Burnham Thorpe, in Norfolk, of which parish his father was rector. His mother, whose maiden name was Suckling, was grand-daughter of an elder sistei of the great Sir Robert Walpole, and the infant, des- tined for such high renown, was namec' after his god- father, the first Lord Walpole. How natural courage and determination were to his heart, is proved by an anecdote related of his very earliest boyhood. When almost a child, he one day strayed from home, in company with a cow-boy, to seek birds' nests ; and, not making his appearance at the dinner-hour, the horrible suspicion occurred to the family that he had been carried ofl" by gipsies. Their BOYHOOD OF NELSON. 23) anxiety and alarm led to a most vigilant search being instituted, whereupon the future hero of the Nile was discovered sitting, with the utmost composure, by the side of a brook, which he found himself unable to cross. " I wonder, child," said his grandmother, when she found him restored in safety to the domestic circle, " that hunger and fear did not drive you home.' " Fear I" exclaimed the dauntless boy, " I never saw fear— what is it ?" This was, perhaps, the first flash of the high spirit and courageous genius afterward so signally display- ed on many a bloody and memorable day. When he was nine years old his mother died, and his uncle. Captain Suckling, of the Royal Navy, coming to pay a visit to the bereaved family, prom- ised to take care of one of the boys, though with no intention of its being Horatio, who was of a deli- cate constitution, and therefore not thought likely to distinguish himself on board a man-of-war. Perhaps the young hero himself had a very difierent opinion ; and one can imagine him at once concluding that he was to be the man, naming his miniature ship after that in which his uncle served, sailing it in some pond by his father's rectory, and feeding his mind with visions of such glorious sea-fights as he had heard and read of, in most of which he would no doubt figure as the conquering hero. He was sent, with his brother William, to bt educated at North Walsham, in his native county; t32 SAILORS. where, on one occasion, he showed the fearlessness and ambition of his nature in a way that won him the admiration of his school-fellows. In the school- master's garden some pears, which were looked upon as lawful booty, had pleased the eye and quickened the appetite of the boys, but grew in such a posi- tion that the boldest of them feared to venture for the tempting and tantalizing prize. Nelson, however, was not to be daunted ; so, having himself let down at night by some sheets from the bedroom window, he was drawn up again with the longed-for fruit, and distributed it among his school-fellows, without keeping any to himself, remarking, as he pouted his proud lip, that " he only took it because every other boy was afraid." An instance of his high sense of honor is narrated. Being at home for the Christmas holidays, he and his brother set off on horseback to return to school, but came back on account of there having been a fall of snow, which the elder brother said was too deep to admit of their venturing on the journey. Their father, who doubtless considered the circumstances suspicious, was inclined to think otherwise, and re- quested them to make another attempt, telling them to return home if they found the road really danger- ous ; but he added, "Remember, boys, I leave it to your honor." The snow was quite deep enough to have afforded a decent excuse, and master William, who did not BOYHOOD OF NELSON. 233 particularly rclisli the object of their journey, pro- posed and insisted that they should go back a second time ; but Horatio was not to be prevailed on. " We must go on," he said; "remember, brother, it was left to our honor," and proceeding, they reached their destination in safety. At twelve years of age he was again at Burnham Thorpe, spending the holidays along with his brother. Their father was then at Bath for the benefit of his health. Reading, in a local newspaper, that their uncle had been appointed to the " Raisonable," of sixty- four guns, Horatio requested William to wjite to his father, and say that he wished so much to go to sea with his uncle ; and William wrote according to his request. Mr. Nelson, who seems to have duly appreciated the determined and energetic character of the boy, had always said that, whatever his son's walk of life, he would do his utmost to get to the top of the tree. Still he could not but think that it was simply a boyish aspiration that prompted this choice of a pro- fession, and Captain Suckling considered him most unfit to " rough it out at sea." But who can say that the high-spirited and contemplative hero was not already indulging in those great hopes and high aspirings which made him, when a captain, exclaim that he would one day have a " Gazette" to himself? At all events it was resolved that he should try his fortune at sea , and on a cold, dark morning in spring 234 SAILORS. his father's servant arrived to take him from school, that he might join the ship, which was lying in the Medway. The parting from his brother and school- fellows was sad and trying, as such scenes usually are ; for early friendships are true and sincere, un like too many of those formed when the heart is hardened by the vanity, coldness, and deceit of the world, and "the milk of human kindness" dried up in those struggles which manhood so frequently brings with it. Nelson's father accompanied him to London, and put him into the Chatham stage-coach. On arrival he was set down with the other passengers, and, being in a strange place, was unable to find the ship. An officer, seeing him wandering about, and remarking his forlorn appearance, questioned him, and, being acquainted with his uncle, took him home, refreshed him, and directed him to the " Uaisonable." "When Nelson got on board Captain Suckling was not there, nor had his coming been intimated to any one ; so with a heavy heart he paced the deck all day un noticed, and it was not till the next that his presence attracted attention. Such was the reception met with by the motherless boy of tender age, sensitive heart and feeble frame, on that element on which he was destined to play so conspicuous a part ; whose sons he afterward inspired with a zeal hardly ever before equaled, and to whose sovereignty he was ero long gloriously to vindicate the claims of his country. BOYHOOD OF NELSON. i'H Hu never forgot the wretchedness which he felt dur- ing his first few days in the service ; and with true nobility of soul always strove to make matters more pleasant to those in a similar position. The " Raisonable" having been commissioned, on account of the dispute with Spain about the Falk- land Islands, was paid ofi' when it was settled ; and Nelson disdaining to be idle, went to the West Indies in a merchant-ship commanded by John Hathbone, an excellent seaman, who had formerly served under Captain Suckling as mate. Rathbone having, from Fome cause, conceived disgust with the navy, impress- ed Nelson with feelings of a like nature ; and though the latter returned from his voyage a practical sea- man, it was with strong dislike to the king's service. Captain Suckling received him on board the " Tri- umph," and took every means to eradicate his preju dice. The vessel was stationed in the Thames as a guard-ship ; and Nelson was promised a place in the cutter attached to the commanding officer's ship at Chatham, if he attended well to his navigation. Thus he acquired a confidence among rocks and sands, of which he often after felt the value. But such a life as that on board the " Triumph" M'as not sufficiently active or exciting for a youth born to aspire and to excel ; so, hearing that there were two ships fit- ting out for a voyage of discovery toward the North Pole, his love of enterprise prompted him to request thai he might be received as a sharer of the danjrer. There 23C SAILORS was some difficulty in his wish being granted ; but at length, by the influence of his uncle, he was taken as coxswain under Captain Lutwidge, second in com mand ; and the expedition sailed from the Norc on the 4th of June, 1773. The vessels encountered fearful perils, in all of which Nelson displayed his characteristic courage and resolution On making the land off Spitzbergen the ice became most alarm mg ; and the crew being sent to find a passage into the open water. Nelson was intrusted with the com- mand of one of the boats, with which he had the satisfaction of rescuing another, with its crew, from the attack of a number of enraged walruses. One night he and a companion secretly left the ship ; and early next morning he was observed in almost hand- to-hand conflict with a hiTge bear. He was on the point of striking the animal with the butt-end of his musket, when a gun, fired from the ship, frightened it away. On being severely reprimanded, and asked by the captain how he could venture upon so hazard ous an encounter, he answered, "I wished to kill the bear, that I might take its skin home to my father." On returning, the ships were paid ofT, and Nelson placed by his uncle on board the " Seahorse," bound for the East. During the voyage his good conduct attracted the attention of the master, on whose rec- ommendation the captain rated him as a midshipman. By this time he had gained considerable strength ; but, lifter eifjhteon months under an Indian sun, his health BOYHOOD OF NELSON. 237 completely gave way ; he was obliged to be brought home ; and, being intrusted to Captain Pigot of th° " Dolphin," he set sail for the land of his birth. His spirits had sunk vv'ith his strenglh, and an enfeebled I'rame and depressed spirits cast a shade over his soul. The discouraging thought that he should never rise in his profession w^as perpetually sweeping his mind and terrifying his imagination. But the darkest hour is ever before daybreak ; the most severe mental de- pression is often succeeded by renewed hope ; and it was after Nelson's gloomiest reverie, in which he pondered his want of influence, and the impossibility of reaching any point worth striving for without it, that a sudden glow of patriotism illumined his soul, and he exclaimed, " I will be a hero ! my king and country shall be my patrons I" From this hour he was no longer a boy. It was fresh in his memory to the last, and he always referred to it with pleasure and satisfaction. In it, his great soul swelled beyond and broke the chains that had encumbered its free action and checked its mighty impulses. By the kind care and attention of Captain Pigot he was landed on his native soil in comparative health, and found that in his absence his uncle had been made comptroller of the navy. Nelson was appointed acting-lieutenant in the "Worcester," then going to Gibraltar; and on the 8th of April, 1777, passed his examination for a lieu- tenancy, and next day received his commission as 238 SAILORS. second lieutenant of the " Lowestofle," fitting out fox Jamaica. Such was the early career of this illustrious man, whose name was in a few j'ears inseparably blended with his country's greatness and fame. " By this time to-morrow I shall have gained a peerage or Westminster .Abbey," he said to his offi- cers before the battle of the Nile. He was created a baron, and rewarded with a pension of £2000 ; and when an opinion was expressed in the House of Com mons that the rank should have been higher, Mr Pitt answered, •' That Admiral Nelson's fame would be coeval with the British name ; and it would be remembei'ed he had gained the greatest naval victory on record, when no man would think of asking whethei ne had been created a baron or an earl." After the battle of Copenhagen, in which he took and destroyed the Danish fleet, he was raised in the peerage to the rank of viscount. Four years after came his great, his last, and crowning victory, at Tra- falgar. Mortally wounded, he lived to know that the triumph was complete. The last guns fired at the fly- ing enemy were heard just before he expired, and his words were, " Thank God, 1 have done my duly I" The patriotic devotion he manifested, and the heroic ardor he displayed, have had their reward in the en- thusiasm which his splendid name gathers arouad it, and the veneration with which it is, and will long be regarded by all ranks and degrees of his countrymen CHAPTER XII Soibiers. BOYHOOD OF THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. If military glory is, as some would have us be- lieve, a mere empty sound, it is certainly a very potent one ; for it enters into the hearts of men, Btirs their blood, and evokes their energies. The names of those who have fairly won it by approved valor and splendid victories live long in a nation's heart, and exercise an influence of no mean or limited kind. The light of heroism has emblazoned no name in the page of history with more dazzling lustre than that of the illustrious Churchill. In the eye of his own generation he appeared so supreme, that the great- est of his contemporaries forgot his faults, which assur- edly are not overlooked at the present day. HoM'ever, the fame of the fair, bold, calm, tranquil hero, who rode coolly through the clouds of smoke at Blenheim and Ramilies, is fortunately built on too sure and solid a foundation to be seriously shaken by any at- •^40 SOLDIERS. tacks, however ingenious or powerful ; and at a period when, notwithstanding the humane, but rather an- achronistic eiforts of peace societies, it is far from cer- tain that the youth of England will not soon be call- ed upon to defend their free and sacred soil from the tread of armed foemen and ruthless invaders, a sketch of the earlier years of one who contributed so largely to the glory, grandeur, and supremacy of the empire can not be out of place. John Churchill inherited little more than the Nor- man name of a long line of knightly ancestors, whose progenitor had come to England with the Conqueror. His father. Sir Winston Churchill, had adhered to the cause of Charles I. with much fidelity, and sus- tained such losses in consequence, that he was greatly reduced in circumstances. He married a daughter of s^ir John Drake, said to have been connected with the famous admiral of that name, who, in the rei^n of Elizabeth, showed the way to the treasure-house of the Indies, circumnavigated the globe, and con- quered the Armada. This lady was, on account of inauspicious fortune, obliged to retire and live for years at Ashe, her father's seat in Devonshire where the hero of Blenheim was born, about noon, on the 21th of June, 1G50, and baptized two days after by the rector of Musbury, the parish in which his grand- father's manor-place was situated. Having thus found his way into the world in which \if -vas to pel form such mighty and imperishable BOYHOOD OF THK DUKE OF iMARLBOROUGH. 241 achievements, Churchill soon began to exhibit strong signs of the courage, energy, and determination, which led him on to fame and fortune. The renown of hid maternal relative and countryman, which was then fresh and familiar to every one's imagination, and ring ing in every one's ears, in conjunction with memor able deeds, may have exercised no slight influence iij fostering his warlike aspirations ; and in the library of the old hall he discovered an antique book on mil- itary subjects, over which he pored with much inter- est, and with an ardent longing to pursue a martial career. His education was conducted by a clergyman, probably the family chaplain, under the immediate inspection of his father, who, having particularly dis- tinguished himself at Oxford by his sedateness and studious application, and in after years by writing a work entitled "Divi Britannici," was, from his attain- ments, not unqualified to minister to the instruction of that son who was to make the name of Churchill immortal. It can not, however, be said that the young hero profited to any very marvelous extent; but, as time passed on, he became a tall, handsome and noble-looking boy ; and being carried by his father to London, was placed for a short while at St. Paul's School, where the plates in a work by Vegetius on the Art of War, attracted his notice and admiration. The old cavalier-knight, however, lost no time in tak- ing him to court, and had him appointed a page of honor to the Duke of York, whose favor he verv soou 842 SOLDIERS. won. lie immediately manifested his strong and easer taste for martial afiairs by his assiduous attend- ance on that Prince when he went to review the troops ; and on such occasions was wont to watch and admire the regularity of their discipline with an enthusiasm which did not escape observation. Per- ceiving the vehement inclination of his page for mili- tary spectacles, his master one day asked him what he should do for him as the first step to fortune, where- upon Churchill, with real earnestness, begged that lie might be honored with a pair of colors in the Guards. His Pi-oyal Highness was pleased to find that he had not mistaken the bent of the aspiring page's mind ; and, anxious at once to gratify his in clination and encourage his martial disposition, pro- cured him an ensign's commission in the Royal Regi- ment uf Foot Guards. Having thus, at the age of fifteen, gained his first and darling object, Churchill learned the rudiments of the military art, and laid the foundation of that knowledge on which he was to rear so mighty and towering a reputation. But his ambitious soul was by no means satisfied with the privilege of merely being a soldier; he seized the first opportunity of see- ing active service, and embarked for Tangier. Dur- ing the time he was quartered in that garrison he was in frequent skirmishes with the Moors, and be- came inured to the use of arms. He staid there for about a year, no doubt displaying that cool courago BOYHOOD OF THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 243 and intrepidity, which afterward had so important an effect on the destinies of Europe. In a few years he was made a captain in his own regiment, and went to France with the troops sent by King Charles to aid Louis XIV. against the Dutch. Of this expedition the leader was the unfor- tunate Duke of Monmouth, whose last and conclusive defeat at Sedgemoor, thirteen years later, Churchill, by his vigilance and generalship, was mainly instru mental in accomplishing. The French army was commanded by the king in person, and, under him, by the Prince of Conde and the Marshal de Turenne, two of the greatest generals of any age ; and Churchill had, therefore, no ordinary opportunity of acquiring skill and experience. The fruits of it are indelibly written in those splendid vic- tories of the British army that are indissolubly associ- ated with his glorious name, and proudly remembered by his countrymen to this day. He exhibited signal valor at the capture of several places, especially at Nimeguen, and was particularly noticed by Turenne, v»dio distinguished him by the title of " the handsome Englishman," by which he was known throughout the whole army. Churchill showed much anxiety, as he well might, to merit the attention he received from so great a general, and not only did his duty bravely at the head of his own company, but was always, when it was not in action, present as a vol- unteer in every enterprise of difficulty and danger 244 SOLDIERS One extraordinary instance of his gallant bravery is recorded. A French officer, being instructed to defend a pass, was so disheartened at the approach of a detachment of the enemy sent to attack it, that he immediately quitted his post. Advice being brought of this to Turenne, he turned to a general who stood near, and ollered to lay a wager " that his handsome Englishman would retake the position with half the number of men with which the other had lost it." His opinion proved correct ; Churchill boldly regained the post, won the marshal his wager, and was deservedly rewarded with the applause of the whole army. Next year his efforts at the siege of Maestricht, where he saved the life of the Duke of Monmouth, were so heroic, and the result of them so successful, that the French monarch made a public acknowl- edgment of his services at the head of the gallant army, and reported of him so favorably to the king of England, that on his return he was advanced to several places of trust and dignity. In 1681 he was made colonel of the only English regiment of dragoons then in existence, and married the fair and ambitious Sarah Jennings, who exercised so immense an in- fluence over Queen Anne. In 1GS2 he was created a peer of Scotland, and an English peer three years later, when he took his seat in the House of Lords. In 1G89 he was advanced to an earldom, two days before the coronation of William and Mary ; and, BOTHOOD OF THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 245 when war was declared against France, he com- manded their majesties' forces in the Netherlands, and afterward in Ireland. On the accession of Queen Anne he was proclaimed Captain-General of the Forces, and, as such, in the war against France and Spain, signally retrieved the ancient honor and renown of the nation. In 1702 he was elevated in the peerage to a dukedom, and in the years follow- ing fought and won the glorious battle of Blenheim, the most splendid, with the exception of Waterloo, of all modern victories. Following it, in brilliant succession, came those of Ramilies, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet. In 1704 he returned from his glorious campaign, with the commander-in-chief of the French army a prisoner in his train, and was rewarded with the honest acclamations of the people. The rebellion of 1715 aficrded him the last opportunity of taking an active part in military affairs ; and his arrange- ments for the security of the realm are said to have been admirably judicious and eminently beneficial. He died on the 16th of June, 1722, and his remains were laid with great funeral pomp in Westminster Abbey, from which they were afterward removed to the chapel at Blenheim. His career presents a brilliant instance of martial genius resolute perseverance, and calm courage, crowned with a success all but unparalleled in tho history of military achievements. BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE, When the island of Corsica was invaded by tha French, in 1767, a young lawyer of Italian extraction was residing in Ajaccio, its chief town. He laid claim to remote and illustrious lineage ; his person was handsome and his mind vigorous. He had mar- ried one of the most accomplished ladies who graced the island, and eventually had a family of thirteen children — eight of whom lived to find their name th<> terror and admiration of the world. When the in vasion occurred Charles Bonaparte, still in the prido of youth, abandoned his peaceful professional pur- suits, and eagerly grasping the weapons of war, united with his brother islanders to resist the foreign foe. His wife, Letitia, had then one son, Joseph ; and, though expecting shortly to give birth to another infant, she followed the fortunes of her husband, ac- companying him in all the perils and fatigues of that conflict, which terminated in Corsica becoming a province of France, and its inhabitants the invokm- tary subjects of the Bourbons. While civil war was yet desolating the wild, rugged, and picturesque little isle, the beauteous and high-spirited Letitia (having, in anticipation of her confinement, taken refuge in her town mansion), -was, on the 15th of August, 17G9, delivered of her second son, Napoleon, destined to be BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTL. 247 one of the mightiest and most dreaded conquerors whom the world has ever seen The pecuHar circumstances attending the infant- hero's birth naturally endeared him to his father, who often took him affectionately on his knee, and recited the bloody battles in which he had taken part These deeply affected Napoleon, and fed the warlike Epirit that was born within him. He mused from in- fancy over these struggles ; and his fancy conjured up ths sight of embattled hosts and routed foes, with the sound of roaring cannon and the groans of dying men. When he was a few years old he lost his father ; but not until the latter had observed indications of those wonderful powers that ere long made the kings of the earth fall before his military genius. Madame Bo- naparte was thus left a widow, with eight children and limited means. But her mental endowments were so great as to enable her to fulfill most credit- ably the duties devolving on her; and Napoleon used afterward to declare that it was by her training that they were fitted to act with dignity in those lofty and ambitious heights to which they in after-life attained She resided with her family at a delightful villa by the sea-shore, a few miles distant from the city. The approach to the house was bounded by high trees, and bordered with blossoming shrubs. In front was a smooth, pleasant lawn, on which the children were accustomed to pursue their sports, happily uncon- scious that they were ere long to fill such high piaces. «48 SOLDIERS. But he, the greatest of them all, and by whoso genius they were to be raised, was not there ; for his favorite and beloved resort was a lonely and roman- tic cave, still pointed out as " Napoleon's grotto," which was the scene of his early meditations. There he played fondly and contemplatively with a small brass cannon, whose sound and echo were as music to his ears as it startled for a moment his brothers and sisters, and hushed their merry voices. At other times, reclining in this dear and long-remembered re- treat, with a book spread befoi-e him, he would gaze musingly on the wide waters of the Mediterranean; and dream, not vainly, of future greatness and glory. Even at this season he manifested his disposition to rule, and even to act in a despotic manner so plainly that an uncle, as if presciently, remarked, "Joseph is the eldest of the family, but Napoleon the head." He hated the French with all his heart, and listened with bitter and tumultuous feelings to the narration of the severe woes which the Corsicans had suffered m defense of their insular rights and liberties. The story of his mother's liardships and sullerings, wlien she and her husband fled from village to fastness, and from the solitary place to the busy sea-port, with the brave but vanquished heroes of the soil, filled his eyes with tears and his heart with emotions. These marked the peculiar enthi siasm of his character, and the boldness with which he expressed his opinions speedily brought him into notice. ..te\sCMs!?^^^"i';\ -^■^^ NAPOI.KOX'S WARLIKE PREDTLEfTIOXS. BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE. 251 At the age of six he was placed at a school in the neighborhood, with a number of other children, among whom one fair-haired little girl quite capti- vated the heart of the future emperor. He used to walk to and from school leading her affectionately by the hand, much to the amusement of the oldei boys, who of course made very merry at his expense. Sometimes his anger would rise at what he conceived to be their insulting ridicule ; and he would attack them with every species of weapon, that chance threw in his way. He enjoyed another, and perhaps less enviable, distinction at this period — that of such extraordinary slovenliness that his stockings were al- most invariably about his heels. A juvenile wit threw the two peculiarities into a couplet, which was harass- ingly shouted about the playground in his hearing — '"Napoleone di mezza calzetta Fa I'amore a' Giacominetta." which being interpreted, is : " Napoleon, with his stockings half off", makes love to Giacominetta," — the name of the first object of the great conquei'or's af- iection. The Count Marboeuf, who on the subjuga- tion of the island had been appointed its governor, being impressed with the great beauty of Madame Bonaparte, her dignity of bearing and intellectual gifts, became a warm friend of the family, and took a special and lively interest in Napoleon, whose riso to extraordinary splendor he confidently predicted. By the influence of the Count, Napoleon was at the sge i52 SOLDIERS. of ten admitted to the military school at Brienne, ueai Paris. Oil parting from his mother the pang was so severe that he wept like an ordinary boy. On being established at school, he soon found that his associates, mostly sons of the proud, haughty, and exclusive noblesse of France, regarded him as a for- eigner, and treated him with an indiflerence whicli his sensitive spirit could ill brook. Indeed, he was touched to the quick with the indignities he met with, and laid, in mortification, the foundation of that pre- judice which he ever after entertained against men of high birth. His feelings, in this respect, at once led to his seclusion from the company of his fellow-stu- dents, and burying himself in books and maps, he soon acquired so much knowledge as to be looked upon and spoken of as the ablest, brightest, and most hopeful youth in the institution. He applied himself most par- ticularly to mathematics, but history and geography were, by no means, neglected ; while Latin and the ornamental studies received due and full attention. In German alone he could not be brought to take any interest ; and the teacher of that language, conse- quently and excusably enough, entertained a very poor opinion of his talents. On one occasion. Napoleon being absent from the class, the master, on inquiry, found that he was then employed in study at the class pf engineers. " Oh ! then, he does learn something," said the teacher, ironically. BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE. 25i " Why, sir," exclaimed one of the pupils, "he is esteemed the very first mathematician in the school." ■•Truly," replied the annoyed and irritated Ger- man, " I have always heard it remarked, and have uniformly believed, that any fool, and none but a fool could learn mathematics." In relating this anecdote in after-life, when Conti- nental Europe was at his feet, Napoleon laughingly remarked, " It would be curious to know whether M. Bouer lived long enough to learn my real character, and enjoy the fruits of his own judgment." Napoleon read poetry with great delight, and eagerly devoured books on history, government, and practical science It was by such means that he learned to " combine the imperial ardor of Alexander with the strategy of Hannibal." "Plutarch's Lives" were his favorite reading; and his whole soul became so imbued with the spirit of the illustrious men therein treated of, that when he made the acquaintance of Paoli, the veteran general, under whom his father had fought for Corsican liberty, was so struck with the decision and energy of char- acter he displayed, that on one occasion he rapturously and admiringly exclaimed, " Oh, Napoleon I you do not at all resemble the moderns — you belong only to the heroes of Plutarch." Each student at Brienne had a small plot of ground allotted to him, which he was allowed to cultivate or not, just as he pleased. Napoleon converted his into 854 SOLDIERS. a garden, in the centre of which ho constructed a con- venient bower, where he could study without the haz- ard of interruption. He gave his daj's and nights to mental toil, and his thoughts were wholly bent on military glory. In a letter to his mother, dated from this place, he said, " With my sword by my side, and Homer in my pocket, I hope to carve my way through the world." Many of his companions disliked him, but his character for honor and integrity commanded their respect. Yet he was high in favor with the younger boys, whom he was ever zealous to defend with courage and determination, against those of riper years and greater strength. One oi the ladies of Briennc was in the laudable habit of inviting the boys to supper at her chateau ; and on an occasion of the kind, the conversation turned upon the character of the illustrious Turenne. " He M'as certainly a very great man," said the lady of the house ; " but I should have liked him better had he not burned the Palatinate." " What signifies that," was Napoleon's too char- acteristic observation, " if the burning was necessary to the object he had in view ?" The winter of 1781 v/as one of unusual severity; and the boys being precluded from their ordinary walks and exercises by the fliU of snow. Napoleon proposed that they should beguile the time by erecting fortifi- cations of snow. On this plan being readily agreed to. he at once assumed the conduct of it. Indeed, he BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE. 2« nad so diligently studied the science, that, under his Buperintendence. the works were executed iu accord- ance with the strictest rules ; and so determined and overpowering was his strength of will, even at this early period, that no one thought for a moment of questioning his authority. One luckless boy did, in- deed, disobey orders, but Napoleon unhesitatingly felled him to the ground, inflicting a wound Avhioh left a mark for life. This year he was passed on to the military school at Paris, where he immediately brought himself into notice by addressing an energetic remonstrance to the governor against the luxurious and effeminate system that prevailed. He argued, certainly with some show of reason, that the student of military affairs should learn to groom his own horse, clean his own armor, and accustom himself to the performance of such duties as would be required of him for service in the field ; and it is a striking fact that the military school afterward established by him at Fontainebleau, was founded on the system recommended in this youthful memorial. Among the students he was rather un- popular ; but the diligence of his study, his powers of conversation, and the information he possessed, attracted much notice, and his intellectual superiority was readily recognized. Happening at this time to be at Marseilles on a iay of festivity, a large party of ladies and gentlemen svere amusintr themselves with dancing, but Napoleon 256 SOLDIERS. declined taking part in it. On being rallied Ibi hi? want of gallantry, he sternly replied, " It is not by playing and dancing that a man can be formed." The Abbe E-aynal became so forcibly impressed with his extraordinary abilities, as to invite him frequently to his house to meet learned and illustrious guests, and in after years introduced him to the brilliant drawing- rooms of M. Neckar, when embellished by the presence of his accomplished daughter, Madame de Stacl. At the age of sixteen, on being examined to receive a commission in the army, Napoleon passed the ordeal with so much triumph, that the historical professor wrote opposite his signature, " A Corsican by charac- ter and by birth. This young man will distinguish himself in the world, if favored by fortune." In consequence of this examination, he was, much to his joy, appointed second lieutenant of a regiment of artillery. That evening, proudly arrayed in hia new uniform, with epaulets and enormous boots, ho called on a lady with whom he was intimate, and who afterward became one of the most brilliant stars of the imperial court. A younger sister of hers being present, struck with his ludicrous appearance, pre- sented by his slender proportions being encased in military habits, laughed aloud, and declared that he resembled nothing so much as Puss in Boots. The raillery was acutely felt at the moment; but a few days after, to show that he had completely recovered from its eflects, he rcliinied to the hou^e, and pre BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE 257 Sented the mirthful damsel with an elegantly bound copy of the book from which she had drawn her rather severe allusion. Proud, and worthily so, of his commission, Napo leon betook himself to join his regiment at Valence. There he attracted the attention of one of its most distinguished ladies, Madame de Colorabier, who in- troduced him to much refined society. From Valence he was sent to Lyons, where he devoted himself to the acquisition of knowledge with remarkable energy and industry. The Academy having offered a prize for the best dissertation on the question, " What are the institutions most likely to contribute to human happiness ?" Napoleon wrote on the subject, and was successful in his efforts against numerous competitors. He also prepared a "History of Corsica," which he visited in 1791 ; but the storms that appeared on the political horizon prevented him from publishing it. He was at Paris in 1792, when the Tuileries were attacked and the Swiss guards massacred, and took occasion to express his disgust with the scene. It is unnecessary to sketch the next eeven years of his life, which, indeed, would be the history of the world during that period. He was declared First Consul in December, 1799, and Chief Consul for life in 1802. Two years later he was proclaimed Emperor; but was deposed, and his dynasty declared at an end, in IS 14, when he was sent to Elba. R 258 SOLDIERS. Escaping, he arrived at Paris ; and on the 18th of June, 1815, he fought the decisive battle of Waterloo when, being totally defeated, he was banished to St. Helena. There he died on the 5th of May, 1821, without pain and in silence, during a convulsion of the elements. The last words he stammered out were, " Army" and " France ;" but whether it waa intended as an adieu could not be ascertained. CHAPTER XIII. illusicitttts. BOYHOOD OF HANDIIL. Music, it seems, is an attainment denied to v/cll- directed perseverance, and dependent, in a great measure, on certain original qualities, which are not to be acquired ; but still application in the case of those on whom the precious gift has been bestowed, is not, on that account, by any means unnecessary. George Frederick Handel was, perhaps, the great- est melodist and musical composer whom Providence has ever endowed with talents to delight and enrap- ture his fellow-creatures. His works, as has been remarked, arc so numerous and different in their kind, as to elude all save general criticism ; but cer- tainly it is impossible to listen to them, without ex- periencing emotions of the most exquisite kind. He was born at Halle, in Upper Saxony, on the 24th of February, 1GS4 ; and almost in infancy, dis- played his wonderful taste and extraordinary capacity for music. Michael Kelly relates of himself, with /X,0 MUSICIANS his usual richness of humor, that, when three years old, he was accustomed to be placed on his father's tahle, along with the wine, to sing for the entertain- ment of his guests, and was thus led to cultivate the talent with which nature had blessed him ; but Han- del's sublime genius had no such encouragement. That— " Music liath charms to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak," would probably and naturally have been pleaded in vain to his father, an eminent physician, who was anxious to bring up his son to the profession of the law. At all events, he showed no sympathy with the enthusiastic boy's innate passion. On the con- trary, he endeavored to repress it by every means in his power — especially by sending every thing in the shape of a nmsical instrument out of the house. Young Handel's potent genius was not, however, to be thus baffled or subdued. He enhsted the aid of a trusted servant, with whose assistance he continued to indulge and dehght in his musical prepossessions. At the top of the house was a solitary garret, which became the scene of his juvenile eflbrts. There he kept a small clavichord, an instrument in the form of a spinet, with strings so covered with litlle pieces of cloth as to deaden or soften the sound. Upon this, he carefully and industriou.sly jiracticed every evening, after the other members of the family had botaken themselves to repose. Thus he became liOVHOOl) OF HAJNDiLL. iiGl d proficient in harmony, without the advantage of any instruction whatever. For years he carried on this systenn ; and the extent of his accompHshments was first brought to light by his strong and absorb- ing interest in music and musical instruments. An elder brother being in the household of thw Prince of Saxe-Weissenfels, Handel was, at the age of seven, taken by his father on a visit to the ducal palace. While wandering through the apartments, he could not withstand the temptation of touching with his fingers the notes of tlie harpsichord, the very sight of which had an irresistible fascination for him. Happening to arrive at the royal chapel just as the service M'as concluding, he stole into it unper- ceived, and commenced playing npon the organ. The rich sounds he drew from its notes came just in time to reach the ears of the prince, as he was cere- moniously retiring ; and he immediately inquired who was playing. Handel's brother, being in attend- ance on the occasion, turned back to ascertain ; and finding, with surprise, who the person was, commu- nicated the intelligence to his master, adding that the performer was only seven years old. The prince then requested, that both father and son should be brought to his presence ; and the interview resulted in Handel being placed for tuition under the organist of Halle cathedral. The latter, with creditable discernment, allowed the young musician to form his own style, according to the promptings of his young 262 MUSICIANS. genius, furnishing iiira, at the same time, with assist- ance in every way calculated to contribute to his improvement in the science. In this kind of disci- pline he remained for two years ; and so rapid had been his progress, that when that period came to a conclusion, he was qualified to officiate, now and then, as organist for his instructor, and occasionally to furnish compositions for the church service. Thus passed the time till he was fourteen. It was then deemed advisable that he should pro- ceed for further instruction to Berlin, where he was accordingly sent, and there he made the acquaintance of Attilio and Bononcini, who were afterward his rivals on English ground. The former behaved to the boy with great kindness and encouraging famili- arity ; but the other assumed toward him a sullen and supercilious bearing. It must be confessed, however, that Handel had his revenge more than twenty years later, in that great musical contest^ in which Handel was declared the victor. It was thus alluded to by Swift : " Compared with Signor Bononcini, Some say that Handel's a mere ninny, Others assert that he to Handel Is scarcely fit to hold a candle." The Dean, with his wonted ability and bitterness, adds : " Strange, such a difference there should ba 'Twixt tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee " BOYHOOD OF HANDEL. 263 Meantime the King of Prussia treated the young musician with marked attention, often desired to see him at the palace, and kindly expressed a wish tc send him to Italy. But Handel thought fit to decline the tempting offer, and returned to his native city. Soon after this his father died, and Handel set off for Hamburg, where he supported himself by the exer- cise of his musical talents. It was some time, how- ever, before he had a fitting opportunity to display them to full advantage before the public. At length, on the occasion of the first harpsichord- player of the opera being absent, Handel was pre- vailed upon to perform instead of him, and exhibited his mighty power over a keyed instrument so sig- nally, that he was loudly applauded, and when a va- cancy occurred he was at once appointed to the office in preference to the second harpsichord-player. The latter was so vehemently enraged at the circumstance, that one evening, taking Handel out of the orchestra, he drew his sword, and attempted with one thrust to put a period to the existence of his successful rival. Handel's life was providentially saved by the weapon breaking against a metal button on his coat ; and from that date he had the entire management and control of the performance. He shortly after, with great suc- cess, brought his first opera " Almira" upon the stage ; it had a run of no less than thirty nights. On the invitation of the Grand Duke he next paid a most satisfactor} visit to Florence, from which he 864 MUSICIANS. went to Venice — his reputation steadily increasing After this he took up his residence under the patron- age of the Elector of Hanover, afterward George the First of England. The latter country he visited in 1710, when he composed the music to " E-inaldo" in the short space of a fortnight. So rapidly, indeed, did his ideas flow that he hardly gave the author of the play time to write. Two years later he settled in England, and thereby gave great offense to the Elec- tor, who, on ascending the English throne, was with difficulty prevailed upon to receive Handel into favor. The intercession of a German baron, who planned a water excursion, and contrived that Handel should surprise the royal barge with a piece composed for the purpose, effected a reconciliation; and the great melo- dist continued, with brief intervals, to reside in this country during the remaining years of his life. His "Messiah" was first produced at Covent Garden in 1741, under the title of " A Sacred Oratorio;" but it was not till the next year that it met with the ap- plause and admiration which it merited. Handel made his last public appearance in the spring of 1759, and, dying soon after, was buried in Westminster Abbey. A statue of him, graven by the careful and delicate hand of Roubiliac, bears on a scroll the words, " I know that my Redeemer liv- eth," with the notes to which the words are set in hie Kublime oratorio BOYHOOD t)F MOZART This great musical composer was a wonderful in« stance of precocious genius. From his earliest years he was devoted to the art which occupied his atten- tion to the last hours of his life. His display^ when a simple and innocent child appear to have been quite marvelous ; while the indefatigable industry with which, unallured by the enthusiastic praises bestow- ed on them, he continued to cultivate his extraordi- nary powers, reads an instructive and edifying lesson in regard to the true means for the attainment of ex- cellence. With a success in swaying the hearts of others which would have intoxicated many, especially at so early an age, he continued meek and gentle ; and so little was he elated with his splendid achieve- ments that within a few hours of his death, he mod- estly remarked, " Now I begin to see what might be done in music." The grandfather of this musical prodigy was a book- binder in Augsburg ; his father was one of the court musicians at Salzburg. The latter on being settled in life wedded a fair damsel belonging to the city of his adoption ; and the newly-married pair were so conspicuous for their beauty that a handsomer couple, it was remarked, had never been seen on the banks of the Salza. In the year of Wolfgang's birth his father published a work, entitled, " An Attempt to- 2b6 MUSICIANS. ward a Fundamental System for the Violin," which was much valued. John Chrysostora Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born at Salzburg, then esteemed one of the finest cities in Germany, on the 27th of January, 1756. His father Leopold enjoyed considerable reputation as a musician, and the whole family had a natural turn for the art with which their name is now so inti- mately connected. The young Wolfgang was there- fore favorably situated for the development of the faculty, with which he was gifted to so surprising a degree ; but at first gave himself entirely to the games which usually interest children in the first two or three years of their lives. Indeed so enthusiastic was he in pursuing his play, that he even sacrificed his meals to indulge in it with the greater freedom. He was remarkable beyond others for his sensibility and aflection, and sometimes would ask his parents ten times a day, "Do you love me much?" and if they jestingly replied in the negative he would seek relief in a flood of tears. His elder sister in her seventh year gave indications of those taleirts which afterward raised her fame so high as a performer on a keyed instrument. Her musical education commenced when Mozart had nearly reached the age of three, and it was his delight to be present at the lessons she re- ceived, and to attempt with his tiny fingers to strike thirds or other harmonious intervals on the clavier, a keyed instrument wl; ich was the precursor ?f the BOYHOOD OF MOZART. 267 piano-forte. At four he could retain in his memory the brilliant solos in the concertos, which he learned; tiis father began, half in sport, to give him lessons ; and he composed little pieces which were written down for him. He had already learned to play sev- eral minuets on the harpsichord ; and it was his good fortune never to forget an air when he had once mas- tered it. His childish gambols gave way to the bright aspirations that sometimes animate opening boyhood. He required but half an hour to be perfect in a minuet, and for other pieces a proportionate period. Having experienced pleasure in the harmony of others he im- mediately became a composer himself, and such had been his progress that at the age of five he had com- posed several pieces of music, trivial in themselves, it is true, but justly regarded as miraculous for sc young an aspirant, by those who marked the results of his daily efforts. It is not altogether certain that the specimens held up as such were actually his first attempts, otherwise it would be highly interesting to mark the first glimmerings of that genius which after- ward accomplished so much. No pastime could now interest or amuse him that was not in some way con- nected with his favorite pursuit ; and it was a great matter with the circle to contrive such games as ad- mitted of his joining in them with the violin or other instrument. His musical talents were not, however, cultivated to the exclusion of the other branches of •education, to M'hich he applied himself for some time iJGS MUSICIANS. with great diligence, and conceived a strong love fol arithmetic. His energy and determination were such that whatever he undertook was sure to be accom- phshed, so that he profited considerably by the slight general education he received. His father, who, unlike Handel's, had regarded the wonderful precocity of the boy with great gladness, carried him along with his clever sister to the Bava- rian court at Munich in 17G2, when Wolfgang, giv- ing up every other pursuit, obeyed the law of his nature, and commenced his brilliant career. From this time his efforts never slackened. At Munich they remained a few weeks, and then returned. Having met with a courteous and kind reception from the Elector, and promises of support and pa- tronage, he resumed his studies with great ardor and diligence. One day, his father, on returning from church with a friend, found his son occupied with writing, and asked — " What are you about there ?" " I am composing a concerto for the harpsichord ; I have almost finished the first part," replied the boy. " Let us see this scrawl.' " No ; if you please. I have not yet finished it." It seemed, indeed, so much of a scribble, and so illegible from the blots of ink, that at first it only excited laughter ; but Mozart's father having exam- BOYHOOD OF MOZART. 26G ined it with closeness and attention, remarked to hi3 friend — " See how exactly it is composed by rule ! 'Tis a pity we can not make out something of this piece ; but it is too difficult. Nobody could play it." " It is a concerto," observed Mozart ; " and should be well studied before being performed. See, this is the way you should begin I ' And commencing to play it, he succeeded sufficiently to discover his idea. Indeed, it consisted of a number of notes, placed ex- actly according to rule, but presenting such difficul- ties, that the most proficient musician would in vain have attempted to execute them. In his sixth year, Mozart began to elicit sounds from the violin, which many a practiced and profes- sional performer might have envied. One day a cel- ebrated violinist came to his father to ask his opinion of six trios, which he had just composed. It was agreed that they should be tried, and that the elder Mozart should play the bass, the composer himself the first A'iolin, and the Archbishop's trumpeter, who happened to be present, the second ; but the young Mozart insisted so strongly on taking this last part, that his father Avas finally induced to yield to his im- portunity and consent to his performing on his little violin. The father, who had not previously heard him play on this instrument, was astonished and de- lighted to find that he executed the six trios with great success. ?70 MUSICIANS. In Septrtnber, 1762, the Mozart family removed to Vienna, where they received a gracious welcomo from their Majesties ; and Wolfgang soon became a favorite at the Imperial court, which was quite charmed with his remarkable skill. One day the Emperor said to him in joke, " You do not find it difficult to play with all the fingers ; but to play with one finger, and the notes out of sight, must indeed excite admiration." Without manifesting the slight- est surprise at such a proposal, the boy immediately began to play with one finger, without finding any difficulty in maintaining his usual precision. This flattery bestowed upon him, and the splendor in which he moved, had not the effect of spoiling him in the slightest degree. On the contrary, he was a most patient and submissive boy ; and throughout continued most amiable and tender-hearted. Ho never appeared out of humor with the commands of his parents, no matter what their nature might be ; and, even after he had practiced music nearly the whole day, he would continue to do so without the slightest marks of impatience, if such was their wish. When Wolfgang had completed his seventh year the whole family left Salzburg for Paris. His fam? had preceded him, and the name of the innocent and aflectionate German boy was already celebrated in the bright and airy city of the Seine. Being intro- duced by the lady of the Bavarian embassador, ho BOYHOOD OF MOZART. 271 forthwith received an invitation to Versailles, gave an organ performance in the chapel with his wonted success, and received the rapturous applause of the magnificent and voluptuous court. Two grand con- certs were likewise given hefore the public. The Mozarts had their portraits taken, and poems wero written upon them. About this time he first appeared in print as the author of two sets of sonatas, one dedicated to the King's daughter, and the other to the Countess Tesse. The former acknowledged the compliment by the gift of a gold snufT-box, while the Princess presented him with a silver standish and pens. In the April of next year, they left for England, and took up their residence in London. Here Mo- zart's efforts were again rewarded with the praise of a court ; but this time, that of the people was deserv- edly added to it, and the performances of himself and his sister caused enthusiastic admiration. During his sojourn Mozart produced six sonatas, which were dedicated to the Queen, and published in London. Leopold found this visit much more profitable than any of the former had been, and he wrote to his friends at home in terms of gratified pride. In the course of 1765, he returned with his children to France, and traveled through the greater part of it, the young musician trying most of the organs in the churches and monasteries that lay in their path. Leaving the territories of the French King, they con- 272 MUSICIANS. tinued tlieir journey into Holland. At the Hague Mozart composed a symphony for a full orchestra, to celebrate the installation of the Prince of Orange. Here both brother and sister were seized with an ill- ness so severe as to threaten the lives of both ; but happily they recovered, and were soon sufficiently re- stored to undertake a short visit to Paris, from which they went to their native home on the banks of the Salza, and Mozart enjoyed an interval of peace and repose. This could not but be welcome and agree- able after the formality and glitter to which he had lately been accustomed, and it was pleasantly passed in the study of such masters as w'ere deemed fitting guides for his own future compositions. An amusing anecdote is told of him, relating to this period. A pompous gentleman, visiting the family on their return, Avas extremely perplexed how to address the young musician : and not knowing whether to do it in the respectful or familiar style, took a middle course : "And so ICC have been in England and France, and have been at court, and have done ourselves much honor," said he, playfully. The little hero felt his dignity touched, and reijlied, " Yet I never remember to have seen you any where else but at Salzburg." In 17C8 the Mozarts again performed at Vienna before the Emperor, but the lame Wolfgang liad acquired in his progress through Europe had raised BOYHOOD OF MOZART. 273 the fears and jealousy of the musicians of the impe- rial city, who conspired and concerted a discreditable scheme for destroying his reputation. The Emperor had, some time before this conspiracy came to light, proposed an opera to his young protege, and the elder Mozart, thinking it was a grand idea for a boy of twelve to compose an opera and direct it himself, en- tered readily upon the project as promising lasting and crowning glory to his son. In a few days the opera was ready ; but delays, excuses, and stratagems, pre- vented it from ever appearing. Mozart bore so bravely the unworthy slanders of jealous rivals, that in little more than a month he had added very considerably to his compositions, enjoyed the public applause, and returned to Salz- burg. Once more in his native home, he applied himself to the highest branches of the study of his art, and devoted some time to the Italian language. In 1769 he was appointed concert-master to the Archbishop ; and though the appointment was neither very profit- able nor honorable, it turned his attention to the composition of masses, and most of his were composed while he held it. In the December of the same year he went with his father to Italy, where he found an audience ready and willing to recognize and appreciate excellence. He first appeared at Milan, and justified his wide- spread fame. The Milanese, conscious of the treas* S 274 MUSICIANS. lire they had among them, could not think of alloW' ing them to depart without the promise of a speedy return, and he left, after having promised to compose the first opera for the carnival of 1771. At Florence he excited unbounded admiration, and thence went to E-ome, where he arrived in Passion Week. The celebrated " Miserere" was to be per- formed, and among the rigors of the Papal Court it had prohibited the issue of a single copy. Aware of this, Mozart, when at the chapel, listened so atten- tively that on returning home he Avas able to note down the whole piece. On Good Friday the same " Miserere" was executed, and he was again present dm-in"- the performance, and made the necessary cor- rections in his manuscript. This wonderful feat was the subject of astonishment and admiration through- out Fvome ; but the greatness of the efibrt can only be fully appreciated by such as are acquainted Avith the mysteries and difficulties of the art. Subsequently he sang the " Miserere" from his manuscript in a manner that those most competent to judge declared faultless. Mozart found a friend and patron in the Pope, who, in recognition of his genius, created him a Knight of the Golden Spur. Bologna testified her admiration by naming him a member of the Phil- harmonic Academy, and the composition required of every member on election was completed by him in bilf-an-hour. BOYHOOD OF MOZART. 2/6 True to his engagement to the Milanese, he re traced his steps to their city, and had what at that time Avas considered the highest honor a musician could enjoy — the privilege of composing the first opera scria for the E-oman theatre. Two months after his arrival, the results of the labor he had un- dergone during them were given to the public in the form of an opera, entitled " Mithridates." It was played for the first time in December, 1770, Mozart having then almost completed his fifteenth year. It had a run of twenty nights, and quite captivated the public. Three years afterward Mozart presented the Milanese with another opera, which was even more successful than his previous production. His fame had now spread from one end of Europe to the other ; and at nineteen years of age, when his eventful boyhood may be said to have closed, he could make choice of any capital in which to establish him- self Paris was selected by his father as apparently the most aj)propriate, and accordingly the marvelous Wolfgang journeyed thither, accompanied by his mother. He returned, in 1779, to his father's houise, and died in his thirty-sixth year, much lamented by &1] who knew him. CHAPTER XIV. Painters. BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. A POET, With lofty but unrealized aspirations — an innkeeper, with a tantalizing habit of deluging his customers with recitations before he supplied them with liquor, was the father of this great painter, who gave sure promise of his future excellence at a time of life usually devoted to playing at marbles, or making vain essays to fly kites — who, at ten, had won a wide-spread celebrity, and who, "by the magic of his art," has preserved for posterity the likenesses of so many talented men and beautiful women. Old Lawrence had been an orphan almost from infancy, and had early conceived the idea that he was destined to be a poet of renown. In his sixteenth year he was articled to an attorney in Hertfordshire ; and having a small patrimony, on the expiration of his stipulated time of service, he was offered a share of his employ. er's business ; but with the temperament of a poet, he chose rather to indulge in a to'ii-, with the purpose BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAW HEM CE. 277 of visiting some of the most interesting parts of the country, in the company of a friend, who doubtless had "thought, feeling, taste, harmonious to his own." Having penetrated into Worcestershire, Iiawrence was so captivated with the surpassing beauty of Tenbury in that county, that he determined to halt there for a short time to indulge in his poetic reveries and practice versification. While passing the hours away in this manner, and feeding his mind with the images of great days in store for him, he became vio- lently enamored of a young lady of the neighborhood. This was Miss Read, of Brockett Hall, whom he secret- ly married, much to the vexation of her parents, who, on becoming aware of the fact, indignantly banished her from their presence. This was no agreeable circumstance for the loving couple, and doubtless apprised the youthful and as- piring poet that there was something more than ro- mance m life. However — "The world was all before them, where to chose Their place of rest ; and Providence their guide." So they set off for Thaxted, in Essex, where they took a small house, and were blessed with several children. Mr. Lawrence subsequently, by the influence of his wife's relations, obtained the supervisorship of Excise at Bristol, and in that ancient city his dis- tinguished son was born, on the fourth of May, 1769, IS 27i3 FAINTEKS. the youngest of sixteen children. In the same year the father resigned his appointment in the Excise, and took the White Lion Inn, from which he short- !y afterward removed to the Black Bear at Devizes. Here he is stated to have worried the temper of h customers by reciting Shakspeare in and out of season, ind without the slightest regard to their wishes. Not content with displaying his own powers in this vvav, he labored to infuse into his son a love of the same sort of performance, an object in which he ere lono- succeeded ; and such was the versatility of his talents, that the visitors to the Black Bear, on having the young prodigy presented to them, were asked, •' Will you have him recite from the poets or take your portraits ?" When Lawrence was four years old, he could read the story of Joseph and his brethren with great efiect, and soon after recite some pieces from Pope with taste and feeling. Besides his skill in copying and draw- ing portraits became so apparent, and so delighted was the worthy innkeeper with these accomplish- ments, that he never failed to bring them under the notice of any persons of distinction who happened to Bojourn at the Black Bear. During his seventh and eighth years, Lawrence attended a school at Bristol, and the instruction he then received, with some lessons in Latin and French liom a Dissenting minister, was all the education be- stowed upon a man, whose manners according to the BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 279 authority of Georfie the Fourth, were those of a high- bred gentleman. Wlien he was six years old, Lord and Lady Kenyon arrived one evening at the inn, after a fatiguing journey. The host, forgetful of the atten- tion ordinarily paid to guests under such circum- stances, at once entered the room, and begged per- mission to introduce his son, whereupon Thomas rushed in, and commenced a noisy canter round the apartment, much to the surprise of the travelers, However, if any feelings of annoyance were produced by it, they speedily gave way to those of interest, as the boy gave signs of his singular and precocious talents. "Could you take the portrait of that gentleman f asked Lady Kenyon, pointing to her husband. "That I can, and very like, too," answered the boy-artist as he obtained the materials to fulfill his boast. In half an hour he finished a portrait, which greatly astonished them, after which he took that of the lady, with such success, that it was recognized twenty-five years afterward by a fiiend of hers, on account of the likeness. By such means Lawrence's talent for recitation and skill in "drawing became widely known ; and so great was his fame that a por trait of him was engraved by Sherwin for publication. He now visited the picture-galleries of the neigh boring gentry, and among others that of Corsham House, whose owner, INIr. Methven was among hia iSO I'AIiNTERS. early patrons,, While wandering through the apar^ meats, the friends who had accompanied him, dazzled with the splendor of the place, lost sight of him. When discovered, he was standing, lost in admiration, before a picture by Rubens, and on leaving it, ex- claimed with a sigh full of meaning, " Ah I I shall never be able to paint like that." In 1799 Mr. Lawrence and his family removed from, Devizes to Weymouth, and so unquestionable already was the fame of his son that in passing through Oxford he was stopped and beset with ap- plications for portraits. His sitters included several very eminent men ; he was patronized by the heads of colleges, and his productions were considered mar- velous for one so young and uninstructed. Daines Barrington thus writes of him in February, 1780, " This boy is now nearly ten years and a half old ; but at the age of nine, without the most distant instruc- tion from any one, he was capable of copying historic- al pictures in a masterly style ; and also succeeded amazingly in compositions of his own, particularly that of ' Peter denying Christ.' In about seven minutes he scarcely ever failed of drawing a strong likeness of any person present, which had generally much freedom and grace if the subject permitted. He is likewise an excellent reader of blank verse, and will immediately convince any one that he both un- derstands and feels the striking passages of Milton and Shakspcare." BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 281 In 1782 the Lawrences removed from Oxford to Bath, M'here a rapid increase of fame and employ- ment enabled Thomas to raise his price from one guinea to two, and in a short time to four. His studio became the resort of the noble and the learned ; he was welcomed wherever he went ; Sir Henry Harpur proposed to adopt him as his son ; Prince Hoare saw something so angelic in his face that he wished to paint him as Christ ; and the experienced artists of the metropolis heard with wonder of a boy, who was eclipsing their celebrity and rivaling their finest efforts. Meantime he had procured access to the valuable collection of paintings possessed by the Hon. AV. Hamilton, and made some copies from Pi-aphael and others, for which his father refused three hundred guineas. It began to be evident that his genius was as yet in its dawn, and that it would assuredly shine with the brightness of perfect day. Noble lords and right reverend prelates now came forward to encourage, befriend, and patronize him , while among his lady patronesses he could count the beautiful and accomplished Duchess of Devonshire, who employed him herself and introduced him to her friends. Lawrence worked diligently, and regularly completed three crayon portraits a week. His plan was to see four sitters a day ; to draw half an hour from each, and as long from memory after their departure. Memory, indeed, was one of the great aS2 PAINTERS. elements of his success, and about this period he gave strong proors of his capacity. Miss Shakspeare, whc at that time was considered the greatest beauty on the stage, was performing at the Bath theatre ; and Lawrence was so enchanted with her exquisite love- liness, that he, next morning, drew a remarkable likeness of her from recollection. In like manner he furnished a portrait of Mrs. Siddons as Aspasia, in the " Grecian Daughter," which was afterward en- graved and extensively sold. Lawrence himself had been led, from his habit of reciting, to feel some in- clination toward the stage ; but his father contrived that Bernard and other comedians should receive a display of his abilities with such coldness, that he was efi'ectually weaned of the idea. At thirteen Law- rence had become one of the most popular portrait- painters in the kingdom ; but this did not delude hia mind or mislead his imagination. On the contrary, his success spurred him on to severe study and patient labor ; he was not dazzled by the glitter of early fame, but rather found in it the inducement to con- tinue his exertions. In his seventeenth year he began to paint in oil, his first subject being a whole-length figure of Christ bearing the cross. Unfortunately this painting has been lost, and its merits, as a work of art, are unknown. His second attempt in oil waa a portrait of himself somewhat in the style of Bern- brandt. The following extract from a letter, which he a BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 28S {his time wrote to his mother, is, in many respects, extremely interesting : " I am now painting a head of myself in oil, and i think it will be a pleasure to my mother .to hear it IS much approved of Mr. P. Hoare called on rae ; when he saw the crayon-paintings he advised nie to pursue that style ; but after seeing my head, and telling me of a small alteration I might make in it, which was only in the mechanical part, he said the head was a very clever one, and that to persuade me to go on in crayons he could not, practice being the only thing requisite for my being a great painter. He has ofl'ered me every service in his power ; and, as a proof of fulfilling his word, I have a very valu- able receipt from him which was made use of by Mengs, the Spanish Raphael. His politeness has indeed been great. I shall now say, what does not proceed f-om vanity, nor is it an impulse of the moment, but what from my judgment I can warrant. Though Mr. Prince Hoare's studies have been great, my paintings are better than any I have seen from his pencil. To any but my own family I certainly should not say this ; but, excepting Sir Joshua, for the painting of a head I would risk my reputation with any painter in London." So just an estimate did he thus early form of hia powers as an artist, and especially as a portrait-painter. About this time his father refused the offer of aw English nobleman to give him the benefit of Roman 284 PAINTERS. masters ; his ansMier being that his son's talents were such as to render education unnecessary. The Society of Arts now voted Lawrence their sil- ver pallet and five guineas, for his copy of Raphael's " Transfiguration." It was their custom to put a gilt border round it as a mark of unusual distinction ; but so pleased were they with such a performance from so young an artist, that they presented him with the pallet gilt all over. Every success served only to increase and stimulate his enthusiasm for what he called his "loved pur- suit ;" and, at length, his father was forced to yield to the entreaties to have him sent to London. Ac- cordingly, in 1787, Lawrence took up his quarters in Tavistock Street, opened an exhibition of his works, and, on the 13th of September, became a student at the Royal Academy. He found some difficulty in getting an introduction to Sir Joshua Reynolds ; but, at length, succeeded in obtaining an interview, and sub- mitted his portrait, in oil, to the criticism of his famous contemporary. Sir Joshua examined the picture with great care and attention, and then turning to the in- tensely excited artist, said, " Well, now, I suppose you think this very fine, and this coloring very natural." Lawrence's emotions at so blunt a sally can be more easily conceived than described ; but Sir Joshua proceeded to speak so kindly, and counsel him with so much candor, that he was soon reassured, and took his departure with a grateful heart. BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 283 The foundation of his metropolitan fame is said to have been laid by his portrait of the charming Miss Farren, -which was hung as a pendant to Sir Joshua's Mrs. Billington as St. Cecilia. At the private ex- hibition, Sir Joshua, taking him by the hand, said, " You have already achieved a master-piece, and the world will naturally look to you to perfect that which J (pointing to his own picture) have endeavored to improve." Then surveying the young aspirant's pro- duction, he added, with a smile, " I am not sure but you have deserved the prize." Lawrence's progress in public favor was now rapid ; his career successful beyond all precedent. His grace- ful manners, engaging address, and pleasing person, contributed considerably to the eminence he attained. In 1791, he was, at the request of George the Third, elected a supplemental associate of the Pvoyal Acad- emy, and was admitted a member of it four years later. In 1792 he succeeded Reynolds as Painter in Ordi- nary to His Majesty. And, in 1814, having been re- called frorn Paris by the Prince Pvegent to take the portraits of the Allied Sovereigns, who were in Lon- don, he was honored with knighthood. Going to Rome, in 1819, he painted a portrait of the Pope, and finished that of Canova, which has by some been thought the finest emanation of his genius. On his return to England he found that he had the day be- fore his arrival, been elected President of the Royal Academy, vacant by the death of West. He was 280 PAINTERS. made a Knight of the French Legion of Honor a few days before his death, which took place on the 7th of January, 1830, when he was buried with great pomp m St. Paul's Cathedral. BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILKIE. There was little in the circumstances of the cele- brated man's birth likely to lead him into the sphere which was enlarged by the workings of his genius, and adorned with the fruits of his industry. When once asked by a northern baronet whether his father, mother, or any of his relations, had a turn for paint- ing, or what made him follow that art, he replied, with his usual quiet humor : " The truth is. Sir John, that you made me a painter. When you were draw- ing up the statistical account of Scotland, my father had much correspondence with you respecting his parish, in the course of which you sent him a colored drawing of a soldier in the uniform of your Highland Fencible Regiment. I was so delighted with the sight that I was constantly drawing copies of it ; and thus, insensibly, I was transformed into a painter." Wilkie belonged to a family that had from time immemorial held an honorable place in the highei class of Scottish yeomanry, and whose members were considered remarkable in their various walks of life. WILKIE-S EARLY STUDIES. BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILKIE. 289 for morality, economy, and independence. Perhaps the character of the men may, ju some measure ac- count for the fact, that their estate, consisting of sixty acres, neither increased nor diminished in the course of the four centuries, during which, according to au- thentic documents, it was in their possession. This was Ratho-Byres, in Mid Lothian, which Sir David's grandfather, a goo SURGEONS. COWS from the meadows ; but it was certain that he could not permanently lead such a life. The pater- nal estate had, as usual, gone to the eldest brother, the other sons being left to sink or swim, just as for tune and Iheir own exertions might befriend them. Moreover, the days were gone by when the youths of Scotland bartered their services and their blood for foreign pay, otherwise Hunter might have been recruited by some veteran Dalgetty on the common of the neighboring village, shipped off forthwith to France or Germany, and ere long rivaled the fame of that Sir John Hepburn, who was regarded as the best soldier in Christendom, and consequently in the world. As it happened, he went to stay with a sister, who had been married to a cabinet-maker in Glasgow, took to his brother-in-law's trade, and began to learn the manufacture of furniture. Luckily for himself, though by a circumstance which must at the time have been considered unfortunate, he was not per- mitted to spend his time in, and devote his labors to, the construction of beds, chairs, and tables. His rela- tive became bankrupt, and having no prospect of pur- suing the trade with success. Hunter was compelled to look abroad for some other occupation ; and fortune was eminently propitious. An elder brother, William, the seventh of the brood, and ten years older than our hero, having studied medicine at the Scottish Universities, had 'H)metime before this repaired to London, and laid BOYHOOD OF JOHN HUNTER. 3fi. the foundation of the extraordinary reputation, which he was destined to attain. The report of his success had possibly awakened in the younger brother a feel- ing of ambition, and his "nnounting spirit" began to soar above the humble station, which he was then occupying. He, therefore, wrote to his already cele- brated brother, proposing to proceed to London, and become his anatomical assistant ; stating at the same time his intention, in case of the ofier not being ac- cepted, of enlisting in the army. The proposal, how- ever was treated with fraternal generosity ; and the surgical profession received into its ranks a man capa- ble of adding immensely to its importance. On arriving in London his first efforts at dissection M'ere made with a skill, dexterity, and judgment, which augured most favorably for his future career ; and he pursued his first success so effectually that, before the expiration of a year, he was employed ia the instruction of his brother's pupils. He was now twenty-one, and his subsequent sur- gical achievements were worthy of the auspicious com- mencement he had made. He pursued his investi- gations at a cost of money and labor seldom parellel- ed ; and the interesting museum, which after his death was purchased by Parliament and deposited in the Koyal College of Surgeons, is a striking memorial of the efforts and exertions he made in pursuing his object. He shortly became a member of the Corporation of 362 SURGEONS. Surgeons, and was appointed surgeon to St. George's Hospital. Hi was subsequently elected a Fellow of the Koyal Society, in whose proceedings he acted a conspicuous part, and was selected as Inspector-gene- ral of the Hospitals, and Surgeon-general to the army. His time was so incessantly occupied with his various important avocations, that he only allowed himself four hours in the twenty-four for rest and repose. He died while in the discharge of his laborious func tions, at St. George's Hospital, on the I6lh of Octo- tober, 1793. No stronger instance of the advantage of study, ap- plication, and industry, could be cited than the rise of this wonderful man, from the upholsterer's workshop to the highest and most honorable position in the great profession, which he adorned by the results of his independent thought and by the workings of hia scientific genius. " That man thinks for himself," exclaimed Lavater, when he lookid on that face, as it seems to live ard breathe on the canvas of Sii JoBliua. BOYHOOD OF SIR ASTLEY COOPER. This most scientific and enterprising surgeon was born at Brooke Hall, an ancient manor-house in that rich county of Norfolk, which has, in these latter times, contributed so fair a share of distinguished men to the service of the world. Some vestiges of the old hall may yet be traced where it stood, about seven miles from Norwich ; though the whole place has undergone a marked change since the time when Sir Astley's reverend father used to issue forth, on Sunday morning, in a stately coach, drawn by four black horses, to officiate at Yelverton ; or, when he himself plunged into the huge moat, shaded by the branches of the famous old oak-tree. His grandfather held a respectable position, and amassed a handsome fortune as a provincial surgeon, and was, moreover, a man of more than ordinary liter- ary attainments. His father enjoyed a high charac- ter for intellect in the locality, and reputation as a divine ; and his mother, a woman of domestic vir- tues and mental endowments, was known as the au- thoress of many works, several of which were written with the praiseworthy object of improving the young, and guiding them in the way they should go. The hirth of Sir Astley took place on the 23d of Au'Tust, 1768. and liis baptism in the following rf64 SURGEONS. month ; a few days after which he was sent from home to be nursed by a vigorous country-woman — a practice which he afterward condemned with all the weight of his authority, and with an earnestness that Rousseau might have envied. However, the fact, in his case, is somewhat interesting, as connected with an occurence which subsequently exercised a consid- erable and important influence on his choice of a profession. Meantime, it appears that he escaped any fatal disadvantage from the custom being fol- lowed, and was restored safe and sound to his mother's arms. His life was soon after exposed to great dan- ger, from his accidentally running against a knife, which, a brother, with whom he was playing, was, at the moment, holding in his hand, unclasped. The blade penetrated the lower part of his cheek, passed upward, and was only stopped in its deadly course by the socket of the eye. Blood flowed profusely, but medical aid being instantly procured, the wound was attended to, and at length healed; though the scar remained visible to his last days. As soon as he was old enough to receive instruction, he was initiated into the elements of education by his mother, who, us may be conceived, from her tastes and accomplish- ments, was well qualified for the task. Notwith- standing her literary engagements, she managed to devote a considerable portion of her well-spent time to imparting knowledge — and especially rehgious knowledge — to her family, and grounded young Ast- BOYHOOD OF SIR ASTLEY CCOPER. 363 ley in the rudiments of English grammar and history, for the latter of which he ever retained a strong attachment. At the same time he acquired from his father as much learning in the Latin and Greek classics, as enabled him to read the New Testament in one language, and Horace in the other. Another preceptor was the village schoolmaster, who daily attended at the hall to instruct the young Coopers in writing, ciphering, and arithmetic. But Astley does not seem to have made any particularly rapid pro- gress under his tuition. Indeed he was much too fond of fun and frolic, and too much of a boy in every sense of the word. His pranks were the wonder and alarm of the village ; though his frank, open, and generous temper rendered it all but impossible for any one to be angry with him, and they were as usual, the delight of his youthful associates. The hazardous adventures he engaged in are not such as can be deemed worthy of applause. The very objec- tionable exploit of plundering orchards, which then prevailed to such an extent, that, as we have seen, even a future Lord Chancellor could indulge in it, was frequently practiced under his advice and direc- tion. He rode, without the aid of a bridle, horsea which others were afraid to mount when properly bitted ; drove out the herd of cows from some neigh- boring pasture, mounted on the back of a fierce bull, whose horns others would have feared to approach ; and ran along the eaves of high barns, with the ut- 366 SURGEONS. most indifierence as to consequences. On one day, while performing the latter feat, he fell from so great a height, that death must have been the penalty of his giddy rashness, but for his tumbling into the sta- ble-yard, which, at that time fortunately happened to be filled with hay. On another, having climbed to the roof of the church, he suddenly lost his hold, and was precipitated to the ground ; but escaped almost miraculously with a few bruises. On a third, while leaping a horse, which he had caught on the common, over a cow lying on the ground, he was overthrown by the anmial rising at the instant ; and though the bold rider escaped unhurt, the collar-bone of the steed was broken in the fall. On a fourth, he would tease some hapless donkeys, till severely kicked by them in retaliation. But before leaving with his father for Great Yar- mouth, he left a more honorable memorial of his ener- getic spirit than the remembrance of such doings as have been mentioned. He was not yet thirteen when he gave a memorable proof of his calm courage and innate skill in dealing with that human frame, which afterward formed the chief subject of his laborious study. A son of his foster-mother, a lad rather older than himself, wnile driving a cart loaded with coals for the vicar, fell in front of the wheel, which passed over his thigh before he could regain his footing, and besides other injuries, caused a lace- ration of the principal artery. The unfortunate boy wTrc,Tnir ASTLEY COOrER'S DEBUT IN SURGER'i BOT^HOOD OF SIR ASTLEY COOPEK. 369 was borne home utterly exhausted, and sinking from loss of blood, which flowed so copiously that surgical aid not being at hand, the assembled villagers, find- ing their efibrts to stop it utterly futile, were in ter- , ror of his bleeding to death ; when Astley, having heard of the accident, hurried to the place. Unde- terred by the feeling of sickness Avhich the sight of 60 ghastly a wound naturally produces, and undis- mayed by the afiright of the trembling spectators, he with consummate presence of mind and a firm hand, instinctively did exactly what should have been done, encircled the limb with his handkerchief above the wound, and bound it so tightly, that the bleeding was effectually stayed till the arrival of the surgeon, with whose aid the boy was saved. In after-life Sir Astley used to refer to this circum- stance as a remarkable event in his career ; and he regarded it as first giving his mind the bent toward that great profession which he adorned. Moreover he was hkely to be incited in that direction by the example of his grandfather, who had followed it with honor and profit at Norwich ; and of his uncle, who had acquired distinction as a surgeon in the metrop- olis. But though the inclination mutas agitare in- glorias aries was thus conceived, no steps were taken to gratify it at the time, nor does he seem to have made any preparation for giving effect to it. On the contrary, when settled in his father's new parsonage a'' Yarmouth, he divided his time between frolicsome A A 470 SURGEONS. levities and evening parlies, till roused into aclioa by the visits of his uncle. The professional knowledge, lively talents, and extensive information of this gen- tleman, captivated his keen-spirited and active-mind- ed nephew, who resolved forthwith to devote his liie and energies to the promotion of that science, in which he won such high renown. So, after witness- ing the performance of an operation at Norwich, ho determined on becoming his uncle's .pupil, and was articled accordingly. In the autumn of 1784, he took his departure from Norwich, experiencing to the full those feelings of melancholy so natural under the circumstances. However, the anticipation of one day becoming a great man, and the attractions of the wondrous city to which he was journeying, tended to dissipate any disagreeable reflections. He was only sixteen ; but his appearance and manner were particularly pre- possessing, his conversation pleasing and animated ; and he had within him the energy and perseverance, which are, above all, necessary to the achievement of success in any walk of life. No doubt, also, he showed something of the attention to his attire, which afterward won him the reputation of being one of tho best-dressed men in the city of London. Hi? uncle, not finding it convenient to receive tho young aspirant to surgical distinction into his own house, managed to obtain for him a residence in that of Mr. Cline, an eminent surgeon of St. Thomas's BOYHOOD OF SIR ASTLEY COOPER. 371 Hospital ; an arrangement most auspicious to his pro- fessional prospects. At the following Christmas he was transferred from the pupilage of his uncle, to that of Mr. Cline, described by him as " a man of great judgment, a slow and cautious operator ; and a mod' erate anatomist." It is related that one day Mr. Cline brought homo an arm, and throwing it on the table of his private dissecting-room, desired Astley to set to work upon it, whereupon the later bent all his powers, bodily and mental, to the task, and accomplished it with a suc- cess, which not only highly satisfied his instructor, but created in him the enthusiastic devotion to his pro- fession, by which he was characterized. At all events, it is certain that, on being placed under Mr. Cline, he totally abandoned his juvenile habits of tir^fling and carelessness, and applied himself to the aci^uire- ment of his professional knowledge by diligent study in private, by labor in the dissecting-room, and by a complete attention to the lectures delivered at the hospital. He had previously been elected, on the nomination of his uncle, as a member of the Physical Society, then one of the oldest and most valuable in- stitutions of the kind in London. By the rules of the society, every member had to read an essay in the course of the session, the subject being a matter of choice to himself. Sir Astley took that of malignant diseases in the breast, or cancers ; and he thus at once became interested in a subject, the invesligation 372 SURGEONS. of wliicli conluiued to occupy his attention and his pen to the close of his life. So great was his industry in his new pursuit, that, by the following spring, his proficiency in anatomy far exceeded that of any other pupil of his standing in the hospital, and gave sure presage of the wide-spread celebrity he was to attain ; and, while visiting his father during the vacation, he attended at the surgery of Mr. Turner, a relative of his, who resided at Yarmouth, with the view of gain- ing information in the practice of pharmacy. His evident change of character, from gay to grave, con- veyed sensations of the most pleasing kind to the hearts of his parents. During his second session at the ho.spital he applied his mind intensely to the study of anatomy, making himself fully conversant with the structure of the human body, and paving the way for those discoveries in " pathological anatomy" which have been so bene- ficial to his profession. In the winter of 1786 he contrived to attend a course of lectures delivered by the philosophical and scientific John Hunter, whom he regarded with great interest and admiration, and from whom he derived his knowledge of the principles of physiology and surgery, which he afterward found so valuable. Next year his thirst for knowledge carried him tc the University of Edinburgh, where he immediatelj attracted notice by his zeai and diligence in obtaining it. For seven months he prosecuted his studies there BOYHOOD OF SIR ASTLEY COOPER. 6n with great diligence ; and having been elected an ordinary member of the Royal Medical Society, ha so highly distinguished himself iu its discussions, that on his leaving he was offered the presidency in case of his returning. At the termination of the session he resolved to banish all study for a time, and undertake a journey in the Highlands — then no easy matter. He pre- pared for it in almost as primitive a fashion as Bailie Nicol Jarvie had done nearly a century before ; and hr.ving purchased two suitable nags, and hired a serv- ant, he extended his tour to the Western Isles. Shortly after his return to London, he received the well-merited appointment of demonstrator at St. Thomas's Hospital, and later was made joint lecturer with Mr. Cline. In this capacity he established with success a distinct course of lectures on surgery, which had hitherto been treated in conjunction with an- atomy. Sir Astley had even when a roving boy at Brooke indulged in a romantic courtship with a young lady of his own age ; and so ardent was his love, that after leaving the neighborhood, he one day, still only thir- teen, without the knowledge of his family, made a journey of forty-eight miles to pay her a visit, which very much pleased the fair dam?el, and very much surprised her worthy father. But however deep their vows, they were destined to come to naught ; and he now found a bride in the new sphere of his exertions, .i7t SURGEONS. and sei; off on a trip to Paris. On arrival, he seized Ihe opportunity to attend the lectures of Desault and Chopart, and compare the practice of the French surgeons with that pursued by those of his own coun- try. In 1793 he was appointed Professor of Anatomy to Surgeons' Hall. He had already appeared as an author on those subjects, to which his attention was directed with great credit for abiUty, and for the scientific manner in which he had discussed them ; and in 1800, on the resignation of his uncle, he suc- ceeded him as surgeon to Guy's Hospital. Thence- forth, his career was brilliant, and he was created a baronet by George IV. in 1821. He afterward be- came president of the College of Surgeons, vice-presi- dent of the Royal Society, member of the French In- stitute, and of the Academy of Sciences. He died in February, 1841. Sir Astley was the architect of his own fortune. His advancement was the result of steady exertion. He thought for himself, and worked for himself, with an assiduity and diligence, which rarely fail to bring their rewards — professional eminence, public esteem, and the ennobling consciousness of duties faithfully tuid indefatigably performed. CHAPTER XTX. Naturalists. BOYHOOD OF SIR JOSEPH BANKS. Tins distinguished naturalist, though his name il net associated with any great work, or connected in the minds of men with anj' memorable discovery, was in reality so energetic, enthusiastic, and success- ful a promoter of science, as to be pronounced, by no mean authority, to have been " perhaps the most ac- complished botanist of his day, and among the very first in the other branches of natural history." His zeal for science itself seems to have been so strong and ardent, that he took no pains to appropriate or perpetuate the fame., which his zealous labors in the cause worthily brought him. He was born on the 2d of February, 1743, at Argyle-street, London, and not, as has been asserted, at Revesby, in Lincolnshire, in after years the scene of his hospitality, when he left every summer for a short while his house in Soho Square, and its noble library, which was ever open to the student of science and the literary laborer. Ho 276 NATUILVLISTS. was the representative of an ancient find opulent ter ritorial family, and the heir of large estates After having been under the care of a private tutor, he was placed at Harrow school in his ninth year, but without showing any marked liking for his books. Four years after he was removed to Eton, where, for the first twelve months he was only remarkable for his love of active amusement and indifference to ordi- nary study. His good-humor and cheerful disposition, however, were sufficient to, insure some amount of popularity with masters and boys. A change was suddenly produced in his tastes and habits, which developing itself with time, raised him to the highest honors in the scientific world ; and his conversion is thus accounted for. One day, he was bathing in the river with a party of his schoolfellows, and having remained longer in the water than the others, was not dressed in time to leave the place with them. Having put on his clothes, he walked slowly and musingly along the green lane : and the evening be- ing fine, the beauties of nature touched and impressed him with an unwonted and peculiar force. He con- templated, with delighted eye, the flowers that adorn ed the sides of the path, and exclaimed with rapture, " How beautiful I Would it not be far more reason- able to make me learn the names of these plants than the Greek and Latin I am confined to?" He soon recollected, however, that it was his duty, in the first plice, to obey his father's wishes, and apply himself BOYHOOD OF SIR JOSEPH BANKS. 371 so the prooer studies of the school. But henceforth his passion for botany grew ana waxea daily stronger, and, not finding any more fitting teacher, he employ- ed some women, occupied in gathering plants and Iierbs for the druggists, to give him such instruction as they could — the reward being sixpence for every piece of information they gave him. His tutor, so far from having reason to complain now, was sur- prised to find him reading studiously and intently dur- ing the hours of play. When he went home for the holidays, he was over- joyed to find an old torn copy of Gerrard's " Herbal'' in his mother's dressing-room, full of the names and figures of plants, which he had already, in some slight degree, become acquainted with. He carried the precious book back to school with him, and con- tinued his collection of plants, besides commencing one of butterflies and other insects. His pedestrian powers, which were remarkable, now stood him in good stead ; and his v/hole time, when out of school, was busily occupied in searching for and arranging plants and insects. In one of his excursions he fell asleep under a hedge, and being mistaken by a game- keeper, who surprised him in that position, was carried before a magistrate on suspicion of being a poacher. A greater risk did he afterward run, amid the snow of Terra del Fuego, when any yielding to drowsiness would have been inevitable death. On that occasion, two of the party actually perished from 378 NATURALISTS. excessive cold, and Banlts himself, with Dr. Solander, a favorite pupil of Linnaeus, narrowly escaped shar- ing their fate. While thus wandering, our natural- ist contrived some days to kill as many as sixty birds with his own hand, and thus added immensely to his ornithological possessions. When Banks was eighteen years old, his father's death put him in possession of valuable estates in the counties of Derby and Lincoln ; but instead of alluring him from his favorite studies, this circum- stance incited him to pursue it with renewed and redoubled ardor. On going to Oxford, he found to his disappointment, that no lectures were delivered by. the botanical professor, and immediately applied to that personage for leave to engage a lecturer, to be paid by the pupils attending him. Permission being freely granted, and no one in Oxford being found prepared to undertake the duty, Banks, with that characteristic energy which he exhibited in all future emergencies when in pursuit of knowledge, went forthwith to Cambridge, and speedily returned with a learned botanist under his wing, for whom he afterward obtained the appointment of astronomer to Captain Phipps, in his polar voyage. This gentle- man gave lectures and lessons to those who concurred in the scheme, very much to the profit and instruction of Mr. Banks, of whom Lord Brougham writes in his " Lives of Men of Letters and Science ;" — " Among true Oxoniacs, of course, he stood low. He used to BOYPIOOD OF SIR JOSEPH BANKS. 379 lell, in after-life, that when he entered any of the rooms where discussions on classical subjects were going briskly on, they would say, * There is Banks, but he knows nothing about Greek.' He made no reply, but he would say to himself, ' I shall very soon beat you all in a kind of knowledge I think infi nitely more important ;' and it happened, that soon after he first heard these jokes, as often as the clas- sical men were puzzled on a point of natural history, they would say, ' We must go to Banks.' " On leaving the University, when he came of age, he continued his pursuits with great zeal, and occu- pied much of his time in angling, which afforded him opportunities of observing the habits of the fishes. In 1766 he was elected a member of the Royal Society ; and the same year set out on a voyage to Newfoundland, from which he brought home an interesting collection of plants, insects, and other pro- ductions of nature. It happened soon after that the Government, at the suggestion of the Royal Society, resolved upon sending out competent persons to Otaheite for the purpose of making observations on the transit of Venus over the sun's disc, expected to take place in 1769. The " Endeavor" was fitted out for the voyage, and the command of her given to a man eminently qualified for the important office. The great navigator, Captain Cook, had early in life, been indentured by his humble parents to the haberdasher of a small town near Newcastle. In 380 NATURALISTS. this feitnation he conceived so strong a passion fol the sea, that on some disagreement with his em- ployer he bound himself apprentice to a Whitby col- lier, and soon became proficient in practical naviga- tion. Having volunteered into the navy in 1755, he soon, by his skill, conduct, and diligence, raised himself to posts of credit and confidence. He was now presented with a lieutenant's commission, and appointed to the command of the expedition. Banks obtained leave to accompany the celebrated naviga- tor, and made his preparations worthy of a man who had an ample fortune, and knew how to use it for the benefit of others. In this expedition he pro- cured a choice and valuable collection of natural specimens ; in many cases at the hazard of his life, which was often endangered and despaired of during the voyage. When Captain Cook's second voyage was resolved upon, Sir Joseph expressed an earnest anxiety to ac- company the great, skillful, and gallant navigator ; and having been thwarted in his wish, he with becoming spirit fitted out a vessel at his own expense, and set sail for Iceland in 1772. His voyage was most pro- ductive in a scientific point of view, and gained him much and well-merited fame. In 177S he succeeded Sir John Pringle as Presi- dent of the Royal Society, and soon after was created a baronet, and invested with the Order of the Bath. BOYHOOD OF AUDUBON. 38J In 1795 he was appointed a member of the Privy Council. He died full of honors, on the 19th of March, ] 820, leaving his library and botanical collection to tha British Museum, of which he had been a trustee. His indefatigable industry, his watchful vigilance over the interests of science, the intrepidity with which he hraved perils by land and sea in pursuit of knowledge, and his general excellences of character, entitle him, in the highest degree, to the regard, emulation, and admiration of posterity. BOYHOOD OF AUDUBON This great and good man, whose mind combined the vigor and elasticity of youth with the wisdom of philosophic maturity, was one of the most earnest and enthusiastic students of natural history who ever walked the earth ; and his boyhood was devoted to the study of the science, which he afterward indefati- gably pursued and splendidly illustrated. John James Audubon was born in the year 1776, on a plantation in New France, which at that time Was still a dependency of the Bourbons. His father, an officer in the French navy, had settled there to enjoy dignified leisure ; and being a man of retired habits and a cultivated mind, early implanted in the 3»i MATURALISTS. breast of his son a love of those natural objects to which his time and attention were devoted through out life with firm enthusiasm and untiring energy. Almost in infancy he was led to take a lively in- terest in the winged and feathered tribes. A love of birds indeed is, in some degree, natural to the hearts of children ; and assuredly no knight of romance, lay- ing his lance in rest, with bright eyes beaming upon him, ever glowed with a purer chivalry than does the little boy, when springing from his comfortable lair on the hearth-rug to rescue the cage of his beautiful songster, from the perilous proximity of the prowling cat's murderous claws. But Audubon's childish af- fection for them was of no ordinary kind. In this, as in most cases, the character and career of the man grew out of those of the boy. His early interest in the animal creation was absorbing ; and that the graceful form of birds might never be absent from his eye, he took such portraits of them as his uninstruct- ed skill could produce. The young ornithologist was, in accordance per- haps with the custom of the more refined colonists, sent to Paris to complete his education, but soon be- came tired of such lessons as lie received. " What," he asked, " have I to do with monstrous torsos ar.d the heads of heathen gods, M'hen my business lies among birds ?" He therefore returned with defight to indulge in his enthralling study about the fields, woods, and BOYHOOD OF AUDOBON. 3S.-> rivers of his native place. A crowded and noisy city seemed to him a pestilential prison ; he felt that there was a world replete with life and animation in tlie quiet, retired, solitary haunts of his warbling friends , and in the contemplation of their manners, customs, habits, and language, he found food for his thoughts, recreation for his mind, and subjects for his pen and poncil. On his arrival in America he took possession of a farm, given him by his father, on the banks of the Schuylkill, in Pennsylvania, where his taste for his favorite science strengthened and developed itself with time and study. His researches were prosecuted with unabated zeal and ardor, and his skill in draw- ing improved by practice. His devotion to ornithology prompted him to make excursions far and wide over the country. Arrayed in a coarse leathern dress, armed with a sure rifle, and provided with a knap- sack containing sketching and coloring materials, ho roamed for days, sometimes even for months at a time in quest of animals to study and portray. His eagerness was only equaled by his patience : he would watch for hours among canes to see some plumed songstress feeding her young ; he would climb precipit- ous mountains to mark the king of birds hovering over its nest, secure amid the strength of rocks. He braved the dreadful perils of rushing tides, and tho merciless bowie-knife of the lurking Indian, in order to gratify his taste and add to his knowledge ; and in 334 NATURALISTS, pursuit of his object, lie exhibited at, oucu ine irosn Boul of a child and the courageous spirit of a hero His wanderings were among unfrequented solitudes, soHtary waterfalls, and pathless groves ; and thus despising hunger, fatigue, and danger, he formed by lonely study that intimate acquaintance with the shapes and plumage of the birds of the air, which he afterward displayed to the busy world in his brilliant, interesting, and entertaining volumes. Notwithstanding his devotion to ornithological studies, he made up his mind in early years to brave the terrors of matrimony, and married a woman who fortunately sympathised with his tastes and appreci- ated his talents. About the same time, with a view of pursuing his investigations into nature to greater advantage, he purchased a farm in Kentucky, to which he removed. His new dwelling, surrounded by impenetrable thickets, and shadowed by bound- less forests, was exactly to his liking ; and he spared no pains or toil to profit by the natural treasures of its rich and magnificent neighborhood. On visit- ing England and Europe, he was welcomed with open arms by men of science and letters ; and had such honors bestowed upon him as the learned and scientific societies had in their power to confer. This visit afterward led to his publishing a work on orni- thology, ornamented and elucidated by paintings of birds and narratives of personal adventure. He con- tinued throughout manhood, and even in old age, a* BOYHOOD OF AUDUBON. 385 ardent in his chosen pursuits as he had been when, in the vigor of youth, braving earthquakes, fearful precipices, and yawning gulfs. At sixty he undertook an expedition to the Pk^ocky Mountains in search of some specimens of wild animals, of which a report had been conveyed to him. Even in the last days of his existence, when the world was fading from his view, and his clear spirit was gently taking its leave of the earth, he showed signs of his heart being touched and Ids imagination excited, as one of his sons held before his once penetrating eyes some of the drawings associated with his finest feelings and most cherished aspirations. He sank composedly into his long sleep, on the 27th of January, 1851 ; and his mortal remains were interred in Trinity Church Cemetery, near his secluded residence, quietly reposing amid oaks, and elms, and evergreen foliage. But the intelligence of his death went through that civilized world, which had profited so largely by his arduous and disinterest- ed favors, and which readily acknowledges the great- ness of his pure and persevering genius. THE END. BOOKS M THE ABBOTTS. THE FRANCONIA STORIES. By Jacob Abdott. In Ten Volumes. Beautifully Illus« trated. IGmo, Cloth, 90 cents per Vol. ; the set complete, in case, $9 00. 1. Malleville. G. Stuyvesant. 2. Mary Bell. 7. Agnes. 3. Ellen Linn. 8. Mary Erskine. 4. Wallace. 9. Rodolphus. 5. Beechnut. 10. Caroline. MARCO PAUL SERIES. Marco Paul's Voyages and Travels in the Pursuit of Knowledge. By Jacob Abbott. Beautifully Illustrated. Complete in G Volumes, IGmo, Cloth, 90 cents per Volume. Price of the set, in case, $5 40. In Ne-w York. In Boston. On the Erie Canal. At the Springfield Arm< In the Forests of Maine. ory. In Vermont. RAINBOW AND LUCKY SERIES. By Jacob Abbott. Beautifully Illustrated. ICmo, Cloth, 90 cents each. The set comi)lete, in case, $4 r,0. Handle. Selling Lucky. Rainbo'w's Journey. Up the River. The Three Pines. YOUNG CHRISTIAN SERIES. By Jacob Abbott. In Four Volumes. Richly Illus- trated with Engravings, and Beautifully Bound. 12mo, Cloth, fl 7'> per Vol. The set complete, Cloth, $7 00; ia Half Calf, ^14 00. 1. The Young Christian. 2. The Corner Stone. 3. The Way to Do Good. 4. Hoaryhead and M'Donner. Books by the Abbotts. HARPER'S STORY BOOKS. A Seriesof Narratives, Biographies, and Tales, for the In* struction and Entertainment of the Young. By Jacob Ab- bott. EmbeUished with more than One Thousand beauti- ful Engravings. Square 4to, complete in 1 2 large Volumes, or 36 small ones. "Hakpeb'b Stoky Books" can be obtained complete iu Twelve Volumes, bound in blue and gold, each one containing Three Sto- ries, for $21 00, or in Thirty-six thin Volumes, bound in crimson and gold, each containing One Story, for $32 40. The volumes may be had separately— the large ones at $1 75 each, the others at 90 cents each. VOL. I. BRUNO ; or, Lessons of Fidelity, Patience, and Self-De- nial Taught by a I^og. "WILLIE AND THE MORTGAGE : showing How Much may be Accomplished by a Boy. THE STRAIT GATE; or, The Kule of Exclusion from Heaven. VOL. IL THE LITTLE LOUVRE; or, The Boys' and Girls' I'icture-Gallery. PRANK ; or, The Philosophy of Tricks and Mischief. EMMA ; or. The Three Misforlimes of a Belle. VOL. III. VIRGINIA ; or, A Little Light on a Very Dark Saying. TIMBOO AND JOLIBA ; or, The Art of Being Useful. TIMBOO AND FANNY; or, The Art of Self-Instruc- tion. VOL. IV. THE HARPER ESTABLISHMENT ; or, How the Story Books are Made. FRANKLIN, the Apprentice-Boy. THE STUDIO ; or, Illustrations of the Theory and Prac- tice of Drawing, for Young Artists at Home. VOL. V. THE STORY OF ANCIENT HISTORY, from the Earliest Periods to the Fall of the Eoman Empire. THE STORY OF ENGLISH HISTORY, from the Earliest I'eriods to the American devolution. THE STORY OF AMERICAN HISTORY, from the Earliest Settlement of the Country to the Establish- ment of the Federal Constitution. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT UOS ANGELES THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY TMs book is DXJE on the last date stamped below £ JWjIH^P IAN 2 2 URL 1968 Koim L-9-15Hi;:i,'34 AA 000 730 188 t PLEA"^ DO NOT REMOVE THIS BOOK CARD ' _^i[IBRARY6?/C ^OJUVDJO"^ University Research Library